Dear Soldier: BBW Contemporary Romance

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Dear Soldier: BBW Contemporary Romance Page 2

by Ashe, Karina


  A strand of hair falls from the chaotic bun atop her head to her cheek. Small enough to escape notice, but just long enough to look lost. Suddenly and irrationally, I want to tuck it behind her ear. But I should probably introduce myself before I start touching her, right?

  I circle the table and grab the back of the chair directly across from her.

  She looks up and my breath catches. Her eyes are a deep, chocolate brown. It’s a stark contrast to her pale skin, like nutmeg sprinkled over cream.

  My grip tightens on the back of the chair. Keep it light, Ian. “So, you’re drinking a dirty chai?”

  She frowns. “How did you know that?”

  “I asked your friend working behind the counter.”

  “Avery? And she actually told you?”

  Alright, I knew the barista didn’t think too highly of me but I didn’t think it was that bad. I needed to seize control of the conversation. Grinning, I lean to the side and ask, “So, what makes the chai here so dirty?”

  I don’t think it’s possible for Lily’s beautiful eyes to get any bigger. “What?”

  I clear my throat. “What makes the chai—”

  “No, I heard you the first time. I guess I just…didn’t believe or want to believe…I mean, I’ve never heard a pick-up line so…”

  I cringe. Yeah, this wasn’t my best moment.

  She bites her lip again, this time trying to hide a smile. “Damn, I’m being a bitch. I mean, look at me, dressed like this and here I am giving you advice.” Laughing, she turns her head towards the front windows, absently rolling the petal she’d been torturing for the past few minutes into a ball.

  I pull out the chair and sit. “Hey, your advice is good. And while it’s rare to see a woman your age dressed like that, it looks good on you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  I’m about to say something else, but her frown stops me.

  She sighs. “Look, I’m sorry but I’m saving that seat for someone.”

  “I know. Thank you.”

  “No, not you.” She balls up another petal. “I’m meeting someone here today. Someone special.”

  I freeze. Was she talking about someone else or…

  A chilling concern creeps into my mind. Does she not recognize me?

  Wait, stupid question. Of course she doesn’t recognize me. She’s never seen me before. But doesn’t she recognize my voice?

  She smashes the petal ball between her pointer finger and thumb. “So I need you to move. I don’t want you to scare this special someone away.”

  My eyes narrow into slits, sharpening my vision. Is that really what she thought of me? “You think the presence of some random guy is gonna scare your special someone away? Really? What kind of man do you think he is?”

  She finally puts down that poor, mutilated rose. “You don’t know anything about him.”

  “If he’s that much of a pussy, I don’t want to know anything about him.”

  She shakes her head, scoffing. “Wow. How mature.”

  I grit my teeth and take another sip of my dirty chai.

  Lily isn’t done yet. Not even close. “I’ll have you know the man I’m meeting is a refined gentleman.”

  I almost spit my drink out all over the table. Unfortunately, I only avoid that fate because I inhale it. I grab my shirt, coughing.

  Lily leaps into action. “Are you alright? Do you need me to perform the Heimlich maneuver?”

  I shake my head.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I wheeze. Refined gentleman? Really? Even after five cocktails my own grandmother wouldn’t call me that. I glower, putting my fist on the table to steady myself. “He’s not a refined gentleman.”

  And just like that, her sympathy for my condition disappears. “How would you know?”

  “Trust me, I know. If he showed up for a date and saw another guy sitting in his place makin’ eyes at you…well, let’s just say that other guy better pray to God he’s your fuckin’ brother.”

  Her mouth drops open.

  I give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I’m definitely not a refined—”

  “Get. Up.”

  I frown. “What?”

  “You think I can’t take care of myself?”

  Oh shit. I didn’t mean it like that. “Look, that’s not the point—”

  “You’re right, that isn’t the point. But I’ll give you a point, and I’ll make it simple so your caveman brain can understand it.”

  “Hey, hey, hey. I’m only about ten percent caveman. Granted, that percentage jumps up a few points when I’m around you, but—”

  She’s having none of it. Lily reaches for her purse, eyes hard and determined. “You have ten seconds to get out of that chair before I bust out the pepper spray.”

  Damn. I forgot how ‘diplomatic’ she could be. “Lil—”

  “I’m serious. The man I’m meeting is romantic and kind, and I’m not letting anything ruin our special day.”

  First I’m refined. Now, I’m romantic? Okay, that’s it. “Lily, seriously, what is romantic about a guy halfway across the world begging you to flash a webcam?”

  Her eyes fly open. “How do you know that? Wait, how did you know my name?”

  “So, there’s something I probably should have said when I first sat down but in my defense I thought you already knew.”

  That adorable blush on her cheeks blooms like a rose. “Oh god.”

  “Yeah, oh god is right.” I reach across the table and put my hand over hers. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 4

  July 4th

  Lily

  I can see it now. My friends all asking, Hey Lily, how did the meeting with the sexy soldier man you’ve been dreaming about for two years go? And me telling them, Oh great. In fact, less than five minutes after we met, I threatened to pepper spray him.

