Heck, who am I kidding? Seeing him here just made my heart finally start beating again!
He looked so different in his jeans and black Henley. The man she had been dreaming about for over a month looked more laid back, more approachable, which made him so much scarier.
Africa had been one of the top three worst experiences of her entire life. But because of Cullen, she remembered parts of it with absolute joy.
How was that even possible?
Cullen set down the beer he had been holding, got off the kitchen stool and prowled over to her.
“Mom, who’s he?” she heard Tonya ask.
“Carys, can we go outside?” His low voice vibrated through her body.
She looked up into those tempting blue eyes and nodded, because she didn’t have enough air to speak. He lightly touched her lower back as he opened the sliding glass door and guided her outside. His hand felt like it offered her protection, courage, and something she couldn’t quite define. She looked up at him through her bangs.
“When are you going to yell at me?” he asked. She led them toward the cushioned wicker bench and motioned for him to sit down. She scooched to the corner.
“How can I yell, when I’m relieved, you’re here? Plus, Sarah’s been saying for almost two weeks that I should expect you. She laughed at me after I called you, she said it was an engraved invitation.”
He scowled at her. “It wasn’t. I really had to think this over. But after imbibing a tall, cool can of fuck-it-all, I decided this was the right thing to do.”
She giggled.
“I’ve been around a lot of military men, and I haven’t heard about that drink yet.”
“I’m thinking of starting a home brewery.”
He held out his hand, palm up. She looked at it. Then she looked at him, his face, his smile, his eyes. She still didn’t take his outstretched hand.
“You know we’ve never even kissed. This makes no sense whatsoever.” Even to her own ears, it was a weak protest.
He didn’t say anything, just kept his hand out.
“Where do we go from here?”
He continued his silence and still offered his hand.
Dammit!
She might visit war-torn countries and not know what was going to come at her when, but she was a doctor; she thrived on order in her personal life. She wanted control. She loved plans and precision. She wanted a damn road map! With a warranty!
“Carys, take my hand,” he whispered.
His voice could talk the birds from the trees or sing a newborn baby to sleep. She wanted to listen to that voice forever. How was that possible? She’d only known him for five days.
Carys looked at his hand one last time and pushed it out of her way as she launched herself at him. She wound her arms around his neck. It was awkward at first as she came at him sideways, but of course he fixed it. He always made things better. Soon, he had her cuddled in his lap and she was looking up at him.
She grabbed at his short black hair, trying to force his head down. She wanted her kiss.
His smile was wicked. “This is our first kiss, Woman. It’s going to be spectacular. You’re not going to get me to rush my fences.”
Now she pulled at his hair, trying to hurt him, the jerk. He chuckled.
He brushed at the new bangs that fluttered against her forehead. “You’ve changed your hair. Do you like it?”
She swallowed. “I do,” she whispered. “I used to really love playing with different cuts and styles, but I lost that. Now I have that back.”
“God, you’re gorgeous. I don’t care if your hair is loose, in a braid, or shaved off. You are beautiful to me.”
He was going to make her cry. She believed him.
She tugged on his hair again, trying to tempt him downwards. He laughed.
He slid his fingers through the hair at the base of her skull and she arched into the feel. As she was luxuriating in his touch, Cullen feathered a kiss along her jaw.
No!
That wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t what she needed.
She turned her head, trying to catch his lips, and then he was there gracing her with the softest kiss imaginable as their lips met for the first time.
18
Carys.
She’d been haunting his dreams. His life had been colorless for the last goddamn month as he’d sat waiting for any kind of communication, and now…
Now…
He sifted his fingers through the fine silk of her red-gold hair, softly, wanting to infuse the caress with only pleasure. She arched into his touch, and that’s when he went in for more. Her lips beckoned, he needed to taste them again.
Don’t get greedy.
Slow.
