The Marine's Holiday Harbor

by Kirsten Lynn

  “Definitely.”

  He sits on his heels to examine a book that claims it stretches out as long as a tyrannosaurus, and I wander a few steps away. I’ve always known Caleb has a tender heart. The Marine with the hard candy shell and the gooey center. But watching him shop for not only Michael and Ella, but a couple other children in need of Christmas, I’m falling in love with a man I didn’t know, or the man I knew before all the deployments and war changed us both. My Caleb.

  “You see something, Brynn?”

  I laugh when I turn to find his arms overflowing.

  “Can I put those behind the counter for you, sir?” A kind employee saves the day.

  Caleb hands over his treasures and then turns back to me. “You find something?”

  I realize I didn’t answer his question. “Sloth socks.” I grab the first item in front of my face so I don’t have to explain what I was thinking.

  “Sloth socks?”

  “Sure, I think Mom would love them.” She’ll hate them, but I’m going with it.

  “Okay. Maybe I’ll grab Mom a pair.”

  Great, now both mothers can discuss amongst themselves about why they were given sloth socks.

  “How about books?”

  “Mom and Dad have that covered, remember?”

  “Roger.”

  “But that does remind me, I need to stop at Sherman’s or Owl and Turtle and get Mom a gift card.”

  “You don’t know what she reads?” He sounds appalled.

  “I know exactly what she reads. She reads romance. What I don’t know is all the books she’s already read, because she reads all the time.”

  “Understood.”

  “I think we’ve bought this place out.” As we walk to the cashier, I notice he’s getting his wallet out as I’m digging a card out of mine. “How do you want to split this?”

  “I’d like to get it, Brynn, you’ve fed, clothed…well, fucking everything for a year. Let me handle this Christmas.”

  “All right.” I put my wallet back in my purse. When I lift my head and meet his gaze, his eyebrow is raised.

  “That’s it?”

  “I think it’s nice and I’m too happy to argue, but right now I’m getting a little pissed off—”

  He raises his hands, waving the stupid sloth socks. “I got it, I got it. We’re good.”

  Bag after bag is handed over the counter. “This is more than we carried on a ten-mile hike.”

  He grunts and hands over his card before gathering half the ruck. Without a word we start back to the SUV to drop off the loot. The town of Camden could be in a Dickens novel. Perfect for a holiday romance.

  “So off to get your mom’s gift card.”

  We start down Main Street and then turn onto Bay View Street. Less crowded than the Christmas by the Sea days, we can enjoy the walk and Christmas decorations a bit more without feeling pushed along. He rests his hand on my lower back, and the warmth from his hand seeps through the cold and my clothes, straight to my heart.

  “I read a couple romances in those boxes they send to servicemembers.”

  “What brought that up?”

  I shrug. “Talking about Mom and then walking with you.” Caleb, being a voracious reader, must have stumbled across some when digging through the donations. “Did you ever read a romance?”

  “Once.”

  “Didn’t like it?”

  “It was a good story. Historical, took place in Wyoming. Loved the description of the places and the characters were interesting. Then it got to a sex scene, and I mean, not the best thing for a man in the middle of a combat zone and no relief in sight. Plus, it just made me think about how good you feel when I’m inside you and…”

  “I get the picture. I’m guessing if I would have been there…”

  “We both would have been kicked out of the service, because the things I’d do to you would be legendary.”

  “What would you do to me?”

  “The same thing I did last night and will be doing tonight.” He opens the door to the bookstore.

  The low rumble of his voice, memories from the previous night, and the promise of his words could melt Maine. Dropping my gaze before I combust on the scene, I duck under his arm and into the store.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Caleb

  Climbing the ladder up to the deck, I’m still chuckling at Michael and Ella. When I join Brynn in the wheelhouse, she tosses a look over her shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  “They’re down there looking through the bags butthurt because all they’re finding is food and supplies for Christmas goodies and dinner.”

