My Kind of Love: a Military Romance (Finding Love Book 1)

by Nikki Ash

  We walk down a long sidewalk, and I have no idea where we’re going, but Ryan seems to. We step in front of a door that reads: Marine Biology Seminar - Hubbs Hall. Ryan opens the door for me, but I stop in my place, confused.

  “We can’t go in there.”

  “Yes, we can, and we’re right on time. Go.” He nods toward the entrance, so I walk through. There are dozens if not hundreds of people all over, finding their seats. The room must have three hundred seats. An older gentleman steps up to the podium, just as Ryan and I find our seats in the back, and everyone else quickly finds theirs.

  “Good morning, and welcome to the seminar on Oceanography,” the gentleman begins. As he explains the purpose of the seminar today, my heart picks up speed. This seminar is for seniors who are majoring in biology. He discusses the topic and the organ in my chest swells as I imagine myself a couple years from now sitting here, in this very room. The students raise their hands to answer questions, discussing large marine animals’ habitats. Most of what they’re saying goes over my head, but it doesn’t matter. The topic isn’t the point. It’s being here. Where I’m supposed to be. Where I want to be. Where, if it wasn’t for Ryan pushing me to move forward, I’m not sure I would ever be.

  And in this moment, as I watch two students volley back and forth while the professor laughs and prompts them to continue, it hits me. This is my dream. It wasn’t Ian’s, it wasn’t ours. It was—still is—mine.

  Fat tears fill my lids and, not wanting to draw attention to myself, I quietly excuse myself, quickly walking from the auditorium and out the door we came in from.

  Ryan follows me out and, once we’re outside and away from people, pulls me into his arms, where I cry harder than I’ve ever cried. Harder than I cried when I found out Ian died, harder than I did at his funeral. Ryan holds me in his arms while I release every pent-up emotion inside me. When Ian died, I allowed myself to die with him, and this isn’t what he would’ve wanted. He loved me until the day he died, and what happened to him was tragic, but instead of mourning him, I should be living for him—for myself. Because I’m still alive.

  But I haven’t been living. I’ve been mourning. I’ve tried to write him a letter a million times, but I haven’t been able to because I have nothing to say. I haven’t done anything worth writing about. I was so caught up in the fact that our plans were destroyed that I forgot I’m still alive and can have a life, have a future. It breaks my heart that I won’t have Ian by my side, but he would’ve wanted me to keep living. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to live—for him, and more importantly for me.

  Once I’ve calmed down enough to speak, I back up slightly and look into Ryan’s azure eyes. “Thank you for this. For showing me what I’m missing, what I could still have. I needed this more than you will ever know. I think I’m finally ready to move forward.”

  Ryan’s lips curl into a beautiful smile. “Already? But I had an entire week of activities. I guess I’ll be going boating on my own in Newport.” He fake pouts, but I find myself really pouting. I’m not ready to leave Ryan yet. I might be ready to move forward, but I’m not ready to move forward from him yet. I’m enjoying his company. He makes my heart feel full, my head feel less foggy.

  “We could still do everything you have planned,” I suggest. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”

  Ryan glances down at me, and I realize how close we are. Our bodies are molded against each other. His hard, muscular arms wrapped around my backside. My hands planted against his firm chest. He sucks in his bottom lip, then runs his tongue along both lips, wetting them. And I do something I’ve wanted to do since the first time I saw him in the foyer of my parents’ house.

  I kiss him.

  On my tiptoes, I reach up and press my mouth to his. At first he doesn’t reciprocate and I worry I made a big mistake, but then his strong yet soft lips react to mine. Just like he did a moment ago to himself, he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and then runs his tongue along the seam of my lips. And then he kisses me. His tongue enters my parted lips as my hands glide up his firm chest. His fingers dip into the cheeks of my ass, and he picks me up, carrying me backward until my back hits the hardness of a wall.

