by Lori Leger
One Year to Forever
Halos & Horns: Book Four
By
LORI LEGER
Copyright © 2014 Cajunflair Publishing (Lori Leger)
ISBN: 978-1-940305-34-9
Cajunflair Publishing Assigned
(Smashwords Edition License Notes)
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction based LOOSELY upon real occurrences, as told to the author.
It is not meant to be a biographical account.
Cover by Lori Leger
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Message From the Author
Cover Photography by Joan Granger
Snapshots of Ben & Haley
Portraits by Charlotta Benoit
Other Work by Author
Series Poster 1
Series Poster 2
About the Author
DEDICATION
To Ben and Haley.
The beautiful couple whose stories of Afghanistan,
Hawaiian islands, barrel racing, stretch limousines,
roses on Mondays, candlelit hotel rooms,
strawberries, champagne, chocolate hazelnut spread,
and rose petal trails leading to handwritten words of love,
inspired this novel.
May you always be as in love
with each other as you are today.
I don’t think my heart could take it, otherwise.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my husband for keeping the house from falling down around me during my all-consuming, deadline induced, sprints to the finish line. Your housekeeping and cooking skills are much appreciated, as is your ability to supply me with fresh coffee prepared exactly the way I like it. I love you, babe.
To my friend/ex-co-worker/book club member/Photographer Joan Granger of Simple Memories Photography In Welsh, LA for the fabulous cover shots of Ben Bonin and Haley Broussard. Thank you for making it difficult to choose a cover image. Thanks also for the better-than-I-really-look bio shot of the author. I wish I woke up looking that good!
www.simplememories.org
Sean and James Gayle of Patti’s Book Nook in my old hometown of Gueydan, La.
www.pattisbooknook.com
and
Christy Lepretre of Java Joltz in Jennings, LA
http://javajoltz.wix.com/javajoltz
Thanks to Matthew French, of militaryflighttravel.com for the informative phone conversation on chartered military flights and routes generally taken. I hope your wife approves.
Special thanks to Ben Bonin, for your dedicated service to your country, and also for opening up a world I knew nothing about. I hope you didn’t get too tired of the endless questions, texts, emails, phone calls and any other method I may have used to pick your brain. I did give you fair warning.
Thanks to Haley Broussard for ‘keeping the home fires burning’ by waiting faithfully for Ben at home. If you hadn’t, there would have been no story, or one not nearly as satisfying.
Thank you Monica Chapman, for ‘volunteering’ your son as research material. Seriously, you made this happen.
CHAPTER 1
Never say Never
“Stop that!”
Haley Broussard slapped her dance partner’s hand off her boob. He promptly moved his hand to her butt. She sent him an icy glare as she turned on her heels. He jerked her back around.
“Aw, don’t be like that, honey. We haven’t finished our dance yet.”
The creep seemed to have eight hands, each one simultaneously trying to cop a feel at whatever part of her body he could reach. Once more, she tried to escape, only to have him pull her back, this time disgustingly close to him. She averted her face, overcome by the stench of beer, bourbon, and stale cigarettes on his breath, then shuddered from the feel of his hardness against her hip. He was ready for her second attempt to pull away, and she barely managed a step back before he reeled her in. She slipped both hands between them and pushed with everything she had to give herself a little breathing room. “Look, what’d you say your name was?”
“My friends call me BJ.” He grinned drunkenly at her. “Cause there’s nothing like a good BJ.”
Haley cringed. Seriously? Did he think that line would produce anything but disgust from … well, anyone with gray matter? She pushed at him again, without much luck. “I’m not your friend, and—Ew. Now back the hell off! I accepted a dance, not a grope session.”
With both hands trapped between her body and his, Haley’s panic set in for real. Even under normal circumstances, she didn’t like her arms or hands confined. This was far from normal.
Craning her neck, she scanned the room for Matt, her brother, with no luck. She was near to succumbing to a full-blown, hyperventilating, panic attack when a hand landed on her partner’s beefy shoulder. A masculine voice—rich and ominous with barely contained anger, cut through the music.
“Excuse me, but is this asshole bothering you?”
Too relieved to speak, she somehow managed a nod at the straight-backed man who stood a good half head taller than her partner, but with a little less body mass. Maybe she couldn’t speak, but she could stare—at the clean-shaven line of his strong jaw, sexy eyes, and nice lips. What he lacked in bulk he made up for with broad shoulders and well-developed biceps that screamed of some kind of workout regimen—all in all, a well-rounded package for a much appreciated knight-in-shining-armor.
“I think the lady has had enough of you for tonight.”
Her captor used one arm to shove hard at the guy, while keeping a tight grip on her with the other. “Back off, ass-wipe.”
“Let her go man, you don’t want to do this tonight.” Her knight spoke with steely determination, totally controlled.
