Perfect Soldier: The Complete Story Read online

  Contents

  Perfect Soldier: The Complete Story

  Copyright Information

  Part One: Catching Colton

  Part Two: Colt & Cat

  Part Three: Long Goodbye

  Part Four: Away At War

  Part Five: Homecoming

  Follow Haley on Twitter @haleynixxx

  Perfect Soldier: The Complete Story

  By Haley Nix

  Copyright Information

  Copyright © 2014 By Haley Nix

  Perfect Soldier: The Complete Story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and events are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This book or portions thereof may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form whatsoever without direct permission from the author.

  This book is intended Only for Mature Audiences 18+. It contains mature themes, substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

  Part One: Catching Colton

  Chapter One

  Catherine

  The professor droned on and on, talking about myelin sheaths, synapses, and nerve endings. Blah, blah, blah. It’s not that I was necessarily bored with the material, but my mind had already drifted to other things: Would it be a late night at work? Would I be able to beat the traffic that was waiting for me outside? How was I going to get the money for next semester’s tuition?

  I sat at the back of the class, as usual, since I was forced to leave early. My shift started in about an hour, and even in perfect traffic conditions it would take at least twenty minutes to get to the bar. With about forty minutes until 8:00 P.M. I started to slowly gather my things: pens, notebook, laptop, biology textbook, and put them in my book bag.

  The professor noticed and looked up at me, giving a disapproving eye and shake of his head. He never called me out, fortunately, but I could tell he was annoyed whenever I left before his lecture was finished. I knew he expected dedication from his students and wanted everyone to take his classes seriously. But the fact is that I’m in a much different situation than most of these students.

  First off, I’m 27 years old – much older than the itty-bitty, skinny, baby-faced 19-year-olds that inhabited the class. Secondly, I was putting myself through school, not getting any help from my parents. If I didn’t leave class early to get to my job on time, there would be no classes for me next semester. As it was, I was struggling to cover the tuition bill.

  A lot of people wondered why I was going back to school in the first place, since I had a job and all. I can’t tell you how many people told me I was wasting my money, that I should save my paycheck instead of blowing it on the high tuition at the local college. Everyone thought I should settle down, find a nice man to take care of me and live happily ever after. Nice dream, right?

  And that’s exactly what it seemed like to me: a dream, a fantasy. I’d practically given up on men at this point. By all appearances, I’d given up on the idea of love, too. Trust me, when you’re a female bartender, especially one with the curves I have, you get all the wrong kinds of attention from men. After a while, it can really turn you off to the whole idea of spending your life with one.

  It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I was going back to school because I was sick of my job as a bartender. I wanted to be a veterinarian, but I knew that it would take several more years of classes to get to that point. Ultimately, I knew it was a long shot, a very long shot. But what’s life if you don’t take a long shot now and then? Besides, it kept me busy, and even if sometimes I regretted not having much time to relax, I liked my classes and had faith that all my hard work would eventually pay off.

  Stuffing my last few things into my backpack, I got up from my desk at the back of the room in one silent motion and exited the classroom. My heart always pounded during those short seconds, knowing that everyone in the class was staring back at me as I walked out, the one girl leaving before everyone else. But I’d done it a thousand times and once I’d shut the door behind me I took a deep breath and walked down the quiet, empty hallways of Keller Hall, the biology department building.

  I pushed my way through the large, mahogany doors and out into the cold night air. Winter was definitely upon us. Ugh, I shook my head, thinking to myself that winter meant the end of the fall semester, which meant finals, something that I was nowhere near prepared for. Granted, I was only taking two classes, Intro Biology and a Chemistry class, but on top of my job they would be absolute hell to study for. Maybe I could look into taking some time off from work to study. Ha, yeah right, I thought to myself. I needed the extra money. Taking time off didn’t even seem remotely possible now that I thought about it more seriously.

  My car was parked in the parking lot south of campus tonight, since the one closest to Keller Hall had no empty spaces when I’d shown up for class. As soon as I remembered this, I started to walk faster. This was almost a guarantee that I’d be late for work tonight. That fact alone didn’t matter too much. The bar was never really crowded at 8:00 P.M., but my boss ran a tight schedule and I knew he’d have harsh words for me if I showed up late again. It really bothered me sometimes that he couldn’t be more understanding, but it was a fact of life and I’d just have to deal with it.

  When I got to my car, it was 7:35 P.M. – damn, I was really pushing it. I said a silent prayer that traffic would be thin, but I knew I’d have to speed if I had any chance of making it on time. The car was cold and the engine took a second longer than usual to turn. I made a mental note to get a tune-up before winter set in – yet another expense I would have to add to my long list of bills. I turned on my left blinker and pulled out of the parking lot, stepping heavily on the gas pedal as I drove through the roads of the college town, making my way towards the highway that would bring me to the bar.

