Cyrus: M.E.D.I.C.S.: A Steamy Instalove Military Medical Romance

by Pandora Snow

  They both chuckle, Everett calling Matthis over, round three for Matthis on the job front. He's struggling to leave the war behind, still taking personal responsibility for every life we lost. He forgets to count the hundreds of lives we saved.

  "A toast to our newly employed Sergeant," I offer, downing the beer in one refreshing gulp.

  Snake jabs Matthis about a potential love interest at the Army Rehabilitation Center. Lauralynn's sexy voluptuous body saunters lazily through my mind in her sky-high heels.

  "What's this?" Snake asks me, too damn perceptive for his own good.

  "Looks like another good man may be down at the expense of an irresistible sexy woman."

  "Shut up," I reply, another bottle put to my mouth. I haven't even taken Lauralynn on a date yet. I'm not sure she'll want her father to find out if we do start a relationship. This may get tricky. For now, I'll deflect the comment.

  "I confess. The hot wife of one of my workers came by the site to bring him lunch. A guy can hope, right?"

  "Yeah, a guy can hope," Snake says quietly. It seems he's also been shot in the heart by Cupid's arrow, a woman he can't touch.

  "Thursday?" I ask, throwing a few bills on the table and standing to leave.

  "I'm in. Ian may join us, you know, if that fiancé of his will unlock the chains for the night," Everett laughs.

  We're all jealous of Ian in our own way. He's made a great life for himself since returning from active duty. His surprise proposal to Sarah was first class. Despite her enviable sexy body, I'd never want to find myself needing to live up to my secret promise.

  I'm sure Ian knows he can count on me when he needs a friend. What would mean more to us than anything, though, is knowing Drake is safe.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lauralynn's Audi is already on site as I park next to the trailer. Mike's anxiously standing at the door, urgently waiting to talk to me.

  "Morning, Boss. Miss Gates is in the model home. She wants to speak with you about design changes. Maybe she found the flaw in her layout."

  "Thanks, Mike," I hesitantly say, taking a mug of hot coffee with me and heading towards the home.

  I thought about her all night, sleep eluding me. The internal intelligence and confidence she embodies match her voluptuous body. I plan to listen and offer support from a professional perspective, before inquiring about our scheduled date this evening.

  "Good Morning, Miss Gates," I call out as I walk in the front door, all of the lights illuminated.

  "Good Morning, Mr. Garrison," she says quietly, only momentarily looking me in the eyes.

  Her MacBook, plans, and sketchbook are on the kitchen island. From the looks of her disarray, she was up all night too. The long curly strands are disheveled, and her soft teal shift dress is wrinkled. I need to stop her for a moment and ensure she's alright.

  My hand cups her elbow as she's leaning over the counter to measure the backsplash. She raises her eyes to mine; vulnerability overshadowing her CEO confidence.

  "Hey," I say tenderly, noticing her fighting back the tears.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Garrison. I take full ownership of the error. I'll have the new cabinets built and installed as quickly as possible."

  "Lauralynn, look at me," I say softly, her sight returning down.

  All composure is lost, her bare smooth arms wrapping around my neck, her head delicately laying on my chest. I feel the hot tears falling from her flushed cheeks as I embrace her fully in my protective arms. My heart bursts with compassion as I rock her gently back and forth, resting my chin against her silky messy hair.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Mike walk in, open his mouth, and immediately walk back out. Smart man.

  "Tell me why you're crying, Lauralynn. We both understand correcting the plans will cost Gates Development a few thousand dollars, but that's not the end of the world." Out of respect for both her and her father, I choose not to mention I overheard yesterday's conversation.

  There aren't any towels or paper good in the kitchen yet, so I offer her my sleeve to wipe the tears. I wish I could kiss them away. She steps back and places a few loose strands of hair around her ear, steadying her breath. This cannot just be about the damn cabinets.

  "Thank you for being so kind, Cyrus," she says quietly, gazing her open, exposed eyes into mine. This is the first time she's uttered my name from her plump pink lips. I'm lovestruck.

  The tape measure returns to her hand, and she re-evaluates the backsplash. I'm dying to know more, but she's not ready to talk. We log all of the necessary dimensions, and she inputs them into the computer. She starts talking, more to herself, about this wood and that tile. I have a sudden brilliant idea for a date with her tonight, but I need confirmation we're still on.

  "I'd love to take you to dinner, Lauralynn. I promise no talk of business or construction. Can we put our weapons down for a night and have some fun?"

  She stares up at me from the keyboard, releasing a warm, shy smile. Hot damn.

  "I would enjoy that, Cyrus. Could you pick me up at my apartment, say six pm?" She sends me an email with her address as she's talking.

  "I'll be there," I reply enthusiastically, our plans bringing an ounce of joy back into her face. The county fair is in town, and as childish as it sounds, we both need to run around like carefree kids for a few hours.

  ***

  Lauralynn has no sooner left the parking lot when Mr. Gates calls.