  She tosses her head back, laughing. I step behind her, soaking up the joy and joining her laugh. “Outstanding plan to leave the gifts in your parents’ car.”

  “The true test will be tomorrow when Brian brings them and we have to get them to the house.”

  “I was thinking about that. Why doesn’t he just leave them in the tower and I’ll run over when the munchkins go to bed?”

  “Well thought out, Marine.”

  “I’m not just good looks and charm.” I grip her hips. “I’ve always loved watching you behind the wheel of a boat, or even better, sailing like some sexy pirate queen.”

  “Sexy pirate queen?”

  “One thousand percent.”

  She leans back into me. “It’s good to be on water again.”

  I can’t see her gaze, but I feel it move to the lighthouse. The distinctive green light shines from the beacon and touches the water, creating a path and illuminating the danger of the rocky shore. I shift my gaze to the small white two-story keeper’s house. It’s drafty, the floor squeaks, and the heater has to go through a series of clinks and bangs before it finally coughs up heat. But the Christmas tree lights sparkle in one of the windows, while light from LED candles flicker in the others. I’m going to miss it almost as much as Brynn.

  “You know when the Nor’easter kicked up I kept my gaze fixed on the light?”

  “The beacon?”

  “No, Brynn, you.” She rests her head back on my chest. “The house is nice, but it’s you, and Michael, and Ella that make it home.”

  “When I bought it, I thought it’d be a safe harbor. When the images of mangled bodies plagued my mind, I could listen to the water against rock and soak in the green light of the tower. Now the images don’t plague me as much, and I listen for Michael explaining the anatomy of a dinosaur, or Ella giggling, or you laughing with them, loving on me. The three of you are my heart and safe harbor.”

  “I wish I would have been a year ago.”

  “I was so pissed at you, Caleb, for breaking up with me and not leaving the Marines. But you might have had it somewhat right, though I don’t think we needed to break up. I think I needed to see what I was without you, and I pretty much hated it. I think if you’d dropped everything two years ago and moved in, you’d resent it because it wasn’t what you wanted.”

  “You have always been what I wanted.”

  “With two kids in Camden?”

  “Maybe not Camden, but I’m starting to appreciate my hometown now.”

  She steers the boat like she was born to it, and she was. She uses short bursts of throttle then cuts the throttle and backs into the slip with as much ease as pulling a car into a garage. No one would know she’d gauged the wind and current while talking to me.

  I hop off and tie the lines, then climb back on. “Bets on if we’re carrying the kids?”

  She adjusts the white knitted hat on her head; I’d bumped it off-kilter standing so close. “There’s no doubt. It’s way too quiet down there.”

  Climbing down the ladder behind Brynn, I’m surprised when I hear Michael talking to her. Ella is trying to stay awake, although her eyes are at half-mast.

  I tune into Michael and Brynn’s conversation. “What sounds good?”

  “I don’t know, just hungry.”

  “Let’s get the groceries in, and we’ll see what we
can do.”

  “Okay.”

  I nod to Ella. “Help your sister onto the deck, but don’t get off the boat. Your mom and I will help you when we get this unloaded.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We work in silence unloading the grocery bags from the boat then helping the children before grabbing the bags and walking up to the house. When the groceries are unloaded, I turn to find Ella continuing her fight with sleep and losing. “I’ll get Little Bit tucked in if you want to feed the growing boy.”

  Brynn gives a sympathetic glance to Ella and nods. Lifting Ella, I realize how tired she is when there’s no fight to stay with her brother. Instead she wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. Her small body grows heavier with each step up the stairs until she’s more hundred-pound ruck than forty-pound child. It’s a sweet weight though a sleep born of pure trust I won’t drop her, or hurt her, or let anyone else hurt her.

  I flip on the light to her bedroom and flip it off again when her tiny body jerks like a vampire facing the sun. “Sorry about that.”

