Page 1 of Playing Hard to Get

Prologue

Mitch

“Take a break, soldier.” The deep rumble behind me sounded like a tank rolling across the streets of this desert wasteland. I’d learned long ago not to jump every time I heard it. Not to fear it. This tank was on our side.

“Can’t do it, sir.” I didn’t bother looking back at my commanding officer. Instead, I kept my eyes trained on the barren landscape in front of me. My finger was relaxed on the trigger of my M16. That was as big of a break as I wanted to take. Something was eating at me. It was quiet. Too quiet.

“I mean it, Saunders. Barnes and Thompson cleared the perimeter. It’s all clear. Take a break.”

Letting out a slow breath, I looked over my shoulder. Lee stood there with his hands on his hips, glaring down at me with eyes the color of my momma’s emerald necklace. He’d be more intimidating if they weren’t so pretty.

The corner of my lip twitched up. “Is that an order, sir?”

“Does it need to be?”

My eyes shifted out to the desert edging the empty town we were in. Every inch of it was covered in reddish-brown dust. Nothing moved. Not even the wind. Only the sweat that trickled down my back under my flak jacket let me know the world hadn't ceased living. I relaxed my shoulders. My rifle sagged against the strap around my neck. Lee slapped my shoulder with his mammoth-sized mitt.

“Come on. Break out your MREs. We’re gonna eat.”

I was slow to stand, but I followed my CO across the open courtyard where we’d been holed up for the last week. We’d chased the Jihadis out. Or at least, that’s what most of the guys thought.

Me? I wasn’t convinced.

Lee took a seat with his massive back against one of the Frankensteins we’d been gifted. Only a man as big as him could make one of those monster trucks look like a child’s toy. He took off his helmet long enough to dump some water from his canteen over his head. The liquid nearly evaporated before it hit his copper hair. There was a line of white between the shock of red—sunburn and redheads didn’t mix. Looked like he’d been roasted alive. But the guys knew better than to tease.

That wouldn’t end well.

In the last remaining patch of shade, I pressed my back to a wall covered in the remnants of last night’s dust storm, sliding to the ground. A sandy powder rained down upon me. I let it settle before I dug into my pack and pulled out my lunch. Sadly, the home-style chicken and noodles in gravy was better than anything my momma used to make.

As we ate, I kept my ear trained on the abandoned town. Listened for a sound in the silence. Course, it didn't take long before the guys started running their traps.

“You know what I could use?” Barnes looked up from his little foil packet. His chow kit was gripped tightly in his hand, a scoop of something red and gelatinous clinging to the silver.

“Ain't nobody wanna know what you want, Barnesy.” Macevoy backhanded him across the chest and the red glob trembled but didn’t fall.

Barnes shoved his chow in his mouth, then spoke around the bite. “I could go for a little pussy.”

“A little is all you’d need,” Thompson grumbled under his breath. He threw his chow kit in his pack and slung it over his shoulder before getting up and leaving the courtyard. Macevoy laughed as he planted a hand on Barnes’ chest to keep him from following. When Barnes kept at it, talking about all the things he’d like to do to some poor, unsuspecting girl, Calhoun and Fisher got up and took off, too.

I shoveled my slop into my mouth as fast as I could. I trusted these men with my life, but I didn't trust myself to keep my food down if I had to listen to much more of their shit. Barnes and Macevoy could go at it like that for hours. Only knew because I’d heard them. Couldn't help but think of my little sisters back home, wondering if they’d run across these kinds of men who thought so little of them. Wondering how the girls were getting along without me around to protect them.

Lee’s eye caught mine as I slid my pack onto my back. Those emeralds darkened as he narrowed them at me. The slight shake of his head told me he was pissed. But I didn’t care. Didn't care if he was mad at me or at the others for scaring me off. Couldn't stomach that kind of talk when there were other things on my mind.

Like the fucking Jihadis.

The silence.

The calm before the storm.

Heading back to my previous position, I settled in behind the clay brick wall. I threw my shades on top of my head and peered through the lenses of my binoculars. Out in the desert, there was a tuft of tall, dried out weeds swaying over the crest of a small sandy hill. I kept my eyes on the weeds, waiting to see if this was it. What I'd been expecting all week.

“Never seen Lee glare at someone like he does you.” The voice was one I'd come to expect. One I welcomed. James plopped down against the wall, his back to the desert. “And you just up and do whatever you want to, anyway.”

“We all got our quirks.” I pulled the lenses from my eyes and glanced at my fellow Marine.

He smirked, then shook his head. “That we do.”

James knew what the others didn't. Lee and I? We got each other. Had been friends since the minute we met. We put up with each other's shit. Understood where the other came from, most times without saying a word. Lee might have commanded our little unit, but he trusted me more than the others. Trusted that I had his back, no matter what.