Seduced by the Soldier

by Melia Alexander

  “And you’re still doing it.”

  Damn it. He blew out a breath. Clearly, his mother was determined to finish this conversation. “You mean not complaining? Because I could start now.”

  She shot him a hard stare. “You’re still playing the caretaker role for people instead of doing what you want to do with your time. Case in point: your trip to Germany.”

  “I did it because it was the right thing to do,” he protested. “Zandra had never traveled overseas before.”

  “Maybe so, but did you even think twice about the concert tickets to one of your favorite rock bands that you’d had to give up?” She eyed him. “And now I find out that not only do you want to go to law school, but instead of getting out of the Army and doing it, you re-enlisted so you could pay for me to go to medical school.”

  He blinked. Jeez. He’d forgotten about the concert tickets, hadn’t thought twice about them since he’d given the pair to a homeless vet program to be raffled off. “First off, it was just a concert. Secondly, like I’d said, I’ll get my chance after you graduate.”

  “Which I now realize conveniently falls around the time your Army contract ends,” she said drily. She blew out a breath and stared at him. “But you do know this overprotective mode you’re in is probably part of the reason you’re having trouble with Zandra.”

  Well, that’d teach him to want to change topics again. “I already said I wouldn’t ask her to give up photography.”

  “Who says you have to ask her to give anything up?”

  Blake stared. “Well, I’m not giving up my plans.”

  “Who says she’d ask you to do that?”

  Maybe she wouldn’t, but he knew that successful relationships meant investing time in each other. How could they do that if hundreds of miles of air space separated them? Maybe an entire ocean or continent, too? He was dumb enough at one point to think it could work, but he knew better now.

  “Honey,” she said, her voice gentle, “that’s not what’s at the root of all this. The question you have to ask yourself is whether or not your overprotective behavior is going to change anything.”

  “What are you getting at?” He frowned. “Maybe I do take care of the people I care about, but I don’t expect anything back from them, nor do I expect it to change anything in my life.”

  “Not even bring your father back?”

  He stilled at the quietly asked question then swallowed. He and his mother had never talked about that night, and while he’d expected the topic to come up one day, he hadn’t thought it’d be in a tiny tea house in the heart of Tokyo. Yet somehow, every reason to hold back seemed to fall away as easily as the sun breaking through the clouds over the city. “I couldn’t help him, you know.”

  “You were only four. Surely you’re not blaming yourself for his death, are you?”

  A sharp pain struck him in the chest, and he breathed deeply, tried to ease it. “I could see them,” he said quietly, his mind’s eye taking him back to that fateful night when his life was forever changed. “Those two guys in the convenience store. I was in my booster seat, and I could see Dad trying to protect the gas station attendant. Then the gun went off.”

  He’d alternated between screams and cries until his mother held him an hour or so later. He remembered regularly putting his toys away after that in an effort to stop his mother’s tears, and although they eventually stopped falling, he’d learned to keep his room clean and did laundry as soon as he could move a stepladder close enough to the washer, and also learned how to cook…

  Holy shit. He blinked. That’s really when it had all started for him. He stared across the small table as scene after scene continued to play from some deep recess in his brain. “You’re right,” he finally said. “I’ve been doing it practically my whole life and never realized it.”

  She leaned forward. “Blake, when your father died, I was almost sure my life was over. But then I realized something.”

  “That you had kids who needed you, so that’s when you rallied.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I realized I had myself to live for.”

  He raised an eyebrow. Not the answer he expected, especially since his mother had been pretty selfless, sacrificing much to give him and Lily the best she could. That his grandfather had been around for a few years was a bonus.

  “Make no mistake, I loved your father. To this day, he was the most amazing man I’ve ever met, a man I respected and cherished and who I knew felt the same way about me. But I also know that I decide the course of my existence, no matter who is a part of it. Now you have to do the same.” She smiled encouragingly. “Because no matter how protective you are of the people around you, your dad’s not coming back.”

  He blinked at the deep stab of emotion in his chest, unable to deny it any longer. That he’d spent most of his adult life trying to bring him back was a huge bitch slap right now. “You’re right,” he said through the lump in his throat. He was powerless to change things, but he could affect the future—his future.

  And maybe Zandra’s, too?

  “Your life isn’t in the past,” his mother continued. “That’s where you’ve been living, but it isn’t really living. Living is now. Living is doing what’s right for you, for what you want, not just what other people want, because your life matters, too. You know, some would argue that my life didn’t work out. I would argue otherwise. I raised two kids then took a chance on reaching for my dreams thanks to those kids. It took a long time, but look at me now.”

  She sat back and toyed with her teacup. “If you’re brave enough to see where things go with Zandra, no matter what happens, I think you’ll discover that your life will work out, maybe even better than you expected.”

  He blew out a breath and stared out the window at the throng of people. Maybe his mom was right. She usually was. Maybe choosing to be with Zandra didn’t have to mean giving up his own dreams. Maybe there was a way they could make a long-distance relationship work.