  She mumbles something and her mouth remains open as she drifts back to sleep. After laying her on the bed, I undress her and slip one of the princess nightgowns Brynn bought over her head, then smile when the static from the nightgown causes strands of her hair to stand on end. Tucking her under the covers, I drop a kiss to her cheek. She nestles farther under and I stand over her, watching in fascination. The complete trust she has that Brynn and I will keep her safe is both humbling and an honor.

  Pain squeezes my heart as my mind goes to thoughts of Mark and how excited he was when his children were born. When I talked to him, the conversation was filled with Michael’s first words and later Ella walking. I understand his need to work hard and find a place for his family away from Hal, but it rips me up he ever let Michael believe there was something wrong with him for not being good at sports. Or that Ella missed knowing how much Mark melted when she took his hand. I feel sorry for my brother, and a touch of the old guilt rears its head when I think of the things he’ll miss and I’ll enjoy.

  Ella turns and flops on her stomach, spreading out as if claiming the whole bed as her domain. The guilt disappears replaced by a love and protectiveness I’ve never known I could feel. I’m her and Michael’s dad now, and I couldn’t see my future playing out without them in it.

  I walk out of the room before I disturb her and head downstairs. Michael looks up from a sandwich. “What did you decide on?”

  “Peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

  “Good choice.”

  Brynn lifts the jar of peanut butter. “You want one.”

  “No.”

  She continues loading the PB&J ingredients back in the fridge. I sink into a chair across from Michael. “You and your sister are good kids, Michael. I’m proud to be your dad.”

  The boy’s eyes go wide and he pushes his glasses up. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Sir?”

  “Dad.”

  Brynn brings over a mug of tea and sets next to me. Always on the same page as I am, she knows where this is going.

  “You believe me that you’re a good kid?”

  “I believe you think so, but I did something you won’t forgive.”

  “You told your dad, my brother, you wish he’d never talk to you again.”

  Pools form in his blue eyes. “You know?” His gaze shifts between Brynn and mine.

  “Yes, we know,” she confirms, her tone holding no judgment, only love.

  “Then you know I’m not good.”

  “No, son, your mom and I know you’re a human. We all have said things that hurt someone we love.” I refuse to meet Brynn’s gaze; this is about Michael, and she and I already hashed out our shit.

  “But he didn’t come back and neither did Momma. Grandad said—”

  “Your grandad…” I almost choke on the word. “Was more wrong than you for saying what he did. Who do you believe, us or him?”

  “You.”

  “Good. Know this, Michael, there isn’t a soul who knew your dad better than I did, and he understood why you said what you did and forgave you the second you said it. All he was thinking that night was how much he loved you, and your sister, and your mom.”

  He locks his gaze with mine and searches my eyes for the truth. When he finds it, the tears he’s holding onto fall. He crawls into my lap and hugs me close, sobbing. Brynn wipes at the tears on her cheeks and rests her hand on Michael, connecting us all in our grief over loss and thankfulness over the new family we’ve created.

  Brynn rests her hip against the doorframe to the head while I’m brushing my teeth. “That was tremendously handled by you.”

  I shrug, then spit and rinse. “Needed to be done. I didn’t want him feeling guilty about every gift he got.”

  “It did need to be done and you did an outstanding job.”

  I stop at the door and press a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, Angel.” I slip by her.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I soak in the sight of her, from the cascade of thick, dark waves to the frown over her hazel eyes—now more green than brown or gold. I visually follow the curves I’ve mapped a million times and molded my body to marking her and receiving the brand of her body on mine. She’s wearing one of my green Marine T-shirts that stops just above her knees. Brynn could make anything from desert utilities, to dress whites, to a fancy red dress look sexy as fuck, but this look is my second favorite.

  “Why don’t you take off that T-shirt and let me admire the view?”

  Instead she stands between my legs, and I tip my head to make eye contact. “Because something is wrong.”

