Chapter 15

The hostage rescue mission was our last real enemy contact before we started rounding things up to head back to the good old US of A. We were short timers with only a few weeks left in-country, so we were super alert and focused while on patrol.

Lieutenant Baker and her platoon rotated back to the states the week after the Delta mission. By the time Regina departed our romance of unrequited love was going strong. I missed seeing Regina in person when she left but we ended up talking more when she was back in Indiana helping run her father’s trucking company.

Without the caution enforced on us by our deployment, Regina was even sexier. LT Baker looked good in uniform, but Ms. Baker was spectacular in yoga pants and a crop top. Regina sent me tastefully sexy photos every few days. She said it was to keep morale up. It worked.

Our C-17 landed at Army Airfield on the 15^th of March. In addition to our platoon, we shared the plane with a platoon from Charlie Company. The plane taxied in front of a hanger and the ramp dropped. I saw a crowd of women and children waving small American flags standing on the tarmac. I didn’t pay the crowd much attention as I walked off the ramp with my go bag hung over my left shoulder. I was watching SSG Ruiz kneel down and hug his twin seven-year-old daughters when I was almost knocked off my feet as Mikayla Delong jumped on me.

“I am so happy you are home safe, Johnny,” she tearfully whispered as she hugged me.

I dropped my bags and wrapped my arms around her. I wanted to say something but I suddenly had a lump in my throat, so I just hugged her tighter.

“Seeing you is a very happy surprise, Mickie,” I said, as soon as I got my voice back.

She nodded into my shoulder and sniffled.

“I’m sorry for blubbering all over you, Baby, but I missed you like crazy and now here you are,” she said.

The sun was shining brightly on Savannah with the late Winter temperature hovering around fifty degrees. Mikayla was casually dressed for the weather in designer jeans and an unbuttoned white denim jacket worn over a Tim Tebow, number 15, Florida Gator football jersey. She had brown ankle boots on her feet, her long hair, now colored a medium brown, cascaded over her shoulders. Ray Ban aviators with mirrored lenses were perched on top of her head. She was adorably cute, and she fit right in with the other wives and girlfriends. I was about to ask her how she knew to be here to meet our flight when I heard a high-pitched squeal.

I looked over Mikayla’s head and saw Lana Swistak burst out of the crowd and rush toward the deplaning troops. Lana was not casually dressed. She wore a mink coat over a floor length emerald-green designer gown that highlighted her impressive cleavage. She wore stiletto heels at least five inches tall on her surprisingly small feet, her face was beautifully made up, and her thick honey blond hair was piled on her head in an intricate do. Lana looked every inch the supermodel, but she cut through the crowd like Tiki Barber headed for the goal line. She elbowed a couple of guys out of the way and plastered herself against my buddy JP who was a half dozen people behind me.

“Ti amo così tanto, mio coraggioso gladiatore (I love you so much my brave gladiator),” she wailed as she smothered him in kisses.

I liked Mikayla’s more conservative, yet heartfelt, greeting more than Lana’s, but to each their own, I guess. We Second Platoon guys all gawked as Lana acted as if Sergeant Pettis had just returned from the Holy Land after a five-year Crusade. We all knew they had been together in Italy only a couple of months ago. As JP picked her up and spun her around, I noticed a man with a professional looking video rig filming the loving couple. I pointed out the cameraman to Mikayla.

“Is that guy paparazzi? Say the word and we’ll confiscate his camera,” I said.

Mikayla laughed and put a restraining hand on my arm.

“The guy works for Grande e Bello (Big and Beautiful), a new Italian clothing brand she signed with while she was in Milan. She is going to be the public face of the company,” Mickie explained.

Well, they were certainly getting their money’s worth, and that explained Lana speaking Italian. Lana was a very smart young woman, besides speaking five languages, she also had a head for business. However, her feelings for JP had to be real, because there was nothing a poor Ranger sergeant like JP could do for her career, or her business.

We assembled for a quick formation where the Battalion Commander welcomed us back with some praise for all we had accomplished. He singled out the second platoon for our part in the hostage rescue. The rescue had made the international news although the units involved were never identified. Thankfully he kept it short and so did our Company Commander. Ten minutes later the First Sergeant turned us over to SFC Albert who dismissed us. We all whooped when he cut us loose for four days of compensatory time.

Mickie and I were headed for the parking lot holding hands when a black limo pulled up and stopped just past us. We turned around and looked as a liveried driver jumped out and opened the door for Lana and JP. Lana waved and JP threw me a salute as if they were royalty, and then they climbed in and motored away.

Mikayla had rented a red Mustang GT convertible this trip. She sure loved sporty cars. Once we were in the car, Mikayla leaned across the console, and we shared our first kiss in seven months. Her lips tasted like strawberries, and her hair smelled like coconut. She drove me to the barracks so I could change into civvies and pack for the weekend. It felt strange wearing civilian clothes after six months in uniform. I dumped out my go bag except for my shaving kit and threw in a couple of pairs of jeans and three sweatshirts. I slipped on my favorite Levi 501s, my hiking boots and a long-sleeved ‘Life is Good’ t-shirt. I wore a denim jacket too, but mine was a faded blue with a plaid lining.