  This was why my mother feared I’d never get married, and who could blame her? What the hell had I been thinking? There was only one possible answer: I hadn’t been.

  In my defense, the man in front of me was hot in the way only daytime soap opera stars are hot. Deep blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones. Square jaw. A head full of dark, wild hair that’s slightly longer than it should be. And his body. Jesus fucking Christ, his body. It makes me reconsider my opinion of Empiricism—I think I need to touch that thing to make sure it’s real. Every part of the guy is so goddamn perfect that you can’t help but think to yourself that it would be a crime not to put the guy in front of a camera.

  And then, the guy starts “acting.”

  Or, in Ian’s case, he starts talking.

  What makes the chai so dirty? Really? What kind of opener was that? And what the hell was he wearing? “You’re supposed to be in a blue and white t-shirt!”

  He frowns, glancing at his shirt. “This isn’t blue and white?”

  “It’s black!”

  “No it’s…” he scowls at the shirt, “Navy. I think that’s what the guy told me. Which is a shade or hue or whatever of blue, right?”

  “Alright, it’s navy,” I concede. “But where are the white stripes?”

  “Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

  But it did matter. I just chewed him out. In public! I mean, hell, I almost pepper sprayed him! “You wear the shirt, I bring the rose. That’s what we decided.”

  He smirks. “I think you could have skipped the rose if you were gonna dress like a fish.”

  “I’m not a fish,” I tell him. “I’m a beached mermaid.”

  He gives me the biggest WTF expression I’ve ever seen in my life.

  Alright, I guess that didn’t explain much. “It’s a long story. You were supposed to carry me to my watering hole.”

  The WTF expression is still there. “Mermaids live in watering holes?”

  “Just, any hole with water in it…like the ocean…”

  “I think the ocean’s a little bigger than a hole.�


  I shake my head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s a theme,” I tell him.

  His scowl deepens. “But what does the Fourth of July have to do with fish?”

  “Beached mermaids!” I correct.

  “Alright, what does the Fourth of July have to do with beached mermaids?”

  I suddenly wish there was a seashell lying around that was large enough for me to crawl inside of. “Nothing.”

  He laughs. “Look, I’m just teasing. It doesn’t matter if you’re supposed to be a fish or a mermaid or a Kraken…”

  A Kracken!?!??! He thinks I look like a gigantic, octopus-like, blood-thirsty sea monster from the deep????

  “…You look damn good to me,” he finishes.

  I slump in my seat. “You’re just saying that.”

  “Oh, are you fishing for compliments now?”

  I poke his shin under the table with my toe. “Bad puns aren’t going to let you off the hook for comparing me to a freaking Kraken.”

  He dazzles me with another grin. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, because I think those damn dimples of his would bring me to my knees.

  And then, his sexy mouth ruins it. “Off the hook, huh?”

  I let out an epic zombie groan. “Oh God. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  His blue eyes darken. “Is that so?”

  My throat suddenly feels tight. Certain other parts of me suddenly feel tight, too, and the intensity of his gaze sure isn’t helping things. How can he make me go from exasperated to sex-crazed in less than ten seconds? It shouldn’t be possible. In fact, none of this should be possible. How is this the Ian who reminded me of the true meaning of honor and sacrifice? Who’d make sure to respond to my letters a few hours after reading them? Who’d been begging me to flash my webcam for the past month?

  Alright, I guess he wasn’t a gentleman. Actually, he was kind of an asshole, to be honest, but he was a nice asshole. I was expecting some guy with a crew cut, skin reddened from the sun, and a nice smile. Someone quiet and simple and noble like the only other soldier I’d known: my brother. Not a guy like…this.

  “You can’t be Ian,” I whisper.

  He raises his eyebrows.

  His sexy, sculpted eyebrows.

  His amazing…gorgeous…oh my God why am I obsessing over eyebrows? Who finds eyebrows sexy? Seriously, who?

  I glare at him. “Prove it.”

  “Prove what?”

  “That you’re my guy.”

  He grins. “You really want me to do that?”

  Well, I had wanted him to. But now that he was grinning like that, I wasn’t so sure.

  “Why don’t you think it’s me? Don’t you recognize my voice?”

  “Your voice is a lot scratchier on Skype.”

  “That’s because of static.”

  I guess he had me there. “Still. You’re just…not what I expected.”

  His grin becomes downright sinful. “Am I better?”

  Was he better? Jesus Christ, I didn’t even know guys came like this.

  He chuckles, reaching for his dirty chai. “I had a feeling our first meeting would be like this.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “With you running your mouth off and me thinkin’ of all the dirty ways I could silence it.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Believe it, sweetheart. I’ve been dreaming of ways to get you out of your clothes for over a year. I’ve gotten pretty creative.” He raises his cup, giving my “shells” an appreciative nod. “And it’s a good thing, ‘cause it’s gonna take a lot of creativity to get you out of that thing you’re in.”

  Chapter 5

  Lily

  Alright, my body had a very…creative…response to his comment about my dress. Going into it probably isn’t the best idea. Let’s just say it was really hard for me to focus on anything after that. I don’t know how much time has passed before he leaned over and asked me if I want to go somewhere.

