One Day You'll Be Mine: Steamy Contemporary Military Romance

by Hart, Alana

  Desmond turned to me. “Well, Natalia, I’ll be. Today must be my lucky day. I was telling these men over here that you were stunning, but you had to be taken.” He smirked as he gestured back to his friends, who were obviously enjoying this interaction.

  I blushed harder, wanting to shrink from my seat. I felt like I was being punked. Desmond was extremely attractive. Too attractive to be attracted to me. He looked like a celebrity. Didn’t celebrities date models? Shouldn’t he be lusting after a woman who looks like Behati Prinsloo? He had to be in his late twenties and I was almost halfway through my thirties and in the middle of a divorce. There was no way he could be interested in me.

  And there was no way my heart should have fluttered when he said those words. Me? Stunning?

  “Th-thanks,” I managed to stutter.

  “No problem.” He smiled. Extracting his business card from his breast pocket, he extended it to me. “Here’s my card. Give me a call. I’d love to take you out sometime.”

  I paused, unsure of how to respond. Rose gently kicked me under the table, and I shot her a dirty look as I gingerly accepted the card from him.

  “Pleasure to meet you Rose.” He shook her hand once again. “Pleasure to meet you, Natalia.” Instead of shaking it, he took my hand, gallantly lifted it to his lips and kissed it. His warm lips sent a tingle up my spine, giving me a chill I hadn’t experienced in a long time. A soft moan escaped my lips as our eyes connected.

  He released my hand, apparently satisfied with my reaction.

  “Gentlemen.” He tilted his head toward the door, nodded at Rose and me once more, and was gone before I could blink.

  Chapter 22: Rose

  Several hours later, I still felt weird. After dropping Natalia off, I stopped at the store and grabbed Tums and some water. My stomach just wouldn’t settle, and fatigue set in.

  By 3 PM, it was clear I wasn’t going to feel much better. I cancelled my evening yoga class, prayed to make it through the day, and jet straight home. We still had leftovers from today’s meal, as well as garlic ranch chicken and veggies from the night before, but all I wanted was a bottle of water and fruit. I just had this urge to get something light in my stomach, and lay down.

  After a relaxing bubble bath, I noticed Natalia’s door was still closed. Figured she’d be sleep. Either that or she was hiding in her room after today’s events. Natalia wasn’t used to causing scenes or being in the midst of them, but it was just one of those days.

  She was upset with me when I insisted she take Desmond’s card, because she “wasn’t ready to move on,” but I didn’t care. I loved Hollis like a brother, but with the shitty behavior he doled out, but it was time to let go.

  I was laying in bed, Skyping Ellis via text on my phone, when there were a small series of knocks on my door.

  “Come in.”

  Natalia slowly pushed her head in. Holding a mug of hot chocolate, she slowly trudged in my direction. I could smell the rich vapors, and when she came close, I could see the whip cream melt into creamy ripples when she set it on my nightstand. Slowly easing onto Ellis’s side of the bed, she asked how I was feeling.

  “Meh,” I replied. “I’m so-so. I think I just did a little too much today with all that steak and wine.”

  “That’s not normal though,” she replied. “You usually eat like that anyway.”

  “You’re right, but I never let wine go down the wrong tube when I do.”

  “True, but even still, you should have tossed your cookies, and been feeling better immediately after.” She eyed me, her eyes asking a question I couldn’t interpret.

  “How long has your libido been crazy?”

  “What do you mean? I’m always horny.”

  “Has it spiked in the past few weeks?”

  “Yeah, but nothing serious. I haven’t been having sex. You know, the whole sexually frustrated for your freedom stuff and all.”

  “Hm.” She felt my forehead. “You’re definitely not running a fever. When was your last period?”

  “Uhm… I don’t know. A few weeks,” I said. This was getting a little weird.

  “Was it heavy?” I shrugged. To be honest, I didn’t remember the exact date, but I had one. It was a little lighter than usual, but it was definitely there.

