Forbidden Love Read online

  Forbidden Love

  By

  Vivian Leigh

  Copyright 2012 Vivian Leigh

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents:

  Welcome Home

  Unwinding

  Alison

  Celebration

  The Ride Home

  Morning

  Lunch with Parents

  The Packers

  Tryst

  Thanksgiving

  Menage

  About the Author

  Bibliography

  Welcome Home

  AMANDA Boyd stood in the terminal with her parents, a poster-board held up between her and her mother. “Welcome Home, Robbie.” She shifted her weight, checking the flight status board. His flight was listed as on time, but it was already ten minutes late. Typical.

  The sweet cinnamon smell of sugar dipped pretzels wafted over from the Auntie Anne’s behind them. “I’m starving,” she said.

  “Shh, I see someone coming,” her mother said, pointing.

  Her dad scooted closer, adjusted his glasses. The crowd around them surged, families too anxious to stay still any longer.

  The first soldier appeared in his tan camouflage fatigues. He walked quickly, almost jogging, his eyes scanning for whoever waited for him.

  “Daddy!” A little boy, probably three or four, ran past, his arms outstretched. The first soldier caught the little guy and lifted him into a hug. A crying girl, not much older than Amanda, followed on the boy’s heels.

  The breeze from the industrial air conditioning prickled her skin. Or maybe it was just seeing the reunion and knowing her brother could be the next one in line.

  “There he is,” her father rumbled.

  And just like that, there he was. Robbie. Backpack slung over one camouflaged shoulder, wide grin on his face.

  Her mother dropped her side of the sign and ran out to greet him. Amanda hung back, giving them a moment alone. Her dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  “I’m already sad that he has to leave,” he whispered.

  “Don’t focus on that,” she said. “Just enjoy the time you have with him.”

  “I know. It’s hard, though.” He squeezed her again, tighter. Passengers streamed past on either side, business people and tourists--the soldiers had all been at the front, eager to find their families.

  “Pop, Amanda, get over here,” Robbie said. He turned toward another soldier that stood behind him, waiting. Robbie beckoned him over. “This is Dylan, my squad-mate. He didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays, so invited him to come with me.”

  She stopped, looked him over. An inch or so taller than Robbie, but with the same broad shoulders. His cheeks had a low coat of stubble, as if he hadn’t shaved since they left Kabul. All in all, it was pretty damn hot. She approved.

  “If I’m imposing, I can get a hotel room,” Dylan offered. “It’s not a problem.”

  “Nonsense,” her dad said. “Any friend of Robbie’s is always welcome with us. We’re glad to have you.”

  “Come here, squirt.” Robbie wrapped her into a hug and squeezed. He smelled of dust and Old Spice. It was as if the last six months had never happened. As if he hadn’t taken a commission with the Marines. As if he hadn’t been sent to Afghanistan to fight in a war most of America had already forgotten.

  “I’m glad you’re home,” she whispered into his ear. He was still her brother, even if they weren’t blood relations. Fifteen years living together under the same roof had seen to that.

  “I’m glad to be home.” He kissed her on the forehead.

  It was perfectly chaste, but it sent a thrill through her. A twinge of shame followed. Part of her didn’t want to believe that he was her brother, even after all that time. She pushed it aside and focused on Dylan.

  “Where you from?” she asked the other soldier.

  “Albuquerque,” he said. “By way of Kabul.”

  They started moving with the crowd toward the baggage return. Dylan loped along on the other side of Robbie, her parents trailing a step behind.

  “How long have you been in the service?” she asked Dylan.

  “Three long years.” He sighed as he said it.

  “That bad?” her dad asked.

  “Nah, not all bad. This is my second tour, though. It’s good to be back stateside.”

  “Dylan’s been a lifesaver,” Robbie said. “Taught me how to stay safe.” He shot his buddy a look of admiration.

  Dylan shrugged it off. They waited at the baggage carousel with the other families. All around them children ran and yelled. Young wives cuddled against the husbands. A fair part of the crowd had tears in their eyes.

  “You boys hungry?” her dad asked after a while.

  “I could eat a frozen cow,” Robbie said. “The Corps fed us in Kabul.”

  “They didn’t give you anything on the plane?” Amanda asked.

  “Nope. Air Force doesn’t do in-flight meals, and the connection from Florida wasn’t long enough for one.”

  “Well, we can take care of that,” her mother said. “Any preference on where to go?”

  “Anywhere with decent beer on tap.”

  Dylan stayed quiet.

  The baggage return started up with a clanking groan. Scarred duffel bags rose from the bowels of the machine. A few suitcases mixed with the green and tan.

  She elbowed her brother. “You don’t look old enough to drink.”

  “Twenty bucks says I don’t get carded in this getup, though.” He tugged his lapel with the Marine insignia sewn onto it.

  It melted her heart to see him so happy. “No deal. What about you, Dylan? Are you old enough to order a beer?”

  “Almost.” He said it with a rueful grin. “I’m old enough to die for my country, but I have to do it sober.”

  “Not in Wisconsin, you don’t,” her dad said. “We’ll see to that.”

