Read Online Marrying Daisy Bellamy by Susan Wiggs - Free Book Online

lot.
    â€œHey, buddy.” Logan hunkered down and freed the little boy from the car seat. “I’ve been waiting to see you all day.”
    â€œDad.” Charlie clung to him like a monkey and they kissed.
    Daisy watched, caught by fondness and exasperation both. Complicated. That was the word for her life. How simple everything would be if only she could believe she was supposed to be with Logan. The three of them together—a family. What was wrong with her? She and Logan had made this amazing child. Why couldn’t they be happy together?

Five
    T he officer in the mirror stared back at Julian with a sense of grave purpose. Who was this intensely serious guy? He didn’t even recognize himself. Was that him?
    Like so much of officer training, this was a deliberate strategy on the part of the air force. Through all the drills and preparation, the individual was taken apart and remade, perhaps reborn in a way. This suited him fine, dumping a past he couldn’t change for one he could control. He was learning to look the part—an officer. A leader. A warrior.
    â€œMy, my,” said Davenport, letting loose with a wolf whistle. “Aren’t you as sweet as honey?”
    â€œScrew you.” The man in the mirror grinned, appearing a little more familiar now. Then he checked the time. “I’m ready to get the show on the road.”
    â€œHave a seat. We’ve still got a half hour.”
    â€œCan’t,” said Julian.
    â€œCan’t what?”
    â€œCan’t sit down. Do you know how long it took me to get these creases right?”
    â€œHours and hours,” Davenport said with a laugh; then he sobered. “Dude, you look like a million bucks. Or at least like you’ve earned the commission you’re getting today.”
    Julian had no idea if his suite-mate was right. He’d worked his ass off, but given the nature of his first assignment, whether or not he was prepared could be anybody’s guess. The most frustrating thing about the news was its top secret classification. He couldn’t tell anybody the details. He didn’t even know most of the details himself. For the past year, he’d been groomed to be part of a special team, a highly unlikely designation for someone at his level. Although he knew his base assignment, he could tell people only that he’d been commissioned for active duty.
    He shook hands with his friend, and Davenport resumed his jocular air. “I might advise you to go for a short walk to clear your head, but that would be a bad idea.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œYou are way too pretty in full dress uniform. You’ll end up going through the whole ceremony dragging along an entourage of drooling women.”
    â€œRight. And how many women do you know who get turned on by the sight of brass buttons and epaulettes?”
    â€œI guess you’re about to find out.”
    Julian checked out his service dress uniform again, making sure every detail was right. Ribbons, devices, badges, insignia—all present and accounted for. Stuck in the side of the mirror was a five-year-old photo of him and Daisy, standing side by side, laughing at the camera. He remembered the exact instant it had been taken, with the shutter on timer. She’d made him laughby saying, “Okay, pretend you like me,” knowing full well they were totally into each other.
    He was glad he remembered because otherwise he might not even believe the kid in the picture had ever existed. That tall, skinny kid with waist-length dreadlocks, assorted tattoos and piercings and a bad attitude was a stranger to the clean-cut officer in the mirror. Julian had been a punk—an adrenaline junkie with not much going for him except an unexpectedly stellar academic record and test performances. And of course, his status as a minority. He didn’t want people to assume race was the reason he’d been admitted to an Ivy League school and