Marrying the Marine-epub

by Sabrina McAfee

  She held the lovely present tight up against her chest. Tears stained her eyes. He’d put a lot of thought into the gift and it was the most beautiful present anyone had ever given her, definitely the most thoughtful. How do I ever—

  The smoke alarm blared. She spun around. Dropping the album, her heart dunked. The pancakes are burning! Smoke billowed from the pan on the stove, rapidly clogging the air.

  She took off for the stove and collided with Braylon’s solid chest. Stepping around her, he grabbed the pot and tossed it into the dishwater inside the sink. A big loud poof resounded in her ears.

  With the alarm bleeping, piercing her eardrums, Braylon curled his big hands around her biceps. Tilting her head back, she saw concern fill his gaze. “Are you okay?”

  The feel of his strong hands holding her aroused her in a way she’d never experienced before. “I’m fine.” She coughed, wondering how long it’d take before he tried to get her into his bed.

  Chapter Three

  Braylon’s dick hurt Bad with a capital B while standing behind Sandella inside the garage. He ordered his tingly member to remain soft inside his drawers. The last thing he needed was to embarrass himself by getting a fucking erection.

  He pulled open the passenger’s side door of his grandfather’s yellow convertible Jaguar that he’d said he could borrow anytime he wanted. Braylon stepped to the side and, as she climbed in, he enjoyed the wonderful site of her plump firm butt. The black jeans she wore complimented her big bubble behind, and threatened to make the tip of his head milk. I wouldn’t mind caressing that ass of hers.

  After he got Royce settled in the back seat of the car, he slid between the seat and the wheel, and started backing out of the driveway.

  “So where are we going?” Sandella asked.

  “It’s a surprise.” Braylon hit a button near the dashboard prompting the top to slide backward. “I hope you like seafood.”

  “I LOVE SEAFOOD.” She could just stare at his face all day, every day. As he drove the Jaguar along the coast, the warm autumn wind connected with her skin, pricked her scalp. “Royce loves seafood, too.” She looked back over her shoulder at Royce. He stared back at her with a big smile on his face.

  His eyes diverted from her to Braylon. “Br…Br…Bray,” he tried.

  She looked at Braylon, then back at Royce. “Braylon. He’s your nephew.”

  He nodded. “Braylon,” he said it correctly, then burst into laughter at his achievement.

  Smiling, Sandella applauded. “Good job, Royce! Good job!”

  Braylon’s smooth lips spread across his handsome face. “I know the family has already said it a million times, I’m sure. But thanks for all the hard work you put in with him. The last time I saw him he wasn’t talking at all.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I love what I do. Besides making my pies, this is the only job for me. Speaking of my pies, I have to be back by three to make my afternoon deliveries.”

  “Well, I guess we better not spend too much time eating because I was hoping to take a stroll on the beach after lunch.”

  “That’ll be nice,” she said, thinking her father would roll over and die if he knew about any of this.

  Minutes later Braylon drove into the parking lot of the Chart House, situated on the ocean, and parked. “The food here is great.”

  “So I’ve heard, but I’ve never been.”

  During lunch Sandella had the pleasure to indulge in the flavorful Lowcountry perloo shrimp and grits dish. She’d even tried some of Braylon’s fried chicken and jalapeno and cheese biscuit, which was delicious too. Judging by Royce’s empty plate, she could only assume the shrimp fritters she’d ordered for him were to die for.

  After lunch, the three of them walked side by side with her in the middle along the pristine sandy beach of the ocean. A light breeze rustled off the shore blowing strands of her hair across her lips. She swiped her hair behind her ears.

  “Thanks for lunch.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a sweet smile that melted her heart.

  “Thanks for joining me,” he said, taking her hand into his.

  A hot zing of electricity zapped up her arm making her nipples curl tight. His hand, so big, so hard, had her sizzling inside. If the touch of his hand made her nipples erect, my goodness, what would his mouth make her feel if he tasted them?

