For Love of Valor: A Bad Boy Military Romance

by Samantha Westlake

  I turned over these thoughts for the next few days. That love settled into my chest like a constant little flame, ever-burning and driving me to work harder at my recovery. I focused all my efforts and energy on that recovery, to the point where a phone call caught me entirely by surprise.

  "Teddy!" I exclaimed when I answered, fighting the slight raspiness that remained in my voice, even nearly three weeks after the accident. "What's going on?"

  "I'm just calling about our monthly lunch," my brother replied, sounding almost refreshingly normal, unhampered by any of the drastic changes that had so thoroughly rewritten the flow of my life. Of course, for Teddy, things just went on as normal. His older brother continued to be unpredictable, his younger brother continued to refuse to take responsibility for any of his actions, and he kept working at his job and pretending that his trust fund didn't exist.

  "What about it?"

  "Well, it's supposed to be tomorrow, but I haven't heard anything from you. Sebastian never picks up my calls, so I can't rely on him for answers. Is it still happening?"

  I hadn't spared a thought for our monthly Stone brothers lunch, but I suddenly found myself needing to see Teddy again, to ask him for advice. Surely he, as the most organized and composed of the three of us, could offer me advice on how to handle this new and confusing situation. He wasn't married, but he'd been in long-term relationships before, rather than dashing from fling to fling like Sebastian.

  "Yes, let's make it happen," I decided.

  "Great. Same place as last time?"

  I started to say yes, but then changed my mind even as my lips shaped the word. "No, let's go someplace more casual," I corrected myself. I thought back to a local deli that Linda had shown me, early on when we first started seeing each other. "Do you know Cecil's Deli?"

  "I'm sure I can find it. But really, a deli? Not some fancy place with cloth napkins and thirty dollar appetizers?"

  "Cecil's," I repeated firmly. "I'll make sure to bring Sebastian, especially since I can't drive."

  "Right, I heard about the accident." Teddy hadn't stopped by to see me, but he sent a card and a stuffed bear, which felt like a nice gesture. He wasn't very good with emotional stuff. Now that I considered it, none of us really had a handle on emotional challenges. This was the glaring weakness of the Stone family, it seemed. "You going to make it there?"

  "Yeah, I'll get Sebastian to drive me. I'll see you tomorrow, Teddy."

  Teddy paused before hanging up. "You sound good, brother," he finally remarked before disconnecting.

  I paused for a second afterwards, smiling down at the phone. It was good to talk with him again. And surely, tomorrow, he'd be able to help me with this newfound problem of love. Teddy always knew what to do with women.

  The next day, Cecil's Deli proved to be just as I remembered it, cozy and comfortable with its linoleum floors, Formica tables, and the smell of delicious smoked and roasted meats hanging in the air. Sebastian sniffed at the sight of the interior, holding his nose in the air, but Teddy looked intrigued by the laminated paper menu with dozens of food options for under twenty dollars.

  "And this place is good?" he asked in surprise, when we joined him at a table.

  "Linda showed it to me," I nodded.

  He frowned in incomprehension. "Linda?"

  I opened my mouth but paused, not sure how to explain. "Richard's crush," Sebastian jumped in for me, rolling his eyes. "Doctor, old like him, but she's sassy and nice, at least. They were dating for a while, but broke up, but she's been taking care of Richard since his car accident." He turned to face me. "What's going on with you two, by the way? Not that I want to know the dull and dreary details of your slow, vanilla sex life, but are you two back together?"

  "Actually, that was something where I wanted your help," I said. I hadn't meant to address this so early in our conversation, but it seemed appropriate now that Sebastian had brought up the topic. "I don't know."

  This time, it was Teddy who frowned from the other side of the table. "You don't know?" he repeated. "How do you not know? You either are together, or you're not."

  "She won't tell me! I ask her, and she just smiles and kisses me!"

  "Sounds like a yes to me," Seb muttered into his menu.

  Teddy ignored him. Instead, he looked steadily at me, putting his menu down flat on the table. "What do you want, then, Richard?"

