by Zoe York
Tonight was one of those times.
But he wanted to show her something, and she wasn’t going to rain on that parade. He was a big boy. Her shock over him walking all the way to the meadow was enough doubt for one day.
Besides, he was wearing her shirt and holding her hand as they walked through a forest. It was pretty much her fall fantasy come to life. If there was making out up against a tree, her already great day would be made perfect.
She checked the signal on her pager and her cell phone, because sometimes reception on the peninsula was spotty, but she was fine.
Once they were across the snowmobile trail Sean slowed down. “Right here.”
So they weren’t walking all the way in to the meadow.
She turned in a slow circle.
But when she returned her gaze to where Sean had been standing, he was gone, moving around some scrubby brush.
“Careful,” he called out over his shoulder. “Don’t trip over the kitchen.”
She pulled up short. In front of her was a thin rope stretching across the pine needles covering the forest floor. She followed it to a wooden stake in the ground then took the ninety degree turn to the next stake. Here there were two ropes, one extending forwards, more external wall, and the other cutting in again. “Big kitchen,” she said quietly, her heart thudding in her chest.
“It’s become a tradition in my family to build a house for the women we love.” She jerked her head up and found Sean had returned. He had a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, late summer blooms. Hardy flowers that had withstood the crazy heat waves and heavy summer storms. Bright orange, pale yellow, the odd purple dotting here and there.
He stopped in front of her and lowered himself to one knee as he held out the flowers. “I want to build you a house, Jenna.”
She already had everything she needed. And he wanted to give her more?
They had a little house. She’d brought up buying it from Dean, but Sean had always been vague about when they might do that.
“I already asked you to marry me, and I thank God every day you said yes. I fell in love with you in a heartbeat, and my entire life changed. And when my life changed again, you never wavered.”
That wasn’t true, though. She’d wavered plenty. Second-guessed her crazy plan to follow him, worried she wasn’t enough… She wanted to fall to her knees and kiss him. Tell him he didn’t need to do this.
But she couldn’t move, and the look on his face was one she’d never forget. He wanted to do this. He gazed up at her, his eyes bright and filled with promise, and it was like they were back in Spain.
Heady feelings and endless dreams.
He pressed the flowers into her hands, covering her fingers with his own. Strong, solid hands, attached to a strong, solid body. A quiet, solid man, made stronger still by all he had survived.
“I want to build you a house big enough for all our dreams,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “A threshold I can carry you over.”
Her heart flipped and she nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes?” He grinned and stood again, using his cane to get up. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hooking his fingers into the back pocket of her jeans as he pulled her against him.
“Show me our future home,” she said as he curved over her, as he leaned in for a kiss she already knew was going to steal her heart. His kisses always did. Soft, sweet plundering embraces that turned dirty on a dime.
This was no different. His lips coaxed and his tongue teased, until she was up on her toes and he had to widen his stance to hold her as he kissed her with his entire body.
“Right, the house,” he finally said with a quiet laugh as he held her close. “Got distracted.”
“Yes. Show me before we lose the light.”
He turned her around and pointed at the lines. From this angle, she could see them more clearly, and there were orange paint marks on the wooden stakes. “This is the kitchen. Big enough for a farmhouse table so we can have dinner parties, just the way you like them. Everyone helping with the prep. A wine rack here, and around the corner, a butler’s pantry. Behind that…” He gestured with his cane, and she followed. “A mudroom that leads into a garage. A place to store hockey gear and your medical bags.”
“Hockey gear?” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “Are you going to start skating again?”
He shrugged. “I was thinking about trying sled hockey. A lot of injured vets play it. But not right now. Either way, our kids will have stuff. Need to plan ahead.”
“Kids?”
He pointed into the tree-studded sky above them. “Four bedrooms upstairs, with a library off the master bedroom that can be a nursery.”
How many kids was he planning for them to have? “Fancy.”
“You’re a hard woman to please,” he murmured, but his eyes were on fire now, and she loved it. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”
Him wanting to make babies with her was definitely the good part, but she wasn’t letting on just yet that she was sold, all in, whatever he wanted.
The forest floor here wasn’t level, and he took her hand, tugging her to the top of the rise, where their tent was erected. How had she missed that? “This,” he murmured as he moved around her. “This will be the view from our bedroom window. Even better, really, because we’ll be up another storey.”
There was a gap in the trees ahead of them, and through it, she could see their meadow.
“Oh, Sean—”
Brrrt. Her pager vibrated.
She tugged it off the strap of her cross body bag and read the text message from the answering service. Brenda’s water had broken and they were heading to the hospital. “I have to go,” she said, regret lancing each word. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”
He cupped her face and kissed her. “I’ll call someone else to come get me. Go.”
