I traced her cheekbone. “You are. You never stopped being my always. I just . . . got lost for a little while.”
“How do you know you won’t get lost again?” She caught the corner of her lip between her teeth.
“Because I found out you’re my beacon. You’re the light who guides me home, baby.”
She sighed then, relaxing against me. “I don’t feel like a very good beacon. I’m so mixed up half the time.” Her hands came up to grip each other behind my neck, holding on tight. “I think I made a mistake buying the practice. I realized over the last few months how much I really don’t like being a lawyer.”
“Huh.” I digested that for a few minutes. “So if you don’t want to be a lawyer, what do you want to do?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I have no fucking idea. Which, ironically, is why I ended up getting into law anyway. Process of elimination.”
“Well, what do you enjoy doing? What makes you happy?”
Her mouth twisted into a smirk. “The library makes me happy. The bakery does, too. Making cookies and pastries with Kiki and Sydney.”
A puzzle piece fell into place. “The cookies you made me today—did Kiki give you that recipe?”
“Yep. Actually, she taught me how to make them. Why?”
I shook my head. “They brought back good memories.”
“I’m glad about that. I was hoping they would.” She wriggled a little, her ass teasing against a part of my body that liked it a little too much. My dick hardened, pushing against the zipper of my jeans. Elizabeth froze for a minute, and then she arched her back, gazing at me upside down. Her gorgeous tits were thrust out in that position, and it took all the control I had not to roll her onto her back and take her, right there.
“I’ve missed this.” She spoke quietly. “When you left, my house was so quiet. So lonely. I missed talking to you, eating with you, just hanging out . . . but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you touching me, too. I’d lie in my bed every night and just ache.”
I pulled her a little tighter and angled my mouth to seal against hers. Our kiss was tentative and testing, but she opened to me and let me sweep my tongue over hers. I broke the connection just long to whisper in her ear.
“I ached, too. There wasn’t a minute after I left that I didn’t wish I hadn’t.” I settled her back against my chest, locking my hands around her waist mostly to make sure they didn’t go somewhere they shouldn’t. “I know we’re taking it slow, and I think you’re right. But even just being able to touch you like this feels like I’m in heaven.” We were both quiet.
The wind picked up a little, and a chill shook me.
“It’s getting colder.” Elizabeth pushed to sit up. “Maybe we should head back home. You’ve got to be exhausted, anyway, after driving eight hours today.”
“You’re not wrong. But hey, at least tonight I can sleep in a real bed. I won’t be sorry to be off that couch.”
She tilted her head at me in questioning, and I rushed to clarify. “I mean, I can sleep in the other bed now, since my mom’s not here.” I stretched, standing up. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to push you into anything, babe. I heard what you said about moving slow. Right now, I’ll be happy if you let me kiss you good-night.”
“Oh, I think that can be arranged. I might even be persuaded into some heavy petting.” She helped me fold the blanket and patted my ass as we went back to the truck.
“In that case, I might break some speed limits on the way home.” I shrugged into my shirt and boosted Elizabeth into the cab before I climbed into the driver’s seat. She slid over the bench to lay her head on my shoulder as we drove home through the dark. We held hands, and I sang along to a slow love song playing on the radio. Elizabeth sighed, her breath tickling the bottom of my jaw. I felt content. Peaceful. Maybe we hadn’t solved all of our problems yet, but I thought we’d made a good start.
And the prospect of another good-night kiss and maybe a little more, combined with the feel of Elizabeth’s body pressed against my side, meant I was primed for action by the time we got back to the apartment.
“Hey, who’s car is that out front?” I leaned forward, squinting. “Are those Virginia plates?”
“Oh, shit.” Elizabeth peered through the windshield and then scrambled to the other side of the truck. “Shit, shit, shit. They wouldn’t—of course they would.” She closed her eyes, pressing her lips tight together, then took a deep breath and looked over at me. “Listen, just follow my lead, okay? Go with it. And try not to freak out.”