  I drove up the on-ramp and signaled, looking in my rearview mirror before merging onto the highway. It was somewhat dead tonight, so at least I had traffic on my side. I pushed down on the gas pedal, bringing my little Honda Civic up to 75 MPH, then 80 MPH, and finally to 85 MPH. I kept it around there for a bit, satisfied that at this rate I could actually make it to the bar in time to change into my work clothes and maybe put on a fresh coat of make-up. I tapped my hand on the dashboard, as if to thank it. My trusty little Civic, I thought to myself, and laughed.

  About a mile away from the exit to the bar, I heard my phone buzz from where it sat in the passenger seat. I reached over to grab it and punched in my security code. Text from Amanda, wanting to know if I was watching The Bachelor tonight. Uh, yeah right, I’m at work until 1 A.M. I tossed the phone back into the passenger seat without even responding. Then I looked into my rearview mirror to see flashing blue lights in the darkness behind me. Then I heard the sound of sirens.

  My heart raced. I looked down at my speedometer: I was currently going 90 MPH. Dammit. No, this couldn’t be happening. Please, no, not right now. This was absolutely the last thing I needed. I pulled my car over to the side of the road, a lump forming in my throat as I undid my seatbelt and reached over to my glove box to grab the registration.

  I looked back in my rearview mirror again to see the doors of the police car open, the bright headlights obscuring my view as the officer walked over to my window. I closed my eyes and said another silent prayer as I waited to hear the fateful knock on the window of my car door.

  Chapter Two

  Catherine

  I drove away twenty minutes later, with a $150 ticket and an admonishment from the officer that I had
better drive much slower in the future. There go all my tips from tonight, I thought to myself. In reality, I had gotten off somewhat lucky. I could have had multiple points taken off my license for going at such a “dangerous” speed. Lucky, ha. Now I was definitely late for work, a night of work that would barely help me break even with the ticket I’d just received.

  What was worse than the ticket was the wrath I was likely to incur from my boss. I’d been late way too frequently recently, so I knew he’d definitely be yelling at me in the backroom, telling me I had a responsibility to show up on time and that if I couldn’t do that I’d better start looking for another job. That was something I couldn’t bear to think about right now. Finding another job on short notice, especially in this economy, was no certain thing. I had bills to pay, after all.

  I parked my car in the back lot of the bar, going in quickly and quietly through the service entrance. I found my way to the bathroom and changed in a hurry. The clothes I wore at work were, how shall I say it, a bit less “professional” than what I wore to my classes. Low cut tops were the norm; showing a little cleavage, combined with a healthy dose of flirtation, was a surefire way to bump up my nightly tip count. I checked myself out in the mirror, adjusting here and adjusting there. Fortunately, my makeup was good for the most part. I just decided to briefly touch up my lipstick.

  I left the bathroom and put my bag in the employee storage area, then took a deep breath and walked out into the bar to face my boss, already playing in my head the mean, grating words I knew were in store for me. Pushing through the swinging door and out into the dimly lit bar, I braced myself for the worst, but to my surprise was met with Ellie’s smiling face.

  “You are so damn lucky, Cat,” she said, taking some dirty pint glasses back to the dishwasher.

  “Huh?”

  “Mike isn’t here tonight. He’s sick, got the flu or something.”

  “You… are… kidding,” I said.

  “Nope. You lucked out for once. But I’m glad you’re here, we’re actually busier than I expected tonight. Those three over at the end of the bar need refills.”

  “Gotcha,” I said, opening the door so she could go through with the dirty glasses more easily.

  I felt a smile unfolding across my face. I was lucky. Sure, I’d gotten a freaking ticket, but at least my boss wasn’t here to add insult to injury. And if Ellie was right, and it was busy tonight, maybe I’d be able to make that money back after all. Time to turn on the good old southern charm and flirtation, which wouldn’t be too hard. My spirits were high right now, happy that a little luck had fallen my way on an otherwise stressful night.

  Over at the end of the bar sat the men Ellie had been referring to, glasses empty, looking expectantly in my direction. One of the men in the group gave me a nod and a wink. I walked over with a big smile and asked for their orders.

  “Looks like you boys need refills. What are you drinkin’ tonight?” I asked, adding a little more southern twang than was natural to my voice.

  “Knob Creek all around. Make ’em doubles,” said one of the men, reaching towards me with his credit card.

  “Top shelf, eh? You boys are some big spenders,” I said with a polite little laugh and a wink. It was all part of the charade.

  “Hell yeah!” said the man handing me the credit card.

  “Hey, if he’s payin’ I’m gonna get a Bud on the side,” said the man to his left, slapping the first guy on the back, putting him in something of a playful headlock.

  “Actually, yeah, Buds on the side for all three of us. I don’t mind – we’re celebrating after all.”

  I grabbed the bottle of Knob Creek from the mirrored shelf behind me and set down three rocks glasses in front of them on the bar.

  “What are y’all celebrating?” I asked, before I started my pour. “Anyone want ice?”

  “We’re soldiers, miss. We’ll take them all neat.”

