When his head pulled back so he was looking at her again, his eyes were dark. In the early morning light, the sun’s rays brushed golden highlights over his hair and emphasized each ridge of scarring over his magnificent body.
Her blooded warrior.
Oh, how she loved him.
“No, baby.” A large rough hand cupped the side of her cheek gently. “For you. For choosing me. For what you’ve given me.” His eyebrows lowered. “Hope,” he finished simply.
Tears pricked her eyes and she did nothing to staunch their flow while they freely rolled down both her cheeks. He curled around her, his massive body wrapping her in a protective cocoon. Silence cradled them both, their souls seeming to communicate what words would only cheapen.
Allie breathed in his warm skin. And she knew that she was his.
“Allie?” he whispered.
“What, Matthew?”
“These last few days”—he paused—“having you here.”
“Yeah?” Her voice was strung tight with nervous tension.
“It’s been . . . nice”— he cringed —“well, more than nice, okay,” a dark, velvety chuckle trilled over her. Was he nervous? “More like fantastic,” he amended at last and dropped a brief kiss on her lips. “You know I’m a mess, but, ah . . . it’s been better having you around. And, I know I go out of town a lot, but, I thought, maybe we should keep this whole sleeping arrangement long term. You should move in.”
She was struck speechless.
When she just blinked up at him a rough hand jerked his hair away from his forehead. “Damn it, this was not the right time to bring this up. I mean, shit, with your mom’s, ah . . . well, this was a bad day—”
She cut him off, “Yes, Matthew. I’ll move in with you.” She couldn’t believe it! The tears were back again. “Of course, yes. I love you so much. Yes. Absolutely.”
A mega-watt smile crept out onto his face for just a moment. Just long enough to give Allie a glimpse of the Matthew who’d lived before he’d gone through hell and back. She’d do anything to have that smile a part of him more often, to become as natural as getting up in the morning. She knew he’d seen too much and done too much to ever be considered lighthearted maybe, but she’d do her best to make these moments become more and more common for him.
“Allie?”
She jumped, brought back to the present where she stood to the side of her mom’s coffin in the small funeral parlor. Matthew’s hand gripped her shoulder. He eyed her warily, assessing the redness of her eyes and nose for any sign of impending tears. “People are starting to get here. Heard them drive up. You’re going to be alright?”
She nodded again and pulled her shoulders back a little. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
***
The next two hours passed in a kind of haze. Allie spent the time hugging, comforting the other grievers, listening to them rehash stories of her mom, and ensuring everyone there that, yes, she was doing alright. Matthew standing silently beside her was a relief. His scary demeanor kept condolences short and embraces brief.
Everyone, it seemed, had shown up. Lainie, Jason, Jennifer, and the rest of the crew. Old neighbors and school teachers. Friends and family Allie hadn’t seen for years, and some cousins she’d never even met. Even one of Allie’s professors had come, just to offer their sympathy. She’d been touched, but not surprised to see that Adam’s dad, Roy, had flown all the way down from California.
The whole time, though, Allie kept an eye out for Matthew’s family.
When would she see them; and would she recognize them as Matthew’s?
Once the viewing drew to a close they drove to the local cemetery for a small, graveside service.
When it was all over Allie just stood there, rooted to the new, budding summer grass, looking over Mary’s glossy, cherry wood casket and the mound of flowers that heaped up on its lid, not really seeing any of it. Her mom’s final words gave her a peace inside that she was now heading down the right path for her life.
Matthew stiffened next to her. “Excuse me, baby, for just a minute.”
She followed his gaze to a copse of trees. A tall, grey-haired man, who could have been an aged replica to the pictures Allie had seen of Jayce, stood beside a curvy woman with a flame of dark red hair that curled up off her shoulders, and a statuesque blonde sporting the kind of figure you’d only see inside the high-gloss pages of a fashion magazine.
Matthew’s family.
