by Lyz Kelley
“Habit. I get tired a lot, and I’ve learned to push through it. Besides, I’ve never been able to sleep more than a couple of hours at a time.” Habit and nightmares. Nightmares of bullets whizzing by my head, the panic of being pinned down by enemy fire, the spooked look on my buddy’s face when I close my eyes.
“Sleep is good for the body. Unlike carbs.” She pointed at his empty plate. “Has anyone told you your blood sugar is high?”
“No. Why?”
“Because you smell sweet, and you look like you’ve been having headaches. You should have your blood checked.”
“Now that you mention it, you might be onto something.” He’d received a message to report into medical upon his return and wondered how the two pieces of information correlated. “And you don’t think you should go into the medical field?”
“I’ve been thinking about our nursing conversation. Nursing doesn’t feel right, but homecare is starting to become more appealing.”
Bummer. A thread of disappointment stitched its way through his body. “It’s good you’re assessing your options.” From the refrigerator, he pulled out a carton of eggs and an English muffin. “How about I fix you an egg sandwich to go?”
“First you put my stuff together, now you want to fix me breakfast? Are you real? Should I pinch myself to be sure?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
But it was a big deal. He’d never wanted to cook for anyone before, but he’d cook for her. He’d do a lot of things for her. For the first time in his life, he wanted to put another person first. He liked the satisfying feeling. He wanted to give her a lot of things, but giving still didn’t mean she needed what he offered. What did he really have to offer?
“Stupid,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Who’s stupid?” Ashley asked.
I am, for thinking someone like you could need me. “No one,” he said.
She walked to his side, lifted to her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re sweet. Breakfast sounds great.”
When she took a step back, he intended to let her go, but his arms reached out and snagged her wrist. Her questioning eyes met his. Gently, she cupped his face in the palms of her hands and gave him a slow, I’m-in-no-hurry kiss.
He leaned back. “You sure we can’t be a few minutes late?”
“You’ve got a point. Life is way too short.” She leaned in.
When their lips connected, a fiery heat made his mouth tingle like barbecue hot sauce, all tangy and spicy. Her tongue caressed his lower lip, and then she sucked it into her mouth before she released him and drew back.
“Woman, you’re going to kill me.” She changed her mind as fast as she changed clothes, and he couldn’t keep up.
“You talk too much.” She tugged at the top button of his jeans.
Those beautiful, sexy eyes wiped out his self-control. He lifted the edge of her T-shirt and slid his hands higher to cup her breasts and brush his thumbs over the tips.
A soft, sexy moan drifted from those kissable lips. He lifted her to the kitchen island and then pulled the cotton shirt over her head. He went for her hardened cherry nipple.
“Chase? We don’t have a lot of time.”
Fully prepared in case of a yes, he fished a condom from his pocket, pushed his jeans down to his ankles, and rolled on the latex.
She reached down to tug his shirt up and off. “Don’t think. Only action, soldier.”
The statement made him pause because all he wanted was to think. Think about protecting her. Making sure she was safe—safe from him. When her words sank in, he started to lean back, but her fingers had a lock on his shoulders.
“Ash—”
“Don’t you dare waste one more second with thinking or talking. Sex. Now.”
He’d give her what she asked for, but it wouldn’t be sex. Following her command, he stretched her underwear aside and sank in deep.
“Yes.” She breathed a sigh and wrapped her legs around him to pull him closer.
How had she taken the tough career soldier and softened him, making him want simple little boy things again—like being held and cared for and loved?
This wasn’t sex.
It wasn’t even close.
He wanted to show her, demonstrate how making love wasn’t sex. He wanted to knock her off her axis like she’d done to him. Show her a Marine could be more than a walk-away guy. He wanted to stick like he wanted her to stick.
The trust in her eyes made him want to give her everything. And he wanted her to feel his love—like a boy who draws a special picture for his mom. A gift. A special gift, meant for hanging on the refrigerator, not thrown in the trash.
