Page 3 of Jenny
Not Jenny.
She’d gone into the bottle toss with zero expectations. Oh, she’d hoped it might work out, but deep in her heart of hearts, she had a feeling it wouldn’t. She might write fiction, but her life was no storybook. Her romantic past read more like a comedy—a dark one. She’d assumed a tanker or cargo ship would run over her bottle and the note would never be read. But now…
Jenny tapped on the subject line.
Message in Bottle Found
DOR2008@…
To: Jenny <8675309@…>
Message received, Jenny. I assume that’s your name. 867-5309 is one of my mom’s favorite songs.
Bottle found on a beach in Key West.
An asteroid has a better chance of causing an ELE than an EMP. Just sayin’.
Roswell, seriously? You should be more embarrassed about that than someone reading your message in a bottle. Guess you’re a Bigfoot believer, too.
DOR
P.S. I am single and male, but not in the market for a soul mate. Hope you’ve found your true love.
Well, her bottle had at least reached an unmarried guy. What were the odds of that?
She laughed at his last line.
Jenny hadn’t found her one true love, but that was okay. She had room for only one man in her life.
Yep, good old Ashton Thorpe.
He might only live in her mind and on the pages of her novels, but he was the ultimate book boyfriend—the kind of guy men aspired to be. Her series that featured him had made more money than she’d ever imagined having, and Ash would soon grace the big screen in what the producers hoped would be a successful movie franchise.
He was made for that kind of stardom… if the actor slated to play Ash could pull off his combination of courage, daring, and hotness. The right amount of swagger wouldn’t hurt, either.
Larger than life was the only way to describe Ash. Perfect was another. Make believe, yes, but no guy she’d dated could compete. Although… she hadn’t given up hope one would someday.
Jenny read the message again. The fact DOR knew the song she used for her email address impressed her. That the bottle reached Key West didn’t surprise her given the currents and the amount of time that had passed. The Roswell and Bigfoot comments brought a much-needed smile to her tired face.
Yawning, she typed off a quick reply. The cursor hovered over the send button.
Another yawn.
In the morning, Jenny would likely regret she’d responded, but she was too tired to care now. She hit send.
****
Army Sergeant Darragh, aka Dare, O’Rourke needed a shower and a nap, not necessarily in that order, but both would have to wait until after the debriefing. As he sat on a bench waiting for the rest of his squad to arrive, he pulled out his cell phone. His mom and his three sisters had texted, but nothing urgent.
Staff Sergeant Mitch Hamilton lumbered up and sat next to Dare. They’d deployed together numerous times. Hamilton was a couple of years older and an excellent leader, one who knew when to get in a soldier’s face or act like a big brother.
Yep, usually, he was in Dare’s face.
Hamilton stretched out his long, dust-covered legs. “Love training at the range for a few days, but I’m going to enjoy having a long weekend off. I hope Lizzy doesn’t hand me a honey-do list the minute I walk through the door.”
“Given she does every weekend you are home, I’d say rest up now, Sergeant.”
“You’re right.” Hamilton laughed. “Any plans, O’Rourke?”