  He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and felt the unmistakable glass heart. At first, he was sure it was the dumbest impulse buy he’d ever made, but now hope bloomed like the last of the cherry blossoms on the tree across the street.

  All he had to do was figure out a way to convince Zandra to take a chance on them.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It had been three days since Zandra had landed in Guam. Unlike the fast-paced European trip a few weeks ago, life on the tropical island was far more relaxed, as were the native Chamorro people. It might’ve had something to do with the sunshine and soft tropical breeze or the exotic food or even the easygoing nature of the island’s residents. Whatever it was, she was thoroughly enjoying this assignment.

  So far, she and her brother had attended a village fiesta, complete with a whole-roasted pig at the center of the buffet table. They’d hiked through jungle to see a remote waterfall and donned a suit to walk the ocean floor. She’d loved it.

  Blake would’ve loved it, too.

  She quelled the sharp stab to her chest and stared through the camera lens, her focus on the thousands of colorful foam hearts inscribed with names and messages and dates. Cologne had its Lock Bridge, and Guam had Two Lovers’ Point, a cliff line that towered over the northern end of breathtakingly beautiful Tumon Bay.

  It seemed fitting that tourists would want to leave a symbol of love at one of the island’s most visited attractions. It was, after all, a place where a centuries-old love was founded only to be tragically lost a short time later.

  But what kind of parents insisted that their daughter marry for anything other than love? Or who’d disapprove of their daughter’s choice because the guy wasn’t some wealthy Spanish captain, but from a modest, local family instead? There was more to life than money. Zandra knew that better than most, and so far, leaving the security that money brought had been so freeing. Look at
all she’d experienced since leaving the family business. First, an assignment that had taken her through three European countries and, now, a visit to a tropical paradise. She couldn’t ask for much more. At least, that’s what she told herself.

  Zandra lowered the camera and adjusted the settings.

  Well, one thing’s for sure, no way would she allow anyone, especially her parents, to dictate who she should marry. She’d have taken the same route the young lovers did, tying their long hair together and jumping off the cliff rather than live a life that would have been nothing short of miserable.

  “How’s the shot?”

  She smiled at her brother. It hadn’t taken long to get into the rhythm of the photo shoot, with Jackson automatically making adjustments to each scene.

  In much the same way Blake had.

  And there was that stabbing feeling to her chest again, the kind that came each time she thought of him. It was as if her heart held out some false hope that things could be different between them, but it was impossible. They both knew it.

  “Zandra?”

  She blinked. Jackson had asked a question. What was it again? Oh, that’s right… “The shot’s fine.” She swiped at the drop of sweat on her forehead, while the tourists who walked around them seemed immune to the tropical humidity. “I’ll frame this one off-center, with part of the cliff jutting out.”

  It was the same section of cliff that local legend claimed represented the young female lover, her profile eternally etched in rock. She waved Jackson over and opened up her Instagram app. “I’m doing another IG live.”

  “Now? Weren’t you just on it?”

  She rolled her eyes. Another one who didn’t understand the importance of social media. “Now. And, for the record, I haven’t been on since last night at the village fiesta in Santa Rita. Besides, I have a few followers who said they set their notifications because they were excited to see a behind-the-scenes live.”

  Zandra walked away from the crowd, sucked in a deep breath, and practiced a smile. Bubbly and playful and fun—all the things she didn’t feel at the moment but had to conjure up anyway. She could do this. Blake had taught her how, and she—

  Ugh. Blake again.

  Okay. Deep breath. She stared beyond the metal rails to the seemingly endless ocean beyond, the waters of the vast Pacific crashing onto the base of the cliff below. Behind her, tourists jostled for real estate along the wall, conversing in Asian languages and carrying selfie sticks like an important travel accessory.

  It was just another day in paradise.

  “You ready?” Jackson raised an eyebrow expectantly. “The sun’s pretty bright, just so you know.”

  Ah, yes, his way of telling her to hurry up already. She blew out a deep breath and nodded. With a tap, she opened up the live feed and waited for the connection. She waved as the viewer count started to rise. “Hey there, everyone.” Zandra spread an arm out and grinned. “Welcome to Guam. So this is my third day on the island, and it’s been an absolute blast. Yesterday my brother and I hiked through the jungle to Talofofo Falls. I posted some pictures from it last night, and I’ll link it to a story this afternoon so it’ll be easier to find.

  “Anyway, Talofofo Falls was gorgeous and definitely worth the trek.”

  She peered at the screen and the smattering of comments that scrolled up. “Hey, Tina.” She grinned and waved at the screen. “Yes, I’m still alive. No, I haven’t forgotten that you’re getting married next weekend.” She laughed. “I’ll be there, so quit worrying already.”

  She panned the camera, keeping herself outside the shot as much as possible. “Isn’t this place beautiful?” She paused, letting it capture the foam hearts. “The hearts are so cool, aren’t they? You all know how much I love hearts.”

  The heart is the sign of life. While it beats, there is time to love, to laugh, to live. But you must do so quickly because you do not know how long it will continue to beat.