“Why would I . . .” I stopped speaking when the doors of the car in front of us opened. From the driver’s side, a man in a uniform stepped out, just as a woman whose hair was the same color as Elizabeth’s emerged from the passenger side. I got out of the truck in time to hear my wife’s voice carry through the clear night air.
“Well, this is a surprise.” She glanced back at me, her blue eyes pleading. “Trent, this is my mom and dad. Mother and Dad, this is Trent. My husband.”
ONCE, WHEN I WAS A little girl, I’d asked my father what his job was. I knew he was in the Army, and I knew he went away a lot. But I hadn’t figured out exactly why or what he did when he was at work.
He’d thought about it for a minute, probably trying to explain the duties of a regimental commander to a six year-old. Finally, he’d said, “I take care of my men. I make sure they’re doing their jobs, and that they’re ready if we’re called into action.”
I’d considered that briefly. “But what do you have to do? Missy’s dad fixes cars. What do you do? What’s the most important part?”
Dad had grinned. “I have to make sure I’m never surprised. No matter what my men tell me, I never let them see me react. So that’s what I do. I work hard so that nothing surprises me.”
As I grew up, he proved to be a master at that job. I’d never said or done anything that had shocked my parents, or at least my father. And tonight didn’t prove to be any different.
I’d no sooner introduced Trent to my parents that my dad was reaching out for a handshake, as though he’d known all along that I was married. “Trent. Good to meet you. Elizabeth, give your mother a hug. She’s ridden a long way just to see you.”
My mom was hanging back, watching all of us, and I moved obediently to step into her embrace. I was a little taken aback when she held me extra tight and a bit longer than usual. She pulled back and searched my face, cupping my chin in one hand. “Look at you. You look wonderful! Doesn’t she look wonderful, Mitch?”
Dad was watching both of us. He nodded and opened his arms. “Of course she does. Elizabeth always looks beautiful.” He enfolded me in a hug, and out of habit I breathed deep, taking in his scent. It was a mixture of the cologne he’d worn for as long as I could remember, the starch of his uniform and something else I could only ever describe as eau de Army.
When I’d been very little, my mother had given me one of my dad’s T-shirts to sleep with whenever he was away. I’d never dealt well with separation; apparently, I’d missed the training that most other Army brats seemed to get in utero, the lessons that taught them to take in stride frequent deployments and months away from one parent or another. As I got older, I’d gotten in the practice of breathing in his scent every time he hugged me, just to remind me when he inevitably went away again.
“Uh, it’s very nice to meet both of you.” Trent spoke in his respectful voice, and I was grateful. “Why don’t we go inside? Elizabeth and I were just sitting out at the lake, and I think she’s pretty chilled through.”
Even if I suspected he might be putting on a little bit of a show for my parents, I appreciated how solicitous he was. And I was even more thankful for the hand he slipped into mine as we led my parents into the apartment.
“I know we should’ve called first.” My mother glanced at me. “Daddy had a meeting at Ft. Benning, and we decided to drive down from Virginia so that we could stop in Hilton Head for a few days on the way back. But then
we were so close to you, and it just seemed a shame not to stop to say hello.” She paused before adding, “Since we haven’t seen you in nearly two years.”
Ouch. I pasted on a bright smile. “Well, it’s been a busy time, hasn’t it? You’ve both been traveling, spending holidays with the boys.”
“And you’ve been getting married, apparently.” My father drilled me with the same look that used to bring me to tears. “Without telling your parents, let alone inviting them to participate in the wedding of their only daughter.”
And the hits just keep on coming. “It was a very quiet wedding. Just the two of us.”
“Uh huh.” My mother’s eyes swept over the tiny, dingy living room. “Then you moved to Georgia. We did appreciate you sending us your forwarding address when you left Florida.”
There wasn’t a good answer to any of these statements, so I fell back into my old familiar stand-by: ignoring whatever I couldn’t handle.