“But—”
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life right here. Sending you off to bring babies into the world. Hearing the phone ring and knowing that our plans will need to change. And that’s okay. That’s more than okay. That’s wonderful. I love you. Go. I’ll be at home when you’re done. Wake me up and tell me all about it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE LAST DAY of Sean’s career in the Canadian Forces started in the best way possible—with his wife coming home in the early morning, before dawn, and crawling into bed with him.
“Baby arrive?” he asked, shaking off the heavy veil of sleep.
“Yep. Fast and furious. A little bit of excitement after the delivery with a blood pressure drop for mom, but they’re all okay now.”
Her hair was damp from the shower. It felt good to touch and he curled his fingers into it and tugged.
They hadn’t had a chance to finish their conversation the night before. Hadn’t gotten to what he’d hoped would follow the conversation, either.
“You tired?”
“I’ll sleep soon.” Something in the way she said it made him blink his eyes open.
She was wearing that plaid shirt she’d given him.
And, God willing, she wasn’t wearing anything else. Her bare leg was curled up and around his body.
He was suddenly a big fan of red flannel.
“Hey,” he said softly, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “You look…wow. I like the shirt better on you.”
She rose, too. This was the most arousing image in the world—Jenna, rising on her knees beside him, smiling as she reached for the three buttons she’d bothered doing up in the first place.
She didn’t even need to open her shirt and he was blissfully, thankfully hard. Ready and eager for his wife.
He pushed the blankets away and sat up, leaning back against the headboard. She crawled into his lap, straddling him, as the shirt fell open. He skimmed his fingers over her waist and curled them around her breasts. Cupping, squeezing, loving.
That he had this again was a gift. He would never take it for granted.
“Sean…”
He’d had so many plans.
Races to run.
Wars to fight.
And then he’d walked into that mess tent and fallen head over heels in love.
When he lost the ability to run, to fight, he’d thought he’d lose this too.
But this—Jenna, and their love—had saved him. It had given him a new set of dreams and goals.
He’d build her a house.
“So…” she said, her breath hitching as she rode him slowly. “You want to make babies with me?”
He curved his hands around her waist and lower, cupping her bottom. His fingers stroked her ass lightly, teasing her crease the way she liked before he squeezed her cheeks tighter and urged her to pick up the pace. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
She wouldn’t be hurried tonight, though. “Maybe we could build this house first.”
“Definitely by the time the second one comes along.” Oh, he could tell she liked that. She shuddered in his arms and rolled her hips, pulling him deeper into her body.
He was going to be just fine.
Broken.
Put back together.
Missing a few pieces, maybe, but Jenna had filled those spots with new and way more interesting plans.
He had a wife and the promise of a family. A plot of land and a house to build. A set of skills for which he would forever be grateful.
“One thing at a time,” she whispered as he tugged her forward so he could get his mouth on her breasts.
Sure, they’d take it slow. But they’d learned together that even small, careful steps could eventually get them where they wanted to go.
He tugged her shirt—his shirt, their shirt—down her shoulders, baring more of her as she rose above him. Through lust-hooded eyes, he watched her body roll in pleasure. Muscles moving beneath overheated skin. Flushed marks decorating the swells and dips he’d now memorized.
She was his, and he was hers.
He pushed up, suddenly craving that tight, desperate squeeze of her heat around him. Like he was too big for her, too much. Of course he wasn’t, but there was now always that little bit of his brain that worried he wasn’t enough. What turned him on worked in weird ways to balance that doubt.
“Oh yeah, just like that,” Jenna breathed. She knew. She knew him to his soul. “God, yes, Sean.”
With a cry, she came around him, and he jerked his own release deep inside her.
His gorgeous, wonderful wife.
It was the last day of a chapter in his journey that had once been everything. His mission, his drive. Now it was just a bittersweet goodbye to what had been a good gig while he had it, and which had mercifully carried him to meet the woman who would be the rest of his journey.
His forever.
SINCE JENNA NEEDED TO SLEEP, Sean also spent much of the day in bed. He’d spend the night getting drunk for the first time in almost exactly a year.
He was not wrong—that is exactly how it was playing out at the Wiarton Armoury.
“This time last year we were heckling you for falling hard and fast for Liana,” Sean said to Dean when his older brother brought him yet another beer. He was on his third now. He’d skipped all of his meds today, which meant tomorrow was going to be a fucking gong show in his head, but this was his mug out—drinking was non-negotiable unless it really wasn’t an option, and that wasn’t the case for him.
“This time last year we were having a wicked party at your place,” Matt added shamelessly as he joined them.
Sean gave him the finger. It wasn’t a lie, it was just…a different time in his life.
Now he made different choices—like nursing this beer and passing off the other rounds bought for him to those in attendance. Not that the officers, even the junior ones, were likely to get blitzed.
But the Fosters were in attendance tonight, and that changed things.
His brothers were all non-commissioned officers, and their messes—first the Junior Ranks Mess, now the Sergeants mess—were more raucous than the Officers’ Mess.
