by Tiffani Lynn
Leslie, Joe and their nine-year-old daughter, Frannie, arrive later this evening for both Carlin’s birthday and Rushton’s graduation and are staying with us. We’re all excited to see them. So much has changed since I first met them and I laugh sometimes at the fear I felt at that first encounter.
Now that the dishes are put away and all the kids are in bed, I can do my second favorite thing with my husband: nothing. After the kids go to bed every night, we’re on the couch together binge-watching the latest Netflix series. I like watching TV, but this is more about the quiet time with Jase. He always sits so I can lay my head in his lap and he can run his fingers through my hair as we watch the shows. This is so relaxing for me, a time where I can just enjoy some time with my husband with no obligations.
Over the years, Jase has done everything he said he would. He’s given me the family I always wanted, he’s brought me peace I never knew existed, and he’s made sure that every day I know I’m loved and cherished for who I am.
Rushton
Two years later…
I call Uncle Dex to give him my pilot training graduation date and he gets really quiet. Misunderstanding what he’s thinking, I say “Uncle Dex, I know you have your hands full so if you can’t make it, I understand.” I would totally understand; I mean, he has six kids, and all of them except little Eden, are into sports and activities. I get that he doesn’t have enough time to even breathe, much less travel to Arizona for my graduation, but I had to at least ask.
Since my mom married Joe, he and I have grown pretty close. He ended up being a great friend, full of guidance and wisdom during some difficult teenage years and I appreciate that more than he could understand, but he still isn’t my dad. The closest I’ve got to my dad is Uncle Dex and I really want him there to pin my wings on for me. It’s an important day, and his support would mean so much.
He clears his throat several times and I hear his voice break a little before he says, “Rush, I wouldn’t miss that day if I were on my death bed. I’m so proud of you and I know Stu would be too. I’ll be there. I’ll probably have the whole herd too because the kids always want to see you, but even if we don’t all come, I’ll be there. I promise.”
Closing my eyes tight to battle the tears that fill them, I breathe deep for a couple of seconds to get control. “Thanks, Uncle Dex. It means a lot.”
“Yeah, for me too, kid. Text me the details and I’ll be there.”
One month later…
Thank God the Air Force encourages a big family celebration at the completion of pilot training, because I’m not sure I could’ve kept any of them away. I swear I have the biggest group here for this ceremony. There are 18 if I include my two best friends from high school that showed up at the last minute. Uncle Dex, Marina and their six kids, Mom, Joe, Skylar, Frannie, and my grandparents from both sides, all flew out here for this and are taking up a huge chunk of seats in the back, left-hand corner.
When it’s my turn, they announce my name and I walk up to stand in front of the flag, facing the audience filled with family and friends of our graduating class. A bunch of obnoxious cheering from the back corner drowns out the speakers so I miss the first few words of what the announcer says, but I hear, “Pinning his wings on today is his uncle, Purple Heart recipient, former Army Sergeant Jasen Dexter.”
The announcer goes on to say a few more things about my upcoming duty station in Georgia, but I tune him out. I can’t concentrate on anything but the pride in Uncle Dex’s eyes as he accepts the wings and works to put them on. The whole time his mouth is tight, an attempt at hiding his emotional reaction. I’ve seen that expression a lot from him over the years.
When he’s done, he lightly pats the wings and looks me dead in the eyes, his filling with tears and says quietly, “I know he’s here with us and he’s even more proud of you than I am.” His lip trembles a little and I’m left stunned as he turns and faces the audience so a bunch of pictures can be snapped of us.
In all the years I’ve known him, Uncle Dex has never cried in front of me. Not at any of the memorial services for my dad, not when he moved to Colorado, not ever in my presence. Seeing this unhindered show of emotion leaves me hanging on by a thread myself, and I’ll be glad when I’m not standing in front of all these people.
As the weekend comes to a close and everyone is in the parking lot saying their goodbyes, I stand observing the chaos around us. All the people I love who have supported me all these years are preparing to go back to their everyday lives. For me, this whole weekend has been about my past and my future coming together in a collision of understanding and accomplishment. My dreams up to this point have come true and now I realize it’s time to dream new dreams and have new wishes, and one of those is to find what my parents had with one another and what Dex has with Marina.
I have my education and my career, but now I want to find the kind of happiness that can only come from having a family of my own. Uncle Dex found that not only in Marina but also in Andrew, Amanda, Belinda, Carlin, Damaris and Eden, and according to him, in a man-to-man conversation we had in private, he also found those things in my sisters and me and the Rivers family too. I want to wake up every morning like him and know without a doubt I found my heart.
Before they load up to leave in their SUV, Uncle Dex calls me to the side. When we’re far enough away from nosey eavesdropping ears, he steps in a little closer than normal, places his palm on my shoulder and looks me in the eyes. I take a deep breath because I know something big is coming. Dex talks more than he used to, but he’s still a man of few words.
“You’ve been a man for several years now, but you’re finally out of school, ready to start your life and your career. There are women out there who’ll be interested in you only because you’re a hot shot fighter pilot. Choose carefully. Look for someone genuine, look for a pretty face if you want, but make sure she has a beautiful soul to match that. Your instincts are good, follow them and don’t stop until you find the right one.