  Our tongues find one another and move in sync, caressing, stroking… our kiss deepens. Ryan’s skilled mouth devours mine. He captures my tongue and sucks on it, and I moan into his mouth. The noise must startle him, because all too quickly, I’m being dropped to the ground and Ryan’s backing away like a caged animal.

  “That shouldn’t have happened,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re grieving.”

  “It’s been fifteen months.”

  “Fifteen months you’ve spent grieving and not moving forward.”

  “And now I am. I’m ready to move forward.”

  “With someone your age,” he argues.

  “You’re a whole eight years older.” I roll my eyes, immediately regretting it, when he raises a brow.

  “You’re a family friend,” he volleys.

  “I’m not asking you to marry me, but let’s be honest…” I step forward. Ryan looks like he wants to run, but he stays where he is. “We’ve both been dancing around the chemistry between us.”

  “You’re right. I am attracted to you. But that can’t happen again.”

  I stop in my place and stare at him. He’s nibbling on his bottom lip nervously, and even though he isn’t physically running, he’s still pushing me away. And I get it. There are several reasons why nothing should happen between us, but I don’t care about any of them. However, it’s clear Ryan does. And these last couple days have been the best days I’ve had in a long time. And I’m not ready to leave yet. Do I think we have a future? No. He’s in the military and heading overseas. I’m going to go home and enroll in college and start living my life again. But right now, the only thing I want to do is spend time with Ryan. Help him relax. Let my heart heal. Continue to put one foot in front of the other. And in order to do that, I’m going to have to ignore the sexual tension between us and focus on being his friend.

  “Okay,” I reluctantly agree.

  “Okay?”

  “I’m not sorry for kissing you, but it won’t happen again. At least not without you wanting it to.” I wink, hoping to lighten the mood. “If it’s okay, I would like to keep hanging out.”

  Ryan groans softly, but loud enough that I can hear him. “Micaela, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Please.” I step closer to him. “I feel like I’m finally making progress, but I’m not ready to go home yet. When I do, my parents are going to be all over me. I’m going to have to face reality, make a new plan, and I’m excited to do that, but I would really like to spend some more time with you first. Plus, if I leave, you’re not going to relax.”

  The corner of Ryan’s lips tugs into a small smirk. “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do. You’ll probably follow me back home and then go in search of someone else to save. Now that you’ve saved me, we can focus on you relaxing.”

  Ryan groans.

  “Please. Just a few more days. Then we can go back to Vegas, and you can spend time with your family before you leave, and I’ll be ready to face my family and friends and start living my life.”

  “Fine,” he says, giving in. “But no more kissing.”

  “Fine.”

  The drive home is quiet but comfortable, and once we arrive, we lie out under the stars, me with a Gatorade and Ryan with his beer, talking about the seminar and my future until I can barely keep my eyes open and Ryan insists I go to bed since we have a big day planned tomorrow.

  And that’s how the week continues. Every morning Ryan wakes me up with a delicious breakfast. During the day we explore California. We go to different museums and parks and beaches. We rent bikes and scooters. We even do a day of surfing lessons. The hand holding and flirty touches have stopped, and I miss them, but I would rather have Ryan’s company without
the touching than not have him at all. Every night ends with us talking under the stars.

  With every activity, every conversation, it feels like a weight has been lifted off me and I can finally enjoy myself. Does it mean I’m over Ian? No, a part of me will always remember and love him. He was my first boyfriend, my first lover. I married him with the intent to spend my life with him, and we did just that, until he took his final breath. When he died, I refused to move forward, didn’t want to experience life without him, didn’t want to create new memories he couldn’t be a part of. But now I realize I can still love him and mourn him and miss him while living my life.

  Then, one day, I sit down and finally write him a letter. When I’m done, I read over the three pages where I tell him I loved him and how much I miss him but promise to live my life for the both of us. I’m not sure what to do with it, and when I tell Ryan, he suggests I hold onto it for now, and when the time comes, I will know what to do with it.

  While I text with my mom, so she knows I’m okay, for the most part I’ve lost track of the days, absorbed with what we’re doing, so I’m shocked when one evening, there’s a knock on the door, followed by Lexi yelling, “Micaela Anderson! I know your ass is here!”