He met her mouth with a slow slide of his own, and she moaned. Her plump lips softened against his and little by little she opened for him. Cullen was getting into this. He was wooing her response. He feathered his tongue along her bottom lip, she tasted like sunshine. Her lips caught his tongue, and then she snipped at it with her teeth.
He let out a long groan.
She let go and looked up at him with wide green eyes. “Was that a good groan?”
“Let’s experiment ten more times and find out,” he suggested.
A smile blossomed on her face. “Let’s.”
She cupped his smooth cheeks, and then trailed her fingers along the side of his jaw. “I can’t decide,” she said. There was a twinkle in her eye, but he could also see a soul-deep well of desire. She was just as needy as he was.
“What can’t you decide?” he asked.
“If I like the scruff from Africa, or this smooth urbane look that you’re sporting here in the States.”
He winced. “I’m kind of hoping you like smooth twice a week, and whiskers five days a week.”
She drew back.
“You see us together a lot, don’t you?”
“You’re not in Eugene. Where do you want to be? Here? Because I have a proposition for you. I want us to date. I want to go out to dinner with you, I want movies, maybe popcorn and wine on the couch while we watch shitty cable TV shows, and I bring you flowers.”
“Wine?” She lifted her eyebrow.
“Okay, beer for me, or better yet, Fanta. And I have a plan on how we can do all of this.”
“What’s your plan?”
“It’s easy and manageable.”
She shifted so she could sit up a little more. Cullen winced, because she was wiggling on his hard-on.
“Oh!” Carys said as she figured out what was going on. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Honey, if you were in my lap and I wasn’t aroused, we’d have a problem.”
Damn, for a doctor, she sure was naïve.
She wiggled one more time and arranged her ass on his thigh instead of on his dick. “Okay, that’s better,” she said after having turned one-hundred shades of pink. “Now what, Oh-Mighty-SEAL, is your plan?”
“Come to Virginia with me. I also have a guest bedroom. As a matter of a fact, I have two kitted out, so you’ll have a choice. I would suggest you use the one that Chelle uses. The one that Baily uses is often taken over by Aries no matter what I try to do to dissuade him.”
“Hmmm, so you just hit me with a lot, Cullen. Move to Virginia—”
“Eventually move,” he interrupted. “Visit to begin with.”
“Okay, visit. Then there’s Chelle, Baily, and Aries. Who are they?”
“Sister. Sister. Dog.”
She gave him an arch look. “Again. That’s a lot.”
“Which parts?”
“Surprisingly, it’s the sister, sister, and dog. I’m liking the part where I come out for a visit. Not necessarily staying with you. I can stay at a hotel.”
Don’t grin.
Do. Not. Grin.
“A hotel won’t work,” he said in a teasing tone. “I’m still going to have to be at the base most weekdays, and then you’ll be bored during the day without my smiling fa
ce around and you stuck in some gloomy hotel. But, if you’re at my place you can acclimate yourself to the area. I can also introduce you to some great people and you can spend some time with the sister, sister, and dog.”
“Cullen—”
He propped her up, so they were nose-to-nose and he smiled. “Now, let me be serious for a second. Remember what I said about not wanting to rush my fences?”
After a moment, she nodded.
“In no way, shape, or form do I want to push you into anything you’re not ready for. Coax you? Cajole you? Absolutely. But I don’t even want to try to seduce you, Carys. This is all on your timeline. You’ve been hurt, I know this. I want a chance for you to get to know me when we’re not running for our lives through Africa.”
“That’s not the part that scares me,” she whispered.
“What is?” What have I missed?
“What happens when you finally get to know the real me?” she asked.
He cupped her soft cheek and traced her plump satin soft bottom lip. “Then I will fall even harder.”
Pulling herself out of his arms had been a heck of a lot harder than she thought it should be. Apparently, it wasn’t just newborns that needed skin-to-skin contact. Carys blushed as she thought about lip-to-lip contact.