  “There’s your bag,” Robbie told Dylan. The other soldier yanked it off the conveyor and dragged it over. It was half as big as he was.

  A minute later Robbie’s came around the turn. Luggage in hand, they all headed out to the parking lot.

  Unwinding

  AMANDA poured a dollop of Bailey’s into her coffee and gave it a stir. The back porch light buzzed on the other side of the window. “You sure you don’t want anything else?” she called into the living room.

  Robbie grunted something unintelligible.

  “I’m good,” Dylan said.

  “Not even a coffee?”

  “You have any decaf?”

  She rooted through the box of plastic cups and came up with one that had an orange on black foil top. “Sure do. Cream? Sugar?” She slotted it into the coffee maker and grabbed one of the Go Badgers! cups from the cupboard.

  “Black.”

  When the coffee finished, she gathered both steaming mugs and carried them back to the living room. Robbie and Dylan each had one end of the couch, so she passed Dylan his mug and lowered herself between them.

  “You guys going to watch another game?”

  The TV blared on with ESPN talking heads blabbing about LSU squeaking out a win and whether that would get them ahead of Oregon in the polls. She didn’t care. If it wasn’t the Badgers, it didn’t matter in her book.

  Robbie shrugged. Grunted again.

  “That’s good coffee,” Dylan said. “You have a French press in there?”

  “It’s just a k-cup. Why?”

  “You haven’t had coffee until you’ve had it in the Middle East. They take that shit seriously over there.”

  Robbie shifted beside her, crossing a foot over his knee.

  “You okay, Robs?” she asked.

  “I’m…” He pushed up from the couch. “Be ri
ght back.” He half-ran, half-stumbled toward the bathroom.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Dylan took a sip. “He’s a lightweight.” The bottles on the end table clinked as he pushed them together to make room for his mug. There were even more on Robbie’s side, and some crumpled cans to boot.

  “You’re holding up okay, though.”

  “He’s had like fourteen beers or something stupid. Doesn’t know how to pace himself.” He glanced at her.

  “You’re hardly old enough to be an expert. You said you weren’t even 21.”

  “Just twenty.”

  “So how have you been in the Marines for three years?”

  “I joined when I was 17. They let me signup a year early.”

  “Your parents were okay with that?”

  He laughed. “Parents? I bounced between foster homes my whole life. The folks that had me the last six months were happy to be rid of me.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “It is what it is. What about you? Robbie said--”

  “I’m adopted. I was just a baby. Not much to it. It’s never been a secret.”

  He leaned back, the couch squeaking, and lifted his mug. Rolled it around between his hands. “That’s good. Glad to hear it works out sometimes.”

  “It was hard for you as a kid, I take it?”

  “You can’t even imagine. I just wanted a home, you know. A place to call my own. Someone who loved me.” He sipped. “Instead I got beat and yelled at and threatened and beat some more. Joining the Corps was the best thing I ever did. They still yell at me, but only when I actually fuck up.”

  Robbie wobbled back into the living room, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think I’m going on to bed, kids. You two be good.” He shot Dylan a pointed look.

  “We’ll be fine,” she told him. “Go sober up, lush.”

  “Love you, too, sis.” He dragged himself upstairs, half his weight supported by the rail.

  Once he was gone, she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to slide over to the empty end of the couch, or scoot closer to Dylan. He looked awful good in his little gray shorts and tight t-shirt. She stayed where she was, playing it by ear. Making a move on her brother’s friend the first night she met him seemed just a little too slutty.

  He flipped through channels, stopped on The History Channel.

  God, he was hot, though. If she was lucky, she’d be dreaming about that strong jaw line and those muscled arms for weeks to come. Maybe they’d displace the dreams she’d been having about Robbie.

  Dylan twisted to face her, his legs crossed beneath him like a giant kid. “Did Robbie date much in high school?”

  She shook her head. “Huh?”

  “Did he date much? Bring girls home, go to prom, whatever.”

  PT shorts they were called. Little, gray, tight and little. They didn’t leave much to the imagination, and she couldn’t help but notice how amply he filled them.

  “Uh…”

  He adjusted himself, tucking everything back into the thin material. “Sorry.”

  She looked away, tried to focus on his question, not his crotch. “He dated, but not much. Took Alison Park to prom his senior year. Why?”

  “Just curious whether all that shit he talked was real or not.” He grinned. “We spend entirely too much time talking about girls. Soldiers gossip worse than housewives. What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Not at the moment.”

  “You a lesbian?”

  A laugh. “No. I dated a guy for half my senior year. We broke up when he moved to California last August.”

  “Was it hard? Breaking up like that?”

  “Not really. We knew it was coming.”

  Dylan crossed his hands in his lap, hiding the erection she’d already spotted. “What about you and Robbie? You seem to have a weird relationship.”

  “Kind of. It’s definitely love hate.”

  “He’s talked about you. Said it was hard on you when he joined the Corps.”

  “It was. He didn’t talk much about it before hand. Then one day he announced that he had signed the papers and he was going to officer school.”

  “That must have been tough on the family.”

  “It was. Dad took it harder than the rest of us. They really had it out.”

