Combat Boots & Mistletoe

By Tammy Godfrey

Sasha Annabel McGee or Colonel McGee of the United States Army is in command of a Brigade at Fort Drum, New York. When she throws a Christmas party for her headquarters company, it gives her a chance to see Chief Warrant Officers Shawn Sill, one last time. The man, who once saved her life, is now leaving

• Language: English
• Publisher: Warrioress Publishing
• Release date: Dec 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781087908281

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Tammy Godfrey

Combat Boots and Mistletoe

First published by Warrioress Publishing 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Tammy Godfrey

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Tammy Godfrey asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Tammy Godfrey has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

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Contents

Two Weeks Before Christmas

The First Night That Wasn’t

The Christmas Party

FUBAR Fucked up Beyond All Recognition

Afternoon Delight

Not the Night Planned

The Best Week of My Life

The General’s Office

Christmas Dance

Christmas Dance from Hell

Aces or Eights

The Start of Christmas Weekend

First Day of the Promise

The Proposal

Pre-Wedding Jitters

Christmas Wedding

Wedding Night and Christmas Day

Deployment Day

About the Author

Also by Tammy Godfrey

Two Weeks Before Christmas

Chapter Separator

IMUST HAVE DONE something horrid, something unspeakable in a past life to deserve torture like this. I sighed heavily. How long did bad karma last anyway? I felt like I was in one of those Christmas movies where everything was fucked up instead of happily-ever-after.

Mark! My ex-best friend Peggy’s shriek of laughter sliced through the thrum of the bass and the jumble of conversation around them. I drew my attention back to the object of my torture.

Mark’s hand disappeared under Peggy’s shirt and Peggy flushed. Her high voice turned to a husky whisper of, Oh my!

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and instead, imagined the effectiveness of a salad fork as a deadly weapon. If those two didn’t knock it off soon… Sigh, who was I kidding? They’d done this ever since I introduced them. Worst mistake of my life!

Mark was my ex-husband, and a major in the Army. Someone nearby cleared his throat and the couple sprang apart.

Geez Mark, you guys have a room. Give it a break already. Major Smith was sitting next to me. I think he said that more on my account than his. Thank God he did.

Sorry guys, we just can’t help ourselves, Mark Neil retorted, I’ve been gone for two weeks, I’ve missed this sugar. He then squeezed her tight making me want to throw up. Mark had just gotten back from Temporary Duty, or TDY.

I get it. You go away on TDY, come back and go at it like two rabbits on Ritalin. You sleep for a month or two. Then, go at it again in another marathon sex session before your orders for your next TDY come up. That way you have time to recover before you come back, Major Smith said chuckling.

What did I ever see in Mark? We were high school sweethearts and we joined the Army to see the world together, but I was the one who saw the world. My husband always got stationed stateside. I’ve had four tours, two in Iraq and two in Afghanistan. We both managed to fit night school into our busy lives—first he went then I did. After college we went through Officer Candidate School, or OCS. Again he went first followed by me. So you see how my life had gone. The impressive thing was we were able to get conceive children off the to-do list and on the done list.

Our son was now twenty-two and our daughter was twenty. I was able to save their child support and now they are both in college lying to me about their grades and saying that they have no idea what beer pong is. The sad thing is they will both be celebrating Christmas with their dad. It’s like we’re not a real family anymore.

Not us. We have a special love you can’t find just anywhere. Peggy gazed into Mark’s eyes. I thank God every day for letting the two of us find each other.

What the fuck! Thank God? Isn’t there something in the Bible about coveting and stealing another person’s husband? I had no idea what they were talking about at this point, but the churning in my stomach grew worse with every word Peggy spoke. It was bad enough that I had to watch the two of them suck face, and then she had to say the love-you-forever stuff. Gag me!

And we have Colonel McGee to thank for this weekend, Major Smith yelled looking directly at me, To Colonel McGee.

To Colonel McGee, echoed all around me. I felt the telltale burning in my cheeks and my scalp began to itch as all the attention at the bar was on me. This kind of attention never bugged me when I attended official Army functions, but when I was in civvies it was like I was naked and I blushed every time. Crap, this day just couldn’t get any worse.

Speech, speech! all around me echoed.