She watched Matthew walk toward them, his shoulders a tight bunch beneath his suit jacket.
When she started to follow, a set of dark fingers curled lightly around her elbow made her stop.
“He loves you a lot, huh, Allie?”
She looked up into Adam’s face and blinked with surprise. “Excuse me?”
Adam turned, his gaze following after Matthew. “Your boy.” Adam’s chin jerked toward him. “Pretty obvious.” When he looked back at her he shook his head while a sad little smile plucked up the corner of his mouth. “You done good, Allie. He treats you well. I can see that now.”
Allie felt her heart warm. “Oh, Adam.” She wrapped an arm around his waist. This must be a hard thing for him to say. “I know.” She turned wide eyes on him. “I love him, too.”
Adam dropped her gaze while scrubbing his hand over the back of his head. “Yeah. I know.” He swallowed. “You deserve to have some happiness.”
She pulled him in for a hug, her arms wrapping around his waist. “Thanks, Adam.”
He dropped his chin to her shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”
Her gaze went back to Matthew. “Yeah . . . I am.” And she knew she would be, too. This last week had been hell. A shock that tore through everything she’d known and lived for so long. Her mom was gone now and that was the final piece to have fallen. But truthfully, the life she’d had before had ceased months before—back when she’d met Matthew.
Today her heart was breaking. But through the remains of her tattered life were the starts of a new beginning. And as a seed breaks through the earth to rise and meet the sun, so too would love, nourished with hope and tending, spring up from the pieces of her broken heart.
Adam said goodbye and walked back to where his dad sat in one of the graveside folding chairs, while Allie walked toward that small grouping of trees.
When she got closer, her feet froze her in place and she fidgeted with her dress. She didn’t want to intrude. Felt like an interloper just watching their reunion from this far away.
Matthew stood, tall as his father, and went to shake his hand. When his dad pulled him in for a hard embrace, she watched Matthew’s proud shoulders start to shake. His mom was there, and his sister, too, their arms curling around the son and brother who’d been lost to them for so long. His family, at last was reunited.
The wind was soft outside and brought the smell of roses and carnations on its tendrils. Matthew was once again where he needed to be. Home, surrounded by those who loved him, his heart opened at last to the long path of recovery.
He looked up at Allie when his mom turned curious eyes in her direction. Green eyes, mossy like Matthew’s.
He turned briefly away to run a palm over his face before he began to walk back toward Allie. When his feet were stopped in front of her, and they were once again face-to-face, an unfathomable look swirled beneath the surface of his eyes.
Took her a moment to figure out what that look was about.
Peace, she finally realized.
Her warrior was finally at peace.
Two hands cupped the sides of her face and he pressed a soft, smoldering kiss to her lips.
“Allie,” he rasped. “I’d like you to meet my family.”
Epilogue
Ten months later
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Matthew.” Allie shook her head as she fished a pair of strappy, black flats out of one of their massive suitcases. She thought military men were supposed to be intricate packers. After fumbling around blindly for a few moments, her fin
ger finally wrapped around the strap she’d been looking for.
It was weird staying at Matthew’s parent’s house.
His mom and dad had been begging them to come for months, since they’d first met Allie. And now, with everything new going on, Allie figured it was high time they took a trip up to Chicago at last. Serendipity seemed to intervene so that Matthew and she had a simultaneous break from school and work, and so they figured they’d better jump on the opportunity before things progressed much further.
Both Matthew’s parents were unbelievably kind and accepting of Allie into Matthew’s life. Allie had been terrified, so certain she’d never be able to measure up to the high standard of being Matthew’s girlfriend. But, all his parents had shown her was an overwhelming abundance of kindness. She’d spoken on the phone with Catleen a few times now, and each time she did, she’d been set back by how soft-spoken the woman was for having survived two hell-raising boys.
Greg, Matthew’s dad, she’d only talked to at her mom’s funeral that first time; and yet he’d been more than gracious. She was looking forward to getting to know him a little better while they were here.
