One E-mail: (BBW Romance) (One Soldier Series)

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One E-mail: (BBW Romance) (One Soldier Series) Page 5

by Lovell, Christin


  But I’d already spoken it.

  It took him a minute to see it for himself though.

  My heart seemed to crack at the edges. Sadness weighted my chest as I watched him. “I don’t know who she is, but I can assure you, I’m not her.”

  He remained solemn, stiff and still for too many seconds. My heart was suspended in my chest for too many seconds before he sighed, allowing his lips to lift wistfully at the edges despite the haunting pain in his depths. “I know.”

  I never expected my soldier to be wounded from something other than war. As a woman, I was an openly emotional being, but the men around me often weren’t, which made it easy to forget that they were just as susceptible to heartache as I was.

  But we’re all human. And seeing the extent of his hurt, even as he spoke those three words to me, knocked me. It made me appreciate him even more, love him even more. He’d taken a chance and trusted me with his heart. He didn’t punish me for the actions of another woman; he didn’t start our relationship holding her sins against me. Instead, he replied to my e-mail, and every e-mail after it. And it was one e-mail, followed by many more, that brought us here.

  I pecked his lips. “Good.”

  He further relaxed his muscles. “I’ll be right back, beautiful.” He parted with a kiss. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned a minute later with a wet cloth. He claimed my lips again as he cleaned me with the hot, damp material. “No more book boyfriends. I don’t share.”

  I laughed against him. “Didn’t we already discuss this?”

  He drew back just enough to meet my gaze. “I-”

  I shrieked as a knock sounded at the bedroom window.

  He growled, shoving away from me. He tossed the rag towards the bathroom. “Stay right there, beautiful.” He opened the second drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a handgun. He slid something loaded with bullets into the handle of it and cocked it.

  A shudder slid through me. Damn he was sexy with a gun. The way he wielded the weapon with confidence, the way his brows furrowed slightly in concentration as he readied it, the way he observed his surroundings as he prepared, did something to me. It was like seeing him in action, without the uniform and bomb threat.

  My soldier knew what he was doing. And there was something irresistibly sexy about a man like that. Undoubtedly, he could protect me in damn near any situation, and there wasn’t a more assuring comfort.

  I worked my bottom lip as I watched him stride from the room stark naked. His body moved with purpose and precision; his muscles flexed in warning with each step.

  Seconds later the front door opened and a shot was fired. In the distance I heard Tate and Trent laughing. At dinner, I’d gotten to see the two of them first hand. They were quite a duo. Tate was the louder, more boisterous, more rebellious, of them, and definitely the instigator. It appeared Trent went along with it because, well, frankly, he seemed bored, much to Linda’s dismay. Seeing first hand what Taylor dealt with growing up, I was surprised he hadn’t shot one of them by now. The man had the patience of a soldier before he ever was one.

  And if he was that patient with them, I could only imagine him with his own children. My heart and womb warmed at the thought: Taylor would be a wonderful dad some day.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Taylor

  I waited until they loaded into Trent’s truck and he started the engine before going back inside. Behind the door, I waited until I heard him drive off before I headed back to the room.

  I stopped at the sight of her, halting at the entrance to the bedroom. My chest tightened as fear flashed for a moment, seizing my breath. I held the gun lightly in my hands, weighing it between them, but it seemed to be weighing me down.

  She cocked her head, looking my way. She had no fear. In that moment, she proved that she trusted me completely to protect her.

  But my job didn’t allow me to always be there. And if anything happened to her- “I want you to learn how to shoot one of these.” I didn’t want to think about the alternative, what could happen if-

  She sat up on the bed. Her hair fell in beautiful disarray around her. Her lips were still swollen and red from my kiss. I’d branded her every way I could for now, but it wasn’t enough, and the thought of not having the chance for more shook my usually sturdy confidence.

  Understanding lit her gaze. “Okay. You can teach me tomorrow if you want.”

