Steel Rain: A Military Romance Collection

by A. Gorman

  He steps forward with a hand out as the baby kicks again, but he turns and clamps down his emotions so quickly it’s as if he wears a mask.

  “I do trust you,” I blurt.

  Caden was Justin’s salvation as much as Justin was mine, and I’ve no misgivings about his best friend. As much as I’d like to blame someone, he’s not the reason I’m about to become a single mother. My anger is spread out at the world because I’m wadding in unfamiliar waters without an anchor.

  “Come here.” I take his fingers and bring them to the baby, pressing them against the slim barrier of fine cotton. Our eyes fix together as we wait. Warmth spreads under the contact. Other than the OB/Gyn office staff and hugs from Cara and her mother, I’ve not had much physical contact. This is different, more intimate as we share a moment meant for a ghost rather than him, but it’s good, and I’m happy Caden can experience it in Justin’s absence.

  “Damn,” he says, tugging away at the first kick.

  I bring his hand back because I can tell Wrestle Mania is just beginning when the baby reacts to his voice.

  “I think he likes you. Talk to him.”

  His brow crumbles. “What do I say?”

  “Anything. Tell him about your day. Lord knows he’s probably anxious to hear someone else’s voice instead of my singing.”

  Caden tugs at his lips with his other hand, and drops to his knees with a startling gracefulness for a man nearly as tall as my ceilings. He looks up, catching my eyes with his steely stare. “This okay?”

  I nod. “Go ahead.”

  As I say it, the baby jabs him again and he smiles. “Hey, little guy. Be nice to your momma; she’s doing a lot of work for you right now, and she will your whole life too.”

  Another punch is like a high five and the two get into a back and forth about Caden’s cross-country drive and finding Gus. At the mention of his name, the pup joins in, and Caden lifts him for a playful paw at my belly. For the first time in months a smile that is more than skin-deep peels up the corner of my mouth. I relax, holding my lower back as Caden enjoys interaction with his new best friend. Emotion clogs my throat and I look away, blinking back tears that constantly threaten. I refuse to cry. I won’t. I’m hell-bent on celebrating Justin’s life and the baby he gave me. Tears have no place in our party for three.

  Activity dies down a minute later. Caden stands with Gus under his arm and what looks like the weight of the world on his shoulders. I’m not the only one who loved Justin.

  “Thank you for that,” he says, pointing to my stomach. “For allowing me to talk to him.”

  My heart breaks a little more when his eyes glass over. “I’m sorry I maimed you with muffins.”

  He swallows and then chuckles, rubbing his chest. “Not the first time a lady has taken offense to my presence. But you’ve got the best arm by far, sunshine.”

  “Mind your manners and I won’t have to wield my wares against you again.”

  “I’ll do my best. Truce?” He holds out his hand, this time for me and not the baby. I take it. Engulfed by his huge grip, the same warmth I felt earlier tickles up my arm. I catch his eyes and hold them as regret rolls through my stomach.

  I think of words spoken as truth—an echo of the soul. But I had no right to hurt him with my fucked up voice of reasoning. I miss Justin, but not at his expense.

  “I’m more than sorry about what I said earlier. It was mean and wrong on so many levels.”

  He balks and tries to pull away, but I hold on, keeping him in place only because he lets me.

  “I wish you were both here. Justin idolized you, Caden Lawless. You’re the person who gave him hope and for that, I’ll be forever grateful.” As he nods, I whisper, “Truce,” and release our connection. “It’s getting late. I take it you’re staying for the night?”

  His smile brightens the room, and next to Gus, the two of them shine a new light on what has been a dull place. “You catch on quick. I’m not leaving.” He looks around with his brow cocked. “But we’ve got to work on the living arrangements to make this relationship work.”

  I brush past him on my way to the fridge, pulling out leftovers from lunch with Cara. My stomach tightens as I stand and turn to find him staring at me. He looks a bit lost and maybe like he has the flu, although exhaustion from the drive is more likely. “I’m sure you’ll find a nice place to settle into—in town or with Cara. Here.” I hand over the ham sandwich. “I’ll put sheets on the couch while you eat.”