“What I want to do tonight doesn’t include you, so why don’t you buzz on outta here before you get hurt…junior.”
Haley winced from BJ’s iron grip on her forearm. Sure as shit, she’d have a bruise to explain to her irate father later. Her would-be rescuer must have seen it, because his next move was to situate himself between her and the asshole that refused to release her arm.
“Let her go, man.”
Meagan, one of the bartenders working that end of the room, pushed her way between the three of them, obviously hoping to ward off trouble before it started.
“You.” She pointed to the troublemaker. “Let her go, and then get on out. If you don’t want to be barred from this place forever, you’ll leave without another word.”
BJ glared at Meagan as though he was about to turn on her, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he swiveled his thick neck toward the knight and stuck one finger in his face. “You don’t want a piece of me, bro. You Louisiana boys don’t know dick about messin’ with somebody like me.” He shoved hard at the man’s chest, surprise registering clearly on his
face when it barely budged.
The bouncer pushed his way through the gathering crowd’s nucleus, packed tight with onlookers. “Break it up, now.”
“Mickey, that’s the one causing all the trouble.” Meagan pointed to the jerk still clutching at Haley’s arm.
BJ’s drunken gaze narrowed, seconds before he let go, but only to take a swing at Haley’s knight. Instead of taking one in the face, he grabbed BJ’s fist, twisted the man’s beefy hand neatly with his own and whipped it around. In one quick, graceful, and somewhat familiar move, he’d pinned both BJ’s arms behind his back.
Haley’s heart skipped in a mixture of admiration and distress over the suspicion that her knight was probably military. As a matter of fact, she was sure of it, as sure as she knew her horse’s favorite treat was apples.
He held BJ in position as he spoke to him. “I’m going to let you go, okay buddy? Go on home now and leave the lady alone.”
“Yeah, okay,” BJ hissed. Haley decided he’d already traded in what little brains he had for bravado, because the instant BJ was free he took a healthy swing at his captor.
She cringed, and heard the empty whoosh of a swing and miss, then a trio of lightening quick jabs. BJ spun like a well-trained ballerina and landed in the bouncer’s arms, saving him from a face-plant to the floor.
The bouncer shook his head, grumbling, as he half-carried, half-steered the punch-drunk BJ off to the exit. “Can’t say you weren’t warned, asshole.”
A large, but gentle hand pressed against Haley’s lower back, ushering her away from the scene. She glanced back and upward at the man escorting her. The no-nonsense expression on his face had the lingering crowd parting easily to let them pass. She slumped in an empty chair at Meagan’s end of the bar and turned to him. “Thanks for that, but who are you?”
“I’m Ben. Are you okay?” He examined her arm. “It’s not fractured, but you’re going to have a nasty bruise later.”
Meagan pushed her way to the two of them, her face a mask of concern. “Haley, are you all right? Did that guy hurt you?”
“She needs ice on this, Ma’am.”
“Right away.” Meagan scrambled off, leaving the two of them alone.
“So, Ben.” Haley smiled at him. “Do you have a last name?”
He returned the smile, answering in James Bond fashion. “Bonin—Ben Bonin.”
“Well, thank you Ben Bonin. I’m Haley Broussard.” She stared into beautiful hazel eyes, found herself admiring his smile. “What branch of the military are you in, Ben?”
He cocked his head. “Marines. How’d you know?”
She laughed and gestured at his head. “The short hair is always a sure sign, and then, there were those moves back there. My brother, also Marines, tried to teach me that same slip once, but I couldn’t get the hang of it.” She laughed and shrugged one shoulder. “He says I’m unteachable.”
Ben’s right brow lifted adorably. “Maybe you need a different instructor.”
Haley smiled and sucked in her breath, praying he no longer served. “Are you out, by any chance?”
“No, I came in this morning for my pre-deployment leave. My last deployment. I’ve got a year left, if I don’t re-up. Why?”
Uh, because even if you were St. Benjamin of Good Deeds, I don’t believe in long distance relationships? “No reason.”
He examined her arm closer. “Are you sure you’re all right? Do you need me to call someone for you?”
“No.” Haley scanned the area around them. “My brother’s here … somewhere.” She turned to face him again. “Really, I’m fine.” Her breath caught as one corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy as hell half-smile.
“That’s obvious, but do you want me to find your brother for you?”
A light snort accompanied her laughter. “If that’s a line, it’s a damn good one.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter. “I didn’t think I had any lines, but if it worked …”
Meagan approached with an icepack wrapped in a dishcloth. “Here you go, sweetie. Try this out for size.”
Ben took the pack from her and laid it gently against her arm, using his large hands to hold it in place. “How’s that feel?”
Fabulous, but was it the ice or the gentle touch of his hands on her? She fanned her face, slightly flustered from the nearness of him.
He leaned forward. “Haley? Does that feel okay?”
