Military Romance Collection

by E Cleveland

  “Don’t worry about who I am, you just worry about keeping your hands to yourself.”

  “Get the fuck outta here, hillbilly.” Ben sizes me up and tries to push past me to grab Elsie.

  Except I don’t move.

  He might have had better luck getting the wall to budge out of his way.

  I grab him by his expensive shirt and crack him across the face with my meaty fist. In the conference room, I can hear the gasping crowd again. I swear, they’re probably fainting on the floor by now.

  Ben falls against the wall and holds himself up as he gets his bearings. “Whatever, I don’t even care about that bitch anyway.” Obviously, he didn’t learn his lesson the first time, so I cock my fist and smash it across his face again. He flattens against the floor, rolling his back and grabbing his jaw.

  “I’m gonna fucking sue you for assault.” He manages to stumble back onto his feet and shakes his head and tries to pretend that I didn’t just hand him his ass.

  Ben glares at Elsie and then at me before walking down the hall as nonchalantly as he can manage.

  Douche.

  “I thought you left.” Elsie looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

  “I couldn’t go without you,” I admit, pulling her into me. I crush her lips with my desperate kiss. A kiss I never thought I’d get to experience again. A kiss I’ll never let these lips miss for another moment.

  “I love you,” I murmur.

  “I love you too, Sawyer,” she breathes.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” I pull on her hand. She looks up at me knowingly and follows my lead. She knows that I’ll take care of her. That I’ll keep her safe. That as long as we’re together the rest of the world can slide away behind the setting sun.

  A world of two is all we need.

  37

  Elsie

  “Are you ready yet?” Sawyer scolds me with a smirk on his face.

  “Oh, give me a break, I’m almost done.” I pull my backpack in tight against my shoulders and snap it up over my lightweight ski jacket.

  Of course, I would’ve loved it if we had run off into the woods together after the conference. It would’ve been romantic to leave in a whirlwind of optimism, letting our pasts blur behind us as we forged a new future together.

  Stupid. Reckless. Potentially deadly. But romantic.

  Instead, we flew back home. Except it’s not my home anymore. I’ve spent the last week getting ready to do this right. Gathering practical clothes to wear, finding my identification and my personal items, and getting rid of my downtown loft apartment.

  None of those things were romantic, but they were necessary to tie up all the loose ends. This decision is final. I’m not giving it a trial run. It’s my new life. My new life with my man, off the grid. Together.

  Of course, the packing and planning might not have been very romantic, but we still had plenty of time for turning up the heat.

  I feel like it was a huge accomplishment to get Sawyer to stay with me in the city while I got all of this sorted out. Every day I made sure I showed him exactly how grateful I was with his patience.

  I showed him in my old bed. On the floor. In the shower. On the kitchen counter.

  I think he got the idea.

  Now we’re back in Alaska and I already feel happier. I smile as heat spreads through my body at the memories we’ve made. I can’t wait to get to his log home and begin making a lot more.

  “Okay, I’m good to go.” I smile at Sawyer and his face lights up as he grins back at me.

  “It’s about time,” he teases me. Sawyer steps toward me and wraps his huge hand around the back of my head, pulling me in for an unhurried, sensual kiss. I can feel all the tension of the week drift from my limbs as the birds chirp in the trees around us. We’re beginning our journey back through the same forest that brought us together. Sawyer said it takes three days of hiking, but I’m up for the challenge.

  “Let’s get started,” Sawyer murmurs and tilts his forehead against mine, looking at my lips with his intense brown eyes.

  He steps back and lifts the rope for his toboggan, yanking it into action, and I follow behind him. No wonder his body is like forged steel. He effortlessly guides the supplies over the snow while carrying even more on his broad, strong back.

  I smile up at the bright blue sky and follow in his huge footprints. I’m ready for this.

