Page 9 of Resisting Temptation (Men of Honor 3)
Her smile expands. “It’s nice to see you too, Faith,” she responds sweetly.
I stare at her blankly, completely unamused by her sarcasm, but I’m also glad she isn’t offended that I’m being an asshole. “I take it the kid hasn’t come back?” I ask, changing the subject.
She shakes her head sadly. “No. I’m really hoping he comes tonight. I’m very worried about him.”
I look away and decide not to add my thoughts on the subject. There are many reasons why the kid might not come back, none of which will make her feel any better.
I feel her eyes on me. “You don’t dress like a soldier.”
I lie back on the dead grass with my arms behind my head. “I never said I was.”
“But you said…”
“I said, ‘something like that’.”
She pauses for a minute. “Hmmm, okay, so what? Special operations? CIA? The Navy? A Marine?” I quirk a brow at her and she smiles. “My grandfather was a Marine. I don’t know much but I know a little.”
“I’m surprised he would be okay with his granddaughter traveling to a place like this.”
She shrugs. “He was concerned and so was my father, even though it’s his church I’m with.”
My head snaps to hers so fast I almost get whiplash. “Your father is a fucking minister?” I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh.
She tilts her head and studies me, which I fucking hate. “He’s a pastor, yes.”
My stomach sinks with dread. Oh fuck. Is she not as innocent as I thought? Has he done shit to her? I clench my jaw against the rage that pumps through my body at that thought. Calm down, man, this shit is not your business.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering, Cade. How does a man who fights for his country and saves lives, not believe in God?”
“Don’t paint me in a good light because of my career choice. There’s nothing good about me.”
“I find that hard to believe for a man who has a very honorable job.”
I shake my head at how naive she is. “I’m actually the perfect person for my job: I have no family, I’m not scared to die and I have no problem killing people who deserve it.”
One would think that after I just told her I don’t care about killing another person she would question me further, but no, instead she has to pick the one fucking thing I loathe to talk about. “You have no family?”
I ignore the sorrow in her voice. I don’t need pity, there’s nothing sad about it. “Nope!”
“What about your father?”
“He’s dead.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, I’m not.”
I feel her eyes boring into me but I still don’t look at her. “And your mother?” she asks carefully.
I shrug. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“What about…”
“That’s enough questions!” I snap, not wanting her to ask any more. I immediately feel like shit when she flinches.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Instead of acknowledging her apology, I switch the subject. “Tell me, what is it with you and music?”
The question has her relaxing, and a smile gracing her pretty face again. Leaning back against the tree, she softly begins reciting words to a poem: “Music speaks what cannot be expressed. It soothes the mind and gives it rest. It heals the heart and makes it whole. It flows from heaven to heal the soul.” She looks down at me with her smile. “You see, Cade, just as I need oxygen to survive, God and music keep my soul alive.”
All of that was okay, up until the fucking God part. I actually feel sorry for her, with how delusional she is. But I know it’s not her fault, and has to do with what her father pushed on her… my stomach churns at thinking what else he has forced on her. I quickly push away the sick thought, not being able to bear thinking about it. “Well I have to admit, Red, you’re pretty good. Why aren’t you singing for a living?”
“If I sang for a living I don’t think I would love it as much as I do, and it’s not something I want to do for a career. But I’m curious, Cade, when have you ever heard me sing?”
Well shit! You busted yourself there, you idiot. I glance over at her to see a knowing smirk on her face. I don’t answer because there’s no digging my way out of this one.
She whispers out a soft giggle. “Don’t worry, Walker, your secret is safe with me.” I glare at her sassy smile, and consider wiping that smug look off her face by flipping her over and sinking into what I bet would be the sweetest, tightest pussy I’ve ever felt…
“I love all music,” she says, thankfully pulling me from my perverted thoughts. “Elvis is one of my favorite artists, same with Johnny Cash and the Beatles. I love country, oldies and rock and roll. Every song has a story – it comes from someone’s heart and soul. I’m actually pretty good at pegging people for their genre of music,” she adds proudly.
“Oh yeah? I’m curious, let’s see if you can pick out mine.”
Smiling at the challenge, she digs into her guitar case then stands up with her iPhone.
“You brought your iPhone with you to Iraq?”
“Yes. I use it to listen to music and to take pictures.”
I watch her scroll through what I’m assuming is her playlist. She smiles when she clearly finds what she’s looking for. “This is what I picture you listening to.” Suddenly, Twisted Sisters’ – “We’re Not Gonna Take It” – blares from her phone.
Well fuck, if it isn’t true that I like this song. What’s funny though is here’s this sweet, innocent country chick in a short, white dress and cowgirl boots head banging to the beat like she’s at some rock concert.
Finally, after a thirty-second show of her rocking out to the lyrics, she laughs and looks over at me. Her smile dies and her mouth drops. “Oh my goodness! Is that a smile I see on your face, Cade Walker?” I quickly realize I have a small lift to my lips.