  I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until the air expelled in a fast whoosh from my lungs following her acceptance.

  I walked over to the nightstand and deposited the gun back in the second drawer after removing the clip. I wasn’t as tense for one moment, but I knew when we parted ways again, my gut would be a mess of knots. I don’t know when I fell for her, but somewhere between her first e-mail and seeing her luscious curves in person, I fell hard.

  I lifted the covers on my side and pulled her beneath them with me as I settled on the bed. I rolled her beneath me, catching my weight on my elbows, careful not to crush her.

  The way she looked at me cut straight to my heart.

  Her gaze was unwavering. She trusted me completely. She didn’t hold any part of herself back; she didn’t hide any part of herself from me. She unveiled it all, as if she knew I needed to see it every time. Her gape was steady, but without demand. She never asked anything of me, of anyone from what I could tell. She gave freely. She had wanted to pay for her ticket to come here, but I put my foot down.

  She was so different from the others. She confounded me, even now. She deserved so much, yet never asked. She would never ask. Which meant my military skills would be needed with her. She needed a man to assess what she needed and ensure she always had it.

  I swallowed hard. Emotion congested my chest, making it harder to breathe as I gazed down at her. I wanted to be that man.

  Her features turned down slightly. With furrowed brows and pursed lips, she lifted a single hand to my face. She brushed her fingertips along the grain of my stubble, curling her palm along my jaw. She blinked several times, squinting her eyes enough to tell me I was at least partially blurred to her. “What’s wrong?” Her voice squeezed my heart.

  The words left my lips before I could think, but once spoken, I knew I meant them. I knew I wanted it; I wanted her. Forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Madelyn

  “Marry me.”

  My heart took off, sprinting rampantly. “What?” The single word question was a croaked whisper.

  I needed to be pinched. Certainly this was a dream. Perhaps I was lost in a fictional world and Taylor really was just another book boyfriend.

  He leaned away for a moment. When he returned, he slid my glasses on me.

  I blinked as my eyes adjusted to peering through the lenses. His features became crisp, clear, as did his desire; the truth was in the depths of his eyes.

  A smile split his face. His eyes seemed to glitter even as they darkened. God, he’s gorgeous.

  He took in every detail of my face, his grin softening as he did so, turning pensive. He met my gaze, searching me. “Say you’ll marry me, Maddie.”

  My core seemed to vibrate with elation. My heart seemed to soar, leaping into the stratosphere with joy, expanding with a depth of love that could never be properly verbalized. My flesh tingled, prickled with awareness, with the need to hold him and touch him, the need to express my love for him, my acceptance of him in a way I never could from behind a computer.

  This is what I’ve been trying to envision, to evoke, to feel, every time I read about a heroine finally getting her hero. This is what every romance author describes, yet it’s so much more, more intense, more powerful, than their words ever convey, than they ever tell you it is.

  But I didn’t have to imagine anymore.

  It started with one e-mail and ended in love.

  My cheeks pressed against the bottom of my glasses as I beamed up at him. “I’ll marry you, Tay. I’ll even live a Green Acres life wi
th you.”

  He laughed, his features practically illuminating. His beauty enchanted me; he enraptured me. “The army will decide where we live for the next two years, but then we can go anywhere your little heart desires, beautiful. So long as I have you, I don’t need anything else.”

  I knew where I wanted to be. I knew the moment I stepped inside that this would be home. I’d known before he ever asked that this was where I was meant to be, with him.

  “My mom will probably have a meltdown when I tell her, she may possibly even follow me, but I want to settle here. This feels like home. And so long as I have you, it’ll always be home.”

  He dropped down beside me and hauled me into his arms. He surrounded me with his warmth as he claimed my lips. “We can accommodate her if you want.”

  I scrunched my nose. “I love my mom, but not that much.”

  He brushed my hair back. “I don’t want you to give up everyone and everything for me.”