  "Cyrus, did Miss Gates make the corrections this morning?" He's calling to check up on her at eight o'clock in the damn morning. I've only known her for twenty-four hours, but I trust she always completes her assignments and meets deadlines.

  "Yes, Mr. Gates," I reply in an impatient voice, unwilling to elaborate. I'm irritated with his attitude towards me, and especially towards Lauralynn last night.

  "I'm sorry she caused so many problems for you. Your team never makes a mistake, Cyrus. I trust you."

  I'm literally biting my tongue, shocked at his blatant disregard for his daughter's skills and expertise. He never once doubted the mistake could have been and still could be the fault of my workers. Addressing his attitude may be a career-ending move, but I can't live with myself knowing I've let her take the fall for an error she may not deserve.

  "Mr. Gates, we're continuing to investigate the twelve Phase One homes under construction. The root cause of the misalignment issue is still unknown. It may very well have been a construction failure."

  "You're a good man, Cyrus; the army taught you well. Miss Gates was given a position for which she simply wasn't ready. The board decided to remove her as CEO until she's more experienced. Keep up the good work."

  The line goes dead as my mouth hangs open in shock. He demoted her. He relegated his daughter to a lesser position because of a relatively minor financial impact. I'm so angry right now I could quit.

  He has no idea the deep hurt he's causing her, that she's undoubtedly accepting internally. Tonight isn't going to go as planned, now that I know this information. She needs to know her worth and value, regardless of her dad's heartless opinion. I know just the man to help me pull this off.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "Hi Dad," I say cheerfully, walking into my father's outdated home. My mother passed away ten years ago; he's never been the same. He still works at the local hardware store part-time and has coffee with his war buddies on occasion. But he's struggling with diabetes and is stubborn about taking his prescribed medication.

  I've been saving money so I can surprise him with a refurbished workshop in the backyard. If I clean and organize the space, maybe he'll pick up on his old carpentry hobbies. My Dad built incredibly solid tables and ornate spooled chairs back in the day. He needs a reason, a mission, to get up in the morning.

  "I'm bringing a girl by this evening to look at the old shed. She'll help me figure out how to arrange the space to give you some room to work.

  "You're dating?" he asks in surprise. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.


  "Maybe. She's a colleague from work who specializes in workspace planning. We'll only be here a few minutes."

  "You need to find yourself a woman to take care of you son, like your mother took care of me. I regret every day I failed to tell her how much I loved and appreciated her.

  "I miss her too, Dad," I sympathize, hoping this project will bring him a small amount of joy.

  "See you in an hour."

  Lauralynn's apartment is located in an expensive part of the city in a high-rise building. I feel inadequate and awkward parking my truck out front among the flashy sedans and sports cars. A concierge asks my name before allowing me to proceed to the elevator. The glass and marble décor feel cold. This building is anything but welcoming.

  I ring the bell of apartment 17C. Ornate antique vases line the hallways. This is not my scene, but Lauralynn is.

  "Hi," she says sweetly, the scent of spice and citrus luring me across the threshold as she opens the door wide.

  "Hi," I say, at a loss for further words as I inhale the beauty before me. She's wearing another dress that covers her arms and stops below her knees. The red color mirrors my searing desire as I try my best not to gape at the cleavage visible along the low neckline. Her blonde hair is flowing freely across her shoulders, utterly untamed.

  "Like what you see?" she asks with a grin, taking my hand and walking us into the immaculate, modern kitchen.

  "Very much," I rumble as she grabs her expensive purse. I suddenly doubt my plan to take her to a mountain viewpoint and have a picnic under the stars. She's too beautiful, too perfect for this type of activity in the great outdoors. Both her magnificent apartment and graceful poise are far above my humble roots.

  "What is it?" she questions, sensing my apprehension.

  "You look stunning, Lauralynn. The evening I have planned is lowkey. I'm not sure I'm good enough to take out a sophisticated, extraordinarily gorgeous woman like you."

  I'm supposed to be comforting her and building up her self-esteem this evening, but my self-confidence is failing me.

  "Wait here," she states and disappears into another room. The view is spectacular from this height, the dusky colors floating across the sky.

  "How's this?" she asks two minutes later. Holy. Fuck.

  Her bountiful shapely ass is pure perfection in a pair of dark denim jeans. She's wearing a skin-tight white t-shirt, accentuating ten-fold her generous breasts. To complete the look, she has on faded gray sneakers. My jaw is still on the floor as she sashays over to me, offering a complete twirl.

  My lips instantaneously plunder hers, pulling her tightly against my impossible to hide growing erection. "Sweet Jesus, Lauralynn, you're the sexiest woman on earth." She smirks against my mouth, circling her tongue with mine as her hands scratch needily along my neck.

  "We have to stop, or we'll never make dinner. Thank you for changing into casual clothes to make me feel more comfortable." She smiles sweetly up at me, entranced by my gentlemanly gesture.