And then there was Desiree.
Supermodel beautiful, and cold as ice, she intimidated the ever-loving heck out of Allie, if she were being honest with herself. But Desiree was Matthew’s sister and so someone worth trying with. Hopefully in time, the room would cease to frost over whenever Desiree made an entrance. Allie had a hard enough time trying to talk to her without worrying about her tongue freezing to the roof of her mouth.
Having found the shoe she’d been looking for at last, Allie hefted herself out of the closet, already feeling the weight of her blossoming belly in her back.
Seven months pregnant.
Wow.
She stood up, brushed down the front of her black skirt, and smoothed her shirt over the little stowaway inside. When she got a tiny ninja kick to the hipbone a smile curved her lips upward.
As she stood there, a pair of dark navy-clad arms snaked around her belly, surrounding her in warmth and spicy aftershave. Her smile only grew wider. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of everything she cherished surrounding her, inside and out.
This moment, right here, Allie was pretty certain could be a taste of pure heaven.
“Found it.” She turned in Matthew’s arms to show off the rescued shoe.
And stopped dead.
“Holy Moley.” Her mouth went instantly dry. “W.O.W.” She stared up at Matthew in awe. He was wearing full Naval Dress Uniform. Deep, deep blue, with the neckline rimed in a white triangle of three cords of piping, with a long, hanging necktie at its center. Dress pants and black shoes. Matching white sailor’s cap. A golden Budweiser trident pinned above the breast where rank patches sat. The line of the suit accented a set of wide shoulders and a narrow waist.
She’d never seen him wear the whole shebang before.
Damn, he looked sexy.
“You like?” One ruddy eyebrow arched as a Lothario smile arched over full lips, suggesting he knew exactly how good he looked.
“Mmmm, hmmm.” Her tongue darted out over her bottom lip as she contemplated how fast she could get him naked and on his back.
Side effect of pregnancy: she was always horny.
Seeming to follow her train of thought, his smile cocked up to the side and his hand brushed down the side of his suit. “Uniform’s been dropping panties since seventeen-seventy-five, baby.”
Her hand flashed out to his chest. “Uniform better only be dropping my panties.”
He scooped up her fingers and used them to pull her into him. When he looked down at her growing body he shook his head. “If I would have known how big your boobs would get, I’d have knocked you up sooner.”
Allie snorted. “Men.”
He then repeated the same custom he’d made a habit of doing anytime he came into the room with her: dropping to his haunches and pressing his cheek against her belly. “Hey there, princess. Givin' your mom hell today?”
“Heck,” Allie corrected in a faux-stern voice.
Green eyes rolled up to hers. “Shit. Yeah. No swearing around the kid.”
Allie laughed and shook her head. The no-swearing rule was probably going to be an uphill battle, but Violet wasn’t due for a few more months, so they had time to work on it.
Matthew got lightly to his feet. Oh, it just wasn’t fair, how easily he could move.
His hand slid into hers. “Ready to go?”
She nodded. “Think so. You feel okay about this?”
His mouth firmed into a determined line. “Yes.”
She sighed. “Alright. We’d better take off. The baby-slash-bridal shower is at six, and I’m pretty sure Stacy will skin me alive if we’re late.”
Matthew caught her twirling her new engagement ring around her finger and picked her hand up to admire it. “I think you’ve got a new nervous tick.”
Allie dropped her eyes to her hand. The ring was an antique; a simple solitaire set in a silver band with delicate floral detailing up its sides. She absolutely loved it; but not being a big jewelry girl, it was weird having something on her finger all the time. “I’m just not used to it yet, I guess.”
“Well, I couldn’t knock you up and not make an honest woman out of you, could I?” A truth he’d been reminding her of for the last month, since he’d proposed. He’d been all glowing male pride since that pregnancy test had turned positive. If she had to hear about the potency of a seaman’s semen—no matter the birth control—one more time, she was seriously going to throw a shoe at his head. “Besides,” he added. “Now you’re all mine. Bought and paid for.”
