by Soraya Lane
Caitlin walked forward slowly past him to peer at the water. Even from where they were it was impossible to tell there was anyone in there, had they not been able to see through the clear water into the pool.
“They’ve only just gone down, but they have to stay under as long as they can without letting go of so much as one air bubble,” he explained. “Most of them will crack soon, but the good ones, the ones who’ll make it, they’ll blow your mind how long they can stay like that.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why is pushing yourselves to do such insane things so important?”
Tom understood how it seemed, how ridiculous it was to most people that guys like him wanted to push their bodies to the limits, to force themselves to achieve. But it was what he loved, and it made them who they were. An elite team who could achieve the unachievable. “We have to swim better than anyone else can, stay underwater longer than any other person, survive longer than anyone else, because when we’re out there on a mission, it’s survival of the fittest. If we can’t maintain stealth, we could be dead, and we never know what the situation will be or what we’ll need to do in order to stay alive. That’s why so few guys make it—because you need to push yourself to the limit, over and over again.”
Caitlin laughed. It echoed through the otherwise silent building and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“You think I’m crazy, right?” he asked.
“No,” she shook her head. “I think that you’re an adrenaline junkie, and when I was a ballerina I think I was kind of the same. Seriously.”
Tom went to reach for her but she leaped forward. “Bubbles,” Caitlin announced. “I see bubbles. Oh, lots of bubbles now.”
A heap of guys broke the surface almost simultaneously, made their way to the edge of the pool. Tom raised his eyebrows at Caitlin as an instructor started barking at the young men, yelling at them and making them drop to do press-ups as punishment when they hauled themselves out of the water.
Slowly, all the men came up, with only two still down. One of the instructors was on his knees, bent toward the water, watching.
“That was me,” Tom said, gesturing to the pool. “I was always the one under water the longest, trying the hardest, because this was the one thing I was good at. The one place I could prove myself and succeed.”
Caitlin was watching still, fixed on the water. “It’s just as important to be teaching them, you know,” she said, not turning around. “You can be the difference between them succeeding and not.”
Tom crossed the distance between them, circling his arm around her, loosely holding her and pulling her back toward him. “I know that now,” he told her. “You made me realize what I hadn’t been able to figure out for myself.”
Caitlin turned slowly in his arms. “I didn’t take you for public displays of affection,” she whispered.
Tom grinned, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. She did something to him, this girl, something that drove him wild and made him want to run in the other direction all at the same time. “You got me,” he said.
“So why the affection?” Caitlin asked, wriggling closer, her face so close it was almost pressed into the hollow of his neck.
Tom cleared his throat, fought not to shut his eyes and lose himself to the sensation of holding her in his arms. “Because I think I could be falling in love with you.”
Caitlin went still. She didn’t move and neither did he. He’d said it. The words he’d been thinking, the thoughts that had been circling his brain like an eagle over prey, finally out there.
“You are?” she whispered back, still not looking up at him.
Tom sucked up all his courage. “Yeah,” he said, voice low. “It just so happens that I am.” He tucked his fingers under her chin, softly tilted her face up to look at his before bringing his lips down slowly to brush over hers.
She murmured against his mouth, but she didn’t pull away. Caitlin’s slender frame tucked into his, asking for more. Tom didn’t hesitate. He kissed her harder this time, dipped her back before pulling her up tight against him.
Whoops echoed out throughout the complex, but he didn’t care. He held his finger up behind her back at the guys watching, telling them to get lost. They didn’t stop, and neither did he. Not until Caitlin pulled back, red-faced, cheeks flushed, eyes dancing but clearly embarrassed.
“Tom!” she scolded, peeking over her shoulder then glaring at him again.
He shrugged, grabbing her and pulling her close again. “You want me to let go?” he whispered in her ear.
Caitlin tilted her head, smiled coyly up at him. “No.”
He smiled at her, waving over one of the guys.
“Don’t you want to know why?”
Tom bent his head lower and kissed her on the cheek. “Sure.”
Caitlin buried her face against his chest, her words almost lost. “Because I think I’m falling in love with you, too.”
Tom dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Lucky you’re on my good side, otherwise I’d need you to repeat that,” he joked, half-serious.
Caitlin swatted at his backside with her open palm, but she was laughing and so was he.
For the first time since he’d come home, he felt there was nothing holding him back. No weight on his shoulders, no noose around his neck slowly choking him, pulling him away from the life he’d once had.
“So this is the special lady, huh?”
The deep male voice made him turn, arm still tucked protectively around Caitlin. “Mark,” he said, smiling first at Caitlin and then at his friend. “I’d like you to meet Caitlin Rose.”
Caitlin didn’t need to be told Mark was one of his closest friends for her to be charming to him, and he loved it.
“You’re another instructor here?” she asked. “For the record, I think those guys need some lunch and a rest for the afternoon.”
Mark laughed, but he didn’t take his eyes off Caitlin, and Tom glared at him. He’d been one of his best friends when they’d served together, would trust him with his life, but he also knew how much his buddy liked beautiful women.