  From the past, Jacques’ words reached out to her and made her smile.

  She scanned the questions once more. “No, the hearts are made out of foam so are quite light. Hey again, Natalie. I’m getting ready to shoot a cultural session with some of the island’s local weavers a little later this afternoon. They’ll be making bags, bowls, hats, and even jewelry all from coconut fronds. It’s very cool!”

  She peered closer at the screen and read off some of the questions. “A coconut frond is—”

  Zandra blinked at her phone screen and the male figure behind her. What the… “Blake?”

  She spun around to face him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had a few days leave, and I thought I’d pop in and see how you were doing.”

  “From Japan?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? It’s a short plane trip away.”

  The longing rolled in, as hard and fast as the waves a surfer would ride. She swallowed it down, tamped it as hard as she could…and failed miserably.

  God, she’d missed him. Really missed him. But there was no reason to think his presence was anything more than a polite hello before he went off and did Blake things…was it?

  “You’re going to lose that thing over the cliff,” Jackson said, reaching for her phone. “Hand it over.”

  Shock clearly took over as she handed her brother the phone. “What the hell’s happening here?”

  “Talk to Blake.” Jackson turned and held the phone away from him. “Hey there. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Jackson, Zandra’s older brother.” He waved. “She’s a bit indisposed at the moment.”

  “Zandra?”

  She closed her eyes, savoring the melody Blake’s voice created when it melded with the sounds of the lapping waves of the Pacific Ocean on the rocks below.

  With a deep breath, she turned, still half wondering if she was imagining things. “Blake.” He looked so damn good in a T-shirt and board shorts, it was all she could do to stop from hauling herself into his arms. She swallowed past the rapid thumping of her heart and fisted her hands to her sides.

  “How did you find me?”

  “Instagram.” He held up his phone. “I opened an account and set my notifications. Last night you said you’d be at Two Lovers’ Point, so here I am.”

  Zandra blinked. He’d opened an Instagram account? For Blake to do so was huge, but what did it mean? “So now you’re stalking me?”

  “No.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  He pulled his sunglasses off and propped them onto his ball cap. “I brought you this,” he said, holding out his hand. There, in his palm, was a gold key encased in a vividly colorful swirled glass heart.

  She stared, emotion welling up inside her, threatening to overtake her. “This was from Strasbourg,” she whispered, taking the heart from him. It felt warm in her hand. More than that, it felt right.

  “From the glass shop,” he confirmed.

  The world faded away until all she saw was Blake. He readjusted his ball cap, his gaze latched onto hers like he never intended to let go.

  “I remember that place,” she said slowly. The vulnerability and sincerity etched in his toffee-brown eyes took her breath away. “How…why… I didn’t see you buy this when we were there.”

  “Well, I did.”

  He did. Obviously. Questions swirled through her brain much like the colors of the heart, but she chose to ask the most obvious one. “Why?”

  Blake reached for her hands, the glass encased between their palms as shivers of electricity traced through her. “You see hearts wherever you look. And when you look at this, I want you to know that you are the key to my heart, to my future. I want you to know that, no matter what happens, no matter where we end up, my heart belongs to you.”

  God, she wanted to believe him, yet she still held back. “But we have to be realistic, Blake. We’re o
n two different paths, and there’s practically little hope we’d get to spend much time together. How’re we supposed to make a relationship work?”

  He squeezed her hand, the heart pressing into her palm as memories of their time in Europe flooded her brain. “So it’ll be a long-distance one. So what? People do it all the time, and I know we’ll figure it out.”

  His smile crossed the small gap between them and chipped at the wall around her heart, but she still couldn’t bare her heart to his. “Didn’t you once say that you didn’t want anything to screw with your path? Hate to break it to you, but a relationship would definitely do it.”

  He nodded, his gaze not leaving hers. “I thought it would, but then I realized that Jacques and Martine were right. Reaching for my future means that much more with the right person around to share it with. If I have that, there’s no way my life could get messed up.”

  “And you’re sure I’m the right person? Why?”

  He seemed to consider that for a brief moment. “I love your optimism,” he said. “Your sense of adventure…the way you focus on your work…how you never give up, even if it means countless lessons on how to read a train schedule.”

  “But I have opinions that don’t always agree with yours,” she pointed out.

  “Which forces me to examine life from a different angle. This isn’t a bad thing.”

  “What about law school? You’re still going to law school, aren’t you? Because there’s no way I’m letting you leave your dreams behind.”

  “I’m still going to law school.” He squeezed her hands again. “It’ll work out. It’ll all work out. With you in my life, how could it not?”

  Could he mean it? Could he really want her in his life? “I’m not giving up my photography career.”

  “I’d never ask you to do that.” He shook his head. “Capturing the essence of who people are, of what it’s in their soul, that’s your superpower. It’s who you are. I’d never want you to walk away from that.”

  “You’d better accept it,” Jackson said. “At least, if your followers have anything to say about it, you will. And Tina thinks you need to bring him to the wedding.”