by Lyz Kelley
Another piece of his stone heart chipped away as he slid into her, into the place he needed, wanted, to be. He hadn’t fully realized she held his heart so tenderly until that moment. Being in her arms, surrendering entirely, without reserve, was the only place for him. She wielded the magic which had captured his soul. When she exploded in his arms, he couldn’t hold on and dove off the end of the world to fly with her. Their bodies pumped, and then surged, before riding the stream of moonlight coming through the window back to earth.
He rolled to his side and pulled her with him, refusing to let her go. She looked lovely in her satiated state. He’d risked driving an unfamiliar truck through a blizzard to get to her, but even a whiteout wouldn’t have prevented him returning. He’d set his heart’s compass to home. To her.
She had the most serene look on her face when her eyelids drifted shut and she dropped into slumber. Her ability to fall asleep thrilled him. It meant she felt safe, protected. He settled a blanket over them and snuggled her closer, letting her caressing hair fall across his arm.
She still hadn’t told him what had happened in the two days he’d been gone, but he could wait until tomorrow. He liked the sound of tomorrow—a promise of something more, something good…a future.
Chapter Nineteen
Chase awoke to a cold bed. He’d never been a heavy sleeper, and his mind had difficulty wrapping around the time on the clock beside the bed. Perhaps it was the sunlight reflecting off the snow-blanketed ground and bouncing off the ceiling of the room. He slid on a pair of jeans and went in search of his woman.
His woman.
The concept popped into his mind so quickly, fully formed, it made his breath hitch. But it felt right, down to his bones.
Lucky and the smell of bacon greeted him at the kitchen door before the sight of Ashley pummeled his senses. Rumpled from the night of lovemaking, she couldn’t have looked more scrumptious. She turned with tongs in hand. Her eyes flared and the tip of her tongue touched her upper lip, clearly communicating she liked the shirtless view.
Eventually, her gaze met his. “What woke you? The smell of breakfast, or Lucky chasing a squirrel off the deck?”
“Neither, actually.” He returned her undressing, intent stare.
Missing her body folding into his had woken him, but he didn’t know how to tell her without scaring her off or causing her to push him away. But he couldn’t help craving her touch, and moved close behind her. She must have seen the lustful look on his face because her white-knuckled hand, resting on the counter, gripped the pair of tongs so hard he wanted to take them from her.
Without touching her, he took in her musky smell and peered over her shoulder to watch the bacon splatter in the skillet. He wanted to turn off the burners, throw her over his shoulder, and race back up the stairs, but he needed to find out what was causing her tension. The bedroom would only put a Band-Aid on a wound which was obviously still festering.
The cup she’d assigned him still sat on the counter, so he went over to the coffee pot and poured. “What happened while I was gone?”
Her jaw muscle worked while she placed the bacon on a paper towel. She obviously wrestled with some inner demon, and he wasn’t sure which side was winning when she set a plate of bacon and egg sandwiches down in the middle of the table and took a seat.
Her features were closed and confusing, and he didn’t know how to get her to open up, so he walked over and set her cup of coffee in front of her. She examined the black liquid as if it would give her answers. He sat and waited for her to defeat the beast, or at least invite him in to do battle.
“I fixed my mother breakfast every morning,” she said.
“I’m sure she appreciated it.”
Ashley laughed. “Actually, no, she didn’t. She hated breakfast. I forced food on her. I thought she needed to eat. I tried eggs, cereal, yogurt, even health drinks filled with vitamins, but she refused food. We didn’t communicate well. Maybe that was my fault. Maybe that was her fault. But the fact remains…we talked, but never communicated. Ever.”
Chase shifted, attempting to figure out the clues to the riddle Ashley gave him, but not understanding the rules. Emotions rolled across her face, changing faster than bullets firing from an AK-47. He wanted to jump in and fight for her, but didn’t know the entry point.
He touched her forearm. “You did the best you could.”
Ashley snapped her head to him. “No, I didn’t. In my mind, my mother always made me feel like I wasn’t doing enough. Cooking. Cleaning. Finances. Wardrobe. Education. She was always pushing me to do more, and criticizing everything I tried. We fought all the time, and I couldn’t help feeling resentful. Just to be cruel, I wouldn’t respond when she called. Then I’d hate myself for days. There were times I just had to leave the house for a few hours. At one point, she told me to just leave. I stayed to spite her.” Her fingers pulled on the loose strings of the frayed placemat. “I thought in time she’d come to appreciate what I was doing for her, but until yesterday, I never realized why she was bugging the crap out of me to do better. Not because nothing I did was good enough, but because she loved me and wanted me to be prepared for a life without her. I watched her die a little at a time. Every time she wouldn’t eat, or take her meds, or let me bathe her, a little piece of me shriveled and died along with her. I could have done better. If I’d only known what she was trying to do. But I promised I wouldn’t allow those regrets to take over my life.”
His mind returned to the empty totes he’d seen when he walked through the door. “Is this about the letters?”