  “Thanks.”

  And that’s it. In a matter of minutes, the state of my life changes again. I have a roommate, at least for the night.

  MORNING COMES faster than any other in recent memory. The baby and nagging thoughts keep me up most early A.M. hours, but I slept well. I stretch through a welcome kick and rub my hand over my bump and murmur my love for him. I can’t wait to see his face. The only thing keeping me going lately is the excitement of meeting this little guy, and expanding my world to include the joy of new life in one that has been tiring and at times unforgiving.

  I’m not in the mood to decipher feelings. I peel back the sheet to pee—something I do often, although surprisingly, not at all last night. Exhaustion won over my biological needs, so I roll out of bed and waddle as fast as my girth allows to the small bathroom next to my room to take care of business and make myself presentable.

  I’m pleased as I look in the mirror, finding the dark rings under my eyes are less noticeable today. I shower quickly, shaving as much as I can reach, and take care of all the pesky morning rituals like brushing teeth and blow-drying. I open the door to fresh coffee. It smells delicious, maybe more so because I didn’t have to make it. This roommate thing might not be so bad after all. I’m pinning my hair in a messy bun as I walk into the living room and then stop dead in my tracks.

  Lit by a small light in the kitchen, Caden sits in an open space next to the couch with a sleeping Gus by his side. His feet are tucked up onto his thighs in a yoga pose seemingly impossible for his large frame to capture with as much elegance as he displays. He’s perfectly still—eyes closed, hands resting on his knees, fingers pinched through meditation. An angry scar on his neck mars his skin, but adds to his appeal in a way hard for me to understand. He’s beautiful, and guilt for thinking so works my stomach into a knot. I slide my gaze to his bare chest. The smattering of light brown hair that covers from nipple to nipple is broken by tattoos and his dog tags, waning in a trail to pajama pants that are much too low to be decent.

  I shake my head to adjust my thoughts. Yesterday, Caden was the last person I’d wanted to see. Today, I’m enjoying the fuck out of the picture-perfect sight before me. And that sums it up; one decision changes lives. One act, one moment, alters the course of many. Caden’s arrival on my doorstep maneuvers me onto a rocky highway and I’m not sure of the destination, but I’m pleased to take the road trip. He’s a much-needed diversion. I could use a friend, and who’s a better option than the man Justin called his brother?

  Before I can take a step, Caden jerks his head and grimaces. It’s painful to watch as his breathing falters and his eyes snap open. Disoriented at first, he tracks over every part of the cabin in a split second. And then he spots me and his shoulders relax. A smile spreads across his stubbled jaw. “Morning, sunshine,” he says, unwrapping himself to stand, a tower of maleness and hard muscle.

  “Hi,” I mumble and cinch my robe tighter, hoping he won’t notice my breasts. They’re suddenly achy, not so unusual for nine months pregnant, but the pang is enough to force heat to burst on my cheeks.

  “You’re up early.” He looks out the window at the darkness that has yet to see the markings of a new day.

  “So are you. A byproduct of your trade?” I ask, heading to the counter and coffee.

  “Something like that. Sit.” My head jerks up as Caden barks the order, but it’s softened by a tender look at my stomach.

  “I’m not your dog,” I mutter but refrain from further argument when
he smirks and points. If he wants to wait on me, I’ll accept. I shuffle over to the same place he ate dinner last night at the kitchen island.

  With his back to me, he pulls out two cups and pours what he already brewed. I train my vision on Gus by his feet; he’s much more G-rated than the SEAL covered in black ink ending above a very tight ass. We’re going to have to establish a dress code if he plans on staying.

  Whoa. Where did that come from? This is a one and done sleepover. He’s off to Cara’s tonight for a bed not a couch, for family not a forced commitment to a friend’s fiancée.

  “How do you like it?” He holds up the mug, and I get stuck on his voice. It’s thick molasses, and now that I’m not pissed off and reeling from seeing him in my house, I recognize how it sinks in and tingles all the way to my toes. He’s definitely got to go.

  “Black, thanks.” I wrap my fingers around the cup he sets in front of me, enjoying the heat as it combats the constant chill in the cabin.

