The Major's Welcome Home

by Tessa Bailey

  She listened to the sound of their labored breaths with exhausted fascination. Had she known the moment she saw Beck that he would be important to her? If she thought back, it seemed undeniable and he’d just proven it. Thoroughly. What would compare to this? This feeling of depleted exultancy? Nothing. He’d asked her not to worry about his leaving tonight and in her current state, she had no choice. She wanted to forget about it for the night, leave it in his hands. I know everything you need. Everything. The independent woman at her core loathed that sentiment, until it had been spoken by Beck. Now she loved it, because it went both ways. Hadn’t he said he needed her back in the bar?

  “Take me home,” she whispered, sighing when he kissed her damp neck.

  “I’ll always take you home,” he said. “But this time, you stay in bed with me until we’re both ready to get up. I don’t wake up alone this time.”

  It was an actual effort to nod. “Okay.”

  He lifted her onto the leather table where she curled up on her side as Beck went to retrieve their clothes. After treating her to the sight of him dressing, Beck replaced her panties, slipping her skirt back up her legs with a gentleness that made her chuckle after the way he’d just taken her. He watched her closely as she pulled on her tank top. As soon as she was dressed, Beck lifted her into his arms and carried her pliant body from the building.

  Beck glanced back at Kenna where she slept, her hair a dark, tangled mess on the pillow. The skirt and tank top she’d worn home last night were somewhere back in the living room, he reckoned, leaving her sweet body exposed on top of the twisted sheets. God, she was so damn pretty. If he didn’t think it would creep her out, he could watch her sleep for hours.

  How many times last night had he loved her? So many times it felt like a disjointed dream. Hands, mouths, Kenna’s screams, his answering shouts, the bed creaking. Those legs of hers. They’d been shoved open, wrapped around him, pushed up near her ears, bruised by the force of his grip. In the sunlight, those light discolorations made a hard lump form in his throat, but it eased upon remembering her encouragement. The way she’d begged for him to go harder. Harder.

  With considerable effort, Beck turned back around, hands clasped between his knees where he sat on the edge of the bed.

  Yeah. Saying the two of them had good chemistry was a woeful understatement. She was necessity now. His safe place, the keeper of his desire. And now that she’d let her guard down, he could barely keep up with the things she made him feel. Protectiveness, awe…happiness. At some point last night, when they’d been catching their breath, her soft voice had reached him across the pillow. Tell me about your peach farm.

  From that point on, they’d talked for hours about his time overseas, her love of welding, only stopping when his cock started to feel heavy, a condition she’d been all too eager to relieve. Just remembering her mouth skating down his torso was questioning his decision not to take her again this morning. Rolling her body over so he could get at that tight pussy.

  Damn.

  But no, he wouldn’t. Decisions needed to be made, and they didn’t have time to pretend his plane to Georgia wasn’t leaving bright and early tomorrow morning. He had loose ends to tie up before the ceremony tonight, Cullen and his sister to face. Confronting any of it would be impossible without the assurance that he’d have Kenna on the other side. His hands shook at the very possibility that he might not. That she’d wake up and throw her barriers back up, blocking him out.

  Beck heard Kenna shift behind him and turned. Ah, Jesus. He hadn’t been prepared for the sight of her smiling in the sunshine with bedhead, lips puffy from kissing. Beck’s heart started to boom just looking at her. She appeared to still be half asleep as she turned onto her back, stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “You were telling me about community peach-picking day.” Her voice came out sounding scratchy. “Why did you stop?”

  Not touching her felt unnatural, so he reached across the bed and ran his fingers over her hip. “That was hours ago, darlin’. It’s morning now.”

  “Oh.” One eye popped open, followed by the other. “Oh.”

  At her guarded tone, his mouth set itself in a grim line, hand dropping away from her warm skin. “You want to talk before or after breakfast?”

  “There’s a talk. I knew there’d be a talk.” She sat up, propping herself against the headboard. “You don’t waste any time.”

