Page 278 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“I’d love to test that theory but since Jack isn’t here, I’ll pass.”

It was Jane’s turn to bump her hip against Betsy’s. “Could the thought of a certain major’s hand have anything to do with that very wise choice?”

Betsy blushed, her tummy fluttering. “You are the naughty one,” she said.

“You’d better believe it,” Jane agreed. “And speaking of naughty, there’s Warren. I’ve gotta run. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Betsy watched as Jane left and noticed that she definitely wasn’t running. No, her hips were swaying, as was her mane of blonde hair. Jane seemed to float toward her latest conquest. Even from a distance, Betsy could see how Warren Westbrook’s face lit up at the sight of Jane.

Finishing with the cupcakes, Betsy slid the empty box beneath the table. Turning, she saw Mrs. Irving tottering toward her, carrying one of her famous coconut layer cakes. Betsy hurried to relieve her of her burden, setting the cake in a place of honor.

“Thank you, dearie. Oh, don’t you look as pretty as a picture?” Mrs. Irving said. Betsy smiled at the compliment. She’d spent hours the evening before measuring, pinning and finally sewing the hem on the full navy skirt. It might be silly, but she loved the way it swirled and swished around her legs as she walked. A thin, red leather belt she’d borrowed from Jane’s closet was around her waist and her white, lightweight sweater molded to her breasts.

“Thank you, and you look quite patriotic yourself.” The older woman was wearing a red dress and a pair of saddle shoes which Betsy was positive were far more comfortable than the high heeled pumps she’d slipped into. When Mr. Irving joined his wife with a second cake, Betsy took the opportunity to slip away. There were still boxes of cookies in the car.

She paused for a moment as the local high-school band began to warm up, and her toes begin to tap at a rousing rendition of the popular song, Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else but Me.

He stood on the edge of the grass and watched the little chestnut head bop and her foot tap to the rhythm of the music. Out of the dozens of women roaming around the square, he had eyes for only one. Striding across the lawn, he walked up behind her.

“My dearest Betsy,” he said softly and saw her freeze before she began to turn. The smile that lit her face and the instant sheen of tears in her blue eyes pulled at his heart.

“Jack? My Jack!” Betsy squealed and promptly burst into tears as he gathered her in his arms.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I can’t help it! You’re here! How… when…”

Her stammered questions were silenced as his head lowered and his mouth covered hers. He could swear he could smell lilacs and yet she tasted like the sweetest honey. He tightened his hold as her arms lifted and wrapped around his neck. All the horrors he’d seen and the years being gone disappeared in that moment… the moment he finally gave his entire heart and soul to the woman in his arms.

They only separated because both needed to breathe. Hearing a few chuckles, Jack watched as Betsy’s cheeks pinkened, and he grinned. Public displays of affection were frowned upon when in the service but at this moment, he couldn’t drum up enough concern to give a damn.

“Carry on, soldiers,” he stated. The men saluted, all flashing smiles before walking away. It wasn’t until he’d kissed both of her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead, and then her mouth until they once again needed to breathe that he finally loosened his hold. Sliding an arm around her waist, he loved the fact that she leaned into him.

“Nothing could keep me away from this,” he said, his free hand waving to include their surroundings. “Your excitement about this day practically leapt off the pages of your letters. It helped that General Helmsley felt that putting me on the plane to ensure I’d be here in time would go a long way in making up for the hell he put you through.”

“I’m so glad,” Betsy said. “I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am.”

“Happy enough to dance with me?” he asked as the band began playing another song.

“All night long,” she said. “Oh, wait, I forgot the cookies. I need to get them from the car.”

“Are these the same chocolate chip cookies that threatened to make every soldier fat and unfit for duty?”

She giggled. “Those along with oatmeal, peanut butter, and shortbread.”

Jack groaned and patted his flat stomach. “Lead the way. As an officer, I’ll make the sacrifice to sample one of each to make sure they pass muster.” He knew he’d never tire of the sound of her laughter. True to her word, there were several boxes of cookies piled in the trunk. When she picked up two, he shook his head.

“Pile them in my arms, honey.”

“Don’t be silly, I can carry them. How do you think they got in the trunk in the first place?”

“Betsy, I don’t care how they got into the trunk, but I do care about how they are getting out. There is no need for you to carry them, especially not in those heels. Please, pile them in my arms.” When she hesitated, he leaned forward and placed his palm against her cheek. “Or, if you’d rather, we can get into the backseat, and I can warm your bottom first.”

He watched as her mouth dropped open. “Jack! You… you can’t! You wouldn’t spa…” Her cheeks turned scarlet, and she was unable to finish her sentence.

“I assure you that not only can I, but, my little minx, I will definitely spank your bottom any time you are my naughty girl.” Her eyes widened, darting around as if to make sure no one was close enough to have heard him before darting to the back window of her car. About to state that he didn’t like repeating himself, he was very pleased when she nodded and allowed him to take the boxes from her.

“Good girl, now pile those other two on top.” When she had, she closed the trunk, and they walked back toward the tables.

---