It just got worse. Biting the inside of my lip, I stood and cleared my throat, I wanted to thank everyone for all the hard work you did to get the battalion to first place, so as such, my Christmas gift to you for winning was a weekend of hiking, rock climbing, and swimming, well at least until we get snowed in. Drink responsibly and don’t make me have to write someone up for getting too drunk. I’m also known as the HMFIC. For the civilians in the crowd that stands for the head mother-fucker in charge. I sat back down and sighed.

Where is that waiter? Didn’t we order refills like an hour ago? Peggy shouted.

Babe, Mark began. Damn, I remember when he used to call me that! There are over a hundred soldiers here. It will take a while to get a drink, Mark pacified her.

I don’t care, you’re a major, you should have your own waitress for this weekend, Peggy said. We all looked at her like she had two heads. Peggy used to have the rank of Captain until she married Mark, who was only a major. What happened? Did she just lose all of her brain-cells momentarily? If anyone deserved a waitress for the evening it would be me because I outrank my ex and his wife.

I’ll go check on the drinks, I said, wanting to escape Peggy and Mark’s presence. Anything was better than sitting there watching the love birds all evening. I weaved between bodies and packed tables like Henry V who walked among his loyal soldiers, anonymous without his crown. I was in civvies and my hair was down, so my soldiers didn’t see a commanding officer walking through the room. They saw just another broad in a bar.

I made my way to the bar and tried in vain to hail the man behind it. With all the soldiers here tonight I would have had an easier time winning the lottery than getting a drink order filled in the next five minutes. I slumped onto the bar and settled in for a long wait.

There was something seriously wrong with my life. How had I come to this, watching the man I divorced five years ago with his current wife, and practically rubbing my face in it? I don’t really want him back, but why couldn’t I have a love life of my own? This was a Charlie Foxtrot. I wished I could hide out for the rest of the weekend. How would it look if the one that planned this fun weekend was hiding out in her room? Mmm…something to think about.

Major Sandy Carter and her husband Sergeant First Class, SFC Jonesy Carter bought this inn in upper New York near Fort Drum. They were told it was haunted and got a great deal on it. They bought it after Jonesy retired. Sandy stayed in the Army for another two years before retiring so they could get the inn remodeled. It was meant to be a winter wonderland get away, but as it had not snowed yet they were having trouble getting it going. So I told her I needed a weekend getaway for my soldiers, and I needed a good price. It worked out for the both of us until my ex-husband signed up to go too. All I can say is, Fuck-a-duck.

As I said before, Peggy was my best friend. When we met we realized we had something in common - the finish line and the desire to cross it first. It was during a company fun run, I was out in front and here came this brand new, fresh out of Reserve Officer Training Course, or ROTC, butter bar wanting to make an impression. I wasn’t wearing my new Captain’s bars, but when she passed me I had no doubt she knew who I was. I gradually picked up the pace and passed her, and then she passed me again. We debated for years after that as to who crossed the finish line first.

Peggy came to our house a lot when I left for my first deployment. This helped my husband and my kids liked her. What I didn’t know was that during my second deployment she moved in for the entire eight months I was gone. Then when I came home from my fourth deployment, two weeks early after being wounded, I found out she was living in my house and playing Mom to my kids. I took my kids aside and found out that they were told by their dad that I was okay with this, and what’s more, I actually wanted it this way. That whore is now married to my ex and I’m all alone. Mark is the only man I’ve been with—is that bad or what?

After I kicked his sorry ass out of the house that I was paying for, I took the child support and started a college fund for the kids. Mark was not aware of the fund. He was telling the kids they had no money for college and had to join the Army.

Honestly, I wanted my kids in college, not the military. It was a great career for me, but I have nightmares of the deployments I’ve been through. I’ve seen the reality of war, I’ve lived it. My motherly instincts tell me to keep my kids at home.

Rolling my eyes at yet another girl showing too much skin, I gave up any attempt to wave down the guy behind the bar. He’d get to me when all the pretty people were served and not a minute sooner. Spying an empty bar stool, I sprang into action, snagging it, while narrowly avoiding an elbow to the head in the process. This woman bared her teeth in an approximation of a smile, and slumped away. Sorry, this one’s taken, I said. I couldn’t resist the little smirk accompanying my apology.