  “What’s your excuse for a five o’clock wakeup call?” he asks.

  “I have to get to the bakery.” I point to the mounds of muffins and cookies and sweets that remain boxed post my Caden attack.

  “I wondered about all the sugar, but then I thought women eat a lot when they’re making a baby. A bakery makes more sense, though.”

  He smiles, and I sip the stiff brew. It’s stronger than I normally make, but better too. I like it. “It was Cara’s idea. She thought Lilyfalls needed some early morning love in the form of pastries, so Dax funded the endeavor. Cara uses the kitchen in the shop. I make the special orders in the evenings and carry them over in the morning. It’s a good arrangement. I’ll be able to stay at home with the baby and the days I’ll work the counter, your mom offered to watch him.”

  Mentioning Caden’s family brings his brow down—not the response I’d expected. I had thought they were close, as close as they could be when he spent most of his time in California or overseas.

  “That where you got this?” he asks, turning to the state-of-the-art range to heat a pan.

  I glance at his rounded ass, totally missing the shiny new oven as he moves to slide two slices of bread in the toaster. He and the range stick out like sore thumbs in the rundown room. I look at the old, threadbare lace curtains hanging on the window. What was white is now a putrid ugly yellow from too many years in the sun and so much easier than Caden Lawless to look at. Sweat breaks out on my forehead. It must be the coffee. It has to be from the steam.

  “It’s on loan from Dax. I took a pie to Christmas dinner last year, and we cooked up the shop design and layout over dessert.” Their generosity still astounds me, along with their willingness to embrace a newbie into the neighborhood and love me just because Justin did. “Dax bought the old penny candy store in January and converted the space before spring hit. We opened three weeks ago.”

  Caden nods, leaning against the counter and once again my gaze is stuck on him. “Good to hear he finally found a use for his dot-com money and something to keep my sister out of his hair.”

  “I hope it becomes a good investment for him. We’ve done well so far.”

  It’s rude to stare, so I focus on Gus and his sniffing hunt for fallen food. But Caden turns to the stove to make eggs, allowing me a reprieve from ogling, or just the opportunity not to get caught doing it. His back is smooth but for cut bunches of muscle that roll and dip in all the right places. I’m not so stuck on those, but the tattoos that cover one side of him from hip through to sleeve, leaving the other side as unmarked as it was the day he was born. Two sides of a coin, perfectly delineated by his spine. Angel wings and words, tribal markings and Celtic knots, all woven together in a masterpiece painted on his skin. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

  I swallow and tuck my chin to my chest, shocked by the increased speed of my pulse, my breath, and the stirrings of other long-forgotten human needs.

  “Eat.” Another one-word command from the master general, and my eyes shoot up to find the clear glass of his. He holds my gaze and slides scrambled eggs and toast in front of me.

  “You’re bossy,” I say, but pick up my fork anyway. Like the coffee, breakfast is delicious.

  “Why baking, Piper? Why Lilyfalls? Why Justin?”

  I stop chewing, startled by the deep concentration of his gaze on my face. “You’re also inquisitive,” I mumble through a mouthful.

  “It’s in my nature and makes me good at what I do. One mistake and people die.”

  His words sink like an arrow into my heart—his, too, if the faint flutter of his lashes is any indication. He sighs and rounds the island with his coffee, pulling the second stool over so he’s close enough for our arms to touch. I dive into my toast for something to do, anything to ignore the sparking knowledge that a half-naked, seriously cute guy is in my kitchen, sitting next to me as I eat his eggs. My compass is off track, and I’m headed in a weird direction.

  Caden bumps my shoulder. “Yesterday, you said you’re pissed at the world. Give me some of your universal truths. Why Lilyfalls, Piper?”

  I swallow toast and my nerves. He’s just a friend. I’ve been alone and without male company for too long. Dax doesn’t count because he’s a goofball and attached to my Lilyfalls best friend.