  My stomach knots at the sound of Ian’s last name, but for the first time, I don’t lose it. Not a single tear comes. Instead, I find myself smiling. I have his last name. A small piece of him. One day I’ll get married and it will change, but for right now I get to have his name. A reminder that we were so in love we got married. I vowed to love him until the end of time, and even though he’s gone, I’m going to do just that.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, turning the water from the sink off. I was doing the dishes while Ryan takes a shower. We just finished eating dinner. He grilled steaks and shrimp and zucchini, and I baked a couple potatoes.

  “You posted a picture of the sunset on your Insta.” She rolls her eyes, and Georgia laughs. “Forgot to turn your location off.” Shit, I didn’t even think about that. I really have been lost in my own world.

  “You look a lot better,” Georgia says, wrapping her arms around me for a hug.

  “I feel better,” I admit.

  “You’ve got a gorgeous little tan going on,” Lexi says. “How long have you been hiding out here? You seriously look great.”

  “Thank you, and who says I’m hiding?”

  “Your—”

  Lexi’s words are cut off when Ryan walks into the kitchen, completely unaware we have company. He’s shirtless, and his hair is freshly wet from the shower. His skin is sun-kissed, and his chest and abs look like they were carved from stone. But more importantly, as he saunters up to me, he looks completely relaxed.

  Georgia’s mouth drops in shock.

  Lexi’s mouth forms a perfect O, her gaze swinging from Ryan to me.

  I’m trying to think of a way to spin this, but before my brain can muster up an excuse, Lexi lets out the most unladylike snort and says, “So, this is why you look so great.” She nods her approval. “Nothing like getting under someone new to get over—”

  “That’s not what’s happening,” Ryan says, cutting her off.

  “Oh, yeah?” Lexi taunts with a devilish smirk. “Then what is happening?”

  “We’re relaxing,” I tell her.

  “And moving forward,” Ryan adds.

  “Uh-huh.” Lexi smiles mischievously. “Well, how about you relax and move forward at Club Onyx tonight, and I’m not taking no for an answer. Alec has been promoted to lieutenant, which is a huge freaking deal, so you’re joining us to celebrate.” Alec is a firefighter in Los Angeles, and Lexi and Georgia’s best friend. Their parents are best friends, so they’ve practically grown up together in LA. I’m friends with him as well from the years of all our parents hanging out and them joining us in Breckenridge for the holidays, but we’re not close like the three of them are.

  “I’m in,” I say as Ryan shakes his head. “And Ryan is too.”

  He mock-glares at me, and I laugh. “You’re in. What better way to relax than with a beer and some good music.”

  Without giving him a chance to argue, I turn back to Lexi and Georgia. “We’re in. We need to get ready, but we’ll meet you there.”

  “Yay!” Lexi bounces over and gives me a hug. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whisper-yells. “We’re totally going to get our party on.”

  And with a wink and a twirl, Lexi grabs Georgia and disappears from the house.

  Ryan

  I am completely out of my element here. In the grand scheme of things, at twenty-eight, I don’t consider myself old. But here at this club, where the median age must be twenty-two and still in college, I feel old as fuck. Since I didn’t have any “club clothes,” as Micaela put it, when I tried to leave in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I borrowed a pair of shoes and button-down shirt from Marco’s closet—at Micaela’s insistence. When she realized she didn’t have anything to wear, she insisted we swing by Lexi’s house so she could borrow a dress from her. I waited in the truck while she ran in, and thirty minutes later, when she came sauntering out with a face full of makeup, her hair down in waves, and in a skin-tight dark purple dress matched with a pair of tall-as-hell heels, I damn near lost my shit.

