Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story)

by Rasmussen, Kitrisha

  “You’re so damn sexy. I love your ass.”

  She turned, pulled him up to her, and slanted her mouth hard over his.

  She gave him one more lingering kiss before capturing his wrists in her own small hands. “Can I do you now?”

  His mouth tightened. “Okay,” he conceded slowly.

  She snatched away the soap before he could change his mind and rubbed it between her hands until she had a good lather going. Then she put the soap in the wall holder and settled her hands over his belly. It was like touching living stone. His stomach moved in and out with his breath, but the muscles were hard beneath soft skin, made red from the heat of the water and their coupling. She traced little circles across the ridges of his abdomen, down to the side of his hip, where her finger brushed over a grouping of tiny scars. They’d been all-but invisible to the eye, but were easy to find by touch.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  He tensed, jaw flexed and his face darkened. “Shot gun,” he finally muttered.

  Allie felt the blood leave her face. Her fingers spread wide and, still, she was barely able to cover the circumference of scars. They were a cluster of tiny dots, kind of like pebbles over his skin.

  “Oh, Matthew.”

  “Went into a building and got ambushed by some asshat hiding beneath a desk.”

  “Where was this?”

  “Chechnya.”

  She shook her head, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. What kind of life had this man lead?

  “You’ve been all around the world?”

  His jaw jumped again. This was obviously an uncomfortable topic. Or maybe he couldn’t talk about it. Cripes, what if he wasn’t allowed to say anything about his missions—or tours—or whatever the heck you were supposed to call them—and she pried too much? Was someone going to surprise her, put a bag over her head in the middle of the night and haul her off to some Federal prison?

  Matthew was back to smirking now.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

  “I’m not going to be in trouble for asking you questions about this stuff, am I?”

  He barked his laughter, eyes shining. “It’s the whole ‘I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you’ line, huh? Allie”—he shook his head—“you’ve watched too many spy movies. If I can’t tell you something, I just won’t tell you. It’s fine, baby.”

  Well, put that way, she felt a little stupid. “Okay.”

  Her hands roamed over his body in search of more battle scars. Remembering the bumps on his shoulders, she moved there. “How about these ones here?” He had four circles at the front and back of his shoulder that were about the size of a dime.

  “South of Thailand. Muslim insurgency came out of the woodwork just as we were unloading from the Chinook. Bastards got me twice, but at least they were clean shots. Went right through without splintering.” He tapped, first the back dot on his shoulder, and then the front, “In and out.”

  “Holy hell.” She eyed him in speculation. How could he talk so casually about this stuff? Allie would be freaking out, probably turn agoraphobic, and hide in a dark corner somewhere.

  Shaking her head while continuing her search, her thumb brushed over a large pucker at the base of his left shoulder. “What about this one?”

  “Libya, two years ago. Close one, too. About bled out before they got me stabilized enough for transport.”

  A long crest-shaped scar over his lower back now. “And this one?”

  “Shrapnel.”

  Around the side, just below his ribs: a three-inch line. “How about this?”

  The corners of his lips lifted. “Bar in Chicago. Some idiot picked a fight, trying to act a man by taking out the military guy. Beat the shit out of him in the bar, but he caught me as I was leaving with a knife”—Matthew curled his lip—“Pussy.”

  “What about this one?” A thin line circled around the base of his throat.

  A look of pain flashed through his eyes before he could mask it.

  “No more talk,” his voice was hoarse. “Back to bed, woman. Now.”

  Without any further explanation, Matthew picked her up, both of them sopping wet and wearing nothing but their birthday suits as he hauled her back to Allie’s room.

  The tell-tale click of a door opening preceded Lainie’s startled expression. Allie caught it over Matthew’s shoulder just before he kicked her bedroom door shut and then dumped her on her bed. Allie couldn’t stop the rush of giggles that bubbled out between her lips. Lainie had, no doubt, just gotten a good eye-full of Matthew’s perfect ass.

