Fuck, she was right. I had given her plenty of reasons to doubt me, to believe that I’d leave her for duty and career. That had to end. And I’d already figured the perfect way to prove my love to her.
I stepped up close again and took both her hands. “I would’ve been floating along without you, Chanel. I would’ve been nothing but a shell of the man I wanted to be. Hollow on the inside. You made me whole.”
She gulped, squeezed my hands. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I’m not just saying that.” I kissed her forehead, then focused on her again. “I love you with everything I have. You’ve changed me, even though I was too damn stubborn to admit it, even to myself. If I can’t have you, I don’t want to have anything at all.”
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. One spilled onto her cheek and I leaned in and kissed it with my lips, tasting her salty release.
“I want to be the man that makes you happy,” I said. “And I want you to be able to trust that I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Chanel.” My heart thudded in my chest. I lowered myself to one knee in front of her. “Will you be my wife?”
She shuddered a gasp and swayed on the spot. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I said. “I know I don’t have a ring, right now, but once I’ve moved I’ll buy one, and the minute you’re in Hawaii I’ll put it on your finger. I can’t picture another minute without you in my life. The past two weeks have been Hell for me. I want nothing more than to be with you. To be your man. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, I will.” She dragged me up from the carpet and threw her arms around my neck, peppering my face with kisses. “Yes. Forever. Yes!”
Elation bubbled through me and dissolved the fear, chipping away at the already cracked wall inside my soul.
I lifted her in my arms and kissed her, another soul-searing embrace, then walked her over to the bed. “My fiancé,” I said.
“I love you,” she replied.
We fell onto the bed together, giggling, and her half-weeping from the joy of it all. Tomorrow I’d leave, but next month, next year, forever? Chanel and I would be one. And that was all that mattered to me.
Epilogue
Chanel
We didn’t get to spend too much time on Hawaii’s white sand beaches together, but today was the exception. Today was our day, and Paula’s too, though she was only interested in sunbathing at the moment, with the soft lap of waves on the shore for company.
I didn’t blame her. She got less holiday than Ryan did, and I loved it that my friend had come out to spend time with me the minute she got the chance.
“You’re smiling,” Ryan said, and squeezed my hand.
I dug my bare toes into the warm sand. “I’ve been smiling ever since I moved here,” I said. “I get to be with you, Ryan. Why wouldn’t I smile?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve heard so many rumors about women freaking out during this process.” He looked out over the ocean blue, and smiled himself.
A soft breeze tangled my hair and I rested my head against his shoulder. “What process? The moving is done. Living on post is pretty much a blast,” I said. Though, some of the other wives could be a little nosy at times.
I’d already been commissioned to spruce up the insides of quite a few of the homes. The women on Oahu loved my style and pictures of my portfolio had pretty much gone viral – if it could be called that – on the Hawaii Military Wives Facebook page.
I had business coming out of my ears if I wanted it, and more from the Navy itself. Everything had gone well so far, but my insides clenched with nerves. Not cold feet. No, this was something else entirely.
“Ryan?” I tugged on his arm and he turned back to me again.
He kissed my forehead, then raised my left hand in his and tapped the engagement ring on my finger. “This process. Preparing for the wedding.”
“Oh, that? No, I’m fine with that. I didn’t want anything huge, anyway,” I said. “And I’ve got my little helper to put to work when the time is right.” I nodded to Paula, who’d taken up residence on a beach chair under a floral umbrella.
“If you can drag her away,” Ryan replied, laughing.
“Hmm, that might be a challenge. But she’s so excited for the wedding,” I said. “Are you sure it’s not too soon? I don’t want to make you feel pressured.”
“Make me feel pressured?” Ryan laughed. “Chanel, I was the one who asked you, remember? The sooner we get married, the happier I’ll be. Trust me, this can’t come quickly enough.” He lowered his voice and drew me close, gaze hot, now. “I can’t wait to make love to you once you’re Mrs. Baker. Officially my wife. Mine for the rest of our lives.”
“I can’t wait either,” I breathed, and brushed my lips over his.
He pulled me tight to his chest and deepened the kiss. His fingers tangled in my hair, and his heart beat against mine. God, every minute with him was precious. Every second. He hadn’t been deployed yet, but that day would eventually come and I would have to get used to it.
We broke apart and I ran my hands up his torso, bringing them to rest on his broad shoulders. “Only two weeks. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I’ll be Mrs. Baker.” I sighed. “I feel like it’s impossible that I’m this happy.”
“It’s not. I’m this happy too,” Ryan replied, and grinned at me. Every day we spent together saw him lose his inhibitions. At first, it’d started with stories about his time out in the sands, then progressed to him telling jokes, laughing, letting go of all the formal ticks he had back in Meek Springs.
The glimpses of the man I’d seen underneath the façade, the one I’d fallen for, had come into full view. Vistas of Ryan Baker, and now with me included.
Finally, he could relax and I could talk to him about everything we’d held back from each other. The connection we had had only strengthened over time.
“I have a question,” Ryan said, and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Shoot.”