  "How's it possible I never knew about you, Cyrus Garrison? Where've you been hiding the last six months?" I begrudgingly release her waist, wondering the same thing.

  "In plain site," I smirk, delighted by her giggle at my silly pun.

  Lauralynn is a woman of high class, and even higher integrity and beauty. My heart expands at the possibility of a long-term relationship.

  We've been holding hands the entire way to Dad's house. She's sharing funny stories about her college designs and how her mother is her creative inspiration. Growing up with privilege carries a hefty price of high standards and lofty expectations. She's not close with her mom any longer since moving downtown.

  "If I can borrow your immense talent for a few minutes, I'd like your help with my Dad's old workshop. I want to surprise him with a complete renovation, but I'm having trouble with space planning. Do you mind stopping with me for five minutes?"

  "Not at all." Her eyes shine with a sweet glance and a tight squeeze of my hand. As much fun as we would have had at the carnival, nothing feels better than this simple, natural conversation and relaxed touch.

  "Dad, this is Miss Gates," I introduce, walking Lauralynn into my childhood home.

  "Good Evening, Miss Gates. How nice you brought home a girl, son."

  She laughs out loud, my Dad's attempt at humor delighting both of us. He even took a shower and put on cologne, which the neighbors can undeniably smell.

  "We'll be in the backyard for a few minutes, Dad," I chuckle, walking us through the kitchen and out the screen door.

  I kiss her on the hand and open the dilapidated shed doors. "I plan to rebuild a twelve by twelve structure. He'll need power tools, a large workbench, a dozen outlets, and simple shelving."

  "Lighting will be critical with easy to clean surfaces and non-slip floors. What a wonderful project, Cyrus. Are you going to build the shed by yourself?"

  "No," I reply, unable to prevent my arms from wrapping around her for another close embrace.

  "My boyfriend Snake agreed to help too."

  She claims my mouth with abandon, reveling in the honest, pure connection we're building. "I planned a picnic under the stars beautiful, let's go."

  "Thank you, Cyrus," she says quietly, wiping the lipstick from the side of my mouth.

  "For what?" I ask with surprise.

  "For being you. I haven't let my hair or my guard down in years. When you're holding me, the stresses of life fade away. I can truly be myself, and I appreciate you for seeing how much I needed this night, despite you and your Dad's corny jokes."

  "He put cologne on for you, you must be something special," I chuckle in her ear as we walk into the house and wish him goodnight.

  "Way sexier than your boyfriend," she laughs. She deserves a swift spanking for that comment and anything else she desires.

  The twinkling stars are overshadowed by her luminous jade eyes. Gentle breezes float through her silky blonde hair, holding my hand as we walk towards a small grassy clearing.

  A checkered tablecloth is laid on the ground as she bends onto her knees. My flourishing desire is strong, wanting to engulf her with my muscular frame and kiss her for hours. Her gentle subtle fingers touch mine as we unpack the picnic basket filled with gourmet deli sandwiches. She’s feeling the seductive sexual tension in the air, her legs squeezing tightly together as she shifts to get comfortable.

  “Have you always wanted to be a designer?” I ask, pouring two small glasses of wine, attempting and failing to keep my greedy eyes off her sexy behind.

  “I love the creative aspect of transforming a blank canvas into a magnificent finished product. Dad said I was better suited for interior design versus managing his construction business. He says that’s a man’s world.”

  These instilled beliefs run deep in her family. She can do anything.

  “From what little I’ve seen of your work, you’re capable of managing any type of environment. I love your confident attitude, even when you’re wrong.”

  She squints her suspect eyes, setting down our beverages.

  “You realize, Mr. Garrison, your cocky attitude is what started our relationship. Why are you so certain you’re right?”

  Her legs unfold, pressing her hands to my chest until my back’s against the cool cotton. Her pillow-soft breasts lay across my rapidly beating heart, her hands now planted firmly on either side of my head.

  “For you, I’ll be wrong.”

  My hands grab hold of her gorgeous hips, positioning her into a straddle along my waist. Her hot lips ravage mine, the heat between our bodies electric. We kiss like star-crossed lovers; her fingers brushing my cheeks, my hands clenching her ass.

  We’re in a semi-public space and this is our first date. I don’t want to be that guy, the one who takes advantage of every opportunity. My mission tonight was to build her self-esteem and show her worth. I hate stopping.

  My arms surround her in a tight hold, pulling her mouth away with my right hand.

  “You’re
irresistible, Miss Gates. Let’s finish our picnic.” She resentfully complies, her moist lips forming an alluring pout.

  “Fine. You’re wrong, you know,” she smirks, sitting back and handing me a turkey with swiss on sourdough.

  “For another seductive kiss like that, I don’t want to be right.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The night is over all too soon as I walk her through the glass doors to say goodnight. The picnic, the stars, and the heavy petting were magical. I haven't fogged up the windows of my truck since I was a teenager. I'm going to end our night with my mission accomplished, showing her how much respect and care she deserves.