  Chapter thirteen

  They lay in bed, watching the first trickles of grey filter in through the window. Had they really been up and at it all night?

  Matthew’s hands were everywhere: in her hair, trailing over her arms, breasts, and shoulders. . . His body was warm and comfortable spooned against her while his nose stayed buried in the crook at the back of her neck.

  So peaceful.

  Allie wished the spell they’d woven that night could last and last. Wished she could wind the memories through her fingers like gossamer thread, tie both her and Matthew to this spot forever.

  “I love this,” he mumbled between the kisses he’d begun pressing over her shoulder blade.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” Her lips pulled up as she rolled over to face him. She was met by serious green eyes and a solemn expression she would have thought better suited for a funeral parlor.

  Unable to stand letting that look cut away any part of their serenity, she placed two fingers between his brows and smoothed out the wrinkle of skin. “What’s wrong?”

  His frown deepened before he finally shook himself. He pulled Allie up onto his chest and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Nothing . . . I . . . it’s hard to explain. You make all the shit go away for me. It’s like . . . things are so simple when I’m with you. In you. It’s heaven.”

  Splayed out across Matthew’s chest as she was, Allie took the opportunity to explore his chest. Her fingers swirled around one peck to its center where the SEAL tattoo was, then she moved up to the scars on his shoulders. Mouth tight, she looked again at the thin line around his throat while her curiosity burned. Why had he shied away from explaining this one when he obviously hadn’t minded sharing about the others?

  Diversion-by-sex had been obvious.

  Her fingers wandered back to his tattoo. “Did you really like being a SEAL?” As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them.

  As if a cloud had settled over his expression, Matthew’s gaze turned dark and stormy. He focused that gaze on her as he rasped, “They were the best years of my existence.”

  “But, you’re done?”

  “When my time was up a few months ago I didn’t sign on again.” He turned his face away to hide the pain that flashed through his eyes.

  Allie’s teeth began to worry her bottom lip. There was obviously much more to the story, but she could tell Matthew would shut down and possibly leave if she tried to pry.

  But, how to breach her next question? “So . . . you don’t mind war? Killing, I mean.”

  He didn’t even hesitate. “No.” His mouth tightened. “I’m a killer, Allie. A warrior and a good one.” He sighed. “It’s hard to put into words. Not like I enjoyed the killing part, more like I loved the rush of battle. Gets your adrenaline pumping like nothing else on earth.

  “Kicking ass. Saving the day, you know. Despite what some granola head might try to sell you, every person I killed deserved to die. They were actively trying to kill me and my brothers. I’ve never seen evil personified before I went on tour, but any asshole that could use women and children like some of those bastards I cut down did, deserved a lot more than a bullet between the eyes. Way I saw it: I was ridding the world of evil one shithead at a time. No regrets.”

  Allie knew she should probably feel sick by such a seemingly-calloused admission. Taking a life, no matter who i
t belonged to, should be done with difficulty in her mind. But then, Allie hadn’t been in war. She didn’t want to even try to imagine the ugliness Matthew had seen.

  She knew she was a sissy, and wasn’t embarrassed to stay in that category. Heck, she couldn’t even stomp on a bug—preferred to suck them up with a vacuum and pretend they just disappeared.

  But Matthew was in a whole other galaxy.

  Somehow, she got it, though. A warrior, ridding the world of evil?

  He really was a romantic.

  Matthew’s thumb and forefinger settled on her chin and pulled her face up so she was looking at him. “Does it bother you?”

  She didn’t know.

  Death. Taking the life from another human being? Everything she’d been taught suggested murder. But having Matthew here with her, feeling his heart’s rhythm pound beneath her fingertips. And then trying to imagine the situations he’d been in when he’d taken those lives. It was absolutely unfathomable.

  “Honestly, I’m just grateful you got them before they got you.”

  Matthew seemed to relax.