  “Something is always wrong, Angel, you know that. I’m sure you have a good idea what the wrong is tonight. I want to make something right.” I roll up the hem of the shirt with my palms. “Something so fucking good. Wrong can wait.” I trace her bellybutton with the tip of my tongue and her belly flexes under my touch. I inhale the scent of her arousal and feed off the soft sigh of my name.

  “We’ll talk later, right?”

  I smile against her skin. “Promise.”

  “Why do I feel like it’s going to be hours before we talk?” I hear the smile in her voice and lift my gaze to hers again.

  “Because you know me better than anyone, Brynn.”

  The gold flecks are back in her eyes that now match the green stone in her ring. She tugs the T-shirt from my hands and lifts it over her head. I smooth my palms over her hips and belly and cup her full breasts.

  “Lie back, Caleb.”

  “No, I want to feast on you.”

  “But I want to suck you.”

  “Then let’s both get what we want.”

  She tips her head and one side of her mouth curves in a sexy smile. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”

  I wag my eyebrows. “Then by my clock it’s time to do it again.”

  She steps from between my legs, and I stand and strip off my skivvies then stretch out in the middle of the bed. Her hair falls on both sides, framing her face as she crawls towards me, her lips already parted. She straddles my face, and I don’t hesitate—the second her pussy is in my face, I rim her vagina with my tongue before sucking her clit. She gasps and her body shudders over me.

  “Wait, Caleb! Please.” Her voice is an octave lower and each breath is a pant.

  I give one lick and then stop as she settles over me. When she grips my hard cock and sucks the head between her lips, my grip on her thighs tighten and a primal groan is ripped from my lungs. I slake my elemental appetite, kissing her sex like I would her mouth, shoving my tongue deep and savoring every last drop of her essence like honey.

  I inhale a sharp breath when she starts sucking me hard and strokes my balls. I dig my fingers harder into her thighs, holding her steady, and suck her clit. She moans around my cock with her first orgasm, but I’m not done with her and return to sucking and licking as she continues the same with me.

&nbs
p; One of my favorite things about oral with Brynn is she is not quiet. She slurps, and moans, and whimpers until it combines with my grunts and gulps. The erotic sounds fill the air. She drops her sex until all I can taste and smell is her over my face, and the feel of her mouth on my cock as her nipples scrape over my belly with her movements. Her legs tremble under my hands and I feast on her through her second orgasm. Every muscle in my body is drawn taunt, warning me I’m not going to last much longer even as I pull every ounce of control together to make this last as long as possible.

  Her mouth leaves me for a second. “Caleb.”

  I recognize the hesitation in her eyes. “If you don’t want to swallow say now, Angel.”

  I hold my breath and release it on a groan as she returns her mouth to my cock. Flexing my hips, I lap at her sex as I come inside her mouth and feel the hum of her climax around my sensitive flesh. I know my grip is painful on her thighs, but I hold tight as my neck bows. “Brynn! Holy—”

  She continues to suck me through my orgasm and I return to her ultra-sensitive nub to give her one more climax until she slaps my shins, signaling me to let her go. I kiss and suck her inner thighs, leaving my brands before dropping my hands from her flesh, cringing at the new bruises.

  When she rolls to her back, I shift to my side and propping my head up with my hand. Her eyes are as dark as the small forest behind the house and her cheeks are flushed. I drag a fingertip from her swollen lips to her bellybutton and back up. “We should definitely do that again soon.”

  “Definitely.” She cups the back of my head and I take the hint bending I seal my mouth to hers. The kiss is slow and easy. She opens for me and I slide my tongue along hers. When she sucks the tip of my tongue, a low rumble emanates from my throat.

  She opens her legs, and I take my place between them. For what seems like hours we stick with kissing; good old-fashioned making out. I skate my hand over the curve of her hip, then torso, and finally pinning her hands above her head. She breaks the kiss, when her neck arches as I ease my hard cock inside her soaking wet folds. Her inner muscles start working me instantly and she sighs; a sweet ethereal sound like she’s truly a heavenly being.