by Jessica Loft
She stepped out of the elevator and made her way to his door. She frowned when she saw that it was open. About to call out his name, she stopped when she heard a female voice.
“Come on Zachy. What’s the big deal? We can just pick up right where we left off,” the husky voice purred.
Zoe’s heart stopped, but her legs propelled her forward. A stunning brunet stood in Zach’s living room. He stood in front of her, hands on his hips. Zoe noticed how close they were. She swallowed.
“Zach.”
Two pairs of eyes swung to her. Zach seemed surprised. He glanced at his watch.
“Zoe, you’re early.”
She lifted a brow. That was all he had to say? Had he planned to have fun with the long-legged Amazon before she arrived?
“Zoe this is Priscilla, my-”
“His fiancé,” the woman purred.
Zoe’s heart ceased to beat for the second time since arriving. Her eyes moved from Zach to Priscilla. Zach looked ready to explode. He stepped toward her.
“Zoe don’t listen-”
“Zach, what is she talking about?”
“We are no longer engaged, Zoe. That was a lifetime ago.”
“Actually, it’s only been a year, and we’re going to work things out,” Pricilla said, eyeing Zoe with disdain.
Zach spun around to face Pricilla.
“Like hell, we are. It’s time for you to leave.”
“No, I’ll leave,” Zoe said, turning toward the door on shaky legs.
Strong fingers shackled her wrist.
“Not so fast. Priscilla, I said leave. Do I have to get security to throw you out?” Zach’s face was dark with anger. He had spent the last ten minutes before Zoe arrived trying to get rid of the exasperating woman. She was like a parasite, refusing to go away.
Priscilla pouted.
“You can’t be serious, Zach.”
“Get the hell out!” He roared, causing her to clutch her chest dramatically. With a huff and flip of her hair, she stomped out. Zoe received another hateful glare before the door slammed.
She studied Zach carefully, not sure how to feel about what she had walked in on. She supposed she was relieved that he and Priscilla were over. But, why hadn’t he told her he was engaged just one year ago? Jealousy reared its ugly head. He must have been in love with Priscilla to ask her to marry him. She was still not sure exactly what he felt for her.
“I’m sorry about that, Zoe. She just showed up. I think I need to move.”
She smiled sadly and shrugged.
“She wanted to reconcile, huh? Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?”
Zach wiped a hand across his face.
“I didn’t think it was important, seeing as how my relationship with her was a sham. It turned out that she was only interested in marrying my money.”
“Did you love her?”
“At the time I proposed, I thought I did.”
“I see.” She looked down to study the floor. “Um, I should go.”
Zach frowned.
“Why? I thought you had tonight off.”
“I do but, I just remembered that there’s something that I have to do, for school.”
Zach cocked a brow.
“Just remembered, huh. This has nothing to do with you finding out I was engaged?”
“Of course not. That was in your past. I have no right or need to be upset over that.” What bothered her was the fact that she had foolishly fallen head over heels in love with him, and he didn’t feel the same way. Who could blame him? He was probably wary of love after finding out that the woman he had asked to marry him was only interested in his money.
“Then why do you want to leave all of a sudden? Don’t give me the same crap about having something to do for school. I know you’re lying.”
Zoe flushed and sent him a glare. With a sigh, she admitted,
“Fine, you got me. I just wanted to go home and think; that’s all.”
“About us?”
“Yes. Maybe we need to spend a little time apart. Give each other some space.”
Zach studied her intently. He didn’t know whether to be amused or hurt. He was usually the one to deliver those lines. Now he was on the receiving end. Karma had come full circle to bite him in the ass.
“Is that what you really want, Zoe?"
Hell no.
“Well, wouldn’t you like some space?”
He gave her a pointed look.
“I’m still waiting for your answer, Zoe. Do you want space?”
She sunk her teeth into her lower lip and he suddenly had the urge to kiss her.
“Stop that,” he snapped.
“What?”
“That thing you do with your lips. It’s distracting, and we need to finish this conversation.”
Zoe let out an annoyed huff.
“The answer is no. I don’t want any space. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind if I was with you every minute of every day, which might sound pathetic and needy to a man like you. I mean, you’re probably tired of me by now or getting there.” Zoe turned away and headed toward the window to peer out over the city.
“I can’t help that I fell in love with you. You made it so damn easy with your charm and generosity and great sex and everything else. Did I mention the great sex?”
Zach grinned, elated. For three months he had wondered how Zoe felt about him, and now he knew. It was a good thing she was in love with him. It would be quite embarrassing to profess his love if she didn’t feel the same way.
“Are you finished?” He asked.
“No. If you want your space or if you want to end things, I would understand. I have been preparing myself for the day since we started seeing each other. I’m young, but I pride myself on being understanding and rational.”
“Now are you finished?” He came to stand behind her as she continued to stare out the window.