Before she could smack him, he secured her hand in the crook of his arm and towed her toward the bedroom door. “Come on, baby.” He leaned down to kiss the back of her neck. “Let’s go.”
***
The Abraham Lincoln National Cemetery was bracingly cold this time of year. Winter still clung to the air and kicked up frigid little drafts around her shoulders to tangle in her hair. The grass was crisp with frost and crunched beneath each step as they wove between tombstones. She tugged her coat tighter around herself and pulled some of the icy air down into her lungs.
Matthew’s arm was around her waist, leading her in the right direction, but all of their earlier joking had vanished now under the weight of where they were going. His profile was composed of a hard jaw and dark eyes, the late afternoon sun casting shadows over his brow and turning his expression into granite as hard as the sculptures around them.
Ahead, their destination was a small, flat stone, set nearly at the end of its section, just in front of a hedge of evergreens and coated with the remains of last night’s snow fall. The gravestone was a simple construction with a post where a small American flag stood at attention. A cross was engraved in the upper center of the stone, while below it, it read:
Jayce Greggory Lynch
E6 SEAL
Afghanistan KIA
SS V
Too well loved
To ever be forgotten
As they stood there, reading the inscription, Allie saw a lone tear roll down the sharp edge of Matthew’s face. Knowing he would want to keep his dignity, Allie set a small arrangement of silk flowers at the base of the stone. Cold fingers squeezed his gloved ones and she whispered, “I’ll give you a moment,” and backed a few yards away to wait.
Standing with his spine tall and his shoulders back, looking ever the proud warrior he was, Matthew simply stared down at Jayce’s grave for five long minutes.
Finally, his hands went to his chest and unclipped the golden Budweiser trident. He stepped up to Jay’s grave and gently placed it over the stone’s center. As Matthew rose, his hand came up into a crisp salute.
Allie’s throat thickened with emotion as she then listened to Matthew’s deep, strong voice repeat his warrior’s creed:
“In times of war or uncertainty there is a special breed of warrior ready to an
swer our Nation’s call. A common man with uncommon desire to succeed.
“Forged by adversity, he stands alongside America’s finest special operations forces to serve his country, the American people, and protect their way of life.
“I am that man.
“My Trident is a symbol of honor and heritage. Bestowed upon me by the heroes that have gone before, it embodies the trust of those I have sworn to protect. By wearing the Trident I accept the responsibility of my chosen profession and way of life. It is a privilege that I must earn every day.
“My loyalty to Country and Team is beyond reproach. I humbly serve as a guardian to my fellow Americans always ready to defend those who are unable to defend themselves. I do not advertise the nature of my work, nor seek recognition for my actions. I voluntarily accept the inherent hazards of my profession, placing the welfare and security of others before my own.
“I serve with honor on and off the battlefield. The ability to control my emotions and my actions, regardless of circumstance, sets me apart from other men.
“Uncompromising integrity is my standard. My character and honor are steadfast. My word is my bond.
“We expect to lead and be led. In the absence of orders I will take charge, lead my teammates and accomplish the mission. I lead by example in all situations.
“I will never quit. I persevere and thrive on adversity. My Nation expects me to be physically harder and mentally stronger than my enemies. If knocked down, I will get back up, every time. I will draw on every remaining ounce of strength to protect my teammates and to accomplish our mission. I am never out of the fight.
“We demand discipline. We expect innovation. The lives of my teammates and the success of our mission depend on me – my technical skill, tactical proficiency, and attention to detail. My training is never complete.
“We train for war and fight to win. I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power to bear in order to achieve my mission and the goals established by my country. The execution of my duties will be swift and violent when required yet guided by the very principles that I serve to defend.
Captured at Nightfall (Capture My Heart Love Story) Page 26