The Letter by Mina Carter

Author:Mina Carter [Carter, Mina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, War, Romance, Military, Paranormal, 90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), Calendar Men: Mr. July
Amazon: B00LF05VCG
Publisher: Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Published: 2014-06-29T04:00:00+00:00

***

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Hattie hid her grin at Rick’s indignant splutter as he stared at the costumes the photographer had brought along.

“I know I said I’d do this.” He wrinkled his nose and lifted one of the outfits, more like a collection of straps than an article of clothing, although he seemed to recognize it. “But do I have to dress up like bloody Rambo as well?”

“Wear whatever you feel comfortable wearing,” the photographer, a last minute replacement for the one Mr. Russo had arranged, called over. She’d introduced herself as Jamie. Young, and blonde, she was rather chirpy. A little too chirpy and interested in Rick for Hattie’s liking. “What’s important is that you don’t worry about me pointing the camera at you.”

He huffed. “Lass, I am…was…a professional soldier. You pointing a camera won’t worry me. An RPG, maybe, but nae a camera.”

Jamie laughed, a light, melodious sound that grated on Hattie’s last nerve. “I promise to only shoot you in a good way. Just have a look around, but if you don’t like anything in there, tactical pants, dog tags, and some camouflage paint will do. The more flesh we get, the more of these calendars we’ll sell.” Looking into her bag, she frowned. “Oh, damn. I need my backup. You guys be cool there while I run and get it?”

“Oh, sure thing, hon.” Hattie leapt on the opportunity, giving the blonde her best smile. “Take your time. We’ll be ready for you when you get back.”

Jamie disappeared out to her car and Hattie caught a small grin playing at the corners of Rick’s lips.

“What?” she demanded, avoiding his gaze to pick up a small bag from the props box. Silver chains slithered out and three sets of dog tags fell into her hands.

“Oh, nothing.” The deep chuckle said he’d noticed her avoiding his gaze. “I’m good. Thought you were gonna start snarling there for a moment, though.”

She unknotted the chains from their stranglehold on each other and held them out for his approval.

Flicking a glance at them, he grimaced. “I’m no’ wearing them. They’re the wrong bloody shape.”

“Huh? What do you mean the wrong shape? They’re like Billy used to wear.” She examined the necklaces. Dog tags were dog tags, weren’t they? How could they be the wrong shape?

“Ach,” Rick huffed, his accent thicker than normal. She’d noticed that about him earlier. When he’d spoken in the car, telling her what happened, his lovely burr had become pronounced. She liked it, but not if he had to get stressed for her to hear it.

“It’s just me being daft.” He picked one of the chains, looping it around his neck. “British ones are different.”

“They are? How odd.”

He started to unbutton his shirt and hijacked her attention by each new sliver of skin he revealed. She’d seen him with his shirt off before, when he’d shown her his scars. But that had been different. Not out and out ogling.

“Should I give a little twirl?”

Damn it, he’d caught her staring again.

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