“Okay, just so you know how we operate, there’s no chance of them breaking for lunch yet, not until we punish them some more,” Mark told her, shaking her hand and then crossing his arms over his chest. “And secondly, I can see why Tom’s smiling. You really are gorgeous.”
Tom saw Caitlin blush and had to force himself not to clamp her to his side. “Caitlin, Mark was with me on my last…” He swallowed, looking at her and finding strength in her gaze.
“I survived the explosion, too,” Mark finished for him.
“Yeah,” he said, looking between Caitlin and Mark. “That’s why I wanted you to meet him.”
A whistle blew and Mark took a step backward, hand extended to shake Caitlin’s again. “It was nice to meet you, Caitlin, but I’ve got to run. Recruits to torture.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” she replied.
“Let’s go,” Tom said, happy that he’d been brave enough to bring her here.
“Yeah, let’s.” Caitlin leaned back to look up at him, before nipping a kiss to his jaw.
“What was that for?” he murmured. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“For being brave,” she told him. “I’m so proud of you.”
And Tom was, too. For once he didn’t mind being called brave, because this time it was true.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CAITLIN felt as though she’d been knocked over and had just caught her breath. She looked at Tom, really looked at him, and couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.
“Are we really doing this?” she asked. “I mean…”
Tom’s eyes crinkled gently in the corners. She loved it. The cheeky upturn of his grin, the way his entire face seemed to smile when he was happy. “I guess we are.”
As if he knew exactly what she’d been trying to say.
Caitlin sighed. It was good. Better than good. She actual
ly felt that something was finally going right in her life for a change. She’d stuck to her guns, fought to show Tom how happy he could be, what he had to be thankful for in his life, and he’d proven to her that he could embrace that.
“There’s one more place I want to take you,” Tom told her, forcing her from the daydream she’d been lulled into.
“Somewhere else?” she asked, curiosity piqued. “Like where?”
Tom took his eyes off the wheel for a second and grinned again. “It’s not exactly the New York Ballet, but it’s the best I could do at short notice.”
What? “You’re taking me to a ballet recital, aren’t you?”
“Yup.” Tom looked far too pleased with himself. “I don’t know anything about ballet, but I know you love it, and I want you to show me your world, too. Well, the one you left behind.”
Caitlin leaned back in the seat and shut her eyes. Tried not to cry.
After years of struggling with what had happened to her, of wondering if what had happened was her fault, Tom had blown in on the wind and turned everything upside down.
“You’re one of a kind, Tom Cartwright,” she said, opening her eyes and shaking her head slightly. “I don’t know where you came from or how we ended up here, but I’m glad.”
Tom laughed—a deep, loud laugh that echoed throughout the car. “Tell me why you love ballet,” he asked, suddenly serious.
Caitlin looked out the window and smiled. “I was a little girl with a dream, and no matter what happened at home, my mom always told me to believe in myself,” she said. It was like a movie running through her mind, remembering her first tutu, her ballet shoes, the desperation to make it as a teenager, to change her life and become something. “Mom was so proud, and I felt like I’d succeeded for both of us when I won the scholarship. That we were going to have a new life, that everything was going to be better.”
Tom was focused on driving, but she turned to watch him, to study the outline of his profile, to study him. She’d been wrong to judge him as the typical tough guy just because of her past. It was mean to lump all physically strong men into the same category, to have judged him as she had. He’d been stubborn, sure, and a bit too self-absorbed in his own issues, but he was also kind and thoughtful. And now he was proving himself to be a decent listener after all.
“You know, my dad leaving seemed like the worst thing in the world when it happened, but we had a great mom and we still do,” Tom said.
Caitlin reached out, touched her finger along his jawline, watched the way his pulse started to tick, as if he was nervous. Or uncertain. Or maybe excited, as she was. Excited about the possibilities of what could happen between them.
“I’d do anything to have my mom here still,” Caitlin said. “I wish every day that I could pick up the phone and call her to tell her about my day and hear about hers. To tell her that I did okay for myself.”
She watched as Tom’s face pulled into a frown, even as he concentrated on the road. He pulled the car over and turned to look back at her.
“I know it’s no substitute, but I’d love my mom to be there for you one day. For you to feel she was family enough to become close to like that.”
Tom opened his door and stepped out of the car before she could respond, opening hers and waiting for her to get out.
“That’s really sweet of you,” she said, always appreciative of his old-fashioned manners.
Tom cleared his throat, looking anxious.
“What kind of ballet are we going to in the afternoon?” Caitlin asked, suddenly confused.
Tom moved from foot to foot. “Ah, a dress rehearsal. It was the best I could do at late notice. I hope that’s okay?”
She threw her arms around him in an impromptu hug. “Thank you, Tom. You’re amazing.”
He took her hands and held her back at arm’s length, eyes searching her face. “Amazing enough to marry?”
Caitlin was pleased Tom was holding her. Marry her? “What?” Was he joking?