  I knew exactly what I wanted. I surprised even myself, however, with how easily the words rolled off my tongue. "I love her."

  That shut them up. Even Sebastian didn't have a flippant retort to that.

  The waitress, a young girl who popped bubblegum in her mouth as she took our orders, stopped by the table. Teddy kept on frowning at me in disbelief, even after she brought us waters. Seb had started to order a Bloody Mary, but I cut him off and asked the waitress to bring him a soda, instead. I didn't even want to smell booze, hadn't thought of it a single time since the accident.

  "You love her," Teddy finally repeated, as if he was certain that he'd heard me incorrectly.

  I nodded. "And I don't know what to do. I can't just tell her, and I don't even know what she thinks of me. What if I spill the beans and ruin everything?"

  "It's tough," Teddy agreed, but Seb snorted loudly.

  "What, really?" He looked with dismissal at us both. "What are you both talking about? The answer's obvious."

  We both looked at him and waited, but he just sat there, taking a sip of his soda. I opened my mouth, but the waitress returned with a large tray of dishes, setting down our food in front of us. Stewing with irritation, I fought my impatience and waited until she'd given us our food and departed. Only then did I finally burst out at Sebastian.

  "What's the answer!?" I snapped, unable to believe that he'd made me wait for so long.

  He grinned, showing that he knew exactly how badly his silence was pushing my buttons. "You don't see it?"

  When I just glared back at him, Seb turned to Teddy. "How about you, Mister Long-Time Single Man? You see the right answer for this?"

  Teddy sighed. "Just say it, and stop torturing us."

  "Aww, you two are no fun." Seb reached down and picked up half of his massive Reuben; Cecil's served their sandwiches with at least a full inch of roast beef or pastrami piled high on the caraway seed bread. He chewed for a moment, reflecting, and then swallowed. "Good choice of restaurant, Richard. This is delicious."

  "I'm about to swat it out of your hand if you don't stop fucking with us," I growled at him.

  "Oh, fine." He took one last bite, and then put the sandwich down. "You love her, right? Like, really love her? Want to see her get old and wrinkled along with you, and you'll still somehow be able to get it up and fuck her?"

  "Sebastian!" Teddy gasped, horrified.

  "Yes," I said.

  "But you don't know if she loves you back."

  "No."

  "So then you're an idiot who can't see it."

  "Ye-" I stopped. "What?"

  He rolled his eyes. "She's moved in with you, and is spending her every free second taking care of you. She looks at you like you're the only person in the world who really matters. Hell, she cooks for you and brings it upstairs to you so that you can eat in bed like a damn invalid. Obviously, she loves you – you're just too blind to see it."

  I stared at him, speechless, as he took another bite, savoring the mouthful as he chewed. "The two of you are both idiots, because you both love each other but won't see it in them," he finished. "As they always yelled at us in the Army, just pull the damn trigger."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  RICHARD

  *

  I sat through the rest of lunch and turned over Sebastian's words. He said more, and Teddy talked about his work trips, but the words barely registered to me.

  I loved her, and she did love me back. How had I been so blind as to not see it before now? How had Sebastian, of all people, realized this before me?

  But now that I saw it, I could
n't stop thinking about it. And as I tucked into the delicious deli food, sandwiches and coleslaw and homemade pickles, a plan began to form in my mind.

  As my plan grew, however, I realized that it wasn't as straightforward as I first hoped. If I had any chance of pulling this off, I was going to need to employ some subterfuge. It started with pulling Sebastian aside after lunch and bullying him into running a few errands for me. He tried to resist, but I kept pushing, fueled by a newly kindled fire, and he finally gave in and agreed to help.

  When I got home, I greeted Linda, told her that yes, lunch with my brothers was great – and then swiped her phone from her for a few seconds as soon as her back was turned.

  Callie. That was the name of her best friend. She'd visited a couple times in the hospital, although we never spoke directly. I found Callie's contact information and quickly copied the number down, putting Linda's phone back before she noticed its momentary absence. Then, heart in my throat, I texted Callie, introducing myself and asking her for a favor.