  The organ in my chest tightened at the same time my dick swelled. I’ve seen Micaela in tiny bikinis all week. Her body is fucking banging. She’s got tits that would fit perfectly in the palms of my hands, and an ass that’s toned and plump. Her stomach is flat, and her hips are wide. A man could grip them and use them to—fuck. My point is I knew she was hot, but dressed the way she is tonight, she looks older, more mature. And not only that, but she also looks happy and confident. She’s done a complete one-eighty since the first night she showed up at the beach house. She’s no longer mourning, but instead choosing to live again. And I’m so damn proud of her.

  As I sit here, watching the girls dance, I know without a doubt I’m out of my element here. I don’t do clubs. I don’t hang out and dance and get drunk. I design weapons and conduct demolition missions. I clear minefields. I don’t hang.

  Yet, here I am at Club Onyx, with a beer in my hand, watching as Micaela shakes her perfect ass on the dance floor. We leave the day after tomorrow and I’ve almost made it without kissing her or touching her again, but if I have to watch her grind against her friends for another damn minute, there’s no telling what I’m going to do. I’d like to think I have a good amount of restraint. I was married for years, was propositioned a million times in several different countries, but I never cheated on my wife once. I never even considered it.

  But right now, that restraint is hanging on by a thread. A man can only handle so much taunting and teasing. And I use those words because I know damn well that’s what Micaela is doing. It doesn’t go over my head when her hypnotizing eyes meet mine, mischief and seduction gleaming in her irises, that she wants me to know exactly what I’m missing out on. She might’ve agreed to no more kissing or touching, but that hasn’t stopped the looks she gives me. And as much as I try to act like the chemistry is one-sided, we both know damn well it’s not. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Micaela, and if I don’t get away from her soon, I’m going to lose all my restraint and give in to my baser instincts.

  “So, Micaela, huh?” Alec nods toward the woman I can’t take my eyes off of. I don’t know him that well since he’s a good five or so years younger than me and lives here in LA, but we’ve hung out on a couple occasions with our families, and he seems like a good guy. The entire time the women are dancing, he’s either been dancing with them, or watching them, making sure they aren’t bothered by any assholes.

  “We’re just friends,” I grunt out.

  “Yeah, okay.” He chuckles. “I don’t know what you did this week with her, but she’s looking pretty damn close to her old self.”

  “She did it herself. I was just there.”

  I feel Alec’s gaze on me, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t
take my eyes off Micaela. I’m transfixed by the way her body moves. My dick doesn’t understand that she’s off-limits. Hooking up with her would be a huge mistake, not only because she’s younger but because she’s finally moving forward and deserves more than a one-night stand. And if we got together, that’s all it could be.

  “Damn, man, you have it bad.” Alec pats my shoulder. “I get it, though. Try being in love with a woman for years and knowing all you can ever be is friends.”

  “Years?” I reluctantly peel my eyes from Micaela to look at Alec.

  “Years,” he repeats, shaking his head.

  I’ve only been around Micaela for a little over a week. Years of being around her and not being able to be with her would fucking kill me.

  “Why haven’t you gone after her?”

  “First, the timing was off. When I realized that my feelings for her were more than friendly, she was still in high school. My parents were high school sweethearts and grew apart. Ended in divorce.”

  Makes sense. I’m not the same person I was ten years ago.

  “And now?”

  “I’m scared shitless.” His eyes lock on the women in the corner of the dance floor. We’re in VIP, so they’ve formed their own little private dance party. Micaela’s arms are up in the air, her hips swaying to the beat of the music. Lexi’s dancing behind her with her hands on Micaela’s hips, her ass moving in sync to Micaela’s. Georgia is facing Micaela, a huge smile on her face. One of the girls must say something because she throws her head back in a laugh then wraps her arms around Micaela’s neck.

  “Scared of what?”

  “Of not being enough. Of not loving her the way she needs. Of destroying our friendship. She’s everything to me and the thought of losing her… fuck.”

  “Does she know?”

  “Nah.” He laughs humorlessly. “She holds my fucking heart in the palm of her hand and has no damn clue.”

  With a final shot, he heads over to the girls. Georgia and Lexi both flock to him, but Micaela backs up, her eyes swinging over to me.