Page 1 of The Commander

CHAPTER ONE

QUINN

Two years ago

Fort Cavazos, Texas

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“Mom, I have to go,” I say, holding the door handle of my room with the phone pressed to my ear.

The moment I walk out into the hallway, I’ll be surrounded by soldiers and those I must salute. You’d think I’d be used to it after being at Fort Cavazos, one of the largest Army posts in the US, for the past twenty-four months.

I’m out of basic training and now a 2LT, or Second Lieutenant. There are plenty of opportunities to be promoted if I don’t mess up and let my attraction to a certain Commander get in the way of my future.

I haven’t yet. (Mostly.)

And I won’t.

“Are you going to be home for Thanksgiving, Quinn? It’s a simple question.”

Ugh.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Unlikely.

I need to focus on my fitness level to pass my next training test, and because Captain Jenkins rides my ass harder than anyone else I know, I need to be at the top of my game.

I know why he does it.

The same reason I refuse to date anyone wearing a uniform. Well, sort of. From the moment I stepped foot on this base, the men here have echoed my father. The fact that he is the colonel doesn’t help.

You’d think in this day and age, attitudes would’ve changed toward women in the military. For some, they have. Not for me. Perhaps it’s my small frame and short height. Being five-foot-four and one hundred ten pounds doesn’t exactly scream warrior status, but small and nimble doesn’t mean a GI is a hindrance.

In fact, in the late twelfth century in Japan, Tomoe Gozen, a female samurai in the Genpei War, led three hundred soldiers against thousands. She was one of the most celebrated onna-musha (female samurai) in Japanese history.

So, I’m just saying.

Except that’s not what this is about. Some of the guys in my platoon made derogatory comments when I started basic training, expecting me to fail.

I didn’t.

When I began to do well, it clearly upset them, and then they began to seek out reasons. Because obviously my hard work and tenacity weren’t the reason.

Let me backtrack.

Day one, I’m green as the grass when I’m standing at attention and meeting our commanding officer.

Noah.

I mean, Captain Jenkins.

He strides out in his uniform, wearing it like it was designed for his tall, broad frame. When he stopped in front of me and I got a good look at his square jaw, strong brows, and deep brown eyes, I swallowed.

In response, his nostrils flared.

But it was my core that truly responded. An attraction I’d never felt before burned inside me as we looked at one another.