  “What’s with the inquisition?” I was getting annoyed with all the questions. “Can I question you about Desmond? Have you called him yet?”

  She was unmoved by my weak attempts to be left alone. “Are you pregnant?”

  “No.” I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t had sex in a while, remember?”

  She shook her head. “That doesn’t mean anything. You could have gotten pregnant during that last time you guys were together. Were you guys using protection?”

  “Yes, we were,” I affirmed my statement with confidence, but paused. “We had condoms for every round but the last round. There wasn’t enough time to go to the store, so we just decided to take a chance. But he pulled out.”

  “And you say you’ve gotten your period.”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “It was a little shorter than usual, but it was a period.”

  Natalia eyed me with a faint suspicion. “Women still get periods when they’re pregnant. Some women never stop getting them during their pregnancy.”

  “Throwing up once and feeling like crap the rest of the day doesn’t mean I’m pregnant.”

  “No it doesn’t, but I’m looking at your boobs and they’re definitely swelling.” She poked one of them playfully. “And you’ve been complaining of fatigue a few times over the past couple of days.”

  “Really?” I wrinkled my lip. I hadn’t realized I’d been so tired lately. “Maybe I need more green juice.” I sat up, pushed the covers off and headed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold-pressed green juice I’d gotten from the store. Chugging the spinach, lime, and apple blend was refreshing, but I still wanted to lay down. I closed the cap and brought the bottle back in the room with me.

  “See?” I posed, holding the bottle. “All I needed was a little green in my life.”

  Natalia shook her head, rolling her eyes at my behavior. I settled into bed and pressed her about Desmond. If she was going to press me about a pregnancy that didn’t exist, and make something out of nothing, I was going to press her about the handsome stranger who paid the bill on our expensive lunch.

  “What about him?”

  “You’re not going to call him?” I said.

  “I’m still a married woman,” Natalia insisted. “I cannot court another man until I’m divorced. Who knows if Hollis will change his mind?”

  I sighed. I didn’t want to be a bitch, but the writing was all over the wall. Anytime a man tells your child you’re getting a divorce, sends you packing without a care in the world, and has a mistress, I don’t think he’s changing his mind. But I couldn’t be harsh about it and create any bad blood between us while she was so vulnerable.

  “There’s no harm in meeting anyone.” I persisted, emphasizing the finer points of their conection. “Desmond’s not trying to marry you. I’m sure he just wants the opportunity to get to know you. There’s no harm in that. Did you see his business card? He works for a huge real estate firm! He can probably help you find a job if I can’t. Think of this as a networking opportunity.”

  Natalia initially resisted, insisting upon the need to remain faithful to Hollis. But when I drove home the fact that she didn’t come here to lose out and live inside the house, she winced. When I reminded her the new connections she would make here - starting with Desmond - were the keys to success in rebuilding her life, she became more and more convinced I was right.

  “You could use a little chivalry in your life,” I teased. “I heard that little sigh that escaped when he kissed the top of your hand.”

  “I threw away his card.”

  “That’s okay, dahhhhlin’.” I motioned for her to grab my purse. “He left another one inside our checkbook.”

  “Heifer,” she mumbled,
turning beet-faced in defeat.

  “It’s okay. You’ll thank me later.”

  And she would. With the frustration of events spilling over from her job search, and feeling undesired by a man who no longer loved her, Desmond’s emergence signaled good fortune. He was tall, handsome, and clearly interested. At the very least, a few drinks over conversation wouldn’t hurt.

  Chapter 23: Natalia

  I was too flustered and frustrated by the messed up way the day had gone, from being stood up at the job interview, all the way to Rose’s vomiting episode. I actually spent the rest of that day at home, aggravated by life and the boil on my upper leg. Making matters worse, this all happened while I was coming to the end of my period, and I still needed supplies.

