* * *
When I return from the twelve-week appointment with scans of the ultrasound in hand, I ask my mom if I can come over so we can talk.
Settling into my mom’s kitchen at the familiar table where I ate so many meals growing up, I ask if she’s heard anything from Dad lately.
She shakes her head. “No, sweetie. I just know this mission is a long one. I think six months.”
“Wow,” I say, realizing by the time my dad is home and sees me again, my stomach will be huge, and I’ll be closer to bringing his grandchild into the world, and he won’t have even known. And that’s if the mission only lasts that long. Sometimes they go longer. I glance at my mom and take her hand. “Are you holding up okay?”
Mom smiles, bringing me a cup of coffee. “You know how it goes. Worry like crazy the first few months, settle into a routine the next few, and then spend the last ones annoyed, ready for him to be back already.” She takes a sip of coffee, her face warm and inviting. “But you know your dad, he was made for this. And even though it’s hard on me, on you - I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“That’s a good perspective.” I bite my lip, knowing my own insecurities are a lot less mature, less wizened with time and age. All I can think about is myself - it’s all I have been thinking about. How I feel. How I want him back. How much it hurts me to have him gone.
But how does Lance feel?
Alive when he is fighting for his country?
Brave when he hunts down evil and works his butt off to keep us safe?
Strong when he knows he fought the good fight?
I blink back tears, realizing I’ve got it all wrong.
Mom rests her hand on mine. “What is it, sweetie?”
I reach in my bag, pulling out the ultrasound images. “I’m pregnant.”
Chapter Seven
Lance
Six months being gone was torture. I’m used to being away, but this time, it felt like my mission would never end. Maybe it’s because of the way I left things with Peyton. Or because I couldn’t get her face or words out of my head. And it wasn’t like I could call or email her. The mission was classified, top secret, meaning no contact with civilians.
But now I’m home. And I won’t be going anywhere for awhile.
I have a new mission - get Peyton back.
That’s if she hasn’t already moved on. Every day I was gone, all I could think about were her words. I need a man who is here for good. Day in, and day out. And you can’t give me that.
And I came to the realization that even though it’ll gut me giving up my men, my life as a SEAL, for Peyton I’d be willing.
“There’s a letter for you, Easton,” one of the sergeants says when I get back to base. It feels so good to be home after so many months of living out of a backpack, but I won’t feel relaxed until I see her again.
I take the letter, my heart speeding up when I see the return address. It’s from Peyton, and by the date stamp, it was sent months ago. Quickly, I open it and scan the words.
Lance,
I know the way we left things you might not want to see me again, but I really need to talk to you. I’m not sure when you’ll get this letter, but please call me when you can.
It’s important.
xo, Pey
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I leave the base. I go straight to Peyton’s house. Maybe I should have called first, especially after I stand at her door for ten minutes, knocking.
“She’s not home,” one of her neighbors says when she walks by.
“Do you know where she is?”
The woman shrugs. “Probably at the rink.”
Right. I check my watch. It’s six on a Friday night, of course that’s where she would be.
So I head to Hot Wheels Roller Rink. The parking lot is full, and when I get out, 80s music blasts through the sliding doors when they open, and inside techno-color strobe lights flash, and people of all ages are skating around the large rink. Pride at what my girl has accomplished fills me.
She’s not your girl anymore, a voice says in the back of my head, filling me with insecurities.
I recognize the woman at the front desk, she’s one of the co-owners and Peyton’s friend.
“Hey, Kendall, right?” I say as I approach.
Her eyes go wide when she sees me. “Oh...um, hi, Lance. You’re back.” One hand rests on the small baby bump that presses against her tight t-shirt.
I raise an eyebrow at her and grin. “Looks like a lot has changed since I left.”
“You have no idea,” she says, giving me a forced smile, one that doesn’t give me much confidence. “Does Peyton know you’re here?”
“No. I just got home. She sent this letter...” I pull out the folded envelope from my pocket, like I need an excuse to be here. “It sounded like something important. Is she here?”
Kendall gives me a worried look and chews on her bottom lip, glancing over her shoulder at the closed office door. “Um...”
I know right away that something is wrong, but I have no idea what it is.
“Is she in there?”
Kendall sighs. “Yes, but—”
I start to move around the counter, but she steps in front of me before I make it to the door.
“Lance, wait—”
“I need to see her.”
“I know, but you have to let me at least warn her you’re here.”
“Warn her?” My chest tightens, my instincts alerting me that something is really not right. And my first thought is that she’s seeing someone else. “Why the hell do you have to warn her?”
She doesn’t have the chance to respond, because the office door opens.
Peyton frowns at Kendall. “What’s going on out—” Her gaze lands on me, those beautiful hazel eyes widen. “Lance.” My name comes out as barely a whisper.
All the things I planned on saying, they just stick in my throat when I take her in. God, she’s even more beautiful than I remembered. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her, but I see her reservation, the walls that she’s so carefully constructed.