  It took a few more messages to convince her that I wasn't some random creep, that I truly knew Linda. It took even more messages to convince her to help me out by getting Linda out of the house for the rest of the day. "She's going to hate me for it," Callie texted. "And if you're going to do what I think you're going to do, you better be damn certain that you've got your mind one hundred percent made up."

  "I do," I texted back.

  For several minutes, I saw nothing. Once or twice, dots appeared to suggest that Callie was typing something out, but they always vanished without any message appearing. I was about to give up and try to find a different approach when, finally, my phone buzzed.

  "Fine," she sent. Just the single word.

  And sure enough, about twenty minutes later, Linda came upstairs and popped her head into my room.

  "Are you awake?" she called softly, seeing me sitting in the bed.

  "Yeah, I am." My voice had gotten better, but it still carried a slightly grating undertone, one that I suspected might never go away. If that was my only lasting reminder of that car crash, that night that had proved to be the single lowest point of my life, I'd be happy. "What's up?"

  "I got invited out by my best friend, Callie," Linda said, moving in and sitting on the bed beside me. Just being this near her made me ache to sweep her up in my arms. I wanted to apologize ten thousand times to her, somehow convince her to stay with me in the bed and get rid of our clothes together, make love for the rest of eternity. How had I thought that she was plain and uninteresting, just because she didn't have the figure of a voluptuous pinup model? Her personality radiated out, making her more real, more attractive, than anyone else could ever become to me. No supermodel in the world could hold a candle to her beauty. "Will you be alright on your own for a few hours?"

  "Of course I will," I reassured her. "You deserve to go out. Have fun, and don't worry about me."

  Her face brightened slightly, but she still looked concerned. "Are you sure? I'll be home for dinner, but I don't want you to think that I'm abandoning-"

  God dammit, I couldn't resist any longer. I leaned in, gazing into her big eyes, her face that conveyed such warmth and caring, more than I ever deserved. I leaned in almost all the way – but paused, waiting to see if she'd come the last fraction of an inch to meet me.

  She did. Our lips met, the first real kiss since that night when she left me. My feelings, already booming in my chest, amplified by a thousand times. I could have sworn that I heard bluebirds singing inside my head, my heart swelling up until it felt as though my entire body would burst into flames of pure emotion. The mental voice of Sebastian mocked me inside my head, but I didn't care a single iota.

  The kiss was soft, tender, and I didn't push her further. It only lasted for a few seconds, and my heart cried out when we separated. I wanted to kiss her forever – but for my plan to work, she needed to leave.

  "I'll be waiting for you to get back," I told her, smiling as I looked into her face. "Don't worry about me."

  She hesitated a moment longer, but she was smiling. "I'll be back in time for dinner," she repeated, lingering for a second longer, her eyes taking me in, before she left the bedroom.

  I waited, listening to her get ready in her room, the retreating sound of her steps descending the stairs. I moved to the window, keeping just far enough away from the glass so that she wouldn't spot me from outside. I watched her climb into her hatchback and turn the engine over, driving carefully away down the freshly plowed and shoveled driveway of the Stone mansion.

  Once I knew that she wasn't turning around to retrieve something that she might have forgotten, I leapt into motion. I climbed out of bed and, ignoring the ache of muscles still sore and weak from many days of disuse, I headed into the bathroom and started going about the long process of cleaning myself up.

  First came the shower. Then trimming nails, both on hands and feet. Scrubbing away built-up dirt, leaving my skin feeling fresher than it had in weeks. Shaving, working to get all the difficult stubble off my face and neck. Trimming my shaggy hair; I didn't have time to go get a full haircut, but I could clean it up. Combing, deodorant, cologne, and fresh clothes. It took time, but once I finished, I felt like a new man.

  I then faced my next obstacle – the stairs. Again, I hated how slowly I had to move, but I made my way down to the main floor without falling or otherwise injuring myself. I headed into the kitchen.