She blinked once and shook herself out of her stupor. “I’m sorry, I thought I answered you. Yes, that feels good.” She inhaled, breathing in the scent of him. The man smelled scrumptious.
He shook his head, frowning. “It always blows my mind when guys treat women that way.”
“Unfortunately, too many men in the world think that kind of behavior is acceptable.”
Ben pinned her with his gaze. “Real men know better.” He removed the ice pack and towel and began to make some adjustments. “Hang on, let’s try something.” Within minutes, he’d used the dishtowel as a wrap to tie the ice pack securely to her arm. “How’s that?”
She flexed her elbow, immediately missing the touch of his hands on her. “I think that’ll work. Thank you, Ben.”
He jutted his chin toward the makeshift wrap. “You think that thing will hold up for a dance, or are you too upset to go back out there?”
She cocked her head. “I guess that depends on who’s asking.”
“I’m asking.”
“I’m accepting.”
Ben led her to the outer edge of the dance floor, his hand placed at her lower back once more, a gentle reminder of the masculine presence he personified. Her heart set up a heavy thud at the feel of one of his hands covering hers, while the opposite rested almost protectively at her waist and back. One Chris Young ballad later, and she regretted leaving his arms.
Halfway back to the table the band picked up a quick country jitterbug. He leaned in close. “Can you dance to this?”
Haley gave him an enthusiastic nod. “I love to dance.”
“I’m not real good at it, but if you don’t mind me stepping on your toes, I’m game.”
She accepted, thrilled that he was willing to try for her. Several minutes later, she headed for the bar, breathless, both from laughter at his comical antics on the dance floor, as well as trying to keep up with him. A gentle tug on her hand had her spinning around to face him. The piano introduction announced a slow ballad by Hunter Hayes. His eyes issued a silent command: Dance with me. Without a word, and oh so willingly, she returned to the welcome cocoon of his arms.
Within seconds, he’d tucked her hand close to his chest. A minute later she looped her arms over his shoulders as he wrapped his around her waist. Resting her face on his chest, she released a long, slow sigh at the feel of his fingers gently caressing her back. She lifted her face to stare up into his. The look on his face, along with his next comment, took her breath away.
“I want to see you again, Haley. Is that okay with you?”
Game over. End of story. Any, and all free will she’d possessed at that point, had flown out the window like her cousin’s pet canary. She blinked several times and swallowed. “Absolutely.”
A dozen dances later she fidgeted nervously, waiting for Ben to return with their drink orders. Common sense told her she needed to get a good night’s sleep for the next day’s barrel race competition. All she wanted to do was cancel and spend all night talking to this man.
“Here you go.” Ben set the bottle of water she’d requested before her. “How’s the arm?”
She touched the ice pack and gave him a nod. “It’s good.” She checked her phone for the time.
“You gonna turn into a pumpkin at midnight, Cinderella?”
She glanced up into eyes sparkling with laughter. “No, but if I don’t get some sleep, my race will be a bust.”
He nodded. “I can respect that. Why throw all that practice away with one crappy night of sleep?”
“That’s right.” Haley
smiled, and then took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as she shot her brother a text saying she was ready to go. Seconds later, Matt answered, saying he’d meet her at his truck. She slipped her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and pouted at Ben’s expression. “I really don’t want to go.”
Ben took command of the situation, almost as though he were trying to make it easier for her. Taking her hand, he nodded toward the exit. “Come on, I’ll walk you outside.”
Halfway to the door, the DJ kicked off the band’s break with a song request for a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary. Ben pulled Haley to a stop as the mellow sound of Keith Urban’s Making Memories of Us flowed through the sound system.
No words were necessary. She nodded, and let him lead her to the rapidly filling dance floor. Obviously, they weren’t the only fans of the song. She turned in to his embrace, sucked in her breath as he took both of her hands in his, and slowly lifted them to his broad shoulders. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her tightly against his torso. The two of them danced slowly, swaying in time to the tune Haley had adored from the day of its release. She avoided his gaze, half afraid of what she’d find in those somber pools of hazel.
Ben had other ideas. He brought one hand forward slowly to cup and lift her chin, until their noses practically touched. “There you are.”
Haley stared into the handsome face that was a good combination of hard and soft, seriousness and humor. She had to wonder if this would be the last she’d see of this guy who, from what she could tell, projected all the qualities of a good Marine, a good man. He’d said he wanted to see her again, but did he mean it? He’d be leaving for Afghanistan in about three weeks for a six or seven month stretch away from home. Up to seven long months … and wouldn’t be out for another five months afterwards. A year—an entire year. Was he really interested in keeping up some kind of long distance relationship? And even if he was, was she up to that? She’d spent all of her adult life worrying about her brother through several years of Middle Eastern deployments. At least, she had, once she was old enough to realize what was going on.