  Walking through the store with that huge, painful bump from the ingrown hair coming to a head, my thighs rubbed together mercilessly while that painfully absorbent tampon sucked the life out of my insides. I tried to ignore my discomfort as I whined to Kelli about the poor etiquette of the real estate company that ignored my calls.

  “Natalia, get a grip. You have the coolest sister in law on the planet. She’s a rich beauty editor for Dallas’ coolest magazine. You’ve only been there one week, and you have men falling all over you – hot men with money – and you’re bitching about some asshole who can’t return phone calls and honor your time?” Kelli clarified.

  “Yes. But –”

  “Let me tell you something. You’re still young, and despite whatever little lumps, humps, and bumps you’ve gained over the years, you’re quite mesmerizing. You’re not locked in the miserable heat of California anymore. And you’re no longer under the emotional dictatorship of your marriage. The divorce is in progress, and that says a lot about where the situation’s headed.”

  “I’m just scared of starting over. I don’t know what men like these days. I don’t know what they expect. What is it – three dates before sex?”

  Kelli sighed, dramatically through the phone. “Let go of the idea of sex and a relationship. You’re starting over right now whether you want to or not. It’s up to you to make sure that you give this your all. It’s not easy, but you’ve got to stop hiding behind the uncertainty of your life, and start leaning into the opportunities in front of you. You know what I learned, especially after I had to accept my fate with Kristophe’s behavior? That we get to choose where the story ends. We don’t have to end the story if we don’t want to. We can change the chapters as much as we want to – and even throw out the scripts and start over. Opportunities multiply as they are seized. Take that man up on his offer and go out on that date.”

  ***

  Rose and Kelli’s insistence that I contact Desmond unnerved me. I was new to Dallas, and looking for a job, not another man. Dating wasn’t on my list of to-dos. Even if my husband checked out of our marriage, it was wrong for me to consider anything new until the ink was dry on our papers.

  Regardless of how I felt, they were right about at least making the connection. I planned to at least call him, just to thank him once more for picking up our tab for lunch. It was sweet of him. I’d make it clear that I wasn’t looking for a relationship though, and leave our interaction at that.

  So I thought.

  I was a nervous wreck when I first picked up the phone to call him. My hands were shaking because I didn’t know what to say, even though I knew what I had to say. I hadn’t so much as courted the interest of another man in twenty years.

  Those rare occasions where a man held my eye for more than two seconds involved him acting on a television screen. In other words, far, far, far away from me, unaware of my existence, therefore unable to tempt me into any wickedness.

  Desmond was the very definition of walking temptation. He looked like a runway model. He had deep pockets like Donald Trump.

  … And when I tried to thank him and run off the phone, I failed. Instead of creating a one-off interaction, I was seduced by his easygoing, boy-next-door charm. We clicked from the time he said hello until I laid down to go to sleep, sometime after two in the morning.

  He had an effortless magnetism that made our conversation kind of, just …flow.

  After a couple of conversations, and several days of texting back and forth, Desmond invited me to Victor Tango’s for drinks. I stood in the mirror, nervously checking out my outfit. The graphite pencil skirt Rose picked out for me was paired with a bright blue off-the-shoulder sweater. Rose insisted I wear heels, but I wasn’t comfortable wearing any. These wedges were already stretching it. I was two seconds from putting on some ballet flats and jeans before she threw her hands up in surrender.

  “Fine! At least let me do your makeup!” She insisted. “But first, I’m going to do your hair.”

  She fussed over my hair for an hour, putting my hair in huge curls that she pinned to my scalp. Afterwards, she spent another forty minutes carefully applying mink lashes and doing whatever secret makeup tricks she was doing.

  Before she let me see the final look, she took a bunch of photos with her phone. “Lady, come on, I have to get going!”

  I was anxious, time was running short and I didn’t want to be late. But when she slowly undid my hair and I finally allowed me to take a glance of myself in the mirror, I had to gasp. The woman in the mirror was hot. She had smoldering gray eyes, intensified by smoky shadow, and rich caramel lipstick that warmed up her usually fair complexion.