  The sight of her pointed nipples became too much for his sanity, so Beck stood and paced away from the bed. “I have to say my peace now, or I’ll just climb back on top of you and forget my responsibilities. Forget everything but you.”

  She slid her hands over the sheets. An invitation. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Beck cursed, wishing for once that his body wasn’t susceptible to every move she made. “I’m leaving tomorrow, Kenna.”

  Her beautiful face paled. “We always knew you were leaving.”

  “Is that your way of saying things haven’t changed since day one?” The scar tissue on his right side started to throb. “Because you’re going to need to be more convincing.”

  “What do you want me to say?” She shouted the words, then drew back, looking surprised at her own outburst. “I did as you asked. I didn’t think about it last night, but last night is over. I don’t know what you expect to happen next.”

  Beck shook his head, taking a measured step in her direction. “Last night might be over, but we’re not.” It hit him full force exactly what he had at stake here. His girl. The girl he wanted forever. So he’d fight and fight hard, just like he’d been taught. She was scared—he could see it in her wary expression—so he needed to be strong enough for both of them. “We have two options here, Kenna. You come with me back to Georgia. Or I stay here.”

  Her green eyes went wide. “What?” She gained her feet, taking the bedsheet along with her and wrapping it around her body like a protectant. “I-I can’t…you can’t—”

  “I can. I will.”

  Just like their last morning together, he saw the bomb about to go off. Saw her frantically scanning the contents of her mind for something to distance him. Too bad it wouldn’t work this time. He knew her now, knew her faults and insecurities and treasured each one individually. She could say any damn thing she chose and he would stand firm.

  Beck saw the moment she realized it, too, because her features transformed with panic. “Maybe the only reason I hooked up with you was because it was temporary. Don’t you think you’re taking the whole morning afterglow thing a little too far?”

  “No.”

  A beat of silence passed. “No? That’s it?”

  “Yeah.” He advanced on her, catching her before she could trip over the sheet. “Here’s what we’re going to do now. We’re going to knock off the bullshit. You understand?”

  Kenna scoffed. “Yes, Daddy.”

  She’d meant it to sound flippant, but his dick didn’t think it was funny. Not after she’d been screaming the title just hours ago as he ate her pussy. Before he could explore his own mind, she was pinned to the wall, his jeans the only barrier between her heat and his erection. It relieved him to a startling degree when some of the fight left her, a small moan passing her lips. “You want daddy, you’ll get me, but you’ll hear me out and give me an answer first.”

  Her stubborn mouth snapped shut, eyes firing bullets at him.

  “My body reacted to you first. I won’t lie. But my heart followed a minute later and I was yours. Yours to keep. There is something good and strong between us, and I’m not giving it up.” Her eyes softened slightly, forcing him to beat back the urge to kiss her and forget the argument. “I will take you to Georgia and give you a home. I’ll make a place for you to build your statues. I will fuck you every night and love you as much as you can stand, Kenna Sutton.”

  When he finished his speech, her eyes were full of tears, but he knew with absolute certainty she wouldn’t let a single one fall. It didn’t bother him one bit, though. Her p
ride was one of the reasons he’d fallen for her.

  “Beck.” Her voice wavered. “I don’t know how to belong to someone. I don’t know how to have someone belong to me.”

  Her words flayed him alive, but he forced himself to step back, letting her slide down the wall. “I know what I’m asking. It’s a leap of faith, and I won’t force a decision out of you right now.” Hating the distance he had to put between them, Beck backed toward the door. “I need you at the ceremony tonight. Can you give me that?”

  She nodded vigorously, but her gaze was on the floor. “I’ll be there.”

  Before he left the room, he stopped in the doorframe and waited for her attention. “Two choices, Kenna. Let me know which one it’ll be. Tonight.”