The long weekend Mikayla and I spent together was epic. We drove seventy-five miles (115 kilometers) South to a very swank resort Mikayla had reserved on Jekyll Island. When we pulled up to the center building, I finally asked Mickie how she knew about or arrival and four-day weekend.

“Mai Blakemore told me. She is the sweetest person I think I’ve ever met. We talk on the phone once a week or so. When I was worried about you, she always made me feel better. So, we are taking Mai and her family to dinner Saturday night.”

I nodded and kept to myself how unenthused I was at the idea of dining with First Sergeant Blakemore!

We checked in to the resort and were directed to a cottage that had four guest suites. I schlepped our bags up to our second-floor suite. I was surprised that Mickie only had one medium sized suitcase. I thought models needed one suitcase just for grooming supplies. Then again, Mikayla DeLong never acted like a diva.

The suite had a big bedroom with a king-sized bed and a nicely furnished sitting room. French doors in both rooms led out to an ocean view balcony. It also had a bathroom with a bidet and the biggest walk-in shower I’d ever seen. As I looked around, I couldn’t help comparing it to the room Trisha Smith reserved in Kuwait City. I learned my lesson about arguing over the cost and instead marveled at my good fortune.

When I dropped our baggage on the floor of the bedroom and turned around, Mickie flew into my arms. We shared a kiss that should have set our lips on fire.

“I want you now!” Mickie growled when she broke the kiss.

“Ditto, Sweetness, but I need a shower first. I just spent twenty-four sweaty hours trying to get here including 14 of them crammed on an airplane with eighty of my closest friends,” I said.

“Good idea,” she joked, scrunching up her nose and waving her hand in front of her face.

I was shampooing my hair, freshly cut high and tight, when the shower door opened, and all five-foot-ten-inches of naked Mikayla Delong pressed against my back.

“I couldn’t stand you being in here alone. I hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“No, I guess I can sacrifice my modesty this once,” I snarked.

“Some sacrifice,” she replied, as she pinched my ass hard enough to make me jump.

I spun around a grabbed her in a bear hug.

“You’ll pay for that, Wench,” I snarled menacingly.

“Don’t get my hair wet, you brute!” she said.

I drowned out her protests by kissing her. She sighed when I finally, reluctantly pulled my lips from hers. As we stood under the cascading water, I couldn’t help but think how much she reminded me of my sister. There was a physical resemblance as both were tall and well built, but it was more in the way they acted. The were both very intelligent and sweet natured (at least when it came to me). They were reserved in public, but full of sass and teasing good humor when they were among friends. When I thought of another way they were alike, I rushed us through the shower, and we piled into the big king-sized bed.

Mikayla moaned when I started kissing my way down her body.

“I need you, Baby. It’s been so long. I can’t believe how much I missed this,” she said.

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at her face.

“You don’t need give up that part of your life, Mikayla. I love being with you, but we move in different circles. There must be a thousand guys who are better lovers than me that would love to make you feel good. Not to mention all of them being more handsome and wealthier to boot,” I said.

“You are the only man I am remotely interested in, Johnny, and the only one I trust. So until you kick me to the curb, you are stuck with me.”

“I could think of worse fates,” I mused.

Mikayla laughed and spread her arms out to the side knowing she looked gorgeous.

“Yeah, poor you,” she said, and the sarcasm fairly dripped from her voice.

I think I succeeded in helping Mikayla make up for some lost time, but I was too tired, and too jet lagged to last past the first hour. I was embarrassed by my lack of stamina as nothing Mikayla did could raise the Kong from his slumber after I came the second time. I started to apologize for my poor performance, but Mikayla shushed me.

“I know you are tired and sleepy, Johnny. That’s okay, because I am, too. I couldn’t sleep last night I was so excited about seeing you. Just snuggle me up Baby, and let’s nap,” she said.

I could do that, and, in a few seconds, we were spooned naked under the covers. We were lying on our sides, Mikayla’s head on my arm and my other arm wrapped possessively around her. The last thing I remembered was her sighing and kissing my arm.

I woke up with a start, and it took a moment two to get my bearings. The room was dimly lit thanks to the thick drapes, and I was alone in bed. I sat up and saw Mikayla curled up in an armchair drinking a Diet Coke. She was wearing her Tebow jersey and blue, boy shorts. I marveled that she could roll out of bed, with tousled hair and no makeup yet look that good. She saw I was awake and gave me that heart melting smile she seldom wore.

“You look like an innocent little boy when you’re asleep,” she said.

I chuckled and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

“My thoughts are anything but angelic looking at you right now,” I replied.