  “Well, I can respect that,” I said, flashing the smile once again. “No need to water down good bourbon.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  The men took their glasses and raised them in the air.

  “Here’s to a few months of much needed rest,” said the first man.

  They touched glasses, and then all took a big gulp. The third man in the group, who had yet to speak, took his down all in one shot. The first man pounded the bar.

  “Damn, that bites good,” he said, taking a sip of the Bud to wash it down and ease the burning sensation of the bourbon.

  I walked away to serve another customer, but was careful to keep an eye on them, in case they needed a refill. Each of the men was devilishly handsome, I don’t know what it was about military men, but I’d always had a sort of fascination with them. They were disciplined and strong, confident and sure of themselves.

  The third man in the group, the one who hadn’t spoken, had piqued my interest considerably. He seemed slightly taller than the other two, with light, brown hair, cropped short of course. His face was chiseled, with the perfect amount of scruff on his sharp cheekbones. His skin, like that of the other men, was quite tan, especially for this time of year. This made me suspect that they had all just come back from somewhere in the Middle East, though I was a bit shy to ask, at least right now.

  The man looked over as I was staring at him and caught my eye. I smiled, then looked down at the ground shyly. I was good at putting on a certain air with customers, a confident flirtatiousness that seemed to charm most of the men. But for some strange reason I could only do it when I wasn’t legitimately attracted to the guys. This handsome man staring at me now made me feel awkward, nervous and slightly tongue-tied, but in a good way, if that makes any sense.

  I stood there idly, leaning on the bar and daydreaming just a bit. I’d given up on men, you probably remember me saying earlier, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have desires sometimes. Of course I liked a good ravaging now and again, a playful little romp in the sheets with a powerful man, the bliss of orgasm, and the pleasure of sleeping with someone in bed next to me. But frankly I didn’t have time for all the drama that went along with that, and I’m not the type of girl who will do a one night stand.

  So naturally, daydreaming was about all I had right now. Work and school took up most of my time anyway. But I was more or less content with my fantasies, touching myself late night in my bed, or in the shower as I got ready for work. But it was times like this, times when I saw a guy who really turned me on, that I wanted something more, a connection of some kind, both mental and physical.

  I was careful to keep an eye on their glasses, ready for any chance that came up to go over and talk to those soldiers some more. Sure, I was nervous, but I kind of liked feeling butterflies again. What a gorgeous man, I thought to myself. I wonder how long he’s in town for.

  Chapter Three

  Catherine

  The next time I went over to fill up their drinks, the men introduced themselves to me.

  “My names Garrett,” said the first man, extending his hand for a handshake. “I figured we ought to introduce ourselves since we’re going to be getting to know each other over the next few hours.”

  “Is that the case?” I laughed. “Well, my name’s Catherine, but most people call me Cat. Pleasure meeting you boys.”

  “I’m Tyson,” said the second man.

  Then, finally, the soldier I had my eye on spoke: “My name’s Colton. But most people call me Colt.”

  Cute, I thought. He gave me a brief smile. That was the first time I’d heard him talk yet. His voice was nice, deep and rich, even-keeled, but with a surprising element of mystery about it. Quiet people were always mysterious to me in this way. It wasn’t like he was hiding something, more that there was something special underneath the surface, something deeply personal that you could only know after you got really close.

  But then again, maybe I was reading into things too much. This time the round was on Colton, or Colt rather, and soon enough I was pouring
three Budweiser pints for the group. Since the rest of the bar was all taken care of, I decided to stick around and start up a conversation to see if maybe I could get Colt to talk just a bit more.

  “So, you boys never told me what exactly it is you’re here celebrating,” I said casually, my elbows propped on the wood of the bar counter as I looked up at them.

  “Well, we just got off a second tour in Afghanistan. I’d say that’s something worth celebrating,” said Garrett.

  “I’m inclined to agree with that,” I said. “Where are y’all from?”

  “Born are raised right here,” said Garrett.

  “Same here,” said Tyson.

  “And what about you?” I said, turning to Colt.

  “I’m from Texas, originally,” he said.

  “Oh yeah? I like Texas. Whereabouts?” I asked, trying to make my face as friendly and encouraging as possible. For some reason I really wanted to bring him out of his shell.

  “Just outside of Austin.”

  “Yup,” said Garrett. “We give him shit all the time for being a Longhorns fan.”

  “Well, of course you’re going to get some flak for that up in this area,” I said, winking at Colt. “You should have known better. What are you doing up here anyway?”

  “I just let these two drag me along with them wherever they go. I think the plan is Vegas, am I right boys?” asked Colt.

  “You sure are, buddy. Heading out in two days actually.”

  “Oh my. I can’t imagine what kind of trouble this group will get into in Sin City,” I said winking.

  The guys all laughed.

  “I can’t tell you the kind, but the amount is sure to be quite sizeable,” said Tyson. “Especially if Colt here is working the poker table.”

  “You’re a card player, huh?” I asked, looking over at Colt.