“Sit down.” I spread my hand over the dilapidated sofa. “Do you want some coffee? Or something else? Trent and I had sandwiches down at the lake, but I can whip up something fast if you’re hungry.”
“Coffee would be fine, thanks.” My father sat down, and unfortunately, he chose the end of the couch Trent and I knew to avoid, since the springs there were iffy and the frame weak. Consequently, he ended up sitting a lot deeper than he’d expected. I bit back a snort of laughter at the look on his face as he tried to right himself.
My mother, learning from his example, perched on the very edge of her cushion. “What a sweet little place, Bethie.” She cast a smile at my dad. “Reminds me of our first place, Mitch, outside Ft. Meade. Remember that? Every time I opened the oven door, the pilot light went out.”
Dad nodded. “That place sure was a dump.” But he smiled a little, too, which made his words sound more like fond reminiscence than complaint. “When MJ was born, we had to keep him in a dresser drawer at first, because we couldn’t fit the bassinette in our bedroom.”
I shook my head at the thought of my hulking big brother tucked into a tiny dresser drawer. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.” I took the few steps into the kitchen and pulled out the glass pot from our cheap little coffee maker.
“Bethie, huh?” Trent’s low murmur at my ear made me jump. “I like it.”
Rolling my eyes, I flipped on the tap and filled the pot. “Family nickname. No one calls me that but my parents and my brothers.”
He pushed my hair out of the way and pressed his lips, hot and coaxing, to the back of my neck. “I always thought you were more than just an Elizabeth. And hey, as your husband, I think I’m allowed to use family nicknames.” He skimmed his hands up my sides, his fingers teasing the undersides of my breasts.
I blew out a breath of frustration. “I can’t believe we finally get rid of your mother just in time to have my parents here. It feels like we can’t catch a break.”
“Hey.” Trent turned me to face him. “Elizabeth, it’s fine. They’re your parents, and they seem like great people. I think it’s kind of sweet they drove out here to surprise you.” He hesitated a few seconds before going on. “I get why you didn’t tell them we got married. I mean, I’m sure they wanted you to marry some doctor or another lawyer or maybe someone in the military, right? I’m not exactly wonderful son-in-law material. But why haven’t you seen them in so long?”
Scooping ground coffee beans into the filter, I shrugged. “I didn’t plan for it to happen, but it did. Like I said, they were traveling, and I couldn’t afford to leave the practice in Florida, not when I was struggling to pay everything off after Darcy.” I slid the filter drawer into place and hit the ON button. “And I don’t really care about what kind of son-in-law they expected. I chose you.”
Trent studied my face. “I want you to be able to be proud of me. To be proud of that choice. I don’t want you to regret it. Ever.”
I raised myself up and kissed his lips. “I don’t regret marrying you. And that has nothing to do with your past, your family or your job.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “It’s because you’re the only one who sees me the way I am and loves me anyway.” I paused. “Or loved me. Sorry, I’m not trying to rush us back into anything.”
“Elizabeth.” He stopped me from moving away. “Don’t be afraid of saying the words. I do love you. I have, since that first day when you asked me to dig through your purse to find your car keys. I fell in love with you that day, and every day since, I’ve only learned how to love you more. I was stupid and scared for a little while, but I never stopped loving you, even then.”
I couldn’t manage any words, but I nodded. Trent blew out a long breath. “Okay. I’m going to be a really generous person and share my cookies with your parents. I’ll put them on a plate, and you pour the coffee. Let’s get through this.”
And get through it we did. We sat in the living room—my parents on the sofa and Trent and I on cushions on the floor—and made small talk for an hour. My parents updated me on my brothers, their careers and their families. MJ and his wife had had their first baby, a boy, last fall, and my mother showed me pictures of my nephew on her phone.
“Trey’s such a good baby, and Courtney’s a wonderful mother. She and MJ love living in Germany.” She stared at the photo, her face turning pensive. “His next tour is in Korea, unaccompanied. He’s going to miss so much of the baby’s first year.”