  “It’s not for you. It’s for us.” I kissed him again. I couldn’t seem to get enough of him, of the feel of him. His touch assured me that this was real, that he was real and I wasn’t lost in a book. “Worst case scenario, maybe we could build a guesthouse for my mom, if your parents are okay with it.”

  “I own this house and the five acres around it. You can do whatever you want, beautiful.”

  I took a deep breath, easily getting lost in him again. I could stare at him for hours. He was magnificently built. Hard muscles lied beneath a soft surface sprinkled with the perfect amount of hair. I would be a little sad when he had to shave his face again. I loved the feel of his five o’clock shadow; it complimented his dark and dangerous allure, the part of him that screamed capable soldier.

  The bulk of his arms, the veins and cords that trailed through his forearms, leading to callused hands from his many days spent carrying a gun, among other gear, mesmerized me. They were the sexiest part of him, the piece of him that best symbolized his strength, his ability to protect this country…and me.

  He grazed the back of one finger along my jaw. “What’s runnin’ through that pretty little head of yours, beautiful?”

  I bit back a smile. “You.”

  He was quiet for one second too long, the only indication that he was taken aback by my response. “What about me?”

  I released my lip, allowing it to curl into a grin. “How sexy you are.”

  Like a predator stalking his prey, he drew back before he suddenly pounced, landing atop me. His gaze narrowed as he assessed me, decided exactly what he wanted to do with me.

  My body instantly responded to his commanding aura, warming with desire.

  He shifted his weight to one elbow, hovering over me. He offered no pretense before dropping his hand to test and tease my pussy. “I have to report to Fort Knox in three weeks. I don’t care where we do it, but I want my ring on your finger before I leave. I want every man to know you’re taken, and I want to know that, should anything happen to me, you’ll be taken care of.” He leaned over, opened the nightstand and grabbed another condom. “I don’t want you to worry about anything.”

  I swallowed hard. My lungs didn’t want to expand, to work right. I’d just gotten him. I’d just agreed to marry him, to make plans to officially start our lives together, and already he was talking about it ending. “I’ll always worry when you’re away, Tay, because I don’t want to lose you.”

  He worked the condom on, aligning himself at my entrance before he looked at me again, before he addressed the issue.

  I gasped, tears stinging my eyes as he shoved into me. He felt so sweet, so right. How could he talk about giving it up as though it were nothing, as though it was so easy to let go of?

  “Look at me.”

  I met his determined glare.

  Brows furrowed, jaw set, he moved inside me; he enveloped me in his arms, offering more than his words of assurance. “Whether they keep me here or send me back, I will always fight to come back to you. You’re it for me, beautiful.”

  I hugged him to me. I wrapped my legs and arms around him, clinging to him desperately. “I don’t want to let you go, Tay. I don’t know if I can even get on that plane Monday.”

  He picked up his pace, driving deeper, faster, harder into me. He shook my concentration on the issue, on the concerns of my heart. “Then don’t.” He inhaled swiftly. “Don’t leave me until you have to.”

  My pleasure was bittersweet. At some point I would have to let him go. I had to get, at the least, my computer and more clothes from home. And he, at the very least, had to leave me to report for duty. And we both had to pray that life didn’t demand more time apart than that.

  But nothing was guaranteed.

  I knew from that first e-mail that I was dealing with a soldier, someone who would never be mine entirely so long as he had a contract. I knew the risks from the start.

  But love doesn’t care about obstacles and risks. It’s consuming; it’s commanding, demanding. It requires nothing less than all of you without promise of anything in return. It latches on to you and attaches every piece of you securely to the one you love. It throws you over the cliff without a parachute, never considering the potential heartbreak that could ensue.

  The adrenaline rush of flying without wings emulates the exhilaration love evokes. It’s an explosive feeling; you never feel more alive than when you’re in love, hyperaware of every second, every joy, every single possibility.

  I was aware of every possibility, every potential happy moment in my future with Taylor.