She nodded. What else was there to say? She certainly wouldn’t beg him to stay with her.
“First of all, you were the one who suggested we give each other space. The thought never crossed my mind. If you haven’t realized, I love spending time with you. I love being with you. I love hearing you laugh. I love seeing you smile." He placed his lips closer to her ear. “I love how you moan in my ear when I’m inside of you. I love the look of pleasure on your beautiful face when you come undone in my arms.”
Zoe gulped. Her body temperature quickly rose and desire shot through her. Zach smiled, knowingly hearing the slight catch in her breathing. He continued.
“I love everything about you, Zoe. I love you. So you can take back your offer to give me space. I don’t want it.”
Zoe turned to face him, tears clinging to her lashes.
“Are you sure, Zach? Are you sure you love me?”
“I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”
She flung her arms around his neck and found his lips. He held her tightly and returned her kiss.
“The last three months have been incredible. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Zoe. If you feel you’re too young to get married, I’ll wait.”
“I’ll marry whenever you want,” she whispered.
He smiled, setting her on her feet. He noticed her smile fading.
“What’s wrong?”
“Now I can’t work for your company after graduation.”
He let out a relieved sighed. For a moment he thought she had changed her mind about marrying him. Laughing, he said,
“I can hire whoever I want, even my wife.”
Zoe scoffed.
“There’s no way I’m working for you now, although, engaging in office sex is quite exhilarating, based on my experience.” She shook her head. “No, I can’t take a job at your company just for office sex.
“I rather like the idea.”
“Of course, you would.”
“I also like the idea of showing you how much I love you, right here by the window as we gaze over the
city.”
Zoe’s pulse picked up speed. It never ceased to amaze her, the effect just his words had on her.
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Zach. We should put it into action.”
He grinned and pulled her to him.
Now Enjoy The Next Story Below Or Choose One From The Table of Contents
Twice In Love With My Navy SEAL
Chapter 1
He felt the dream come over him with a mix of anticipation and dread.
Anticipation, because he would see Lily. He would be able to hear the husky midnight sound of her voice, see that gold dust skin, her dark, exotic eyes. For the brief eternity of a dream, he would hold her body in his arms again.
She was always twenty, with bright eyes and that youthful glow, the way she had been the last time he saw her. A beautiful, confident girl with big plans and a soft heart.
The dream didn't do her justice. His memories could never fully bring back the true feeling, the true essence of her. He could have picked her scent out anywhere- a rare blend of amber and flowers and something wild that he couldn't identify- but he couldn't completely recall the exact smell.
Time began to move, in the unreality of dream reality. He could feel her hair, long and heavy and dark, on his bare chest, feel her lips move over the skin of his stomach, moving lower. Even as he groaned in anticipation, dread washed over him.
Bombs. Explosions. The rapid tat-tat-tat of guns being fired. He was losing the feel of euphoria, the scent of her being overpowered by the stench of sweat and blood and fear.
Brinson, I love you.....
Brinson! Help me! I'm hit! That son of a bitch got me...
He couldn't hear Lily. His ears were full of Daniel's scream. His arms were full of his brother soldier, another eighteen year old, bleeding to death in his arms even as he screamed for a medic.
I'm done for, ain't I?
No, no, help's coming, Dan. You'll be fine, you'll be going home soon now. Just hang on.
Shit, Brin. You're a terrible liar. Tell my mama..
Tell her yourself, when you get home.
Tell her I love her, will you?
Sure, sure. Tell her yourself.
Then reality shifted and it was Lily in his arms, bleeding through the white silk of her wedding dress.
Brinson sat up in a cold sweat. His pulse was pounding. He took several deep breaths before shoving the covers off and making his way to the bathroom. Brinson splashed cold water on his face and checked the time on the watch he never took off. The green glow pointed to four fifteen a.m.
"Might as well stay up," he said to the empty apartment. He pulled on his bright red running shoes with a loose pair of running shorts and made his way outside into the eerie predawn that is four a.m.
The heavy smell of salt and sand came to him, a cool breeze blowing off the ocean and hitting his bare chest as he stretched. He jogged the two blocks to the beach, letting his body loosen up.
He felt his muscles come to life as he saw the waves hitting the sand. He increased his speed, refusing to think of anything except his body's progress as he began the daily five mile run that kept his stamina in top form.
Brinson had discovered that physical activity was a sure fire way to focus his mind. He was unaware of the softening of his features as his feet made dull thudding sounds on the sand. Before his run, any innocent passerby could be forgiven for thinking the tall, muscular man was unapproachable, even dangerous.
He lifted weights on the nights he couldn't sleep. That, by his own calculations, was roughly five times a week. Brinson had taken the body that the Army had honed and improved it to that of a professional athlete. His muscles were bigger now, more defined, his stomach taut, his thighs hard.