  He left the apartment, praying like hell his gamble would pay off.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Kenna paced outside the packed auditorium. She had to be out of her damn mind coming here, dressed like some kind of teenage debutante. Her feet were light without combat boots to anchor them down, her body felt somehow more exposed than usual in the knee-length white lace dress. She tugged the secret flask from her purse and took a belt of whiskey, hoping it would calm her cartwheeling nerves, to no avail. Georgia. She was going to Georgia.

  After Beck had left this morning, she sank into a hot bath and sat there until it went cold. Then she’d made spaghetti for breakfast and brought it in a bowl down to her workshop. About an hour had passed before she realized she hadn’t picked up a single tool. Or taken a bite of the spaghetti. She’d been in shock. She could count on one hand the times she’d felt wanted or important in her life. Most of them had come in the last few years via Darla. Once or twice while her father had been recovering from the heart attack, he’d let her see his appreciation for her help. But being on the receiving end of Beck’s proposition this morning had thrown her like a paper airplane into a tornado.

  Snippets of their night together had started to trickle in once the shock wore off. Beck had called her nurturing. At the time, she’d found it ridiculous. Now, though? She wondered. Why had she stuck around Black Rock so long when—at age twenty-two—she was free to go anywhere? When she could move her business wherever she decided to live?

  Was she waiting around, hoping her parents would need her? Hoping they would forget the past and include her in their new lives? The time she’d spent aiding her father’s recovery had pulled her off the path of destruction she’d been intent on traveling, giving her a reason to shape up. But what if her apparent caretaker nature was doing more harm than good now? Every day that passed without word from her family felt like a physical blow, felt like being abandoned all over again for something better. Brighter.

  It stopped now. What she felt for Beck was scary, especially after such a short space of time. It fluttered wildly in her stomach, begging her to climb over her mountain of fears and slide down the other side, right into his open arms. Yes, there was a part of her that wanted to heal Beck’s wounds, soothe his soul. That newly admitted facet of her personality asked to be fostered. Beck recognized that part of her and accepted it, so long as her need for him ran beneath it, true and straight. And it did. She needed to be with him so badly, it sang in her ears like whistling wind.

  You’re here to take the leap. There would be no backing out now…and hell, she didn’t want to. She couldn’t wait to see Beck’s face when she told him. Couldn’t wait to be held against his chest, hear his heartbeat. Kenna popped a breath mint into her smiling mouth and clicked in silver high heels toward the auditorium entrance. When she opened the door, she heard Beck’s deep voice coming from the stage and her heart carried her toward the sound she craved. She stopped just inside the back exit, pleasure settling in her middle at the sight of Beck in his dress blues, speaking from behind a podium. She’d never seen him in this capacity, commanding an entire room and yet, it didn’t surprise her. Their eyes met and he stopped speaking, his throat working as he perused her from head to toe.

  A man seated behind Beck on stage cleared his throat, obviously prompting the major to keep going, which he did a moment later. “It is with gratitude that I accept this Silver Star. Men who came before me—good, self-sacrificing men and women—have accepted this honor and I can only hope to live up to their legacies.” His eyes found Kenna’s, as if garnering strength. “But I’ll be accepting it on behalf of Xander Gibbons, and I’d like this medal to go to his family. He wasn’t the only soldier who gave his life that day so I could stand before you here, but he was one of the best men I’ve ever known and his name should be remembered.”

  Kenna caught Beck’s subtle nod to a dark-haired officer standing off to the side. The man she’d seen with him at Bombs Away. Just as he’d been last night, the man appeared to be losing a brooding contest with himself. The lines of his handsome face were drawn taut and even across the distance his eyes looked bloodshot. She returned her attention to Beck just in time for respectful applause to break out and him to exit the stage. He stopped to clasp his friend’s shoulder and say something before moving toward the double doors that led to the surrounding hallway, the same one where she stood, but he would be emerging around the corner and down a corridor. She started to back away from the crowd, intent on meeting Beck, but she saw him pause before leaving, watched his face register surprise.

  To his friend’s right stood a pretty blonde she hadn’t noticed upon arriving, but the woman looked familiar, nonetheless. Too familiar. It only took Kenna a split second to remember the picture she’d seen in Beck’s wallet. Mary. Beck’s ex-girlfriend, Mary.