  The two of them had a wonderful time getting better acquainted. Belatedly they turned around and made their way back toward the restaurant. When they reached the dock of the Chart House, a gentleman burst from the side door of the restaurant and accidentally bumped into Sandella.

  “I’m sor—” The black man’s eyes stretched wide. Wearing a white apron, he was dressed like a cook. She recognized the man immediately. “Sandella, my gawd, I ain’t seen you since the day of your mother’s funeral,” he drawled in a Gullah accent. Of all the people to run into, why did it have to be her father’s good friend, Claude?

  “It’s been a long time, Claude.” Her bottom lip trembled lightly as she fought the urge to run.

  He reached into the pocket of his apron and slid his glasses up the bridge of his bony nose. Taking in her face, he squinted. “I tell you…you sure are pretty. You look just like your momma.”

  If she hadn’t been so nervous, she probably would’ve blushed. “Thanks.”

  His eyes left her face to take in Braylon’s instead. “Is this your boyfriend?” he asked, checking him out from head to toe.

  “Yes,” Braylon blurted, untruthfully.

  Sandella’s jaw dropped. On the verge of going on a destructive rampage over the lie he’d told, she pinched her lips tight to keep from yelling. If Claude ran back and told her father she had a boyfriend and he was a Marine, Kane would have a meltdown. And there was no telling what he’d do.

  He stuck out his hand and Claude shook it. “I’m Braylon Wexler.”

  With a fist on his hip, Claude tilted his head back as if he were thinking. “Wexler. Wexler.” He snapped his fingers. “You kin to Willa and Drake?”

  Braylon smiled. “Yes, sir. I’m their grandson.”

  “You that Marine Willa’s been bragging to everybody about. I tell you fella, you got you a mighty fine gal, here. They don’t make them like Sandella no more. Well, I got to get back to work before they fire me. Tell Kane I said hello and I’mma try to make my way to Beaufort to see him one day real soon.”

  Sandella’s fingers fanned the air waving goodbye. “Okay. I will.”

  “Y’all two take care now. And don’t let nobody get in the way of what you got.” He reached in his pocket, took out a pack of cigarettes, and headed down toward the ocean.

  “I can’t believe you!” Sandella snapped.

  “You’re not mad about the boyfriend thing are you?” He laughed as if his lie was funny.

  She grabbed Royce’s hand. “You’re darn right I am,” she spat, hurrying for the car, walking vigorously in front of him. Please don’t let Claude tell Dad he saw me with my supposed Marine boyfriend.

  BY THE TIME they drove up to the estate Sandella had cooled off. It’d been mighty cocky of Braylon to tell Claude he was her lover. By the same token, once he’d apologized, she’d found his outburst of a joke sort of charming. Besides, if her intuition was correct, any woman would be lucky to have a man like him to call her own.

  Sandella stood at the bottom of the staircase watching Royce ascend the steps toward his bedroom so he could go take a nap. The entire way home from the restaurant he’d mentioned how sleepy he was. Once he reached the top and rounded the corner into his room, she sauntered inside the kitchen.

  Braylon was standing by the counter where her caramel pecan pies were. “I’m ready for that dessert you promised.” He lifted the caramel pecan pie she’d made earlier that morning right after the fire and sniffed it. “It sure smells good. How about we have dessert outside under the tree?”

  How romantic. I’d love to. She gestured toward the door. “Lead the way.”

 
; Once outside under the tree, she sat on the ground next to him. She carved out a slice of pie, placed it on a round ceramic dish, and handed it to him. She then cut a piece for herself.

  Braylon halved the pie with his fork and tasted it. “Mmm, mmm, mmm. This is delicious, Sandella.”

  She flushed. “Thank you.”

  “The best I’ve ever had. Have you thought about selling your pies in a store?”

  “No.”

  “Well you should.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You have such a nice smile. I like you better when you’re not mad at me.”

  “If you hadn’t done what you did, then I would’ve never gotten mad at you. That was pretty cocky, you know?”

  “I don’t call it cocky.”

  She tilted her head. “Well, what do you call it?”

  “Confident. You have some pie in the corner of your mouth. Is it okay if I get it off?”