Brinson would have been surprised to hear that other people thought he looked dangerous. Formidable he could believe, but in his own mind, Brinson saw himself as more or less the same guy he had always been.
Brinson looked at his daily run as a necessity. He ate like a twelve year old, existing on dry, sugary cereal and fast food. He did try to eat a salad every other day, if he remembered, but he made up for his diet with a rigorous exercise regimen and a lot of vitamins.
Brinson slowed to a jog, then a walk as he neared his apartment. Now he could allow himself to think.
The dream hadn't come in years. When he'd left the army, it had plagued him almost nightly. He had availed himself to the therapy offered, and felt that he had overcome the demons that had followed him back from that desert. The dream's absence had Brinson believing he was cured. Now its sudden reappearance left him rattled.
That Dan was dead was a fact he had come to terms with. He'd visited Daniel's family when he got his discharge. He'd delivered Dan's final message, assured them that their son, their brother, had died a hero's death.
He almost believed it himself. That an eighteen year old kid from Ohio that loved to fish with his dad and dreamed of opening a summer camp for troubled kids had died for a reason.
Lily was alive. He knew that. She'd graduated college, moved back to the Apache reservation in Arizona with her new teaching degree. She'd gotten married and moved to Montana, had a baby a year later.
Brinson knew because he owned and operated Apache Investigations, a private investigation and security firm. People assumed he called it Apache for the Army helicopters. He knew it was for Lily.
Lily had blown him away. The first time he'd seen her walking on the beach, Brinson couldn't believe his eyes. He thought she looked like a goddess in an emerald green bikini. The sun hit her dark, waist length hair, making it shine like black fire.
He'd never walked up to a girl before in his life, but he walked up to Lily. They had both felt the connection instantly. They sat under a beach umbrella and talked for hours.
He learned that she was from the San Carlos reservation in Arizona. She'd been raised by her grandparents. Her mother was Native American, her father was a mystery. She wanted to be a teacher. She'd started taking college courses while still in high school to give herself a jump start.
"It's so poor. The elders are trying to help people, but it's hard. I'm going to teach so that I can help. You've never seen poverty like that, Brinson. I'm going to help my tribe, my community," Lily explained, her eyes shining. Whenever she talked of her home, Lily's whole being seemed to glow from within.
Brinson had been impressed by her passion. He'd never met anyone so committed to a cause. Plenty of girls wanted to save the whales or rescue puppies, but they weren't focused like Lily. She had a real plan, a real solution for what she believed in.
He learned later that she studied constantly. She was on scholarship and determined to stay on the dean's list. She worked part time at a veterinarian clinic to pay for what the scholarship didn't cover. She didn't drink or party or date.
But she agreed to go to dinner with him.
He told her about his mother's real estate company, his father's law firm, his own vague plans for opening a jet ski rental place on the beach. At twenty-three, he was less sure of his path than she was at twenty.
Until he met Lily, Brinson's main goal was hanging out on the beach and smoking the expensive cigars he took from his father's study. He had a job at one of the glass bottom boat tour places, but he knew that wasn't a career. He felt his lack of ambition keenly when he talked to Lily.
She went to dinner with him in a white dress that she bought in a thrift store near campus. He had immediately felt ashamed of his plan to take her to a fancy restaurant and charm the dress off of her.
He took her to a local cafe instead. They ate chicken sandwiches and onion rings and drank Pepsi, talking about everything. The staff ran them out at eleven.
When he dropped her off at her dorm, Brinson had asked her out again.
She had said yes.
It was the start of the most magical year of his life. He had never been crazy about a girl before Lily. Brinson supposed that she was his first love. That would explain hi
s obsession with her, even now. The way she crossed his mind at odd times, the way he would feel the sudden need to call her, to hear Lily's voice.
Brinson thought about what he knew about Lily's life now. It was bare bones, the stuff an investigator discovers from an internet search. It was all he had, but Brinson clung to that information like a life line.
He knew that she was widowed now. Her husband, Todd, had died in a freak accident three years ago, leaving her with a four year old daughter and a hunting resort in Western Montana.
Brinson remembered his sorrow the day his search had shown him Todd's obituary. His first thought had been that Lily must be crushed. She had probably been scared, too, facing raising a child alone.
Brinson had wanted to call her that day. He had wanted to reach out, offer some kind of comfort. He still wanted to call her. All he could think of was calling her.
What would you say? "Hey, it's me, Brinson. It's been nearly twelve years but I'm still in love with you?"
He smiled as he imagined Lily's horrified reaction.
Once back at the apartment, Brinson showered and dressed in his usual uniform of tan cargo shorts and a snug t-shirt, helping himself to a bowl of sugary cereal and a pot of coffee. The caffeine and sugar hit his blood stream, giving him the usual rush.
After any physical exertion, Brinson found himself craving sugar and junk food. He supposed it was his inner beach bum rebelling. The thought brought a smile to his face.