“Um, so?” She asks, cocking her head.
“So? I just told you I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone, and your response is ‘so’?”
“Yeah, so what? You’re in the military. Isn’t that kind of your job?”
“Well, yeah, but…”
“But what? You thought you could just dump me because you’re going to be gone for a few months?”
“It could be several months.”
“So what?” She steps forward and wraps her arms around my neck. “So fucking what, Cooper? Are you telling me you don’t want to come back to me, baby? Are you telling me you don’t want to be with me anymore? Are you telling me this was just a fling?” She whispers in my ear and I feel her hot breath against my skin.
Fuck. My dick is already hard. This is a serious conversation and I’m so fucking hard I’m going to break.
“Or are you telling me you’re scared, Coop?”
“I want you so fucking much, Bailey.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
I pull back now and look in her eyes: really look in them. She doesn’t look like she’s afraid of me or my job. She doesn’t look like she’s ready for a way out. She doesn’t look like she’s irritated or annoyed I have to go away.
No, Bailey looks completely confused.
Baffled.
“I can’t ask you to wait for me,” I say finally, and she rolls her eyes.
“Oh? You got some other sugar on the side, Coop? You gonna get yourself a deployment girlfriend?”
Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah. I know all about what guys do on deployment. Well listen up, you.” She pats my chest playfully. “No cheating. No kissing. No girls. Email me as much as you can. Call me when it’s possible. Think of me every day. Write to me.”
She lowers her voice and looks up at me with those big, beautiful eyes I’ve come to love.
“Miss me.”
“I already miss you,” I tell her honestly. “And I haven’t even left yet.”
She kisses me then, and keeps kissing me, and soon I forget what we were
talking about because the only thing I see is her.
***
Bailey’s mother lives in a two-story blue house with white shutters and a tiny porch. Her yard is perfectly manicured with bushes that line the front of the house. A small sidewalk leads from the porch to the driveway where I park with a frown on my face.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask.
“I’m sure,” she says.
Only Bailey doesn’t make a move to get out of the car. Instead, she sits and stares at her mother’s house.
“Bailey?” I ask carefully. “Do you want to get out of here? There’s no reason we have to be here.”
“It’s fine. I’m probably just overreacting.”