“The letters. Yes, the letters.” She sighed and turned her hand over to hold his. “My mom said I was too much like her. She wanted me to take chances. Looking back, I see now that every time I stumbled, she was right there, helping me up, cheering me on. I finally figured out the fighting and bickering started when I stopped reaching for the future.” The haunted shadows under her eyes deepened as she tumbled into a pool of guilt.
“If what you say is true—”
“It is true.”
“Let me finish,” he requested with a grin, tugging on her fingers, trying to lighten the mood. “If your mother wanted you to take risks and follow your dreams, she wouldn’t have wanted you to be sitting at the kitchen table on Christmas morning, beating the crap out of yourself.”
“Oh, my gosh, it’s Christmas. I’ve never liked Christmas, for a lot a reasons. Maybe all those reasons don’t matter anymore. I think I need to change. Today’s a good day to start.” Her wide-eyed astonishment took him by surprise. “We’ve got to get ready.”
“For?”
“To celebrate.”
Chase couldn’t remember the last time he’d celebrated a holiday. Usually he volunteered to remain on duty, to occupy his time and let those with families celebrate the day, his gift to his unit. The obligatory call to his mom took five minutes, or less if the answering machine picked up, but he’d stopped making those calls years ago.
“Go.” She gave him a slight nudge. “You need to get showered. We have things to do.”
He pointed at the breakfast sandwiches. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Later. You can take yours with you if you want.”
Chase reached and wiped a smudge of butter from her cheek. The need to touch her grew too strong to resist. When he stood, he kissed her forehead.
“I should warn you, I don’t like Christmas, either.”
“Don’t worry. That’s why we’re going out. Elkridge has a way of expelling the Grinch.”
“That sounds like a tooth extraction.”
She laughed. “When you live here, whether you like it or not, you get sucked into the family.”
The family she referred to amazed him. Other than the military, he’d never had people he just met cover his backside. The town had knocked him upside the head with their generosity and kindness. He would miss them—miss her—when he left. In the meantime, he’d do what he could to protect th
e general’s daughter.
“Sure you don’t want to stay here? We could have our own celebration.” The lift of the brow and the huskiness of his voice held so many promises.
“Go.” Her stern voice in no way matched the goofy grin on her face. “We have places to be.”
He was gunning for another kiss, but decided her desires were a higher priority than his, and turned to do as she commanded.
Ashley grabbed a set of freshly washed clothes from the laundry room and showered in the downstairs bathroom.
Visions of Chase never strayed far from her mind.
When he’d asked if she wanted to stay at the house, she about shouted, yes, yes, yes, stay here forever, but courage failed her.
Years of trying to please, to be the perfect daughter so her dad wouldn’t leave, or the diligent student to enchant her mom, had become an unbreakable habit.
She braced her hands on the shower wall and let the hot water stream over every nook and cranny. She hoped Chase might stay till the new year, but he told her he needed to leave early to get ready for work. She looked at her five fingers. No more than a fistful of days, that’s what they had left.
Pouring shampoo into her hand, she quickly washed her hair, rinsed, and grabbed a towel off the rack. A little bit of mascara and lip gloss and clothes finished the job.
Lucky waited by the door, and they walked together back to the kitchen.
Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.
It would take her a year or more to get situated. She could concentrate on her plan, but could she wait for Chase? She was not going to turn into her mother, a woman who spent three-quarters of her life waiting for the love of her life to return home for only a few hours, or days, or weeks.
She wouldn’t do it. But could she wait at least a little while for Chase?
Yes, but not for long, breathed into her mind.
“That’s a severe look. Anything I can help with?” Chase asked, walking into the room.
Freshly shaved, hair still damp from the shower, he looked scrumptious. In fact, he looked downright edible. No man should look that handsome.
“Only thinking. No worries.”
“You sure? ’Cause you looked like you were trying to solve world hunger over there.”
His attempt to lighten her mood didn’t go unappreciated. “You’re right. Today’s Christmas. It’s a day to celebrate. We have five days together. You ready?”
His weary eyes met hers. “You never said where we were going.”
“You’ll see,” she offered cryptically, on purpose, knowing he didn’t like hanging out with a bunch of people. But Harold, Maggie, and Jenna were people he knew, she reassured herself. “I’ll feed Lucky and then we can go.”
After a quick dump of food and refresh of water, Ashley headed for the garage.
Chase followed closely behind. “Did you ever find a buyer for your dad’s tools?”
The way he licked his lips when he neared the equipment hung neatly on the walls was a reminder her dad still hadn’t responded to her request. The tools were on the do-not-sell list, but she didn’t know what he planned to do with the various sets. Another text message might get a response. Then again, maybe not. For all she knew, her dad might not be in the country.
“Not yet. I should know something soon.”
He got into the passenger seat of the truck. “I bet it will be sad to see everything go.”
“Yep. That’s why Jenna offered to help me move. I’m having trouble deciding what to keep, trash, or leave behind.”
“She’s good people.”
“Yes, she is.”
She backed the truck out of the garage, closed the door, and backed down the snow-piled drive into a typical crisp Colorado morning. Blue sky. Barely above freezing. Over a foot of snow on the ground. When they drove around the bend, a group of female mule deer perked their ears in their direction.