  But I was also aware of every possibility, every potential sad moment in my future should I lose Taylor.

  He captured my lips, smothering my fears for the moment and realizing them all in the same. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. We knew. It hung between us, but it didn’t stop us.

  Love doesn’t care about obstacles and risks. It didn’t care that he was a soldier overseas or that I was a curvy woman who lived hundreds of miles from his home.

  Over and over he drove into me; he carried us further and further away from the darkness and deeper and deeper into the pretty passions of loving each other in the moment.

  Mid-thrust, he paused. His breath came in quick pants, proof he was as lost in me as I was in him. “I love you, beautiful.” He slammed home, picking up where he left off in an impossibly fast rhythm that elicited wave after wave of exquisite sensations.

  Pleasure ripped through me. I cried out as he took us to the heights of ecstasy, as he threw me over the edge, trusting that he would be there to catch me.

  Because, somehow, he was always there to catch me, to draw me into his protective arms.

  My heart pounded in a confident cadence as warmth swaddled me; his warmth, his love. “I love you, Tay.”

  Epilogue

  Madelyn

  I told him that every day that I woke up beside him. I told him that every day via e-mail when they sent him on one last, final tour. I told him that every night before and after we made love. I cried when I told him on our wedding day, two weeks after I flew to Kentucky for the first time and a week after he’d driven us down to Florida to tell my mom and pack up my belongings.

  I cried again when I told him at the hospital, upon getting my first look at him in months.

  Love doesn’t care about obstacles or risks.

  I didn’t care that I had to spend twelve days in the hospital with him. I didn’t care that I had to take him to physical therapy three times a week an hour away for a year. I didn’t care that he came back from war with shrapnel in his crushed leg, requiring surgery, metal pins and so much more. I didn’t care that he would have scars on his leg forever or that he would walk with a slight limp. He survived being trapped under pieces of a bombed building for hours; he kept his promise to always fight to return to me.

  Love doesn’t care about obstacles or risks. Instead, it uses them, it wields them in an effort to strengthen your bond, to showcase its power, for, if you truly love some
one, no obstacle or risk will ever destroy it.

  The Army, the leg injury that cut his final tour short, three rambunctious children, a mom who never seemed to leave despite living next door, and two brother-in-laws who got a cheap thrill out of causing trouble never came between us.

  Love doesn’t care about obstacles or risks, but, in the end, I lost nothing, and gained everything.

  I started an erotic book club in Kentucky; Linda was the first one to join, and, surprisingly, it wasn’t that awkward. I eventually discovered a decent homemade iced coffee recipe. Nothing could replace my beloved Starbucks, but I loved Taylor more than I loved my coffee. I continued my blog, and it eventually became my sole source of income, though, admittedly, I didn’t have to make that much, and, with the wonder of online shopping, I was able to shop at all my favorite stores still, despite being a good fifty miles from the closest brick and mortar location.

  I made many new friends, created many new memories, and lived out the rest of my days happily in love with my soldier.

  Who knew one e-mail could lead to a lifetime of love and happiness?

  Love isn’t easy, but commitment is. Taylor and I committed to loving through the obstacles and risks, through the meddling family members, through the distraction of children, through the good times and bad, through anything that had the potential to pull us apart. We loved our way through it, one e-mail, one day, and sometimes, one minute at a time.

  But it was worth it. My sexy soldier was worth it, as the right person, soul mate even perhaps, always will be.

  Final Orlando Book Club Soldier Letter Update:

  Sandra dated the second soldier she contacted for two years, but, in the end, she couldn’t handle that her relationship was long distance ninety-percent of the time.

  Amber did meet her soldier when he returned stateside, but you can’t start a fire when there isn’t a spark. They did become good friends though and still talk to this day.

  To all of our shock and surprise, Lucy did have a threesome with her soldier and his wife. It was a one-time thing, an experience she said she’ll never forget but will also never do again. I guess they aren’t all as amazing as fiction makes them out to be.

 

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