  “Yes, please do.” She leaned her head forward thinking he would wipe the dessert off with his finger. Instead, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her. Cupping her shoulders, he slipped his tongue deeper into her mouth, and a husky groan escaped her. The sweet caramel flavoring of her pie rolled off his probing flesh and into her mouth where she gladly tasted it.

  As he feasted hard on her mouth she felt like she was floating. Moist heat gathered in her core. At last, at last. He’s kissing me at last.

  He broke their heated kiss, leaving her mouth scorching like a raging wildfire. He swiped a piece of hair behind her ear, and breathed huskily against her swollen lips. “That was beautiful.”

  A hard pulse beat at the base of her throat as she sought to regulate her erratic breathing. His tender ministrations had her eyes misting. “Yes, it was.”

  BRAYLON WITNESSED water puddle the rims of Sandella’s eyes. Damn! He hoped he wasn’t moving too fast. But damn, he couldn’t help it. This woman had his balls knotting and wanting to unload.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “They why are your eyes watery?”

  She touched her swollen lips. “Braylon …your kiss…made me feel something I’ve never felt before.”

  “Something good or bad?”

  In a soft voice, she answered, “Good.”

  He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I enjoyed our kiss, too. Let me taste you,” he pecked her lips, “again.” He pressed his open lips to hers, and swerved his tongue inside her mouth. His cock sang with electricity, then hardened like steel. I can’t wait to make love to you, my pretty lady.

  Tempted to roam his hand over her rounded breasts, he ran his fingers through her soft hair. He’d enjoyed licking the salty remnants of caramel from her sweet tongue.

  He was reluctant to pause, but had to in order to catch his breath. Her eyes glowed affectionately, turning his heart to mush. Sperm boiled in his hard spheres. Aroused to the point of exploding, he put the tip of his nose on hers. “Sandella, I’m going to show you,” he kissed her lips, “and prove to you,” another kiss on her wet lips, “that I’m worthy of you.” He sealed his promise with a final kiss.

  Suddenly, his ex, Madison, and her son Drayton coursed through his mind. Damn. Is Drayton my son? Knowing he possibly had a young precious son, his heart wrenched.

  Would Sandella have let him kiss her if she knew he might have a child? If Drayton turned out to be his, then he’d have no choice but to end things with Sandella. She deserved a man who could give himself completely and wholeheartedly. And the last thing he wanted was to end up the kind of man his father had been.

  Wayne Wexler had been a no-good son of a bitch. After twenty-five years of marriage, Wayne had left his mother, Lorna, for his younger mistress. At the time of his parents’ divorce, Braylon was in high school, and he’d promised himself then that he’d never walk out on his children and not raise them. Never.

  His cell vibrated against his hip. He pulled it from the clip and read the screen. Hell! It was Madison. Talk about coincidence. Because he needed privacy when speaking with her, he slid the phone back into the clip and let the call roll to voicemail.

  Sandella’s gaze clung to the river. She bent her legs then wrapped her arms around them. She seemed like she was as deep in thought as he’d been seconds ago.

  “What are you thinking about?” he prompted.

  “Nothing.”

  “Sandella,” he rubbed circles on her back, “I read people very well and I can tell you’re thinking about something. I want you to share your feelings and thoughts with me. Look…to break the ice, why don’t you tell me about those beautiful women in the photo album. And I’ll tell you about myself and my family. Deal?”

  She nodded. “Deal.”

  Braylon positioned his back up against the thick bark. He patted the space on the ground between his thighs. “Sit here.” She crawled over him and sat between his thighs. Good thing his dick had softened.

  Resting his chin on her shoulder, he eased his arms around her tiny waist, peered out at the river. Man oh man, having her on me like this feels like heaven. His cock throbbed. Stay down, boy.

  Reddish orange leaves spiraled gracefully from the limbs sprinkling down over them. The warm autumn day and setting were perfect for kissing, sharing, and making love. Don’t try to bed her too soon, he warned himself, inhaling her sweet, flowery scent.