“Speaking of people, how’s Bobby’s family holding up?”
He hesitated and stared out the window. For several seconds, she thought he might not have heard her, or didn’t care to answer the question, but then his expression changed and his tension eased like a bathtub emptying of water.
“They’re good. His younger sister’s home from school. She’ll be entering the military next summer. Her parents aren’t happy about her joining, and asked if I’d watch out for her.”
Her airways closed in and her heart beat a bit harder. The image of another woman in his life made her want to grow a set of talons. Three-inch claws, like the horned owl in her backyard.
“Huh. Bobby’s sister’s joining the Marines,” she managed to say, without adding the oh-how-convenient jealousy.
“The Navy, actually. She wants to be an intelligence officer, so she should pretty much stay stateside.”
“And you’re going back to see her before you leave.”
“Ashley?” He tapped a finger on her thigh. “Pull over, please.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
Crossing the bridge into town, she decided to postpone his request. “We’re almost there.”
She parked in front of the general store. A closed sign hung in the store window, but a half dozen cars butted up against the parking rails. Ashley parked her dad’s truck in an empty spot near a pine tree and turned off the ignition.
With hands in her lap, she tried to calm her hyperactive thoughts. She didn’t have a right to be possessive. Chase wasn’t hers. But dang it. The idea of someone, anyone, in his life but her didn’t seem right.
“Okay. I admit. I’m a tad bit jealous.” She pushed out the brave admission.
“A bit?”
“Well, not a bit. A bit is a skinny slice of pie. I’m Jenna’s entire pie rack.”
The crack of laughter made her turn and give him a soft backhand. “That’s not funny.”
He sobered quickly. “No. No, it’s not. Jealousy from a woman I’ve been trying to convince is special, and the only person I want to spend time with, is somewhat ironic, though. Don’t you think?”
No. Maybe. Fine. “I suppose.”
Chase unclicked his seatbelt, then hers, and pulled her over until her face was inches from his. “I mean it, Ash. There isn’t anyone else. And I’m beginning to doubt there ever would be. You’re kind, and giving, and like no one I’ve ever met before.”
“Does this mean you’re not interested?”
“Oh, I’m interested, all right. Interested in hauling you into my lap and kissing you until any jealous thought leaves your body. When I go back to Bobby’s, I’ll be returning his truck and then going straight to the airport. I’m not interested in anyone but you.”
Her mouth formed into a small O. He put a finger beneath her chin until her gaze connected with his. “I wish you knew how much I do care about you.”
Care, but not love.
“I care about you, too.” She pushed away from his chest. “So much so, we’d better get in there before we fog the windows and Harold comes to drag us out of the truck.”
Grabbing the door handle, she launched from the truck before she responded with something foolish, like the L-word.
That pivotal sentiment, even if it was Christmas, didn’t belong in her vocabulary.
Not yet, anyway.
“Ready to go?” Ashley peered in, then reached over the tailgate of the truck.
Chase snatched the oversized box of gifts before she lifted something she could barely wrap her arms around. He hip-checked the door and then stepped aside, waiting for her directions.
She pointed. “We need to go round the back.”
Hearing Christmas music and laughter, he braced and focused on the back of Ashley’s head while they climbed the outside steps. Ashley didn’t wait to enter. She walked right in to be embraced in the cheers and greetings of a crowd.
“Here let me take your coats.” Claudia held out her arms, and Harold removed the large box from Chase’s arms and set it aside.
A mass of warm bodies crowded closer while Chase backed toward the door, scanning the room, targeting any movement. His palms itched and the muscles at the back of his neck tightened. His vision turned gray at the edges and began to close in.
Ashley whispered something to Harold, then stepped in front of Chase, sliding her hands into his while Harold gathered his wife to his side, creating a barrier.
His mind went postal and saw a press of Afghan people crowding in, and someone shouted, he’s got a bomb! He looked, searching the crowd, reading faces, looking for movement. His training kicked in. He reached for his com to radio in his position and put his guys on alert. But the radio was missing.
He felt a tug on his arm, and he looked down.
Ashley squeezed his fingers. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
He focused on her face. The wave of sensory overload receded. Blood returned to his extremities, and his breath evened as he looked into her reassuring eyes.
Harold’s concerned and knowing expression connected to his. “How ‘bout we take a walk?”
Chase shook his head. “No. I’m good. Give me a sec to get my bearings.”
He squeezed the muscle in his shoulder to get the tension to release and then swallowed, and swallowed again, to get the imagined desert dust from his mouth.
He blew out a long, tentative breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
The sadness tightening Ashley’s beautiful lips tugged at him. “There’s no reason we need to stay. I messed up again. I don’t want you to feel forced to be here. We can go back to the house. We can celebrate Christmas together, the two of us.”
She turned to Harold, but Chase held her back. He closed his eyes. “I want to stay, but I need your help. You somehow manage to keep me grounded.”
Her hand flattened on his chest above his heart. “You sure?”
Nothing could get past the rock in his throat, so he nodded and hoped the gesture was convincing.