  Now that he wasn’t trying to push her away anymore, she realized he’d been worried about how she’d react.

  They lounged in bed for another hour or so until the horizon had turned from bleak shades of gray to the warm pinks and golds that caressed the wispy bottoms of white clouds.

  Arizona sunrises.

  Could she ever get enough of them?

  Matthew rolled on top of her, hands clasping her wrists. He was hot from being beneath the covers, still deliciously naked and skin to skin, blazing over every inch of her. He pinned her to the mattress with his hips while his head dipped down and he kissed her, soft and sweet.

  He was saying goodbye, damn it.

  Oh, how she wanted him to stay.

  The little world they’d created was already beginning to deteriorate as worry and responsibility tore at it with sharp little claws. School. Homework. Her mom—she still had to drop by the Social Security office and fill out that new paperwork.

  Damn it. It was already happening.

  Hands still bound, Allie wrapped her legs around Matthew’s waist. “I don’t want you to go,” she whimpered.

  His head cocked to the side, his gaze intense as his lips thinned. Finally his mouth cracked into a sad little smile. “I know, baby. But, I have to.”

  He rolled off her, leaving her bereft and cold, and tucked her tightly beneath the sheets; kind of made her feel like a little kid, but it was tender all the same.

  As he bent to retrieve his clothes and started pulling them on he said, “I’m going to be out of town for a little while. Work”—there was a pause, and then—“Dunno how long.”

  Allie sat up as he turned to face her and she gave him too-wide eyes. Why did she suddenly feel so sad?

  His face softened and his thumb brushed the side of her cheek. “I’ll call when I can.”

  She swallowed a bubble of fear. “Will you be in danger?”

  He took in what must have been her expression of terror, because seconds later he was sitting beside her.

  “Allie, this is my life. There’s always some risk involved. I can’t really go into detail about it, but I’ll be fine. Glorified babysitting, really.” He pressed his lips once more to hers and then to her forehead.

  “Damn, I’m gonna miss you, baby.” He shook his head.

  And then he was gone, just as suddenly as he’d appeared.

  Allie tossed the covers back from her legs and ran to her bedroom door. When she opened it, there was no sign of Matthew. Blasted ghost that he was, she didn’t even hear the front door click open and shut.

  Allie froze when Lainie poked her head out of her bedroom. Must have heard Allie get up, damn it all to hell.

  Oh, boy. The look Lainie slathered on oozed smugness.

  “Matthew stayed over,” Allie explained dumbly.

  “No kidding, huh?” Lainie was all teeth and radiating glee.

  Allie wasn’t a bit surprised when Lainie walked through the front door later that evening with a hot cherry pie to celebrate Allie’s official deflowering.

  Gaah.

  Chapter fourteen

  Two weeks of silence flowed over Allie with nothing from Matthew.

  Two whole, freaking weeks!

  In which time, Allie had managed to go through a whole gauntlet of emotions, pathetically checking and double-checking her cell. He’d told her he’d call if he could; but damn it, the silence was deafening.

  She’d been a worried mess. A jagged little lump of fear settled in her stomach, needling her all through classes, work, and looking in on her mom. She’d attempted a night of clubbing with Lainie, but when she kept seeing the glint of bronze hair around every corner, she’d called it an early night and gone home to give in to her misery.

  Yes, damn it all.

  She was miserable without him.

  It was ridiculous. She hardly knew the man and already he’d consumed every nuance of her thoughts. Even a late night affair with Gerard Butler on the boob tube couldn’t hope to push him from her mind. Once that first week had finally clawed into the past, Allie’s thoughts had turned a darker corner. She worried he’d just been trying to get out of her house without setting up parameters for any kind of relationship. Maybe he figured he could tell her he’d be gone, and then, when the weeks passed by and he didn’t call . . .

  Hoping she’d lose interest?

  Seriously?