“You’ve been acting differently the last few days. Is there any particular reason for that? Cold feet?”
“What?!” I blinked at him. “Of course not. I want to marry you more than I want anything.”
“Okay,’ he said, but the uncertainty remained. “You’ve just seemed a little distant. And you’ve been spending a lot of time in the bathroom.”
“I like long bubble baths,” I said, but I couldn’t hide the blush that crept up my throat. A patchwork which exposed my lie. I’d wanted to wait longer than this before telling him the truth. I’d figured it could wait until after the wedding or… gawd, I didn’t have any real plan here.
“Okay, now I know something’s up.” He took a step back and tilted his head to the side, a frown wrinkling his brow. “What’s going on?”
“I – I didn’t want it to come out like this,” I said, and looked around.
The white sandy beach was backed by a row of palm trees behind us, and the ocean in front. It was peaceful, though a cabana in the distance brought a little energy to the setting. Music drifted across, even now, an hour before noon.
“Chanel, talk to me. We’re going to be married. Keeping secrets from each other is dangerous.”
That was true – I’d almost lost him because he’d never understood that I could handle the naval stuff, that I could understand his respect for duty. If I’d told him about my father sooner, perhaps things would’ve been different or gone smoother.
“Chanel?”
“Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I didn’t want to put more pressure on you than I already have, and I was afraid it would throw you off at work.” I struggled to bring the words up.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I think I might know what’s bothering you.”
“What?” My heart skipped at least twenty beats. Good God, why was this so nerve-wrecking? He was my fiancé. I could
tell him anything. “You know?”
“I found the letter,” he said. “And I spoke to her on the phone.”
“Huh?”
“Chanel, relax. I know your mother is coming to the wedding,” he said. “I was sure you’d think I wouldn’t approve, but I do. I’m glad that you two are giving each other the chance to straighten things out.”
My mind tried to catch up. That was what he thought I wanted to discuss? God, that made this even more uncomfortable.
“I understand that your mother made life pretty miserable for you, but she won’t have a chance to do that anymore, and it’s a good idea to try to reconcile,” he said. “Trust me, I lost my mother and it’s a terrible feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on you and that guilt that would come after if you two didn’t at least try to make things right.”
My jaw dropped and I worked to get moisture back into my mouth. “Yeah,” I said, lamely.
“So, you can relax. I don’t hate your mother, and, well, I guess I can’t say she doesn’t hate me yet. We’ll see when she gets here,” he said. “When is she arriving, by the way?”
“A few days before the wedding,” I replied. In fact, I’d been so stressed out about the real issue on my mind I’d totally forgotten to tell him about it. It was sweet that he thought this was my issue, and even sweeter that he wanted to be supportive even though my mom had been super rude to him.
“It’s not like you invited an ex to our wedding,” Ryan said, then sniffed. “Wait a second, you didn’t, right?”
“Of course not!”
Ryan laughed and hugged me again. “Relax, I’m kidding. You’re wound up so damn tight.” He massaged a line up my back and down it to the base of my spine.
I had a choice. I could tell him about the issue or leave it until after the wedding, but chances were he wouldn’t keep quiet if he sensed something was off with me. I couldn’t buy myself two weeks with long bubble baths. And I didn’t want to have to avoid answering questions until then.
It was now or never.
I pulled out of the hug and he held me at arm’s length. “That’s not what’s wrong, is it?” he said.
I shook my head. It was like the Sahara Desert had transported into my mouth.
“Lay it on me,” he said, and folded his arms. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”
I swallowed, then forced a smile, then lost it again. “I’m pregnant.”
Ryan’s eyes went round as dinner plate. “You’re what?”
“Pregnant. I found out at the beginning of the week. I – yeah.”
“Are you serious?” Ryan let out a fantastic whoop.
Paula jerked upright in her beach chair and whacked her head against the umbrella. “What the hell? You trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Is it okay?” I asked. “I mean, are you happy?”
“Happy?! Happy! Are you kidding me? This is the best news. Chanel, I can’t think of anything that would make me happier than marrying you and having a baby with you,” he said, and dragged me into another hug. He positively vibrated with joy. “You’re my soul mate, I swear to God.”
“Oh thank goodness,” I said, and let out a breath. “I was worried it would only stress you out more.”
“No, this is the best news possible.” He kissed my forehead. “We’re going to have a baby. I’ll be a dad and you a mom, and we’ll have a beautiful baby boy or girl. Shit, this is making me mushy all over. Damn.” He laughed and kissed me again.
I’d be a mom, and I wouldn’t be one who restricted her child from doing what they loved.
“All right,” Paula yelled. “That’s it. I can’t get a minute’s peace with you two love birds around.” She whipped off her oversized floppy hat and marched over, sarong whipping in the wind created by her pace.
She halted in front of us and fisted her hips. “What’s going on here? You’d better have a darn good reason for giving me this bump.” She gestured to the minuscule mark on her forehead where she’d connected with the umbrella. “You’ve ruined me for the wedding. How am I supposed to be the maid of honor with a lump like this marring my features?”