“I’m proud of you, kid, and even though you’re a grown man, I’m always only a phone call away. It doesn’t matter what branch you’re in, military life can be hard. I may not understand specific circumstances that you find yourself in, but I understand you and I’ll always be here for you.”
He hugs me and strides away before I can say another word. Jasen Dexter is the greatest gift my dad could’ve ever given me and I’ll never forget to be thankful for what he’s brought to my life.
The End
Coming in August 2017
Finding Passion - Colorado Veterans Book 3
Also by Tiffani Lynn
Love, Lust & Life
Chapter One: Lizzie
Stretched out on the lounger by the pool in my little, red bikini, I’m trying to soak up the last bit of sunshine and warmth I can before I head back home to Chicago on a late afternoon flight. I decided a nice quiet vacation in Miami over Valentine’s Day would be exactly what I needed, and I was right. Between my friends and their super romantic plans with lovers or husbands, and the latest attempt by my parents to set me up with another boring politician, I decided escaping town for the week was a great idea. As I contemplate having to wrap up in a winter coat and boots again, someone stops right in front of me. I open my eyes to identify the person about to get my wrath for blocking the last of the golden rays I get to experience for a long while and am taken aback by the broad shoulders and trim waist outlined by the sun. As I sit up, a deep vibrating masculine voice queries, “Can I join you for a second?”
Stunned by his forward nature, because men don’t usually approach me, I slide my sunglasses on top of my head and bring him into focus.
Green eyes, like the grassy meadows in Ireland, are trained on me, taking note of my reaction. He smiles at me while I gape like a fish out of water.
“I’m Beckett,” he states, then pauses, obviously waiting for me to reciprocate with my name, but I’m frozen for a few seconds. My eyes rake over his short d
ark hair, the playful dimple in his cheek and his small straight nose. Before I can move my assessing eyes lower, my brain finally snaps in to place and I respond, quiet and unsure, “I’m Lizzie.”
“Nice to meet you, Lizzie.” His voice rumbles through me and the panicky sensation I get around men bubbles to the surface. I reach over and pull the towel folded on the small table next to me over my exposed mid-drift to cover my naked skin. Wearing this bikini wasn’t an issue when I thought no one was looking.
“I’ve been watching you since yesterday. I’m sorry if that sounds creepy, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m wondering if I can take you to dinner tonight?”
I breathe a sigh of relief as I realize I have an easy out. “Thank you for the invite, but my flight leaves in four hours. I’m trying to catch a few more rays of sunshine before I head back.” I give him my best apologetic smile and wait for him to leave. He surprises me with a bigger grin, like he understands I’m nervous and likes making me that way.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Lizzie. If you change your mind and decide to extend your vacation, please let me know. I’m in room 823. The offer doesn’t expire.”
He’s so charming with the one-dimple-smile and unbelievably handsome, too. I’ve never seen shoulders as broad as his in person and the muscles in his arms are defined, but not like a body builder. More like a man who works hard, doing physical labor every day. I can’t understand what he’s doing over here talking to me. Beckett could be a rugged male model. His high cheek bones, long dark eyelashes, and perfectly arched eyebrows make him appear as if he just stepped off of the cover of a romance novel. It’s very intimidating for a plain-Jane kind of woman like myself.
“Thank you, but I have to be back at work by tomorrow morning, so unfortunately, this is the end of my vacation.”
He flashes me one more smile before he gets up and struts away with more confidence than an Armani model at the Paris Fashion Week. The muscles in his back ripple and flex as he moves and my swimsuit bottoms dampen at the thought of him without his swim trunks. I drop the towel back on the table and pull my sunglasses back down to cover my eyes, hoping to mask the fact that I watch as he rejoins a group of men all about his age. He’s obviously taking a ribbing about me shooting him down. Instead of appearing angry though, he turns to glance at me one more time, shares a sexy grin and leans back in his chair, leaving his masculine chest and six pack on display for me.
****
Hours later, I’m sitting in the lobby of my posh Miami hotel, staring at my phone. My flight was cancelled due to blizzard like conditions with no option to re-book until the storm is over. According to weather reports, that could be up to 48 hours. What the hell? I have no idea why I didn’t check the weather this time of year, since I’m returning to Chicago, a place notorious for bad weather. I stand and pull my suitcase up to the desk and question the clerk, “Can I rebook my room? My flight was cancelled indefinitely.”
A mask of concern slips over her face as she replies, “Ms. Martinson, the hotel is booked solid tonight. I think everyone had the same issue you did. Let me make some calls to other hotels and see if we can get you booked.”
“Oh, I can do that myself. I’m sure you’re far too busy for that,” I tell her.
“No, no, no. I’ll be glad to help you. Give me a few minutes. Why don’t you have a seat at the bar and I’ll come find you once it’s done? I’ll keep your suitcase, too.”
“Well, I could use a drink, so I’ll take you up on that.
Thank you for your help.”