  I’m ready to start my life with him. To take each day as an adventure. To live my life in moments instead of hashtags. I’m ready to love and be loved like I’ve only ever watched in movies. I’m ready to let the years slip by into oblivion as we grow old in each other’s arms.

  My heart is open.

  I’m ready.

  Epilogue

  Elsie

  I brush my hand over the freshly pulled carrots and small clumps of dirt fall back to the garden. Wiping my brow with the back of my free-flowing linen shirt, I look up at the enormous swatch of bright blue sky above.

  Summer is beautiful everywhere, but here, at the cottage, every moment is a lesson in the marvels of the season. I close my eyes and lean back on my hand, letting the warm breeze tickle my skin. In the distance, I can hear the water of the lake lapping at the shoreline.

  Peaceful doesn’t begin to explain this feeling. Perfection is a little closer. A shadow casts over me and I flutter my eyelids open to see Sawyer smiling down at me. On his line, he has two speckled trout hanging, ready to be turned into the freshest fillets anyone has ever tasted.

  “Those will go perfectly with the salad.” I tilt my head and hold out my hand to him. Sawyer easily lifts me to my feet and wraps his rough hand around my waist.

  “How are you feeling today? You’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?”

  “I was literally just sitting in the dirt, picking vegetables. I’m not made of glass, you know,” I scold him gently. The truth is, I love his concern.

  Sawyer’s soft lips kiss a trail down the side of my sensitive neck and I don’t remember what I was saying. I moan and lean back into him, enjoying the pulses of bliss spreading through my skin.

  “No, you’re much too sweet to be made of glass. Maybe sugar.” His breath billows over my collarbone as he murmurs to me. His hand protectively rests against my belly and I lean back into his hard body, feeling like there is nothing in this world he couldn’t protect me from.

  Protect us from, I remind myself.

  “I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard when you’ve got our little bean sprouting up inside you.” He nips my earlobe and a jolt shoots through me.

  “I’m not, don’t worry. I promise I’m taking it easy,” I reassure him for the hundredth time this week.

  It was amazing how quickly the change came. One day, Sawyer was teasing me for how little firewood I could chop or giving me a hard time for how little water I could haul. The day we found out I was pregnant all of that changed. Out with the good-natured ribbing about my not being able to keep up, and in with the pampering. At this rate, I’ll be delivering while he fans me with fern fronds and feeds me wild blueberries one by one.

  Not that I mind. There’s something sexy about a man who takes care of his woman. Takes care of his family.

  “Let’s get you out of this heat.” Sawyer jerks his head toward the cottage and lifts the basket of food I’ve been gathering with his free hand.

  Cottage doesn’t do our house justice. More like a log chalet perched on a mountainside with the sparkling lake a mere hundred feet away from the front door. I love sitting out on the balcony at night, listening to the crickets and watching the brightest stars I’ve ever seen light up the night sky.

  When I look out over our property and see the fireflies dancing over the lawn, it’s impossible not to feel the magic of childhood course through your veins. Like dreams can still come true.

  Mine did.

  Even the childhood dream I once had of having Belle’s library is now a reality I enjoy. The Catcher in the Rye might b
e our favorite book, but it’s far from the only one in our house. Sawyer has a two-story loft wall filled from the floor to the rafters with books. I asked him why he built it and he said winters are long. Every time he cracked the cover of a book, it was like an instant escape from the desolation and loneliness the icy landscape brought. Some people take trips to Florida to escape the winter blues. We read.

  I follow Sawyer to the house and smile, knowing this hot, lazy day turns to a tranquil night and that will blur into another long, summer day, until it’s a new season. Then the weather will be different, but our lives will be the same. Even when our baby decides to enter the world, we’ll still live a simple life where happiness and togetherness mean more than anything else.

  “I love you,” I whisper and lean into Sawyer as we walk up the front stairs of the cottage together.

  “I love you just a tiny bit more.” He smiles and kisses my hand gently. He loves to say that. No matter how much I protest or pout, he won’t relent that his love is an iota stronger, runs half an inch deeper and a tiny bit wider than mine.