“You mean how are you supposed to get the cobwebs blown off your –?”
Paula gave an indignant squawk. “Don’t you dare. I’m fine in the cobweb department thank you very much.” She sniffed. “Seriously, why do you two look like you’re about to spew rainbows and puppy dogs?”
“I’m pregnant,” I said, and Ryan squeezed my waist. He beamed over my head at Paula.
My friend’s mouth flopped open. “Are you shitting me?”
“Not even a little bit!” Ryan grinned from ear to ear. “It’s all real. We’re having a baby!”
Paula let out a squeal rivaling Ryan’s whoop and threw herself at me. She hugged me tight and practically squished all the air out of my lungs. “Oh my God,” she shrieked, and backed away. “This is the best news ever. You’re going to be a mom. I’ve got to call somebody and tell them!” She rushed off, kicking up sand with her tan bare feet.
“I’m going to be a mom,” I repeated. “And a wife.”
The things I’d never dreamed were possible had finally come true for me. All my life, I’d been drifting on the ocean, and Ryan, and his baby, my baby, had provided the anchor I needed.
Ryan slung his arm around my waist and I leaned my head against his shoulder, and I knew, we both did, that everything was how it was meant to be.
I wasn’t alone anymore. I was home.
Claiming His Virgin
CHANCE CARTER
Chapter 1
Jane peers at her willowy reflection in the mirror, then standing on her tiptoes, pliés around for good measure. She halts, when she notices a run in her tights going straight up the back of her leg.
“Oh shoot,” she curses. “Everything is falling apart these days. What next?”
A loud and intense knock sounds at the door, interrupting her musing. It startles her for two reasons. One, no one ever knocks that loudly, because two, no one ever comes to her door.
Squinting through the peep hole, she sees Paulo the landlord. His dark, greasy hair and large face—now sweaty from climbing three flights of stairs—make him look even meaner than usual.
Jane freezes, hoping he will just go away.
He knocks again, even louder than before.
Oh, not today. Just go away, Jane thinks to herself, trying desperately not to make a sound.
“Jane Bryden, I know you’re in there. I am officially delivering your final notice to pay your rent. If you don’t pay me by next week then you are evicted from your apartment. You hear me?”
He slides a piece of paper under the door before walking away, the loud thunk of his shoes emphasizing that this is his place and his rules.
Jane’s breath returns to normal when she knows for sure he is gone.
“Uggghhh, for real?” she groans. “When will the universe give me a break? I’m trying my best and it’s just never enough.”
As she moves to reach for the paper, she stubs her toe against the tiled floor, a feat, it seems that only she could manage. She cries out in painful frustration.
“Why did I have to move to New York, anyway? For a childish dream of ballet? Where has that got me? Absolutely nowhere. Literally, nowhere. I’m, like, days away from being homeless. This city is dirty. The people are mean. The other ballerinas don’t like me,” Jane says out loud, starting to sob. “I will never fit in here.”
On her coffee table is a greeting card her grandmother sent her. It has a brightly colored butterfly surrounded by tiny, reflecting sparkles. She moves to pick it up and reread it another time.
Never give up on your dreams—you were born to fly.
It is her grandmother’s message of love, written in her most beautiful handwriting.
Jane sighs, trying to muster the gall to keep internalizing her grandma’s message when everything around her is speaking to the contrary.
“Oh Grandma, I r
eally hope so. I’m about ready to give up.”
Jane goes back into her room and flops down flat on her back on the twin size bed, grabbing her teddy bear.
“You’re the only one who gets me, Fluffy. You’re the only one I have in my life.”
Her soft, long, dirty blonde hair spread over the pillow, she reaches over to the other side of the bed and wishes someone was there for her. She’s never had a boyfriend. There were guys interested in her, but her mother warned her to stay away from them, saying they would just mess with her head and make her forget all about her dreams and who she is.
She hasn’t even made out with a guy. She kissed Brian, a coworker, in the wine cellar of the restaurant where she worked part-time, but then she found out he had a girlfriend. Jane was crushed and ashamed for letting herself be duped so easily, and vowed never to do something like that again unless she absolutely, positively knows the guy and where he is in his life.
The loneliness is so deep though, and she has no idea when all this bad luck will end. What will change everything? When will she get to feel good again? What is her lesson? What is she not getting?
She touches her breasts, stroking them and pushing them up to see her cleavage. She feels tingles going through her body, and thinks she can take her mind off of all of this. Closing her eyes, she imagines herself in a sexy, black negligée, and someone rubbing her body with his hands. She knows she is somewhat attractive, and that her tits are appealing, even though they are only a B cup.
What I would do right now if I knew someone wanted me. I hate always being the good girl.
She imagines a man reaching his hands down her cleavage and rubbing over the top of her nipples, making them hard, then stroking her flat stomach and tickling her belly button while she giggles out loud, then twists and turns under his teasing touch. Reaching down to the hemline of the lingerie, he puts his fingers along the inside of her thigh, reaching in to touch her pussy and feel the dampness there.
Thunck, thunck, thunck.
Protecting Her Heart Page 64