by Kaylea Cross
Her phone rang in her hand. She lifted it, her heart jolting when she saw the number on display. Sitting up straight, she answered. “Hello?”
“Hi, Candace? It’s Khalia Phillips, from Scottie’s Foundation.”
“Yes, hi.” Her heart beat faster, excitement coursing through her. She’d been hoping and praying…
“We reviewed your application package, and I have to say, it’s most impressive. I’ll be in D.C. late next week and I’d love to interview you in person then, if that’s convenient.”
“Would Sunday work? I’m out of town on holiday until next Saturday.” If not, she’d change her flight.
“Of course, that sounds fine, and considering recent events in Montana that I read about, I want you to enjoy every moment of your holiday.”
Khalia must have looked her up online to do some research. “Yes, it’s been nice to get away.”
“I know exactly how that feels, and as a fellow survivor of traumatic events, I kind of feel like I know you already. So let’s get in touch next week and figure out the details. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.”
“I should also tell you that we’ve already narrowed it down to you and one other applicant for this full-time position. But between you and me, you’ve got the edge over the other person.” There was a smile in her voice, and Candace couldn’t help but like her already. Everything she’d read about Khalia Phillips—formerly Khalia Patterson—was impressive.
“Well, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you next week then, and can’t wait to meet you. Enjoy your holiday. Bye.”
“Bye.” Ending the call, she whipped off her sunglasses and turned to face Ryan. “It was her! Khalia Phillips, with Scottie’s Foundation.”
He was turned onto his side facing her, his weight propped up by his left forearm, a big grin on his face. “And?”
“And she wants to interview me next Sunday. She basically said I’ve got better than a fifty percent shot at the job.” She bit her lip, let out a little squeal.
“Congrats,” he murmured, reaching across to capture her nape with his hand and drag her forward into a slow kiss. “I know you’ll get it.”
“I hope so.” The job was everything she wanted. Flexible hours, she could do most of the work from home, and best of all, she’d be earning a living by helping fellow vets transition back into civilian life. “God, I’m so excited.” She bounced on the chair. “Come on, let’s get our stitches dealt with so we can go out and celebrate.”
Rejuvenated and full of anticipation, she slid the glass door open and crossed the glossy teak floor from the living room past the deluxe, gourmet kitchen to the hallway. In the master suite located on the far end, she walked through into the attached bathroom and stripped off her bikini. She didn’t consider her body bikini material but Ryan loved seeing her in it, so she’d worn it for him.
She was reaching for the dress she’d hung on the shower door when he came into the bathroom and stepped up behind her.
Facing the mirror, she had a perfect view of his thick, strong arms as they wound around her naked waist. “You should never get dressed again,” he murmured against her ear, the rasp of his stubble making her shiver.
“Pervert.”
“Can’t help it. You’re just so damn sexy; it’s a crime to cover up these curves.” He slid his hands up to cup her breasts and she swatted his forearm. The man had a one-track mind.
“None of that. We have stitches to get out, then champagne and lobster to find. And I should probably refill my birth control prescription too.”
Chin nestled on her shoulder, he reached past her to pick up the compact holding her dwindling supply of birth control pills. “How many days you have left on this one?”
“Three. So I definitely need to get more while we’re at the clinic. Especially since you want me naked all the time and can’t seem to keep your hands—and other body parts—to yourself around me.” She wiggled her bottom against the erection tenting the front of his swim shorts.
He met her gaze in the mirror, and her heart did a somersault. One look from him with those sexy mahogany-brown eyes and she just melted inside. “You complaining?”
“No.” Not at all.
He set the pills down on the vanity, and, still staring into her eyes, wrapped his arms back around her middle. “What if you didn’t refill the prescription?” he murmured.
She stilled as his meaning sank in, and her heart rate kicked up a notch. “Are you…sure?” Last week it had sounded as though the idea of starting a family was at least a few years away for him.
He gave a tiny nod, his chin rubbing against her shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot since the wedding. These things can take a while sometimes, right? Who knows how long it’ll take for us, and now that you’re a civilian again, there’s no reason to wait.”
“But I might be starting a new job in another few weeks.”
“Yeah, and you already told me you could work from home most of the time. We’d work it out.”
A tremulous smile pulled at her mouth. She was so ready to try for a baby. She bit her lip, excitement fizzing through her veins. “I’m not even close to thirty-five yet.”
“Mmm, but just think of all those perfectly good eggs going to waste right now.” He rubbed his wide, warm palm over her lower abdomen, the protective, possessive gesture sending a thrill through her. “Although to be honest, I hope it doesn’t happen too soon. I’m really looking forward to the trying part.” He waggled his eyebrows.
She gave him a wry look. “Well then, let’s hope your fast-movers miss the first few targets you lase, huh?”
A laugh burst out of him as she threw his words to Cam last week back in his face. He took her by the shoulders to spin her around, then framed her face between his hands, his thumbs caressing the tops of her cheekbones. “You’re so the shit, Ace. I love you.”
“I love you back.” Smiling against his mouth, she sank into the kiss, into his embrace.
This new chapter of their lives was already off to a thrilling—if a little terrifying—start. She couldn’t wait to find out what exciting possibilities the future had in store for them.
—The End—
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Wearing a pair of snug jeans and a feminine black-and-white polka-dot top with cap sleeves, Taylor exited the bathroom to find Logan on the couch with his left leg propped up, watching TV.
He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled a
little, his hot gaze raking over the length of her body in a way that make her feel naked. Her bare toes curled into the carpet.
“My turn,” he said as he got up.
“Your turn?” she mumbled, her mind going blank as all six-foot-plus of sexy alpha male prowled toward her.
He stopped a half-step away from her, a sensual smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “For a shower,” he murmured, then kissed her softly.
“Oh.” Her eyelids fluttered as a delicious languor pervaded her body. Then he raised his head, gave her another of those knee-weakening smiles, and disappeared into the bathroom.
Taylor stared at the closed door, her skin tingling all over and her pulse thudding in her ears as the hiss of water started up in the shower. She wanted him. Why was she still standing here?
You are worthy.
Refusing to get lost in her head and ruin the moment by overthinking it, she walked over and grasped the doorknob. It turned easily under her hand, releasing a cloud of steam as she eased the door open.
At the sight before her, her lower belly did a slow, delicious somersault.
Logan stood under the spray facing away from her, the broad expanse of his muscled back and shoulders on display above the tiled half wall of the shower. His head was tipped back, the muscles in his arms and back flexing as he ran his hands through his wet hair.
Oh my God…
Her mouth went dry as she devoured the sight of him with her eyes.
He stilled, as though he sensed he was no longer alone. Lowering his hands, he half-turned to look at her. Taylor couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away as their gazes connected and locked. He stood absolutely motionless while the water cascaded over his naked skin, watching her.
Waiting to see what she’d do.
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