  I clear my throat and spill my life story. “I have a MBA, and I hated every second of every class I took to capture that damn piece of paper. My parents wanted it; I didn’t. My whole life I followed their path when I wanted to create, breathe life into the world through art. Painting was my passion. I’d sneak classes in as my electives. I loved it. When I graduated, my mom insisted I go home and marry Hershel Westbrook the Third and if I didn’t, I’d lose my million-dollar trust fund.” I shrug and turn to find his hand resting on his unpainted bicep, his chin resting on top of that with his turquoise eyes trained on me.

  “I was tired of living for them. So I declined their crazy scheme to meld my dad’s business with Westbrook’s through marriage and started driving. San Francisco wasn’t big enough to find separation so I kept going until I found a place I liked. And I liked Lilyfalls.” I smile at the memory. “I stayed in the motel on the highway for a few weeks, and then I found this place. You and Justin came home a month after I moved in and that’s it. I liked him, he liked my ass. History was made.”

  “Why don’t you paint, if that’s what you love?”

  I prop up my cheek with my hand. “Because it’s too expensive. Canvases aren’t cheap, and oils aren’t either. One day though. I have a whole lifetime to make beautiful pictures. Until then, I’ll use my creative genius to plump up the backsides of Lilyfalls’ residents.” He laughs as I ask, “What about you? Why the military?”

  “A lot of reasons, I guess. Opportunity, drive—the thought of sitting behind a desk repulsed me. I love my country and what it stands for, helping the underdog, making a mark in the way I know how. Getting Justin out of Dodge because he needed to leave, and this gave us a direction.”

  My heart sinks because I heard what I think was a watered-down version from the source months ago. “Was it bad?”

  Caden’s breath puffs out. “As bad as an abusive situation can get. His father whipped the shit out of him the night we graduated, for some asinine reason I can’t remember now. Justin was a big guy, but Mr. Weber was bigger and meaner, and when he drank he took out his frustration on his son. Justin started on alcohol, which we all did, so I didn’t say too much. But it led to pot, and then some other stuff that messed with his head something good. At that point I intervened, and twelve hours later we had enlisted.”

  One decision, one moment that altered the course of many. “Parents are real fuck-ups,” I say, rubbing my stomach at the same time.

  “Were yours?”

  I smirk and stare at my eggs. “They didn’t beat me; they ignored me. On top of being a mistake, I’m different. Pink hair, piercings, 80s pop-rock. I . . .”

  “Hold up. Piercings?”

  “A few.”

&n
bsp; “Okay, ears, bellybutton—are we talking body piercings?”

  “Do you want to hear the rest?”

  He sips his coffee, his eyes on me the whole time. But he nods for me to continue.

  “I hated my parents’ money and the false security of social status. Their answer to my rebellion—ship me off to boarding school. That’s where I met my best friend, Maisie. She’s the only person who really understands me, besides Justin, and he was short-term. A bright flash and gone.”

  “I’d like to understand you,” Caden says in a voice so deep I feel it spread through me, everywhere, in tingles.

  I glance up, and I wish I didn’t when Caden’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. The air crackles with tension between the ten inches separating his mouth from mine. Shit. My pulse speeds up, and I’m sure if he looks close enough he’ll see it pounding in my throat. His gaze narrows into something not at all friendly or brotherly, but scorching and predatory and nothing but heat. And I’m hot with a newfound flush.

  He shakes. A tremble crosses his shoulders and his eyes lose their crisp clarity for a snapshot in time. The stool pushes back so fast it tumbles to the floor with a clatter as he pops up and we both stare where it lands.

  “Eat,” he repeats his earlier missive as if the last ten minutes didn’t happen. “I’ll pack up the grocery store’s worth of baked goods you made while you finish breakfast and then we’ll go to town.”

  “Yes, sir,” I mumble and pick up my fork.

  “You’re getting the hang of this, sunshine. Let me fix things up for you and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” He tugs on my bun and then sets the stool upright before walking away.

  My appetite leaves with him. For a moment I got lost in his words, when I need to focus on the truth within them. I'd hoped we were in the beginning stages of friendship. But I’m not a friend to him. I’m Justin’s girl. And because Justin’s not here, I’m Caden’s responsibility. He said it once, and once is enough to believe it. Now it’s time he learns that I don’t need anyone.