He trusted her and wanted to give her anything she asked. Him. Deep.
Her eyes, full and excited and intense, reached in and squeezed his heart. She ran her teeth along his jaw, and he rocked his hips forward, again and again and again, until she arched back with a groan.
“Chase. Harder. Please.”
Oh, baby. Harder he could do, and with a please and thank you. He cupped her bottom and tilted her to a better angle for full penetration. Her mouth moved to cover his nipple, and she sucked and nibbled harder.
“You are so beautiful.” His voice held an urgent gruffness. “I want you. All of you.”
“Chase, you so got me,” she murmured against his skin.
His mind went completely silent. No shouting voices. No machine gun fire. No training steps rattling off in his head. She made the noise go silent. Only she existed. Her warm curves in his arms. Her hot breath on his skin. The soft whimpers in his ears. She made him forget, and made him feel like he was the king of the mountain, like nothing or no one could touch him but her.
“Hold on tighter.” He braced her against the counter.
Her fingers pressed into his back. “Yes, that’s it. More.”
Her legs tightened and she breathed his name on her exhale. He watched her take his offered pleasure. He’d never seen anything more erotic or precious. She rocked back into him, her breasts touching his skin.
“Come with me,” she demanded between short, sweet breaths.
No need to ask twice. He thrust deep and let go of everything he held back and captured his piece of heaven.
She slumped against his chest. “We’re going to be late, but that was worth it.” She turned her head and clumsily gathered her shirt. “I’d better go shower,” she relayed on a short breath.
“Offer still stands.”
“Oh, no. You’re like my favorite cookie dough ice cream, only you’re an endless supply of sweetness with no calories. Now I know how scrumptious you are, you’ll be impossible to avoid.”
His face stretched into a grin as big as a dinner plate. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Seriously?” Her body language indicated she wasn’t quite done with him yet, and he could hardly wait to find out what was next.
“How about I make you that breakfast now?”
“Sounds perfect. I need a cold shower. I’m a bit overheated.”
“I forgot to tell you, I found a large package on the doorstep. It’s over there. It looks like it’s from your dad.”
“He sent them,” she uttered in disbelief. “He sent Mom’s letters. Is there a card?”
“Not that I could find.”
“There’s always a card. Would you mind loading the box and Lucky in the truck? I can open the box on the way into town.”
He hoped whatever the contents, the stuff wasn’t set to detonate her emotions and send her into another tailspin. He wasn’t sure she could handle much more.
Ashley could have been knocked over by a puff of wind. First it was Chase’s mind-blowing sex, and then her dad had sent her mom’s letters.
In her dad’s truck, waiting at the river bridge for a stoplight, she showed Chase the card.
These are yours to do with whatever you like. I’ve scanned copies. It’s important for you to have the full
story.
Ashley dropped the note back in the box. Frustration and confusion fisted her hands. “What does he mean by that?” A ball of uncertainty lodged in her throat. “Maybe I should call him.”
Ideas danced in her thoughts, swaying, skipping, sashaying, as she tried to make sense of her father’s message.
Only a few minutes late, Chase drove up next to the school’s loading dock. Jenna was there, probably checking her cell phone for messages and dancing on her toes, waiting for their arrival.
“Our table’s already set up.” Her slight irritation and the lack of hello made Ashley cringe. Jenna plucked the first box from the truck bed.
Ashley grabbed the next box. “Sorry we’re late. Chase had a hard time getting the dog to go potty.”
“Nice cover. But your just-got-lucky glow doesn’t help support your bullshit story.”
Busted.
“She has a point.” Chase shrugged.
Her eyes narrowed. “Whose side are you on?”
Chase didn’t respond. His gaze was locked on the traffic jam of artists trying to get inside to set up. Lucky leapt from the truck bed, refusing to be anywhere Ashley wasn’t. He wobbled momentarily to gain balance, but placed full weight on the injured hind leg.
“Did you see that?” Ashley remarked.