“Now, Dulcie. Don’t get started on that.” Dad gripped her hand. “They’ll be fine. Don’t forget, Courtney and the baby are coming to stay with us for part of the time, so you’ll get all the grandma time you want.”
“I think it sucks.” The words shot out of my mouth before I knew what I’d said. “I think it’s horrible that MJ has to leave his baby and go off alone. Mom’s right. By the time he gets back home, his son won’t even know him anymore.”
My father shrugged. “That’s Army life. MJ knew better than most what he was getting into. It is what it is. The sacrifices of the family—”
“That’s bullshit.” A mix of rage and pain rose up in me. “I’m sorry, Dad. I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s true. All that crap about the military families being brave and making sacrifices? No one likes it. It’s not a noble, honorable thing. It’s painful, and it hurts the kids and wives and the husbands.”
“Elizabeth—”
“Do you know how hard it was for me every time you left us again? Did you even know? After all the hoopla of the goodbyes were over, did you know I’d cry myself to sleep every night for a month? And when I was little, and I didn’t understand yet that you’d be back, and I just stopped eating, did you have to deal with that? The boys were told they had to be brave and not show anyone that they missed you, but they did. Henry used to get in trouble for fighting while you were gone. And Mother—she’d shut down for days on end, so then I didn’t really have a mother or a father.” I sucked in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry. I know you were doing what you had to do, and I understand it’s the way it is. But we don’t have to pretend it’s some noble calling.”
I dropped my forehead onto my knees, willing the threatening tears to pass me by. I felt Trent’s arm encircle me, pulling me against his body, and I waited for my father to yell.
But he didn’t. Instead, I heard a choked sob from the other end of the couch, and when I glanced up, my mother was covering her face as her shoulders shook. My father glanced from her to me, his face troubled.
“Elizabeth. Bethie.” His voice broke, and then I was crying. “I never . . .” He stopped speaking for several beats, inhaling a deep breath. “I knew it was hard on all of you. I hated leaving my family, believe me. But it was what I had to do. It was my job. I made a commitment to our country, and it was one I had to keep. Still, I had no idea you were still so . . . troubled by it. By the time you were a teenager, my leaving didn’t seem to bother you anymore. I figured you were used to it.”
“I never got used to it. I just got better at hiding how I
felt.” I leaned into Trent, drawing comfort from his strength. All the rage was spent now, and only the grief remained. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I know you were only doing what you had to.”
“I was. But maybe I should’ve been more aware of how much it affected you. I’m sorry, too, Bethie.” He stood up and then knelt next to me, brushing my hair away from my face. “I’m sorry you were hurt, and that you felt like I was abandoning you. I can’t undo that now, but I can be better about listening when you need to talk about it. Is that a good start?”
I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Mmmhmmm.”
His mouth crooked into a half-smile. “And maybe you could come home a little more often, so your mother and I don’t have to chase you down.” He flickered his eyes to Trent. “I’d like to get to know my son-in-law.”
Trent tightened his arm around me and answered for both of us. “I think that can be arranged, sir.”
It was well after midnight by the time we all went to bed. Since there were no hotels anywhere near Burton, my parents slept in our extra bedroom, in the room Donna had occupied up until the night before.
Which meant that Trent slept in my bed.
We didn’t really have a choice, since my parents assumed we shared a bedroom, as most married couples did. And Trent and I did an admirable job of playing it off as though it was no big deal.
“I’m sorry.” I leaned against the closed door. “I didn’t think tonight was the time to share with my parents that maybe our marriage hasn’t been everything they think it is.”
“Hey.” Trent framed my face with both his hands. “It’s fine. Anyway, I hope they never have to know we’ve been anything but blissfully happy together.” He sealed his lips to mine, gentle and full of promise. “And I’m never going to complain about sharing a bed with you. Not that I expect us to do anything other than sleep,” he added, murmuring against my mouth.
Always My Own (Always Love Trilogy #2) Page 16