  The passive aggressive roll fit into Matthew’s DNA about as well as a polar bear in a string bikini. If he were in the “one and done” kinda mindset he would’ve just thanked her for the lay and hit pavement. Besides, Matthew had told her he wanted to try; Allie had to believe that if he said he wanted to be with her, he would. She had to push her stupidly insecure emotions aside and take his words for what they were.

  But, damn if the waiting wasn’t killing her—a little more every day. That ball of anxiety and fear seemed to grow heavier and more jagged by the hour.

  And then she flipped on one of the national news channels and everything was tossed right on its head:

  She’d been studying for midterms, her brains fried to extra crispy, and needed some background noise to chill her out. MTV would have been a better choice, but the TV had popped up on channel twenty-five with one of the news chicks clucking on and on about some peace summit or something at the White House earlier in the week. When the video coverage panned over an impressive gathering of the world’s leaders Allie jumped to her feet like a cat on crack while books and papers flew everywhere.

  “Lainie! Get in here, now!” Allie’s fingers fumbled for the pause button on her DVR remote while the thud of feet on carpet pounded down the hall.

  Lainie bounded into the room mid-facial—in all her Swamp Thing glory—a tiger-striped robe wrapped around herself. Eyebrows arched through the green sludge on her forehead, causing little pink fissures of skin to appear. “What’s wrong?”

  Allie did a double blink as she took in Lainie’s appearance before she pulled her thoughts back into focus and again on the TV. She quickly rewound to the spot where the baby-blue striped robes of the Israeli leaders were again on screen, right next to the President of the United States. Off to the side and dressed to fade into the background stood the unmistakably powerful figure of Matthew.

  “Holy turtle shit, Batman! It’s the merc!” Hitting Allie with wide eyes, Lainie thudded to her knees so that now, she too was kneeling inches from the TV. “That’s some pretty heavy duty babysitting,” she added while her head shook in disbelief.

  “Guess I know where he’s been now.” Allie’s words tumbled through cold lips. She was suddenly sick seeing him there, in a whole other world, it seemed.

  Lainie batted her shoulder with a playful hand. “Dude, Allie, why are you acting all broke up? This is a good thing. He was telling the truth! At least now you know he hasn’t just been off boinking some other chick.”

  “Y
eah.” Allie sucked in a breath, pulled herself together, and then forced her teeth into a smile.

  Lainie didn’t seem to notice Allie was on the verge of cracking, or maybe she’d just gotten used to her mood swings by now. As Allie looked back at the picture of Matthew in the shadows, she felt her heart leap into her throat.

  Crap, she thought. This was not good. She was too attached, too fast.

  Had it been the intimacy of the mind-blowing night they’d shared that was setting her emotional climate into a hailstorm; or was this something more—deeper than the flesh?

  Crap again!

  If she had to ask herself that, she already knew she was in way too deep.

  Matthew had become the very air and Allie was dying every day that he was gone. How in the hell would this ever work? How would she cope long-term if his job had him constantly popping in and out of the picture? She’d be destroyed if she wasn’t careful. And the scariest question of all: did she even care?

  Allie wasn’t one to jump headfirst into anything, but somehow Matthew had managed to strip all her inhibitions away, leave her quivering and exposed, willing and stupidly apathetic to whatever consequences would follow.

  Damn; damn; damn it all to hell!

  Damn Matthew and damn the carnage lurking down this road that would undoubtedly lead her into heartbreak.

  It would most definitely damn her in the end.

  Allie didn’t know how, maybe she pinched her, but somehow Lainie was able to draw her attention. “You wanna go out and celebrate? I’ll call the crew and we can meet at Vortex at nine.”

  Allie swallowed a bitter grimace. Clubbing with the crew again? Yuck.

  “Err,” Allie began, “I was planning on going down to see mom tonight.” She knew it was an effective fib, and not totally untrue. Allie had been planning on going to see her, just not this afternoon. “Mom had a bunch of tests today with the neurologist and I wanted to see how she did.”