  For once, Seb had come through for me. I entered the kitchen to find several bags of fresh groceries sitting on the counter. I peered into the bags and smiled as I saw the ingredients. Carefully, not risking injury or a pulled muscle by moving too fast, I emptied the bags out onto the counter, lining up the ingredients and organizing them for the dishes that I planned to prepare.

  I always let Linda cook because she was, quite frankly, better at it than I was. Still, that didn't mean that I didn't know how to make some foods; the Marines did a great job of teaching me how to follow instructions, if nothing else. And what is a recipe but a set of instructions that yields an edible product at the end, if performed properly?

  As I stirred a large pot of bubbling, slowly reducing sauce, I heard my phone buzz again from the counter. I turned to look at it, and saw a new message from Callie: "Just finished. She's heading back now."

  Perfect. I was going to pull this off.

  I checked my outfit for perhaps the hundredth time, making sure that I hadn't accidentally dripped any stains on it. It was still clean, just like the last hundred times that I checked. I tasted the noodles, pulled out plates, began working to make sure that the pile of noodles, a little tower wrapped around a central meatball, looked as perfect as I could accomplish within the medium.

  I heard the front door open, and upped the clatter of pots and pans a bit more, making sure that she'd hear me. I finished topping the dishes with freshly grated Parmesan and Reggiano cheeses, and picked up the plates to carry them to the dining room table.

  Linda entered just as I lifted the plates. I saw her look around at the kitchen, her nose flaring to take in the delicious scents that came from the stove even as her eyes widened in surprise. "What's going on?" she exclaimed.

  "I made dinner," I answered simply, passing her a plate.

  She looked down at it, at the pasta tossed in homemade tomato sauce, the hand-rolled meatballs scattered throughout the noodles like children peeping out from beneath a blanket. "You did this?" she repeated, sounding stunned.

  I nodded. "Care to sit down?"

  She followed me into the dining room, still staring at the plate. It wasn't until I set mine down on the table that her eyes shifted back to me, and she took in my fresh suit, my shaved face, my clean and styled hair. "And you-"

  "Yes," I said. "I wanted this to be perfect."

  "Wanted what to be perfect?"

  "The meal, for starters," I answered, letting my grin spread. "Go on, taste it before it gets cold. I have no idea how it actually turned out, so
you have to let me know whether I've got a future as a chef - or if I'm stuck permanently as scullery boy."

  Linda rolled her eyes at my self-deprecation, but she picked up her fork and took a big bite of pasta and sauce. She let out a wordless murmur through the mouthful of food, her eyes rolling in her head.

  "Good?" I asked.

  She swallowed. "This is incredible!" Her eyes narrowed at me for a moment. "And yet, you made me do all of the cooking!"

  "I was injured!" I protested, laughing. "And to be honest, a lot of this is just from following recipes. I didn't come up with it on my own."

  "Well, it still tastes delicious," she insisted, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she looked at me. She took another bite, but that warm look remained, and I basked in it like a lizard in the summer sun.

  We talked during dinner, as we both cleaned our plates, but there was still another part of my plan. I suspected that Linda felt it, too, the tension hanging almost palpably in the air. I urged her to wait a minute for me as I picked up the empty plates and carried them back into the kitchen, putting them in the sink.

  I returned out to the dining room with a bottle of wine, retrieved from the refrigerator. I stood next to Linda and poured her a glass, although I didn't fill my own cup. Even now, the thought of alcohol held no appeal for me.

  "This is amazing," she said, reaching for the glass, but I laid my fingers gently on her wrist to forestall her.

  "First, I wanted to say something," I said, putting the bottle of wine down on the table. "Linda, having you here with me for these last couple weeks has opened my eyes to just how much I need you, how much I appreciate you..."

  I took a deep breath. "...and how much I love you."

  She understood. I saw it echoed in her eyes, reflected back at me even stronger, and she started to open her mouth. But I had to keep going, had to get through everything that I wanted to say before I lost my nerve. "You're the only one who makes me feel whole," I went on. "I know that, before, you said that I had secrets that I wouldn't share with you. Linda, I want to lay myself bare, tell you everything. I'll tell it all to you, as long as I don't lose you. Not again."