  An invisible fist closed around her throat, cutting off her oxygen. Her legs began to shake with the urge to run as fast as she could. It would be over now. Look at them. They were a ten-year age progression of the homecoming king and queen. Stupid perfect. Mary had her hand on Beck’s arm, big, bluebell eyes pleading, white teeth flashing as she whispered to him.

  Kenna could feel the cool air from outside drifting in through the doorway behind her, enticing her to leave. Not yet, though. Once she saw it done, she could bail and bail hard. Audience members had started to take notice of the golden couple, watching them curiously, but Beck led Mary toward the exit, stifling the disruption.

  Kenna drifted in their direction.

  Jesus, this couldn’t be happening.

  He’d walked off the stage, raw from revisiting the tragedy that had taken Xander and wanting nothing more than to soak up comfort from Kenna. Seeing her appear in that doorway, dressed like an angel, had given him the strength to get through the acceptance speech. Her answer had been written on her face. Yes to Georgia. Yes to him. Yes to everything. The beating organ in his chest had swelled to the point of bursting, so full, so grateful.

  Out of nowhere, Mary had appeared. Confusion had stopped him in his tracks, followed by a brief flash of nostalgia. Not because he had any lingering feelings for Mary. He hadn’t for a long time and now…now he couldn’t fit a single damn thing around what Kenna made him feel. No, Mary’s appearance had made him think of the past. A time when things were simple and he didn’t know what it felt like to lose a friend. Lose a battle. But she belonged in that time. The past. Not here and not now.

  That’s when panic had hit him. The glow on Kenna’s face had dimmed and he could feel her slipping away bit by bit, all the way across the auditorium. Now he stood in the empty hallway, Mary crying and imploring him…for what? He couldn’t hear her over the roaring in his ears. He needed to go after Kenna, but his feet were cemented to the ground. With absolute confidence, he knew if he turned the corner and saw she’d run away, he would break. Wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not after having their future right there, in the palm of his hand. Her trust issues, her fear of being abandoned, couldn’t handle this yet. With more time, he would have gotten her there, but it was too damn soon for this.

  Mary gripped his arm and he wanted to jerk away. No one touched him but Kenna.

  As if he’d called her name out loud,
Kenna rounded the corner and stepped into view. The mere sight of her quieted the ceaseless wail of sound drowning everything else out, allowing him to focus. My girl is so beautiful. So hurt when there’s no reason. Couldn’t she see the gaping hole in his chest where she fit so perfectly?

  Focus. He hadn’t lost her yet. She was still there. The possessive beast inside him demanded he storm toward her, shake her and kiss her until she stopped looking so devastated. Her loss of hope was an insult to that ferocious part of him. Logic, however, managed to wedge its foot in the door. She needed time to reason this out. This moment was equally important to both of them. He needed her trust. She needed to learn how to give it.

  “It’s just…you were gone so long. I couldn’t just wait around, getting older.” Mary sobbed into the sleeve of her coat and Beck felt a pang of sympathy. He harbored no ill will for her. They’d been children with grown-up plans, and he didn’t fault her for not wanting to put her life on hold for him. “But I know I messed up bad, Beck. When I heard you were coming back, I thought maybe we could have a second chance.”

  Beck didn’t answer. Every ounce of his energy and attention focused on Kenna. Come on. Remember what I promised you. Did she think he’d said those words this morning on a whim?

  Beck’s reality shifted when Kenna took a step toward the side exit, her gaze bouncing back and forth between him and Mary. She placed a hand on the steel exit bar and his blood went cold. No. If she left now, he would never convince her of his intentions, the truth of his feelings. It would start a pattern and they’d never break free. The rush of sound in his ears started again—

  Kenna dropped her hand from the door, saying something under her breath, and Beck’s pulse heated back up, started to race. When their gazes met, he saw bravery there and wanted to shout at the ceiling. Thank God.