Chapter 2
Lee’s voice drops to a barely audible murmur. “Didn’t see you’d come in. Sir.”
“Didn’t see…” Thomas growls in irritation. “I guess you also didn’t see Captain Strickland either, did you?”
Lee dares to look past his commanding officer. Now he sees the ship’s captain, Aurora Strickland, the bemused look on her face a stark contrast to the thinly veiled fury on Thomas’s. Standing straighter, if that’s even possible, Lee snaps off a belated salute. “Captain. My apologies, sir.”
She holds his stare a moment longer. Then, with a barely perceptible nod, she sweeps the rest of the room with her gaze. “As you were, soldiers. The commander and I are only here for a drink.”
Everyone visibly relaxes, but before Lee can move, Thomas is in his face again. “Not you, sunshine,” Thomas says. “Drop and give me twenty.”
Lee sighs. “But Commander—”
“Make that fifty,” Thomas amends.
An unconscious sigh of annoyance escapes Lee. “Sir—”
“Do you want a hundred?” Thomas counters.
Lee doesn’t. What he wants is to go back to his game—the highest ranking officer in the room already gave the command to relax—but he knows better than to go toe to toe with Thomas. The man’s had it in for him ever since he was assigned to Thomas’s command. For some reason Lee hasn’t been able to figureout, Thomas rides his ass harder than any other soldier in their unit. Lee’s always getting extra laps or push-ups, for relatively minor infractions. Hell, he’s just trying to play a damn game, is that too much to ask?
Apparently so. Without another word Lee drops to the floor, landing on his palms and toes, and he startsto roll through the push-ups quickly.
But that isn’t good enough for Thomas. “Count ‘em off,” he orders.
Lee draws in a deep breath to keep from saying anything that will get him into further trouble. On the next push-up, he counts out loud. “Four.”
“From one,” Thomas tells him.
Jesus Christ! Lee keeps his head down so Thomas won’t see him roll his eyes. That’d probably earn him five hundred push-ups, if he isn’t careful. Through gritted teeth, he bites off, “One.”
Thomas stands in front of him a moment longer, until Lee’s up to four again, then turns to join the captain at the bar. Brenna resumes her seat on the cushions beside Lee, grabbing her controller with a smirk on her face. “Guess I’ve got you now, huh, Mallory?”
“Shut up,” Lee grumbles. Louder, he calls out, “Ten.”
“Where were we?” Brenna asks, but it’s a rhetorical question. She arches her brows and takes her time setting up for the killing blow. “Ah yes, I remember. You’re going down.”
“That’s not fair! Wait ‘til I’m done.”
But Brenna laughs. “Too late. I’m’ll deck you. Oh, wait. I already did.”
“Girl,” Lee warns.
From across the room, Thomas hollers, “I don’t hear you counting.”
Lee yells out the next number. “Twelve, sir!”
“No, it isn’t. Start again.”
Fuck me, Lee thinks, biting back an acrid reply. If he isn’t careful, he’ll be on the goddamn floor all night at the rate he’s going.
What’d he ever do to get on the commander’s bad side?
* * * *
To be honest, things between Lee and his CO started off on the wrong foot, and have only gone downhill ever since. Lee’s been assigned to the Nova for five years, but Thomas came aboard about ten months ago, transferred when the squadron’s previous commander was promoted to a position offship. Lee had known they’d be getting a new CO, but figured there would be some sort of official ceremony welcoming and introducing the commander.
The last place he expected to make his new CO’s acquaintance was at the gym.
In Lee’s defense, when he first saw Thomas, he didn’t even know they’d been assigned a new commander yet. At that time, he thought someone already onboard would be promoted to the position, and secretly suspected it would be Brenna. He knew he didn’t have a chance at it—there were more than a handful of reports written up in his file about his lackadaisical attitude, and the old CO had caught him more thanonce playing games on his tablet when he was on duty. He didn’t know they were sending in someone offship, and even if he had, the guy on the pull-up bar looked more like a new recruit than a seasoned commander.
From where he stood by the bench press Brenna was using, Lee watched the guy openly. There was a feline fluidity in his movements, a sensuous motion in the way he lifted himself almost effortlessly head and shoulders above the steel bar. Ankles crossed, knees bent, knuckles white where he gripped the bar. Hisface was ruddy with exertion, making the faint smudge of hair across his scalp appear so light, it almost glowed.