  Today, I don’t argue. Instead, I smile. Let him think he loves me more. Let me think I love him more. If that’s our biggest disagreement, then I think we’ve got it pretty good.

  Pretty perfect, really. I throw my arm around his waist and snuggle in against his hard shoulder, letting the moment marinate in my soul. Enjoying every second of every day that I have with him on this earth.

  And living it to the fullest.

  THE END

  One Year Later

  Sawyer

  “My beautiful girls,” I admit it, I’m gushing a little as Elsie steps out onto the porch with baby Olive.

  My axe glints in the sunlight over by the sharpening stone and cloth. Even though the snow just melted a month ago, I’m already thinking about winter. I stare down into my daughter’s face and promised myself I won’t miss any details to get us through those harsh months. I’m not fucking around up here, I’ve got to keep my family alive. Overlook enough tiny details and you will freeze to death before the plants fold up from the spring-warmed earth.

  "Can you hold her for a sec?” Elsie lifts Olive out to me and I’m happy to snuggle her in my arms. “I’m going down to the stream to wash up."

  "Of course,” I smile down at our baby and she coos at me and wraps her tiny fist around my beard and gives it a good tug. “You go take as long as you need, but Elsie?”

  She stops on the second step and looks back at me over her shoulder, “Yeah?”

  “Don’t you forget for one second that I like when you’re a little dirty too,” I smirk.

  I love that I can still make her blush. A smile spreads across her face, that same smile that's had me in a trance since the moment we met.

  "After Olive goes down for her nap, maybe we can get a little dirty together," she purrs.

  “Oh yeah?” I arch my eyebrow. “Well then, you shouldn’t worry about getting cleaned up then.

  “Why’s that?” She puts her hand on her hip.

  “Because when I’m done with you, you’re gonna need another fucking bath.”

  It's been over a year now that we've been out here alone living like pioneers, well, until Olive joined us. I see her as soon as I open my eyes in the morning, at every meal, throughout the day, and she’s the last thing I see before they shut at night. Some people would go crazy being around their partner constantly. Not me. Every second I'm with her my love grows. She is my oxygen. I need her around me to live.

  “Well, I don’t want to miss a second of that,” she’s blushing again. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Holding Olive close to my chest, I walk to the edge of the step and kiss Elsie’s soft lips. I watch her carry her towel toward the water. I’ve got half a mind to go down there with her, but my daughter kicks her chubby legs in the air and gurgles and it steals my heart. I am the luckiest man on this earth. Living out here in this serene mountain paradise with my perfect little family, it almost feels like a dream.

  When I turned my back on society, I figured I’d be living out my days like a monk, isolated in reflective solitude. Not to mention the whole celibacy thing. Elsie obviously proved that one wrong in many ways.

  I slowly rock Olive as she drifts off to sleep.

  “Rock-a-bye-baby, on the treetop...."

  “Sawyer!" There’s unmistakable panic in Elsie’s voice.

  My head snaps up and. She only has a towel clinging to her chest. Elsie is doing a frantic scramble up the small hill from the stream. She looks fucking terrified. She must have seen a bear. Oh, hell, it’s early spring. What if she got between a mama and her cubs?

  I rush down the stairs and across the field and Olive cries out with surprise.

  "Elsie, What's wrong!"

  "I... I..."

  “What’s going on?” I search over her shoulder, expecting a big grizzly to appear on the bank.

  “There was… there is a… Sawyer, there’s a man!” She puffs out a big breath. “He’s coming… through the trees.”

  "What? Are you sure?” I squint at the forest edge.

  "Yes! He looks dangerous!"

  "Did he see you?"

  "I don't think so,” she crinkles her eyebrows in thought.

  "Take Olive and go barricade the door.”

  "Sawyer?"

  "GO!"

  I run back to the porch, grab my axe and make my way toward the stream.