A thrill of seeing Lucky’s progress buzzed through her chest. She turned to share the excitement with Chase, but he was walking backward, his gaze locked on the parking lot.
Entering through the double doors, she followed Jenna. Chase lagged behind. Dozens of tables and chairs were butted up against the high school gym bleachers. Rachelle hadn’t been joking about maximizing booth space and expecting record numbers. Reaching the designated table, Ashley set the stacks of items on the floor. Lucky leaned into her leg, not liking the noise of the crowd.
Chase set his boxes on the floor and, without a word, walked back toward the door.
Jenna leaned into Ashley. “Is Chase all right?”
“I think so, why?”
“I don’t know. He seems a bit off.”
“Lucky is agitated as well. I brought him today to start socializing him. There are more people here than I thought. I think I’ll ask Chase to take him home.” Ashley reached down and gave the dog a good scratch behind the ear. “You’re a good boy. As soon as the truck’s unloaded, I’ll ask Chase to take you for a W-A-L-K.” Lucky tilted his head off to the side in that normal shepherd way. “I’m getting the feeling you’re so smart you’ll be spelling soon.”
“I love the way he looks at you.” Jenna lifted the tablecloth and pointed at the space beneath. “He might feel safer under the table.”
“Good idea.” She squatted and guided Lucky under the seven-foot folding table.
“I’ll be right back. I want to go get a stack of those brochures before they’re gone.”
Jenna walked away. Lucky circled under the table, then curled into a tight ball on the floor, his expectant gaze watching every movement.
“Have you seen Chase?” a feminine voice asked.
Ashley lifted her head and peeked over the table…and about choked.
She hadn’t figured it possible for Rachelle to lose track of any man, but obviously her boobs hadn’t bounced off the chest of a guy like Chase.
“He should be back shortly,” she offered, using the fewest possible words to complete the most amiable possible sentence.
“Good. I was going to ask for his help with moving some tables.”
Rachelle scanned the jar- and bag-filled table. “I’m out of luck. No cherry jam this year.”
Ashley couldn’t guess how Rachelle might have come to that conclusion, since the woman’s delicate nose was lifted so high into the air.
“There’s cherry.” Jenna’s syrupy-sweet voice intercepted the conversation, as if she’d thrown a football right through the opposition’s hands. “I haven’t had a chance to set it out yet.”
She placed a box on the floor and a stack of fliers on the table.
Suddenly, a loud crash made heads rotate towards the commotion. Two adolescents stood stunned, with guilt oozing off their bodies. Each boy looked at the other, hoping either could explain why the art display now lay scattered and broken, and the handcrafted items were spewed across the floor.
Lucky launched to his feet, the folding table lifting as a result. Both Jenna and Ashley reached for the table at the same time, intent on rescuing the shifting items.
“Whose dog is that?” Rachelle’s manicured finger pointed. The sour grapes expression on her face meant any response wouldn’t result in a pleasant outcome.
“Well, you see—”
“He’s mine,” Chase said in such a commanding tone, the three women stopped and turned.
Rachelle folded her arms under her breasts, making them swell. “Yours?”
“Mine.” He stepped closer, so close Rachelle had to tilt her head back. “I just came to get him.”
Rachelle’s bullying brow raised. “You get that dog out of here now before I call the sheriff and have him impounded.”
Ashley gritted her teeth and squinted at her nemesis. “On what grounds?”
“Animals are not allowed in public buildings. That includes high school gyms. Besides, I’m sure that dog is the mutt you rescued. I can also have my brother check his records. If you haven’t purchased a license, that will be an additional fine.”
A low, rumbling growl began and grew louder when Lucky pushed from under the table and hovered a couple of inches from Rachelle’s thigh.
Ashley froze at the shock of Lucky’s menacing bared teeth. Rachelle slipped behind Chase for protection.
A look of amusement crinkled around Chase’s eyes. “Looks like the dog took an exception to your threat, Rachelle.”