“I’m serious,” he said, before dropping to one knee. “Marry me, Caitlin Rose. Do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Caitlin was in danger of stuttering. Marry her? The question was stuck in her mind as though it was on repeat. “Tom, are you serious?”
He looked up at her. “Deadly.”
Oh. Wow. “I think you need to stand up,” she said, smiling but terrified all at the same time.
The grin left his face, leaving him drained, pale. “Not the answer I was hoping for.”
Caitlin raised her hands, placed both her palms against his cheeks. “I can’t marry you, Tom.”
He started to protest, to say something, but she put a finger over his lips. She couldn’t say yes and she needed to explain why. “It’s not because I don’t want to, but we haven’t known each other long enough. When I get married, I want it to be for life. I don’t want to rush it.”
Tom looked at the ground then met her gaze. “So it’s more a maybe than a strict no,” he asked.
“I want to be with you, Tom, but I want us to take our time.”
“I understand,” he said. “Penny told me it was too fast, but as usual I chose not to listen to her.”
That made Caitlin laugh. “I’m guessing Penny helped you with the whole ballet idea, huh?”
Tom chuckled. “Actually, no. I tried to get her help but she told me I needed to man up and figure it out on my own.”
Caitlin tugged his hand to walk toward the building, stopping only because Tom didn’t move. She had a feeling she and Penny were going to become great friends.
“Aren’t we going in here?” she asked.
Tom grimaced. “If you’re not going to marry me I’m hardly going to sit through potentially hours of ballet.” His face went blank, serious.
“Tom!” she declared, hands on hips.
He laughed, catching her around the waist. “Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you’re angry?” he whispered in her ear.
Caitlin tried to push him away but he had hold of her and he was too strong. “No,” she whispered back, wriggling so she was facing him. Tom grabbed her and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her in the air. “But you can tell me all you like.”
“You’re cute,” he repeated on command.
“Kiss me,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, touching his mouth to hers.
“Don’t call me ma’am,” she told him, trying not to laugh.
“Yes, beautiful,” he said instead, cupping his hands beneath her bottom to keep her in place against him.
“Now that’s more like it,” she said, nose to nose with him.
Caitlin kissed him then. Arms and legs wrapped around him, lips pressed to his, in the middle of the street for everyone to see. As if they didn’t have a care in the world.
And they didn’t. For the first time in years, she was safe in the arms of a man she loved, and she couldn’t get enough of him.
EPILOGUE
CAITLIN wriggled from foot to foot in front of the floor-length mirror. She couldn’t stop staring at herself.
“Stay still,” Penny ordered.
Caitlin sighed at her soon to be sister-in-law’s bossy tone. It had been like this all day—being told what to do and feeling as though she was looking down somehow and watching herself rather than actually living through the experience. Kind of the way she used to feel when she was on stage performing, like a guardian angel looking down from above.
“I need to get down there,” she said, suddenly panicked, heart racing. “Do you think he’s here yet? Do you think he’s waiting?” Her heart started skipping even faster. “You do think he’s coming, right?”
Now it was Penny who was sighing, watching Caitlin in the mirror with a pained, almost humorous expression as she pushed a final pin into her hair and sat down beside her. “Yes, he’s here, of course he’s coming, and you don’t have to wait much longer. Just enjoy this. You’ll be spending the rest of you
r life with him, another fifteen minutes of being apart isn’t going to kill you. Now stop stressing!”
A loud knock echoed out. Caitlin looked at Penny, confused, until she heard his voice.
“Hey, beautiful, you in there?”
“Tom!” Caitlin called out, she couldn’t help it, even with Penny glaring at her. “Tom, come in.”
“Go away, Thomas!” Penny barked, fierce, marching across the room toward the door. “Don’t even think about opening that door.” Her voice was low now, like a growl.
Caitlin took a step back. So this was how Penny had been such a formidable soldier. Her tone alone was enough to send a weaker woman whimpering in the other direction.
“I need to see her,” Tom called back, sounding impatient. “Let me in, Penny.”
Caitlin stood, hitched up her dress and marched after Penny, confidence returned. “Let him in,” she said, trying to look as fierce as the other woman. “He’s my fiancé and I want to see him.”
“No!” Penny yelped. “You’re the bride and he is not, I repeat not, going to see you yet.”
There was silence and then a thud. Tom came crashing into the room, a sheepish expression on his face.
“Tom!” Penny yelled.
Caitlin laughed and pushed past Penny to get to him. To hell with tradition. “Hey,” she said, opening her arms. “Hey, you.”
“Hey to you, too,” Tom said, bending for a kiss, wrapping his arms around her so she was enveloped in his hold, tucked safely into his body. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, pressing another gentle kiss to her lips.
“You two are…” Penny threw her hands up in the air, beyond frustrated.
“What?” Caitlin asked, trying not to laugh. “We’re what?”
“Maybe neither of you have been to enough weddings, but you generally wait until after you become husband and wife to kiss the bride, Tom,” Penny insisted, hands on hips again as if she was really angry. “There’s this little thing called tradition.”
“Maybe we don’t like tradition,” he quipped.