Military Romance Collection

by E Cleveland

  “This?”

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” I try to act nonchalant, like I drink all the time and it’s no big thing.

  “You didn’t strike me as someone who’d enjoy straight whiskey, but sure, knock yourself out,” he holds it out to me skeptically.

  I unscrew the cap and peer over at the look of amusement pasted to Cole’s face. Something about his smirk makes me dig my heels in and I take a huge mouthful of burning fire, struggling to swallow it without coughing. I try to keep my face straight as the flames burn a path down my throat. I can feel the heat reach my stomach and spread out.

  Cole laughs at me and the fire in my belly is nothing compared to the angry heat spreading across my cheeks.

  “What’s so funny?” I sulk.

  “Nothing, you just didn’t look like you really enjoyed that,” he looks like he’s biting the inside of his cheeks, but I can still see his smile.

  I squint my eyes at him and pull the bottle back up to my lips, tossing another swig. This time the edge is toned down and when it hits my belly, my head feels fuzzy, like I took too much NyQuil.

  “All right there tiger, save some for the rest of us,” Cole grasps the bottle from my hand, screwing the lid back on and stashes it next to him.

  “I told you I was fine,” I giggle unconvincingly.

  “Yep, you’re a regular booze hound. Probably drink me right under the table if we had one up here,” he shakes his head and pulls out his notebook.

  “Can I see your drawings?” I try to look inside the cracked cover of his journal. Normally I wouldn’t be so bold, but the booze is making me loosen up a bit.

  “Sure, go to town,” he tosses it over in my lap and I open the first few pages until I see a drawing.

  It’s the waterfall he brought me to, even though it’s only in pencil, I can almost see the sparkling drops splashing off the water. “That’s beautiful,” I trace my fingers over the page. Cole doesn’t answer, he just watches me as I flip the page and look at an intricate drawing of a log house. It looks so cozy and inviting, I feel like I can see myself walking in by the large, wooden front door and making myself at home. “Where is this?” I pull my eyes away from his work and meet his.

  “It doesn’t exist. When I first came out here, that was my dream,” he nods at the page. “Maybe I’ll make it a reality now that I have to move further in.” He opens the bottle and takes another small sip before handing it to me. This time, I don’t feel like I have anything to prove, I’m not so tightly wound up and I just take a small swig too.

  “It looks amazing,” I hand him back his book and the bottle. “So, what’s the deal? Were you some kind of artist before all this happened? You obviously have talent,” my tongue feels a bit thick, but it doesn’t stop me from prying. I want to know everything about Cole. I want to ask him his entire life story. I want to learn his favorite foods, where he’s lived, what his family is like. However, I know I’ll never have time to learn it all. Not before he dumps me back in Whitehorse and disappears into the Yukon wild. I might not have all the time I want with him, but I’m going to make the most of what time I do have.

  “No, definitely not an artist,” he shakes his head emphatically and leans back against one of the two trees this hill is nestled between.

  “So then, what did you do? You know, out there,” I wave my hand vaguely.

  “Guess,” his lips twist up into another smirk, a playful one this time, not at my expense.

  I lean back on my hands and shamelessly soak him in from his shaggy hair to his legs. Well, I almost make it as far as his legs, but something between them distracts me. “You don’t look like a salesman,” I think out loud.

  “You got that right,” his eyes twinkle and my heart beats a little faster.

  “A carpenter?” After living in the cabin he built with his own hands, it seems most likely.

  “Nope,” he’s enjoying this.

  “Umm, I’m gonna say you were a man in uniform.” From the way his eyes grow wider, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. “A paramedic!” I say too excitedly.

  “What? Paramedic? Why?” His dark eyebrows furrow together.

  “I don’t know, I guess because of how well you took care of my ankle. I could see you helping people that way for a living,” I reason.

  “No, you were right about the uniform, but not a paramedic. I was in the US military. A sniper,” his voice is flat.

  “Really?” My heart begins to flutter in my chest. “So, you did the exact opposite of saving lives then, huh? You killed people?” I whisper my question like we’re in the middle of a bustling, city coffee shop and I’m worried about what the people at the next table might overhear.

  Cole shrugs and opens the bottle again, taking another drink. “It’s all perspective,” he answers, holding it out for me.

  I take it from his hands and don’t hesitate this time in taking another drink. The burning sensation is completely gone now, but the warmth in my belly seems to be spreading through my limbs. “How so?”

  “Well, I had to take out guys who were directly responsible for the deaths of many Americans. Sometimes they were behind terrorist attacks that killed hundreds of people at a time. So, I took them out, and yes, ended their lives, but how many got to live as a result?”

  I pass the bottle back to him and mull over his words. He’s not wrong, of course, I guess I just wasn’t thinking of the bigger picture.

  “Sometimes the only option is to kill,” he says softly and gulps another mouthful of the amber liquid.

  “Hey, so if you were a sniper, why didn’t you kill Trent that way?” the question slides off the end of my tongue before I really have a chance to think it through.

  I shouldn’t have asked.

