Though she had to see him. She had to.
Or maybe she was choosing not to.
Maybe his apology hadn’t been enough to convince her to take another chance on him. She’d seemed confused by it. Then again, he’d forgotten most of what he’d planned to say once he’d gotten a good look at her in that sexy little number she was wearing.
He tried to recall where he went wrong, but came up blank.
Her door shut. A few minutes later, it opened again. She got in her car and left.
“Deviating from schedule, I see,” he mumbled and took a drink of water.
These days, he was all about water. Couldn’t get enough. Though the occasional beer didn’t hurt. But the hard stuff, the stuff he’d sustained himself on over the past seven months, he’d dumped every bit of it away and prayed that he wouldn’t feel the need to go to the ABC store to buy more.
Maybe he should try again with Skylar. This time in a not-so-grand gesture… just show up at her house with whatever was on sale at the Piggly Wiggly.
Yeah, maybe he should try being original because that was her thing.
He glanced down at the mail in his lap and began to sort through them, opening one with handwriting he didn’t recognize.
A check fell out. It was from Skylar, for the exact amount of the HVAC system he had replaced for her.
Was he that damn awful that she couldn’t bring herself just to say thank you and accept his gift? Did she really think he’d hold it over her one day?
The answer was clearly yes. He knew she couldn’t afford to pay this kind of money out all at once—replacing a system wasn’t cheap by any means.
He tossed the mail and the check to the side, exhaling. Bomber nosed his hand and put his head in his lap. “I know, buddy.”
His cell phone rang, and he answered it. “Lawson.”
“Lieutenant Lawson.”
“Sir. Good to hear from you.”
“To be blunt, this isn’t a social call. We’d like you to reconsider your medical discharge and reenlist.”
“But that’s not possible.”
“You’re a SEAL. Everything is possible.”
His captain had a point. “Yes, sir.”
“Anyway, we’ll get a medical waiver and pronounce you fit for duty. You are fit for duty, son.”
“Yes sir.” He rubbed his leg. “When would you need me?”
“Fourteen days. You’d report to Little Creek. We have a mission in need of a breacher.”
Mason’s breath caught in his throat. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me. Be here at O-six hundred on the 18th.”
“No, sir. Yes, sir.”
Mason ended the call and rose to his feet. Bomber kept up with him. “Gotta get in shape, boy. If I can’t pass the medical portion, then they won’t issue a waiver.”
He went to his room, changing into a pair of short and running shoes. Then he half jogged down the stairs and ordered Bomber to stay.
A smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. Nothing would stop him now.
*
“Son of a bitch.” Mason’s entire body throbbed from head to toe. For three days, he’d been training his body according to the final week of SEAL boot camp, but his bad leg just wasn’t having it.
He stumbled, falling to the ground. Sticks and rocks dug into his palms. “Fuck.”
With a deep breath, he got back on his feet and forced himself to run the rest of the way home. Agony shot through him with every step. When he hit the front porch steps, he finally allowed himself to stop.
Bomber greeted him, but Mason pushed him away and headed to the medicine cabinet, downing twice the amount he normally took.
But hey, at least he was washing it down with water.
Not that anyone cared. And by anyone, he meant Skylar. He hadn’t seen her in days—she’d never come back once her students had left.
A part of him was more than a little worried, while the other was pissed off as hell that he cared at all. She had gotten to him, gotten all under his skin without even trying.
It fucking hurt to be without her.
Heading to the bathroom, he cut on the shower and stepped inside. The water was cold at first, a total shock to his overheated system, then it quickly warmed up until it scalded his skin.
He didn’t move though. A SEAL withstood the heat, the cold, the rain…and yeah, he might have made that shit up and borrowed a bit from the post office, but at the moment, it was all he had.
The next day, he tried again and this time, he fell so hard that he blacked out. When he came to in his living room, he had no recollection of getting there.
Until he saw the two men sitting across from him—his brothers, Caleb and Tristan.
“You selfish bastard,” Tristan said, rising from his seat. “If you have a fucking death wish, then I’ll be glad to pump your ass full of lead, but for you to disappear for days…”
Caleb put out a muscular arm, stopping him from giving Mason the ass kicking he’d had coming for a while now. “He didn’t disappear.”
Confused, Mason’s gaze bounced between the two of them. “How did I get back?”
“I found you by the side of the road this morning. You were bleeding from the temple. Luckily, it was just a shallow cut, but head wound bleed like crazy,” Caleb said. “I got you in my truck and carried you home.”
Bomber shoved his nose in Mason’s face, licking his cheek.
“Our brother is clearly having difficulty with his time line,” Tristan bit out. “Mason, you haven’t answered your phone in days, and when I came by earlier, no one was home.” He jerked his head toward their older brother. “His truck wasn’t here either. I waited an hour for someone to show up.”
“I told you I had to go back to work for a couple of hours. We’re getting in wheat. Bomber watched Mason for me.”