  “No way,” I whispered. I had to touch my own face to make sure this was me.

  “Yes, way,” Rose but in. “Now get out house and go meet Desmond the Dreamsicle!”

  ***

  I arrived just five minutes before my scheduled time. Trembling with nervousness, I checked my skirt and heels before exiting. I knew I looked striking from what I saw in the mirror, but I was still intimidated by Desmond. I was accustomed to a certain kind of woman, and while I surely wasn’t exactly of that caliber, I could do my best to put forth a stunning presentation.

  Walking with clutch in hand, I stored my debit card, $20 cash, and keys in my cleavage. People thought it was tacky for a woman to stash her things like this, but in the event my clutch was stolen, I wouldn’t be completely stranded and hopeless. My cell phone was discretely hidden in a back pocket of my skirt.

  Desmond met me at the door.

  “Good evening, Natalia.” He took my hand in his again and kissed it, sending that intense wave of pleasure through me. My nipples immediately hardened in reaction. This time, I held my breath and smiled, forcing every ounce of me not to melt under his touch. I don’t know how I’d forgotten the effect he had on my body.

  Desmond placed his arm around the small of my back and guided me to our table. “You are unquestionably gorgeous, but tonight you’re really taking my breath away.”

  His words caressed my ear and tickled me. Losing any hope of cool, I giggled as my face turned 50 shades of red. “Thank you.” Rose informed me that saying anything besides thank you would turn a man off, because men liked to give compliments. My job was to receive and accept them graciously.

  Our booth was in the back, in a corner that allowed us utmost privacy. “I hope you don’t mind this section,” he asked. “I tend to enjoy people watching.”

  “Kind of like you did the day you met me?” I teased. Using my slight sense of sarcasm as humor was my form of self-protection, albeit not the strongest form available.

  “No, I wasn’t people watching that day. You just happened to attract me, and pull me in with those gorgeous features of yours.” He gazed intensely at me. Part of me fell into those piercing brown eyes, but only for a second before I broke contact to look over the menu.

  “So… What’s good here?”

  “Do you have any dietary restrictions?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Would you trust me to order for you?”

  “Sure…” I’d never had a man take control and order for me. “You promise not to give me anything crazy?”

  “Define cra
zy.” He looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes, playing along.

  “You know, something that I wouldn’t be caught dead eating. Pig snout. Fish elbow.”

  He smiled. “I wouldn’t get you anything I wouldn’t eat myself.” He excused himself to approach the wait staff. I could see him pointing at our table, and then holding conversation with them. One of the servers seemed to nod and take notes as he spoke, and nodded in confirmation. He smiled in gratitude, and turned in the direction of the bathroom.

  As the server, a young man in his twenties, approached the table, he smiled. “Good evening Ms. Natalia. I was informed by Mr. Devereaux to get your drink order. What would you like?”

  “Ahhhh…” I looked over the menu quickly for something that stood out. “Give me the… Pretty in Pink.” It seemed the least harmless out of all the other cocktails. Suck My Kiss? That sounded like a drink for Kelli.

  “Fabulous choice, ma’am. I’ll have that right out for you. My name is Jordan, and I’ll be your server if you have any questions. My heart panged when he said his name. It reminded me of my own son, who I hadn’t spoken to that much these past few days.

  Desmond returned a minute after Jordan took our orders. “You seem lost in thought.”

  I nodded. “I am. I can’t deny there are a few things on my mind.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Well, the server’s name is Jordan. That’s my son’s name. I miss him.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s… with his father.” Silence. I felt a rash of embarrassment spread over me. I knew he would think I’m a bad mother for being out on a date with him instead of at home with my child. But instead of judging me, he asked more about Jordan, his likes, dislikes, temperament, and interests. I breathed a sigh of relief and shared as much as I could without going too deep or detailed.

  “I hope that wasn’t too much.” I nervously fiddled my drink on the table. “I just love my son. Sometimes I can just get carried away with over-sharing.”