  “I haven’t talked about my mother with anyone other than my family since the day she died.”

  He cupped her hands. “There’s a first time for everything. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

  A heavy sigh pressed from her opened mouth. “She was such a beautiful woman, both inside and out.”

  He put his mouth to her lobe. “Yes, she was beautiful. You look just like her in the photo.”

  “She loved me and my brothers and my father so much. We were her world.” Sandella’s body relaxed within his strong embrace as she told him all about her grandmother’s upbringing, and how she’d picked cotton in the fields of South Carolina for a living.

  After reliving the happy life she’d had as a young teenager, she then moved on to the disastrous day her mother had died. He hadn’t expected her to tell him at this particular moment. As she opened her mouth to speak, her body tensed. “It was raining hard the night she died,” her voice cracked.

  RAIN POUNDED the slick asphalt as Sandella drove down the dark narrow road toward her home in Beaufort. Large balls of hail dropped from the sky, cracking against the windshield. Pressing her breastbone to the steering wheel in an attempt to see better, she flicked her windshield wipers to full speed.

  Thunder boomed! She flinched. God, she hated driving in bad weather.

  When she reached the cul-de-sac near her home, she noticed an army of police cars swarming her house. Even in the thickness of the heavy rainfall, red and blue flashing lights emanating from police cars blazed straight through the darkness.

  With her heart drumming in her chest, Sandella hopped out of the car and bolted up the driveway. An officer standing at the foot of the porch steps stopped her from going inside the house. After showing him her driver’s license verifying she lived there, the officer let her in.

  She rushed passed her brother Drew weeping pitifully in the corner, and shot straight inside her parents’ bedroom. Her heart shattered like broken glass. Her mother’s mangled body lay on the stretcher with her father by her side.

  She stood on the other side of the stretcher staring into her mother’s pale face. Her eyes were closed and she looked dead. Panic rose inside her.

  “What happened?” she asked, shaken, her eyes combing over the red bruises staining her mother’s face, throat, and arms.

  Her father’s grim voice cracked as he said, “Someone broke into the house—”

  The paramedic burst in. “She was raped and stabbed. We have get her to the hospital now.”

  “Waaiitt,” her mother slowly breathed out, opening her eyes. “Saannddy.” She grunted in pain
as she flexed her fingers signaling for Sandella’s hand. “Promise me.”

  “Promise you what?” Sandella asked, brushing errant bangs from her mother’s forehead.

  “Prrromiise.” The whispered word slurred from her mother’s swollen lips. “Take care of your brothers.”

  “You’re going to be fine. I don’t need to promise.”

  Her mother swallowed, closed her eyes, then reopened them. “Promise,” she whispered. Blood was caked in the cracks of her inflamed, now purpling lips.

  “Yes, Momma. I promise I’ll take care of them.” The depths of Sugar’s eyes revealed deep love for her only daughter. Sandella pecked her mother’s cold cheek.

  She wheezed. “I think I’m dying.” With her lips quivering, she half smiled.

  Sandella started sobbing. “Please don’t leave me, Momma.”

  “I taught you everything you need to know,” she said, “so you could fly on your own. Now fly.” Her eyes rolled closed.

  “And that’s what happened,” Sandella said, blowing Braylon’s mind. “A private told my father he’d heard it’d been another Marine who’d killed her. But he wouldn’t say who. The police never bothered to question the man either.”

  “Why not?”

  “According to them, there wasn’t probable cause. A month late the private was found murdered in the woods.”

  “He was on to something.”

  “That’s how my family and I felt.”

  “I’m so, so, sorry, Sandella,” he said, squeezing her.

  Her shoulders sagged. “I just feel if the killer was brought to justice, my father would finally be able to relax. He worries so much about me.”

  His stomach roiled in disgust. If someone hurt her, I’ll kill the bastard. A strong need to protect her surfaced inside him. “Tell your father that he doesn’t have to worry about you now that I’m here.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.”

  “I didn’t say it to be nice. I said it because I meant it.” Braylon didn’t understand the newfound gentleness tugging at his heart for the damn woman.