Ten minutes later, I’m halfway through a Long Is-
land Iced Tea when someone props up against the bar next to me. I glance over and blush when I realize it’s Beckett. My heart flips and my stomach drops when he flashes me a wicked grin. “Snowed out?” he asks.
I tilt my head wondering how he would know that. As if he understands my unspoken question, he answers, “One of my buddies was flying to Kansas City and had to come back from the airport because his flight was cancelled. That’s the only reason I can figure you’re not on your way back home by now.”
I sigh. “Yes, I should have looked at the weather and left a day early, but I was too busy enjoying the Florida sun. I’m screwed. I’m going to be so far behind at work.” I take a slug of my drink in a very unladylike fashion.
“So where are you staying? My buddy is crashing with one of the other guys since there are no rooms available.”
“I don’t know. They’re calling other hotels to find something for me. I can’t believe this. I feel like an idiot.”
He reaches over and pushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and I involuntarily shudder. His lips kick up on one side. “So, can I take you to dinner once you’re settled in your new hotel?”
“Um, I… I…” I stutter as I attempt to get the right words out.
Men make me nervous; I’ve never been able to keep my cool around them. It’s not that anything major happened to me I was just awkward and shy through middle and high school when other girls were dating and learning how to deal with the opposite sex. My thick, dorky glasses, buck teeth, and knobby knees did not make me a candidate for anything but teasing. The men I’ve been around socially since I grew up always seem to be the same kind of man. Arrogant, selfcentered, and slightly obnoxious. I have no interest in wasting my time with people like that so I don’t.
According to my parents, I should’ve been married off to some big-time banker, or senator, or something by now. I just happen to be terrible with self-centered jerks, so I stopped accepting date requests a long time ago to avoid the embarrassment that came with that stuff.
Before I can finish my response, the desk clerk approaches me with a look of dread on her face. “I’m sorry, Ms. Martinson. I can’t find a single hotel with a room available. Between the flight issues and a dance convention in town everything is full. I didn’t try any one or two-star facilities, but I can. I didn’t want to do it without talking to you first.” Dread settles in the pit of my stomach. I’m not a snob by any means, but staying in a sub-par hotel in a sketchy part of town by myself sounds like a terrible idea.
I tap the bar behind me. The bartender glances up at me as he continues filling a beer stein. “Can I have a double shot of tequila?”
He nods once and pours it, setting the lime and salt next to it. I shake my head and slam the double shot back relishing the burn as it travels to my stomach, before I turn back to the desk clerk. “I can get online and book one of those. Thank you so much for your help.”
She appears uncertain, and I know it’s because of my status, my family, that she’s afraid to upset me. I’m not like them, but their reputation is known far and wide as snobbish, entitled, and privileged. They’ve also stayed here before so she’s likely encountered them. I’m glad Beckett didn’t ask my last name. The knowledge might have sent him running before I got one of those smiles.
“It’s okay. I appreciate all you’ve done. I can handle it from here.” She nods as she chews on the inside of her lip. I flash her a small smile to reassure her. She turns and strides back to the reception desk.
I look back up to find Beckett still standing there with the same sexy smirk on his face. “Ready for a solution?” He rests both his elbows on the bar, laces his fingers together and I can’t help but follow the motion. He has large, rugged, real-man hands. The kind you want to caress you from head to toe in the dark of night.
I know I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself. I take another swig of my drink. “What kind of solution?”
“You can let me take you to dinner and then you can share my room.” The look on his face tells me he thinks this is a seriously viable solution. My mouth drops open, and I’m sure the look is similar to the fish gape I had by the pool earlier in the day. He doesn’t break eye contact, and I realize the light green polo he’s wearing makes his eyes more lethal than before. I bet this guy gets whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. He’s that hot.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t even know you. You could be a serial killer, or a rapist, or something along those lines,” I argue.
“You’re right, I could be. But I’m not. I’m a building contractor, not a serial killer. I’ve never had to force a woman to have sex with me. If fact, I don’t even usually initiate sex.” His smile never leaves his face, and I’m mesmerized by the combination of his eyes and smile and that damn dimple.
“Come on, would you rather attempt a one-star motel in a shady part of town to avoid dinner with me, or stay in this lovely establishment where you’re safe and have dinner with me. I promise not to bite.”
I pound the rest of my drink, lick my lips and reply, “What happens if you decide during dinner you don’t like me? I won’t have anywhere to stay and it’ll be weird.” That’s a real possibility if you look at my previous dates over the years. However, the liquor is already running through my veins full throttle, and I realize my inhibitions are dropping because it suddenly doesn’t sound like a bad idea anymore. This is why I rarely drink.
I tap the bar again requesting a single shot this time. The only way I’ll be able to make a decision, the one I really want to make, is by loosening up further. When I’m done Beckett pierces me with his eyes. “If dinner doesn’t go well, I’ll find somewhere else to stay and you can have my room.”
There is no way this guy is for real. I blink at him a few times while I process what he said. Between the alcohol and the idea of sleeping in a crappy motel, the choice is easy.
“Okay.”
“That’s a yes?” he probes.