  “Well, I’m glad you all seem to be handling it better now.” He stretched his legs out, his cock forming a tent pole in his shorts. “I think I’m going to hit the sack, if that’s alright.”

  She stood, edged around him, grabbed his empty mug. “Sleep tight.”

  When she glanced back, he was watching her walk away. It could have been creepy, but she took it as a compliment. Poor guy. He probably hadn’t been near a civilian girl in six months.

  Alison

  ALISON showed up a little past 1:00. Amanda was downstairs with Dylan and an extremely hung over Robbie. They were friends in a frenemy sort of way. Had been since sophomore year of high school. Alison had always been more interested in Robbie than their friendship, and when Robbie had joined the Corps, she’d been happy enough to let the friendship peter out.

  And here she was. Less than 24 hours after Robbie came home for his first leave since going to Afghanistan. Amanda couldn’t wait until she left.

  “Good afternoon, Alison,” Mrs. Boyd said. “Do you want a hamburger? Ernest is grilling some for the boys.”

  “I’m good.” She pulled up the empty chair across from Amanda and dropped into it. “Robbie, you look like hell.”

  “I feel like it.”

  She stuck out her hand for Dylan. “I’m Alison.”

  “Dylan. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Are you Robbie’s friend?” She gave him the once-over, but her eyes lingered on Robbie. The old flame of jealousy sparked back to life in Amanda’s chest.

  “We’re squad-mates.”

  “Nice. Welcome to Waukega.” She glanced at Amanda. “Have you told them about the party?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Party?” Robbie rubbed his temples. “I don’t know if I can handle one.”

  “It’ll be a blast,” Alison said. “You can’t miss it.” She turned her attention to Dylan. “So you’re like Robbie’s sergeant or something?”

  “She’s not shy, is she?” Dylan asked Amanda.

  “Nope,” she said.

  “He’s my lieutenant.”

  “Awesome,” Alison said. “You guys see much action?”

  “Uh…” Dylan looked to Robbie for guidance.

  “It’s rude to ask that, Al,” Amanda interjected. “They’re home to get away from Afghanistan, not to tell stories about it.”

  “Oh. Well, if you change your mind later, there’s going to be a whole pile of girls that would love to hear what our heroes do over there.”

  “Good to know,” Dylan said.

  The back door banged open, and her dad came through with a steaming plate of burgers and brats. The smell of cooked meat filled the kitchen, making her mouth water.

  “Get us some plates, would you,” he said to her mother as he set the plate in the middle of the table.

  Her mom brought over a stack of paper plates and a couple packages of buns while her dad grabbed bottles of condiments from the fridge and bags of chips from the pantry.

  “Dig in, kids. If you finish it all, I’ll make some more.”

  She surveyed the table. “I think there’s plenty.”

  “You don’t know what those boys can eat.” He patted Robbie on the shoulder. “You want a beer?”

  Robbie blanched. “Not right now.”

  Her dad laughed. It hardly seemed forced. “Had your fill last night? I understand. Just remember, the whole ‘I’ll never a drink again’ promise never lasts. Don’t kid yourself.”

  “So about this party,” Amanda said. “Midnight Lanes still giving us the space?”

  “Happily,” Alison said. “Five lanes and free shoes. All we ha
ve to do is pay for booze. Well, not Robbie. And I guess not… Dylan, did you say?”

  Dylan nodded, his mouth too full to speak.

  Robbie had a drip of mustard and burger grease running down his chin. “What time? I haven’t even showered yet.”

  “People are showing up at six, but you can go whenever you want.” Alison snagged a chip from the bag. “There are some girls really excited that you’re back. Do pay too much attention to them.”

  “What? Me?” Robbie held up his hands defensively.

  “Yes, you. Don’t be breaking any hearts tonight.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. Alison just wanted to keep him for herself, and she wasn’t being too subtle about it. She kicked the other girl under the table.

  Alison’s smile cracked for half a second, just enough to shoot Amanda a quick glare. “Well, I’ll just get out of here and let you boys get cleaned up. Amanda, call me if you all want a ride.”

  Fat chance , she thought. “Alright,” she said aloud.

  Alison rose and headed for the front door; Amanda followed. “He doing okay?” Alison asked, once they were out of earshot.

  “He’s fine. Just hungover.”

  “I’m worried about him. Glad he’s home, but worried, you know?”

  “I know. He’ll be okay. Dylan’s been keeping an eye on him.”

  Alison snorted. “Uh huh, I saw what kind of eye he keeps. I’ll make sure Robbie doesn’t let that sailor-boy corrupt him, don’t you worry.”

  Amanda bit her lip. “I think it’s fine.” She pushed Alison out the door to the front porch. “See you tonight, Al.”

  Alison rolled her eyes, but left with a fake smile. “Later.”

  Celebration

  THE party was going full bore when Amanda found Dylan at the bar by himself. Classic rock blared over the speakers. The thump and clatter of bowling balls sliding down the lanes echoed beneath the chatter of the crowd.

  “You alright?” she yelled over the noise.

  He shrugged, picked up his cup of beer. The bartender waved away his crumpled five dollar bill.

  “No charge for you tonight!” the bartender said.

  “I’m fine,” Dylan said.