Bitch, she said audibly.

I watched with some amount of amusement as the blonde retreated. I have to admit I just took out my aggression on a total stranger. Sigh, so here I am. My ex and his bitch were practically having sex at their table while the closest I’m getting to sex is this bar stool that swivels.

This bitch took my seat, the blonde said after returning with a boyfriend back up. I turned to see Private Miller looking at me and shock went across his face, then he looked at his girlfriend and back at me.

Colonel McGee, I’m so sorry. She didn’t mean it, Private Miller said.

Who is this bitch? Blondie said as if she didn’t hear him.

My Commander and you should show her some respect,

Private Miller said firmly.

Miller, it’s okay, she didn’t know, I said. In the future though, I suggest you have her understand protocol being around an officer or you may be a private for the rest of your Army career, I told him.

Yes ma’am, Miller said then pulled his girlfriend away from the bar and me.

I needed to stop living in my fantasy land and getting pissed off that no one else was playing along. I’d use this torturous vacation to find some hot random guy and start living for a change. Lord knew, I wasn’t going to spend it at the bar all weekend….well I might if I didn’t get a drink soon.

What can I do for you, pretty lady? came an unknown voice.

I blinked at the handsome man standing in front of me. Had some unknown genie answered my pathetic cry for help?

Hello? he waved his hand in front of my face, What do you want to drink?

Okay so not Prince Charming, just a guy who wanted to take my drink order. I tossed a look over my shoulder at the group’s table. While I’d schlepped all the way over here to get their drinks, they’d been served. And no one thought to come get me? What the fuck?

I’ll have an Irish Whiskey. Neat, I commanded.

He raised an eyebrow at my drink order. I glared back. What? Women weren’t allowed to drink whiskey? Had I been transported back to the 1950s?

Coming right up, was all he said.

There was no way in Hell I was going back to that table tonight. Screw them! My drink appeared in front of me. Without a thought, I picked up my glass and downed it in one slug. My eyes watered and I gasped at the harsh sting accompanying my bit of Irish courage. I signaled as the bartender plopped a second drink down in front of me.

I dug into the front pocket of my blue jeans and came up with a couple of twenties and put them on the bar. The bartender took the money then put the change back on the bar. Slumping into the high back of the bar stool, I surveyed the crowd. Then I saw him—the kind of tall dark resident of my sex-fantasy-land.

Command Sergeant Major Sill. His tanned face and stacked body leaned against the high tabletops with other enlisted NCOs, or Non Commissioned Officers. He was the one guy I fantasized about, but there was no way in Hell I’d get naked in front of someone like that. I’d seen his chest. He was so out of my league. Looking back at my drink, I realized I’m such a schmuck. Pity party, table for one? I picked up my drink and downed it again.

A bark of laughter drew my attention across the room. My breath stalled at the sight of CSM Sill’s chest as he inhaled and exhaled. There standing in profile to me in his green t-shirt that said Army across it, tight blue jeans and tennis shoes was my fantasy man. His brown hair was in a high and tight cut, and completed a five foot ten package that was great to look at. I bit back a groan at the sight of his toned, but not overly muscular, arms as he waved them in the air while talking to the other soldiers at his table. I focused in on his ass and wished I knew if his lower-half matched the upper-half.

My dirty mind drifted back to when I was very close to this man, in Afghanistan, and we were under fire…He threw himself on me as an RPG, Rocket Propelled Grenade, was coming toward us. All I could do was duck and before I knew it he was on top of me shielding my body from the blast. After the dust cleared I noticed he was still on top of me and I knew he was badly hurt. When I carefully rolled him off me, I could see the blood covering me was his. I immediately grabbed the radio and called for help.

I held a pressure bandage to his wound while the other soldiers secured the perimeter and the medics arrived. The After Action Report said it all happened in about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I knew he suffered severe physical trauma, so when he was transported to Germany for surgery, I went with him. I mean, I had my own injuries to deal with, and most injured Army personnel were sent to Germany for treatment, but I spent most of my time at his bedside.

Sill didn’t have a wife, but I think most of the people at the hospital thought we were married. I was there when he woke up.

How do you feel Sill? I asked.