  I look at his long, strong fingers and the rippling muscles his shirt cannot contain. Suddenly, my thoughts get super creative again.

  I shut my eyes. Breathe, girl! “U-uh…”

  Moving your hands around while your eyes are closed is not a good idea. I know this. I only did it because if I kept them open I might’ve pushed him back onto the table behind us and proceeded to rip off that navy shirt. That wouldn’t have been good for business.

  So, yeah, I kept those eyes nice and tight.

  And, because I was filled with nervous energy, I started wringing my hands.

  Which is how I knock over my cup.

  My eyes fly open. Shit. Luckily I’ve already consumed my dirty chai. Unluckily, this gets Avery’s attention. The espresso machine starts hissing behind us like an awakening dragon in the mood for BBQ.

  “I think we should get out of here,” Ian whispers.

  He looks a little scared of Avery, and I can’t blame him. Even I’m freaked out by the way she’s looking at him while cleaning the espresso machine.

  “Okay,” I whisper and all of my lady bits leap into action like a mass of salmon. All of my lady bits jump into action like a…group? flock? oh, whatever…of salmon desperately trying to leap up waterfalls to get to their spawning ground.

  And oh my god where the fuck did that thought come from?

  “You okay?” Ian whispers, concerned.

  “Yeah.” No, actually I’m not.

  “You sure? What are you thinking?”

  Did I want to tell him that I compared my libido to a bunch of salmon ready to spawn? No. No I did not.

  “Let’s bounce,” I tell him. And because Avery’s glaring at us, he doesn’t argue.

  ***

  Lily

  It wasn’t a question of if, but when.

  I knew this, and yet he was wandering around the town, greeting kids and couples, and listening to the locals blather on about our town’s history.

  Stuff like how they put in new stoplights a few years back.

  How Tipper lost her cat…but then found it two days later.

  And about how when Jim was confronted by his wife about why the trash still hadn’t been taken out, he told her it was because he was abducted by a UFO.

  You know, really important stuff like that. When Ian told me he wanted to buy every kid in the park an ice cream cone, I decided it was time to intervene.

  “Aren’t you…thinking of something?” I ask, running my finger up his chest coyly.

  He frowns. “About what?”

  About fucking! I want to scream, but you can’t really do that in a park full of families waiting to see Fourth of July fireworks. I look around with a huff. “I just think we’ve spent enough time mingling, is all.”

  Ian sighs. “I don’t know, Lily. I gotta do damage control.”

  “Damage control?”

  “Yeah. You told Avery about…how I tried to get you to send me certain pictures…”

  Oh, god damnit! “She didn’t tell anyone else.”

  His eyes narrow in on me. “Did you tell anyone else?”

  I bite my bottom lip.

  “Uh oh,” he whispers. “I don’t like the look of that.”

  Funny, because I didn’t like the look of his look.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something from me, Lily, would you?”

  “Hiding?” I laugh like a chirping chipmunk. “You already know everything about me!”

  He steps closer, smiling slowly. “Do I?”

  “I think so.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, like, when I use my brain it tells me things.”

  He shakes his head, chuckling. “What?”

  “Ugh, the stupid thing that just came out of my mouth is totally your fault!”

  “My fault?”

  “Yeah. I can’t think when you start slithering towards me and looking at me like you’re gonna…” I gulp. “Do things.”

  “What sorts of
things?”

  Don’t get fresh with me, Mister. You know exactly what sorts of things, is what I should say and if I did, my grandma would totally rise from her grave and high-five me. But since zombified grannies would be a little out of place for a sunny Fourth of July potluck in the park, I decide not to.

  “Look, ‘the things’ don’t matter. Don’t you have ice cream to hand out?”

  “I think the kids are having fun with their balloons and…” he raises a hand, procuring a sparkler, “…sparklers.”

  “Uh…why are you holding that like you’re gonna stick it somewhere?”

  He grins. “Don’t worry. I always play responsibly.”

  That response doesn’t make me worry any less!

  He pulls a lighter out of his pocket.

  Oh shit! “H-hey…!”

  “I know you’re hiding something from me, Lily,” he says, grinning. “I know you told other people about the pictures.”

  “Well, it was a creepy thing to do. I needed the support of my girls to deal with how creepy it was.”

  “Your girls?” he asks sweetly. “How many of those are there?”

  I bite my lip again. Here’s the thing. I told maybe 5 or ten people, I don’t completely remember. But some of those girls like to talk. A lot. In all honestly, I was afraid to speculate just how many knew. “Look, the number doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh, I think it matters.”

  “I really don’t,” I squeak, taking another step back.

  He raises his thumb. “Last chance, Lily.”

  Last chance for what!?!?

  “Tell me how many people, I won’t tell you what I’ve been hiding from you.”

  Wait, what? I put my hands on my hips. “Hey, what do you mean you’ve been hiding something from me?”

  He flicks the lighter on. “Uh huh.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  “You go first.”

  I glare at him. “What is this, second grade?”

  He gives me a slow, knowing smile. “I know you are but what am I.”

 

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