But they were all here by invitation. And they were all bored out of their minds.
So was he.
“To the Queen!” Jake called out, raising his beer high.
Sean grinned. It was good to be back in uniform one last time. Before coming up to the mess, he’d spent an hour sitting with the CO and the padre. He took their lectures on the chin—he’d been too distant, too closed off, and could have accepted more support from the unit.
He hadn’t wanted it. Couldn’t see at the time that they meant well.
He was glad he came out of that haze when the unit was stood down for the summer.
After the formal goodbye meeting, he signed the last few pieces of paperwork for his release with the clerk, promised to return his uniforms within fourteen days, and headed upstairs to the mess.
“To the Queen,” he murmured as he raised his own bottle.
The next toast was a quiet one. Dean pulled Matt in close, and Jake closed in on the other side, until they were in a circle of just the four of them. “To our baby brother,” Dean said. “Full of surprises and capable of anything.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Jake said.
“You guys have been…” Great. Far too patient. Rockstar brothers. There weren’t words to properly describe how Sean felt. “I’m beyond grateful,” he finally said. “For all the ass kicking, and driving, and food and shelter and beer.”
“More of that in the future,” Dean said gruffly. “Jake pushed the calendar appointment to my phone this afternoon. Construction begins in March?”
“Yep.” Sean had a plan. Having a contractor for a brother brought costs down, but building a house was still a significant cost. It would eat up most of his savings.
But Chloe was helping him build a website, and Jenna had booked a week of holidays. They were heading to Florida in December, to his old winter training camp. This time, he was returning as a speaker and limited-run special coach. The fees for that would cover his income needs through to the end of the spring.
And so it would begin. The rest of his life.
“Hey,” Dean thumped him on his shoulder. He pointed to the door, where their father stood. He wasn’t in uniform—long retired now—but as a former member of this very mess, as a former CO of the unit, he was always welcome. “I didn’t know he was coming.”
Sean gave a single nod, and the room didn’t spin. A small improvement that felt like he’d climbed a mountain. “Yeah. I invited him.”
The look on his oldest brother’s face was priceless.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Dean raised his voice. “Over here, sir.”
“Sons,” the Colonel said as he approached. “I see you’re bringing your beer-guzzling ways into the Officers’ Mess.”
“Only way to do a mug out, Dad,” Matt said. “Mug. Of Beer. Well, I’d do a mug out with gin, too, but I don’t think you’d approve of how that would end.”
Jake groaned. “Don’t say it.”
Matt crowed as he lifted his beer in the air. “Pants off, all the way.”
Their father immediately turned and scanned the crowd. “Good turn out tonight.”
Sean cleared his throat. “How about you and I go have something that’s served in a proper glass?”
That got more shocked looks from his brothers.
Good.
He was all about surprising them. First with the fact he’d owned a plot of land all this time, then with his business ideas. Now with his ability to act like an adult with their father.
“Matt, make sure your pants stay on until you head back to your own mess.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Last day for that,” his father said as he led the way to the bar.
Sean nodded. “
Yep.”
“How do you feel about that?”
He’d been thinking about this all night. “You know, sir. Jenna’s taught me something pretty significant this summer. We don’t always get what we want, you know? Thank you.” He accepted a glass filled with what smelled like brandy. “But we can make what we get something worth wanting.”
EPILOGUE
The following spring
SEAN FROWNED AT HIS WATCH. If they didn’t appear in another sixty seconds, it would mean their miles per hour speed had dropped significantly on the last ten kilometres.
But just when he was about to reach for his phone, he heard footfalls in the distance, then voices. One light, the other strained.
Dean was more than done. Too bad the stubborn ass wouldn’t admit it.
When Liana had approached Sean about training her for an ultra run, Dean had volunteered to pace her.
It was time for his brother to admit he couldn’t keep up with his wife, not for hours at a time.
Sean tugged his visor off his head and wiped at the sweat forming along his hairline before he stood up. It was hard work, sitting in a camp chair and thinking about running techniques. He grinned at his little joke just as the happy couple turned the corner.
“What are you laughing at?” Dean growled as Sean handed him a bit of beef jerky and a Dixie cup of pickle juice.
It wasn’t watching his brother suffer through this trial run of his fifty mile training plan. Nope. “Nothing. Just happy, that’s all.”
His brother gave him a long, suffering look before nodding. “Good.”
Liana tugged off her mini backpack and handed it to Sean. “This is starting to chafe against the inside of my arms.”
He took a look at the buckle, and quickly unthreaded it, sending it the other way so the loose end would be on the outside instead. “Try that, but you want to keep your arms out a bit more, anyway. And we can order a different pack that doesn’t have any buckles there, just elastic.”
She nodded and took it back, slinging it over her shoulders with ease. Her breathing was back to normal too.