Tristan smashed his lips together, his jaw tight.
“I didn’t disappear. I’ve been training.” Mason attempted to sit up, but the pain in his thigh made black spots appear.
“Training for what?”
“SEALs want me back. I have until the eighteenth to be fit to report for duty.”
Tristan seemed to settle down at that explanation. “You could have called.”
“You’re not my keeper.”
“And you’ve let every damn one of us know it.” Tristan exploded from his seat and got right in Mason’s face. “We still care about you even if you don’t give a damn about us.”
“I care, but I have to do this. I can’t let this opportunity pass me by.”
Tristan’s face softened slightly. “Mase…damn it. You need a doctor.”
“Yeah, and I planned on going to one before I reported to Little River,” he shot back.
“You should have gone before you started training.”
His brother did have a point, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “I’ll go tomorrow.”
“Preston’s already been by to check on you,” Caleb finally said, his gaze not quite meeting Mason’s. “I know he’s not a doctor, but he’s knowledgeable enough to know when a man…” his brother swallowed, “when a man needs to accept that he’s not getting back the life he used to have. It’s time you focus on a new path.”
If anyone knew about being forced to accept that he couldn’t have what he used to, it was Caleb—the quiet brother. The widower.
“Shit.” He fell back against the cushions and exhaled, “I’m getting a second opinion.”
“No,” Tristan disagreed. “You need a second chance with the one who healed you. Without her, you have no future, and that’s the honest truth.”
“What if she says no?”
“Then you keep trying until she says yes. Until she realizes that your serious and will never hurt her like that again.”
Mason shot Tristan a look. “I will if you will.”
Tristan’s jaw worked for a moment, then… “Deal.”
Chapter Fourteen
‡
For a week, Skylar hadn’t been able to get Mason off her mind. Not even the prospect of meeting relatives had been able to push him out.
Curiosity had gotten the better of her after she discovered that a Holland owned a store called Carolina Dreams in the town her mother grew up in, so she’d packed her bags, made a reservation at the local B & B there, and set out for Holland Springs.
Only the closer she got, the less she cared about making that connection, and the more she felt a pull back to Jessamine. But she refused to turn the car around.
Instead, she’d spent two days and nights at Chesson House, composing music on her iPad and talking with the owner, Haven, then drove down to the coast and booked a room at The Magnificent Dunes so she could spend time exploring the beach and put everything out her mind but her surroundings.
However, no matter how hard she tried to forget him, everything reminded him of her—from dinners of crab and steak to a pair of dog tags framed in a shadow box in her room.
She shouldn’t think about him, and she shouldn’t hurt so much when she thought about her future without him. She shouldn’t want him back in her life.
Mason didn’t want her. He had apologized for hurting her, that was it, she reminded herself. Besides, if he had wanted to be with her, then he would have said so. He wasn’t one to mince words, or waste his time.
Skylar pulled her car into the drive just as it started to pour.
“Just my luck,” she muttered, waiting for it to let up before she attempted to go inside. The only thing she didn’t like about her house was the lack of a garage. Even ifnCharlotte, she’d had a parking deck.
Suddenly, her door was thrown open, and she was unceremoniously yanked by the arm.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Holland Springs,” she gasped, shoving away from Mason. The rain had her soaked in seconds, and she glared at him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Chest rapidly rising and falling, he stood there, his hair plastered to his head while wearing only a pair of shorts and running shoes. “I was worried about you.”
“I’m not your concern.”
He reached for her again, but she danced out of his reach. “I’m done playing games.” His arm shot out, his hand wrapping around her wrist, then he hauled her over his shoulder. “And you are completely my concern.”
“I am not a sack of potatoes, Mason.” She beat at his back until he put her down on her porch. The rain pounded away, but at least they weren’t out in the elements anymore.
Water dripped down from his hair, his lashes, and nose. She fluttered her lashes, trying to get the water out of her eyes. “Why are you here?”
“Because I made a mistake.” He framed her face in his hands. “I want to be with you. I want to make things work. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
Mason waited for her to say something, but she only stared at him with her pretty eyes. He’d probably scared her half to death. Hell, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was relying purely on instinct at this point.
When he’d seen her car pull up, something inside of him snapped. The next thing he’d knew, he’d put down his bottle of pills and hauled ass over here, leaving Bomber pawing at the door.
Damn it.
He would have to do better by him. Bomber was a hell of a work dog—practically family.
“I—I don’t understand,” she finally said and he let out a breath of relief, but she tried pulling away. He knew that if she left his arms, that if he let her walk into her house without him, she would be lost to him forever.
“Skylar.”
“What?”
He covered her mouth with his, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. Liquid fire roared through his body. This woman was his. She belonged to him. He lifted her up in his arms, her legs wrapping around him as she kissed him back with so much passion that his head swam.
She shoved him away again, and he let her slide to the floor. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to make love to you.”