“I’m going to have that dog put down.”
Ashley pulled on Lucky’s leather leash, and the dog automatically quieted and sat—his eyes intent, watching.
Chase turned and let his height do the intimidating. “No, you’re not. And you want to know why?”
Rachelle’s eyes turned black with rage. “Why?”
“Because you may like playing the town bitch, but under those layers of nasty thoughts and statements, you’re a kind person. But you don’t want anyone to know it.” He leaned in, almost to the point of touching noses. “But I see it. So why don’t you do us a favor and let me take Lucky home so you ladies can get on with selling your crafts?”
Ashley held her breath, wondering which way her nemesis would jump.
Rachelle took a step back. “You have five minutes to get that dog out of this gym.”
Chase didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. He engaged the tenacious blonde until she turned and walked away. Victory. Ashley released a heavy sigh.
“That was exciting,” Jenna said. “I’m going to go get the rest of the stuff from my Jeep. Will you be okay for a minute?”
“More than fine.” Ashley gave Lucky an ear massage to assure him he’d done the right thing. “Aren’t I special? I had two guys coming to my rescue.”
“You didn’t need rescuing,” Chase responded, “but I had a hunch I could ease the tension a bit.”
“Do you believe what you said about Rachelle? That somewhere underneath all her bitchiness is an actual person, not a demon in disguise?”
“Yeah, I do. There’s a girl like her in every town. She spends most of the day in front of the mirror, trying to convince herself she’s special. She’s no different from you or me, but she hasn’t figured it out yet.”
“Figured what out?”
“That when she gets out of this town, she’s nothing more than another woman among three hundred million people.” Chase’s fingers brushed hers and took the leash from her hand. “I’d best get Lucky situated.”
“Can you secure him in the truck and then come back? I’d like to show you something.”
Chase nodded and stepped back with a tight, serious expression she couldn’t quite
read. He led Lucky to the bottom bleacher step, and waited patiently for the dog to maneuver the stairs before guiding him across the wooden slat toward the door. The kindness and patience he demonstrated brought a lump to her throat. She had honestly never met a more heroic man.
She closed her eyes and listened to the powerful beat of her heart. The pulse pounded in her ears, her chest, her hands, as a reminder that she lived. The sounds of the Christmas music coming through the loudspeakers matched the rhythm, becoming stronger, louder. Joy lifted her spirit. Her heart had begun to heal. Chase’s presence had helped her find a way to put the little shards of her life back together again, so she could move on and begin to dream, and look toward the future.
“What are you smiling about?” Jenna shoved a small box of baked goods into her hands.
“I was dreading Christmas. Maybe it won’t be so bad this year after all.” Ashley loaded the table with more silverware crafts.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Marine, would it?”
“Maybe.” A tingle floated across her skin. A sure sign she’d blushed Santa-red.
Jenna gave her a nudge. “You should see the smile on your face.”
“Stop it. We’re keeping it simple.”
“Simple, huh? Well, that’s a good thing because look at the people coming in the door. This place is going to be packed in a minute, and you won’t have anything else you need to think about to distract you.”
“Oh, my.” Ashley began reorganizing the display table, adding the new items from the box and avoiding Jenna’s scrutinizing eyes.
Jenna bumped her shoulder to get her attention again. “Remember those red pumps? The ones you didn’t buy when we went to Vegas for your twenty-third birthday?”
“The ones I went back to get and they were sold out of my size? I searched the internet for months trying to find the same pair.”
“Yep, those are the ones.” Jenna’s brow lifted. “Chase is like those shoes. I’m thinking you might regret keeping it simple.”
She really had wanted those shoes. But Chase?
To be part of a healthy relationship, she needed to be whole. And she wasn’t. Not yet. The urge to get settled and understand her past pulled, and pulled hard. She wanted to unlock the answers to her parents’ secrets. Find answers to the questions her mother had refused to discuss, and her dad had never been around long enough to ask.