Please call me Shawn, Sill said. Like a RPG went off next to me. Thank you, you didn’t have to jump on me to protect me, I said sheepishly.

Yes, I had to…not for you…but for me… taking a deep breath between each phrase he said, You’re my…everything. Sill was delusional right now, he had to be.

What can I do for you? I asked as he reached for my hand and I gave it to him.

Forty-eight hours where I’m the boss over you and you have to do whatever I say. I mean whatever I say. How many meds have they given him today? I wondered. Then the thought thrilled me to let him have me for two full days. Being married did put a chink in it, but with all the drugs in his system, he probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation.

Yes, I’ll be yours for forty-eight hours if you get over all this and come back and work for me, I said.

Deal, he agreed, and he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

I promise, as I reached down and kissed his lips.

I snapped out of the past into the present and saw his face staring back at me. A slow cocky grin curved his lips. Oh God! He was every bit as gorgeous as I always thought he was and he’d just caught me checking out his ass… Damn, I whispered.

I ducked my head and focused on swirling my glass, wanting more to drink. The flush that crept across my cheeks meant I was really bright red for the second time that night. Maybe I should take the hint and go up to my room and hide out till the weekend was over, or I might die of mortification by the end of the night.

Is this seat taken? a smooth masculine voice spoke six inches from my face. I looked up and right into the eyes of CSM Sill. How did he? Why was he? I looked between him and the magically empty bar stool next to me.

I…I…uh-no, no one’s sitting there, I panicked. Someone just kill me, I’m done!

The stool screeched across the floor as he pulled it back to sit down next to me. Great, right next to me, so close I could feel his body heat on my own body. Then there was the smell of his cologne, the smell of Polo, the one cologne I loved and he knew it. The one my ex-husband never liked and would never wear. He was a Brut man—I hated that smell.

When I was doing a command inspection two years back I smelled the Polo and knew who was wearing it. Later, CSM Sill asked me how I knew it was Polo and I said it’s hard not to know the cologne you wish the guy of your dreams would wear. I was not thinking when I said that. Now I tried to calm the butterflies dancing around in my stomach.

Do you come here often? I asked, pretending I didn’t know him.

No, not really, CSM Sill said, I’m Shawn by the way. He held his hand out to me.

Nice to meet you Shawn, I shook Sill’s hand and enjoyed its firm, work-roughened feel. I could easily imagine it all over my skin.

Did he remember that talk in his injured state in Germany?

And your name is… he prompted causally.

Sasha, Sasha McGee.

Nice to meet you Sasha, he said. I nodded and looked down at my glass. God, I am such a dweeb.

Can I have my hand back? Sill asked. Don’t get me wrong, I do like holding your hand.

I jerked my hand away as if I had been burned. Lord knew my cheeks were scarlet. Sorry.

No problem, he said smoothly.

So why are you doing this Sill? I asked, afraid of the answer.

Shawn, he said. I’m collecting on a promise. I sat stunned by what he had just said, not saying a word. Remember, the promise you made five years ago? You’re mine, for the next forty-eight hours, he said in a commanding tone I knew so well.

We can’t fraternization remember? I said making a weak attempt at protocol. Then he handed me a paper and I looked down at it. You were promoted today. I thought that was next week, I said looking at the paper again. He had been promoted to Warrant Officer two—I went numb.

It’s not fraternization if I’m an officer, Sill said. Are you in?

I nodded. My fantasy man was hitting on me and I couldn’t form a coherent sentence. I concentrated on taking deep breaths and tried to get my pounding heartbeat under control. I could do this. I wanted to do this, but I didn’t speak.

So what brings you to this bar? he prompted since I didn’t say anything.

You know the answer to that, I stated. If I had any doubt about Sill’s interest, it melted away with my inhibitions. He liked me. The bartender poured me another drink, but this time I sipped, trying to keep my excitement and fear from showing all over my face.

If you’re not up to it tonight, I can plan for this another time. I tried not to choke on the whiskey. Too late, I was choking now and Sill was patting my back in an attempt to get me breathing once more.

A promise is a promise. I had dreamed and fantasized about this and it now was happening.

Sill braced his palm on the bar top, his arms tense like he was going to push away.

Were you checking out my ass earlier?