“No condoms out here.” She bit her lip. “Guess you’ll have to go home.”
There was no way in hell he was going home, at least not without her.
He took one look at her door, then at the mat on the porch. Lifting it, he produced a key. Then he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Invite me in, Skylar.”
Without a backwards look at him, she stepped inside, darkness enveloping her. “Mason.”
That was all he needed. Stalking to her, he cupped the back of her head and slanted his mouth over hers once more. Their kiss turned hot, needy.
She dug her nails into his shoulders until he couldn’t take it. Spinning her around, he stripped her of her dress only to find her wearing nothing under it.
He slapped her plump ass cheek. “This is unexpected.”
“I ran out of lingerie.”
“You didn’t mean to stay that long?”
Turning to face him, she shook her head. “I only stayed away so I could get you out of my head.”
“Did it work?” He kept his eyes on her face, refusing to look at her perky breasts, sweet curves, or the dark curls that made him break out into a sweat.
“No.”
They came together then, hands everywhere, mouths and teeth nipping as he fought for control. He wanted her badly, his need to be inside of her even worse.
“Condoms,” he panted against her rain-slicked skin. “Still in your room?”
She nodded and he pulled her along the hallway, stopping every so often to kiss her lips, her breasts, or to simply fall to his knees and worship her with his mouth until she begged him to stop.
He stood and just looked at her, took in her beautiful face and expressive eyes. He touched the corner of her mouth, traced the line of her jaw, and swept his fingers across her cheeks.
Her lashes fluttered shut.
“I’m still here,” he said, half-afraid she was shutting him out.
Her eyes opened. “I know.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m still here, too.”
He cupped the back of her neck and molded her against him, kissing her lips, exploring every part of her body that he could reach without letting go of her, until he finally had to.
“While you were gone, I couldn’t breathe,” he said.
Dropping to his knees, he kissed his way down her stomach, his hands following the curves of her waist. He rubbed his nose against her thighs and turned her slightly so he could kiss the back of her knees. Not an inch of her body was spared by him.
And neither was his. She pushed him back against the opposite wall and slowly, oh so slowly ran her hands down his shoulders, down his arms, and then touched his chest. Licked his nipples and tongued her way to his navel.
Pulling her to her feet, he lifted her up in his arms and slid his cock along her swollen, hot flesh. Her head fell back as she moaned, and he started down the hallway again.
She pressed tiny kisses to his neck and face, traced his lips with her tongue and made his arm shoot out to brace himself against the wall just so he could take the time to make her come undone again.
Finally, they made it to her bedroom and he grabbed the box from the dresser, dumped out the contents and snatched the first one. Within a minute, he had her halfway on the bed and was pushing inside of her.
She laced their fingers together. “Mason,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me again.”
“Not a chance in hell,” he said.
He adjusted his stance and pulled her to the edge of the bed, finally sinking all the way in. Her back arched, sending her pink-tipped breasts up into the air.
“So beautiful,” he said, running a hand down the center of her chest.
Unable to hold back another second, he began to move, his strokes long and sure and deep. He wanted to take his time loving her. Wanted to give her everything he had.
She squeezed his hand tighter and spread her thig
hs wider, chanting his name. Her entire body shook as she came, as she fell apart in his arms. He shoved deep and slanted his mouth over hers, claiming her.
It was primal. It was raw.
And he would never let her out of his sight again.
While his heart began to slow, he pressed soft kisses to her temple and cheeks. Her hands ran up and down his back, her legs falling to the floor.
He had no words to give her. Nothing pretty to say that would make her melt, so he gathered her in his arms and made love to her a second time.
After she cried out his name a third time, he finally relaxed enough to fall asleep with her in his arms.
Chapter Fifteen
‡
The next morning, Mason woke up with Skylar plastered against him. She shivered in the cold as he stretched to grab the covers and wrap them up.
For once, he’d slept soundly—for short periods of time—, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d been exercising his body to death for the past week and a half, or because she’d screwed his brains out for most of the night.
Smiling in male satisfaction, he took his time wrapping her up, taking in her soft curves, full breasts, and hard nipples. Lightly kissing one, he made himself stop before he started something they couldn’t finish.
Skylar’s meager condom supply was completely depleted. By him.
“What time is it?” Skylar asked as she yawned and threw her arms over her head.
“Seven.”
“Are you always up this early?” she grumbled, pulling the covers over her head.
Laughing, he joined her, pulling her against him. Automatically, she wriggled her hot little body closer, throwing one leg up and over his thigh. “Are you always this grouchy in the morning?”
“Only before nine AM.” She burrowed her cold nose into his chest. “I’m a night owl.”
“My nightingale,” he said and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Why were you wearing only in shorts and running shoes yesterday?”
“Because I was exercising my leg in the rain, and I didn’t want to wear a soaked shirt. It’s a pet peeve of mine.”
“Duly noted.”
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