“I got your letter,” I tell her.
Kendall walks away, but not before I see the look she gives Peyton, a look that tells me something huge is going on.
Peyton sucks in a shaky breath and motions me to come into the office. I follow her in, and when she shuts the door, I do the one thing I’ve been dying to do since I left - I kiss her.
Cupping her jaw, I press my lips against hers. Soft and desperate, I kiss her until I feel tears on her cheeks.
I pull back and frown.
“Lance...” Her voice is shaky, her hands resting on my chest. “I...I’m...I have to tell you—”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“What?” She shakes her head. “No. God, no. It’s...” Her hands drop to her stomach, and she places her palms on her belly like Kendall had. She’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt, which is why I hadn’t noticed at first. But I see it now - the round stomach.
Shit.
“You’re pregnant?” I take a step back, fingers dragging through my hair. And I feel my world crashing down around me.
She nods.
“That’s what you wanted to tell me, what was so important.” I try to hold back my anger, my frustration.
“You’re upset,” she says.
Of course I’m upset. I need to pace, but the office is too small. I turn on her, holding her gaze. “Do I know the guy?”
Her lips pull down in a frown. “What?”
“The father. Do I know him?”
“You think...” She shakes her head. “I haven’t been with anyone else.”
It takes me a second to understand what she’s saying, and when I finally put it together, all my frustration turns to hope. “Are you saying it’s mine?”
There are tears in her eyes, and she blinks them away before answering, “Yes.”
Oh my god.
I remove the distance between us a
nd scoop her into my arms. “We’re having a baby?”
“Yes,” she says again, and I can tell she barely gets the word out. I can see the war going on in her eyes. The desire to give herself to me, the fear of what will happen if she does.
I rest my forehead against hers. “God, I missed you,” I say, pressing my hand to her belly.
Peyton looks up at me with those hazel eyes of hers. “I’ve missed you too,” she whimpers, her hands running down my chest, and I feel her need, her desire. Her voice is husky when she says, “I really missed you.”
I lift a brow, not expecting the moment to turn so hot, so fast, but the truth is every time I am with Peyton it’s like we’re standing in an inferno.
“I’m sorry,’ she says, pulling back. “I’m just a little...” She bites her bottom lip.
God, I know her well. Well enough to know she’s all kinds of hot and bothered.
“A little what?” I ask, my hand on her waist, drawing her to me.
“A little horny.” She snorts, then shakes her head, her cheeks turning crimson. “Oh God, this is so not the time or place but I—”
I kiss her. Hard. Because I’m horny too. It’s been a long ass six months and the memory of her sweet pussy was the thing that got me through on those dark, lonely nights. I run my hand under her tight cotton mini skirt that hugs her curves.
“I know we should talk,” I say.
“We can talk later,” she moans, pulling off her sweatshirt, and clicking the lock on the door as I lift those creamy cheeks of hers up, pressing her back against the door. Her hands tug on my zipper, my cock aching to fill her sweet hole.
“Your tits are huge,” I groan, pulling the lace cups down so I can suck those hard nipples as I begin to enter her warm and willing pussy.
“I missed this,” she cries. “Oh God, I’m so horny, so, oh, ohhh.” She’s crying out her pleasure and I laugh, knowing she’s getting herself where she belongs with hardly any help from me. My girl is ready, and I can take her where she needs to go. My cock was made for this cunt and I will make sure she knows it.
“Oh hell,” I groan as my cum releases, her hips swivel as she finishes, too. I chuckle against her lips. “We sure as hell didn’t waste any time.”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “Six months is too long to go without an orgasm.”
I kiss her again, loving the way her skin feels in my hands. “Thanks for the welcome home gift,” I tell her.
“That wasn’t my welcome home gift.” She smiles up at me. “It was to celebrate our one and half year bootyversary.”
Chapter Eight
Peyton
I swear I stopped breathing when I first saw Lance standing outside the office. There hasn’t been one day that has gone by that I haven’t thought about him. That I didn’t wonder how he would react when I told him about the baby.
And seeing the hope and love in his eyes now, feeling those massive, powerful arms around me, I feel something I haven’t felt in the last six months - like maybe everything will be okay.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says after he’s taken me hard and fast against the office door. Just the way I needed. God, I needed that bad. So, so bad.
But the rush of desire is momentarily satiated, and he holds me, his palm on my belly, cradling me against him like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
And I know in my heart that he’ll be a great dad. But a Navy SEAL dad all the same. Gone for months at a time, with the chance that one day he’ll leave and not come home. I can take the time apart from him. Sure, it’s torture not seeing him. But the thought of losing him for good, it’s too much.
“Hey.” He tilts my chin up. “Everything is going to be all right.” He smiles, and when he does, I feel like maybe it will be.
There’s a knock on the door and after I put my shirt back on and readjust my skirt, I move to unlock it.
Mila’s eyes widen when she sees Lance. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but there’s sort of an emergency in the kitchen.”