  My heart thuds hard in my chest as I make my way down the stoney embankment. I haven't felt adrenaline like this since Afghanistan. Not since the days when my next move would either get me killed or let me live to fight another day.

  My fingers numb from the death-grip I have on my axe. I scan the trees for movement. The whole world seems too slow. Everything comes into focus. But I don't see anything.

  Slowly, I creep in past the tree canopy, blood surges my veins. I'm ready for battle. I'm ready to destroy anything or anyone who threatens my family.

  Crack!

  My head whirls toward the sound of the snapping branch, and then I see him. My breaths are shallow and I swallow hard as I watch the dark shadow move behind a large tree. I didn’t think it was possible to hold this axe tighter, but here’s my hand pinching into the wooden handle, proving me wrong.

  "Show yourself!"

  Nothing.

  "NOW!" I shout.

  “Sawyer, please, put the axe down!" I jump when he says my name. I wasn’t expecting that. And the little hairs on the back of my neck tingle, don’t I know that voice?

  “Who are you?” I squint into the shadows.

  I can’t believe it. “Cole?” I shake my head.

  “Sawyer, thank God I found you,” he steps toward me and I can see it’s him. I mean, sure he’s got a beard now, but so do I. There’s no mistaking my best friend’s face though. That’s Cole all right.

  “We're in fucking trouble,” his voice is pleading and his eyes lock onto mine. “We need your help."

  "We?"

  Cole turns to the side and from behind the dark trees, a woman steps out uncertainly from behind the pines.

  “Yeah. We. Please, help us.”

  Continue Reading For Cole’s Story

  Love on the Run

  Authors Note:

  This book was previously released as “Virgin for the Woodsman.”

  1

  Cole

  “I Fold,” Walsh tosses his cards down on the table, frowning.

  “Same,” Hernandez neatly stacks his cards, facedown and shakes his head. “I only have a hundred bucks to play with, I’m not blowing it all on a pissing contest between you two,” he jerks his thumbs over to me and Williams.

  Our barracks has eight guys, and that’s not bad for Afghanistan. Back on my first tour, we had double that all stuffed into these rounded, canvas buildings. Our accommodations look like a bigger versions of those pop-up car “garages” that appear in driveways as soon as we get the first snowfall back home.

&nbs
p; Winter, it’s almost become a foreign concept to me now. This is my second tour in the desert in less than three years. The first time I came over here I was young, single, putting my boots on foreign soil for the first time in my life. I was here with my best fucking bud from my early days in basic training. To say I was full of piss and vinegar is putting it mildly.

  I look around the room at the guys laying around in their cots, pretending not to care about the money they lost early in the night. The four of them are edged forward, staring at the table over the tops of their books and screens. This should be exhilarating. It’s down to just me and Williams and there’s a fifty percent chance I’m walking away with the pot, but it’s missing something. It’s kind of felt that way this whole tour.

  I’m still young, I’m still single, but none of this holds the same excitement as when I came over the first time. And, I’ve got every single guy’s back on my platoon but not one of them holds up to my old friend.

  A smile flickers over my lips as I imagine Sawyer, my old fire-team partner, up in his cabin in Alaska. I might not be able to remember what the snow and cold feel like after all this time in Afghanistan, but he’s living that winter life enough for the two of us.

  “What about you?” I nod at Williams. He lifts his chips up with his knuckles and shuffles them, like he’s some kind of Vegas high roller. All that’s missing is those douche-bag sunglasses those guys always wear inside.

  To me, if you need sunglasses to play poker, you’re telling me you can’t bluff. You feel like your eyes are going to give you away, so you’ve got to shield your tell from the world. Most people do have one, a tell, that is. Some people blink like the room just got drier. For others, it’s a micro-squint. There’s the throat-clearers. The stiffeners who sit a bit taller. And the people who can’t help that fraction of a second when the corners of their lips twist up or down.