Sarah caught her from across the table and raised her eyebrow. Darn it. It was tough having such a good friend that they could read your mind. Sarah had been trying to drag her into the back bedroom ever since she and Cullen had come back into the dining room for dinner. Carys had avoided the girl chat. Part of it was because she didn’t know what to say, but if she were truly honest, the real reason was that she didn’t want to miss a moment of her time with Cullen. And, drat it, Sarah seemed to have guessed that too!
“Aunt Carys, who drew this?” Tonya asked as she held up a well-executed drawing in pencil on lined paper. It showed a mother holding a baby. Carys looked down at the corner of the paper.
“A little girl named Leila drew that,” she answered Tonya. “I met her a while ago. She lives with her mother, sisters, and brother in Egypt.”
“How’d you get it?” The little girl’s piping voice brought back visions of the two girls in Sudan.
“Mr. Lyons brought the pictures and letter to me when he came to visit. Wasn’t that nice of him?”
“Uh-huh,” Tonya nodded vigorously.
“Do you want to see pictures of Leila and her sister?” Cullen asked.
“Can I, Mom?” Tonya asked as she slipped off her chair in preparation for her mother’s affirmative answer. As soon as she got the nod, she ran around the table to the side where Cullen and Carys sat. Cullen had his phone out, and Tonya immediately hung over his arm to check out the pictures.
“Where was that? Is that Egypt?”
“Nope, that’s Sudan, but both of those countries are on the continent of Africa,” Cullen explained.
“They’re pretty,” Tonya said. “I like her braids.” Cullen didn’t seem to mind the little girl’s fingerprints on his phone.
“Dad, can we go to the continental of Africa? Can I have my hair braided, Mom?”
“It’s the continent of Africa, not continental, Honey,” David corrected. “And we’re visiting your grandparents first.” David turned to his wife and tugged on her hair. “You’re up, champ.”
“I’ll braid your hair tomorrow,” she promised her daughter.
“Coolness. Aunt Carys, can I draw a picture for Leila?”
“You sure can,” she said. “Now, where are those brownies you helped bake?”
“I’ll get ‘em,” Tonya said with a huge grin that was missing some teeth.
“How about I help?” David stood up and followed his daughter into the kitchen.
“Your kid is a doll,” Cullen said as he leaned in to hand his phone to Sarah who’d been motioning for it.
Carys sat back in her chair and let everything after that just wash over her. She’d been here with Sarah, David, and Tonya for five weeks and it had really helped. Sarah was her best friend and she’d let her cry and scream when needed as she dealt with the agony of losing so many of her team members. She’d been the same woman who had helped put her partially back together after Santa Flores.
David and Tonya made a flourish out of the ice cream that went with the brownies, and Cullen and David bonded over shared military experiences. The way that David ended up braiding Tonya’s hair while he talked to Cullen melted Carys’ heart. When she tried to help with the clean-up, Sarah gently shoved her back into the seat next to Cullen.
Is this how my life could be? Isn’t it about time I took the risk?
“Are you sure your guy really works for the Army?” Cullen asked David. “He’s sounding like the same guy named Kevin we have working for us at Little Creek. Mouth-breather, right? Can’t follow an order to save his life?”
“That’s the guy. But he’s ours—I know it because I’m the one who filled out his last fitness report. You know, the one that got him demoted,” David laughed as he sat back and parted out his daughter’s hair.
“Don’t lie to me, you didn’t demote him, you transferred him to us,” Cullen laughed.
He has a great laugh.
Sarah winked at her.
Carys wasn’t all that surprised when the little Sloane family went to bed and left her to wave Cullen on his way. Heck, if she knew her friend Sarah, she was hoping the man would spend the night.
They sat on the couch in the living room drinking milk and indulging in another brownie.
“Did you think about my great idea?” Cullen asked.
“Great, huh?”
“Grand? Stupendous? Fan-tab-u-lous?”
She sat close with his arm around her. It felt so good, and so right. The idea of having this while staying at his house in Virginia was seductive.