I glance at Lance, not wanting to leave him. We still have so much to talk about.
“Go,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I’ll come by your place tonight. What time are you off?”
“Ten,” I tell him, not wanting to let him go, but knowing that’s the story of my life. I tell Mila, “I’ll be there in a second.”
She nods before leaving.
He kisses me, my entire body melting again, and I know I won’t have the strength to let him go. Not if he doesn’t walk away.
He pulls back, smiling. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for the past six months. Actually, the past year and a half if I’m honest with myself.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking like he’s about to break something to me, like he’s nervous about what he’s about to say. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance, but I promised myself that if I did, I’d just say it.”
“What?” My fingers curl in his shirt, forgetting about the emergency in the kitchen, and ready to lock the office door again. But then his words snap me out of the haze of desire.
“I love you, Peyton.”
I suck in a small breath.
He touches my lips, holding my gaze, searching. “I know that probably scares you, and I’m not asking you to say it back. Not yet, anyway.” One side of his mouth tilts up in a crooked smile, his eyes dancing with humor and hope and love and a million other emotions that he so freely gives.
I love you too, I want to say. But fear keeps the words stuck in my throat.
He kisses me again. “I’ll see you tonight,” he says, before turning and walking out the door.
I need to stand there a moment and catch my breath, to try to collect my thoughts. But then I hear the panicked voices outside the office, and I know I have to deal with whatever emergency is happening in the kitchen.
It turns out to be nothing but a blown fuse, which I easily fix.
“Sorry,” Mila says. “I know nothing about any of this technical stuff.” She rests her hand on mine and gives a small squeeze. “How did it go with him?”
“He was...perfect,” I tell her, reaching for a handful of jellybeans on the counter. “Just like I knew he would be.”
“And that’s a problem, because...?”
“Because he’ll leave again. Maybe not next week, but soon.”
“I know it’s hard, but you love him, right?”
“Yeah,” I admit. That’s why it’s so hard. A text from Lance comes through a moment later.
Lance: We’re going to be okay. :) Holy shit!
I press my phone to my forehead, smiling for the first time in a long time.
“Why are you so happy?” Kendall laughs when she skates toward us, then her eyes widen, and she gives me a knowing grin. “Oh, did Lance and you ... like get it on in the office?”
Mila laughs. “They so did - I practically walked in on them.”
I throw a jellybean at her, laughing. And the baby likes it, because it starts kicking up a storm. I press Mila’s hand to my bump and then Camilla and Kendall are all taking turns feeling my little one as it moves around.
“I think Lance and I are going to make this work.”
Kendall squeezes my hand. “He cares a lot about you, you can see it in his eyes.”
“He told me he loved me.”
My friends collectively gasp - as if on cue.
“And what did you say?” Camilla asks.
I swallow. Then cringe. Then shovel a handful of jellybeans in my mouth to avoid answering.
“Oh my god, did you seriously leave the poor man hanging?”
I groan, leaning against the counter. “I’m such an idiot.”
Mila laughs. “At least you know how insane you are.”
“So what’s the plan?” Camilla asks.
“He’s coming to my place tonight. And I’ll get the ice cream cake he got me last time we were together, and I’ll tell him the truth. That I love him.”
&n
bsp; Kendall squeezes my hand. “Good, because you can’t wait on stuff like that. You just never know what might happen.”
I spend the rest of the night training a new cook on the fryer. Kendall, Camille, and Mila are around me, joking and telling stories, and I know how lucky I am to have them.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you three,” I tell them. They’re not just friends, they’re family. And it hits me that it’s what Lance must feel about his SEAL team.
It would be wrong of me to ever ask him to quit.
Being a SEAL isn’t just a job for him. It’s part of who he is. And I love who he is.
“Oh my god,” Camille says, frowning up at the flatscreen, and reaching for the remote to turn up the volume.
We all follow her gaze, I repeat her statement when I see the flames and smoke on the screen. There’s been some kind of explosion at one of the gas stations not far from here. The scene that’s playing on the screen is live.
“The fire explosion happened just minutes ago,” a reporter says off camera. “The police and fire department have been called, and we’re warning everyone to stay away...”
The woman keeps talking, but I don’t hear her words, because I recognize the man in the background. The man who runs out of the blazing building, carrying a child in his arms.
“Lance,” I whisper, getting as close to the screen as I can.
“What’s wrong?” Camille asks from behind me.
I squint at the screen, smoke and flames make it difficult to see. But I know it’s him.
And then I forget to breathe, because he’s running back into the building.
Even the reporter seems shocked and terrified by Lance’s actions.
A few seconds later, a woman runs out of the building, a bundle in her arms.
“Where is he?” I whisper, watching the screen. “Why isn’t he coming out?”
A hand is on my shoulder squeezing.
Then the unthinkable happens. There’s an explosion, and for a moment the screen goes black from the impact, but when the camera re-adjusts the building isn’t just on fire, it’s all but gone.
Bootyversary: Booty Call Series Page 3