She heard the sound of Frère Jacques, and realized her phone was ringing. It was the ring tone she rarely heard. It was Marie-Clare.
“What is it?” Cullen asked when Carys got up from the couch to go to the kitchen where her phone was charging.
“It’s Marie-Clair Peirot. She’s the psychologist I worked with at the refugee camp in Greece.” She quirked an eyebrow at Cullen when he took the moment to snag two more brownies as she answered her phone.
“Hello,” she said in French.
“Hello,” Marie-Clair responded in kind. “I have bad news. I hate having to deliver it over the phone but I’m in Lebanon and I have no way of getting to you in person.”
“Slow down, Marie-Claire, you know my French isn’t that good,” Carys said, concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Me, I am fine.”
Carys breathed a sigh of relief. “Is it any of our former teammates?” She didn’t think she could take it if more doctors and nurses had been killed.
“No, no, no. They’re all right. It is little Raviq.”
With those few words, Carys’ blood ran cold. She thought of the little boy from the refugee camp in Greece the way she had last seen him. His blue shirt that barely covered his tummy, his sullen expression, the way he hadn’t even cried at his own father’s farce of a funeral. Marie-Claire was going to say he was dead.
“He’s in Canada with his mom, right?” Carys said desperately.
“No, my love, he’s not. His visa got denied at the last moment. He ended up in another refugee camp. This time in Lebanon.”
“Tell me,” Carys begged. “Just tell me what happened.”
“He was found next to the security fence. Dead. I don’t have the particulars. They just told me he was in bad shape when they found him. I don’t know if that means he was close to death already or if he was killed.”
Marie-Claire’s voice shook. Carys wanted to comfort her, she did. But she couldn’t. The woman kept talking. She couldn’t understand anymore. It was like a switch had shut off in Carys’ mind. She pulled the phone away from her ear. Then it fell from her nerveless fingers.
I need her to stop ta
lking.
Vaguely, she heard Cullen talking on the phone. She didn’t know what he was saying, she didn’t care. As long as she didn’t have to hear Marie-Claire anymore.
“Honey?”
She couldn’t see. She didn’t want to hear.
Where am I?
She opened her eyes and realized her head was between her knees, she was staring at the floor, her back was against the floor cupboards. Sarah and David’s house?
“Carys? Can you speak to me?”
I don’t want to talk.
“Okay, you don’t have to, Baby. I’m just going to sit next to you.”
She didn’t respond. How could she? Life wasn’t real. Nothing was. Please say nothing is real.
She heard more than felt her sob.
Raviq. Oh God, poor little Raviq with the most sorrowful brown eyes. He’s dead. Dead in a ditch in some Goddamn refugee camp in Lebanon when he was supposed to be in Canada.
“Cullen, why wasn’t he in Canada? I don’t understand?”
Carys shuddered.
“I don’t know, Baby.”
She tried to get up from the floor, but when she pushed up, her hand slipped, and she crashed back down.
“Let me help you. I don’t want you hurt.” She felt Cullen try to help her up.
“It’s okay,” she sobbed. “I’m not hurt. Raviq is hurt,” she tried to explain. Then in her mind’s eye she saw Raviq’s brown eyes and started crying even harder.
“Okay, we’ll just stay here.” Strong arms pulled her into a hug.
“He died,” she wailed. “They killed him. All those fucking bastards killed him.”
She buried her face into his neck and wept. It wasn’t enough, so she pulled him closer. She remembered Raviq letting her wash his face and hands and give him some soup. He was missing a tooth, but she only saw it once because he’d only smiled once.
Cullen?
“I’m here, Carys. I’m not going anywhere.” Had she said his name out loud?
“That little baby boy went through so much. Why did this happen?” she begged him and the universe for an answer.
“Tell me!” she screamed.
Cullen didn’t flinch. He pulled her in even closer.
Her Tempting Protector: Navy SEAL Team (Night Storm Book 2) Page 17