  As storm clouds brew in Cole’s eyes, I wish I had never mentioned him at all. I literally bite my tongue until it hurts.

  “For one,” his voice is so cold that my forearms break out in gooseflesh, “it would be beyond irresponsible for me to kill him that way in a city. You never know what could go wrong or who could get hurt.” Cole’s scruffy jaw juts out angrily. “And for two, I wanted to see the fucker’s face when I ended his pathetic life,” he clamps his mouth shut and frowns down at his hands.

  24

  Cole

  The forest that is normally alive with chirping and chattering of wildlife falls silent. I swear I can hear Abbie’s eyelids blinking at me in surprise at my dark confession.

  It’s true. I was happy to watch him die. I wanted him to see the face of the man who made him suck the last lungful of oxygen into his body before I blew his brains out. I wouldn’t say that it gave me closure on April’s death, but it was as close as I could get.

  The darkness swirls inside me, it’s a tornado that I know too well. I’m familiar with its powerful pull into depression. I’ve seen those depths of despair and I’m in no hurry to explore them again.

  I force myself to breathe, closing my eyes, I push away the rage, the mourning and the confusion. I know it won’t be that long before they overwhelm me again, knocking me on my ass, but not today.

  Not right now.

  “Sorry.” I open my eyes and try to keep my tone soft. “It’s just all still bubbling right under the surface, you know? I didn’t mean to scare you,” Abbie’s face returns to normal instead of looking like one of those Disney princesses whose eyes take up half their face. She twists her hair into a long coil, looking up at me.

  “I shouldn’t have asked,” she frowns for a second.

  “Nope, don’t worry about it, okay? So, you were asking me about drawing, well, I always had an interest,” I try desperately to change the subject and lighten the mood back up. “But once I came out here I had a lot of time to pursue it. It’s given me time to try different techniques like cross hatching and shading, but I’m never going to be some kind of Rembrandt. Still, I’m getting better and it’s a great way to relax, so it’s nice,” I know I’m over-explaining, I just want the
tension on Abbie’s face to disappear. I want the light afternoon of chilling together not to be spoiled by my anger.

  Abbie bites her fleshy lip and peers up at me. I can see another question forming on the tip of her tongue. Hopefully this time I can keep my emotions under control.

  “Could you… draw me?” She blushes furiously and looks down at the ground.

  “Draw you? Like now?” It’s not the question I was expecting. I smile at her shy request. “I could never capture how beautiful you are,” I answer truthfully. “I could study art for years and never do you justice.”

  “Please?” Her voice is small but powerful. She’s not taking no for an answer.

  I look at how she’s poised in the sun, the way her beautiful eyes are both seductive and sweet at the same time. “I’ll try,” I agree, lifting the bottle back up and taking another drink before thrusting it out at her.

  She looks way too happy with my answer. I think she’s going to be disappointed when she comes out looking less like the Mona Lisa and more like Lisa Simpson. Still, it would be nice to have a drawing of her after she goes.

  Not that I will ever forget her.

  25

  Abbie

  I’m lying back on the warm grass and watching the clouds overhead turn into giant Macy’s Parade floating cartoons. I swear that I’ve already watched Mickey Mouse and my favorite princess of all time, Belle, go floating by in the warm sun. Cole told me I didn’t need to sit like a statue after I held my unnatural pose for the first five minutes and started to cramp up in my back. He laughed at me, telling me to just relax, so I decided lying down was probably the best thing to do.

  I explore the hilltop with my gaze, soaking in the tiny wild flowers beginning to blossom in the ankle high grass. Growing up in the city, I never had a lot of time in nature as a child. However, I always treasured when my mother took me camping. It was only for one week a year, but those seven days made me feel like an ancient explorer discovering a new world. I remember spending hot, lazy days in a cabin by the lake and chasing frogs to proudly show my mother. One time, we spent the entire afternoon making beautiful necklaces from flowers. It was always so wonderful to have her entirely to myself. As a single mom, she had to be the breadwinner. Sometimes she was stretched pretty thin, so I loved those days when I had her all to myself and the only worry we had in the day was what we would eat for dinner.

  My eyes drift back into focus from a time gone by and zero in on a dandelion about five feet away. While the other yellow weeds are just starting to open their golden heads, this one is already white and wispy, ready to spread its aged seeds of wisdom to bring the next generation into existence.

  “Hey, is it okay if I get up?” I don’t want to interrupt Cole’s process, but I can’t contain my excitement over my find.

  “I’m pretty much done here, so knock your socks off,” he looks up from the paper he’s been unblinkingly working on with a wink. Heat floods through me, spreading from my cheeks down my chest and billowing out between my thighs. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I’ve met many men in my life, but not a single one who could so innocently wink at me and reduce me to a quivering pile of intense desire.

  I try not to let myself stare at him like a puppy dog, instead refocusing on the dandelion across the way. I clumsily manage to get my feet under me and the world swirls around me in a mosaic of green hues while my eyes try to track properly, but have a hard time keeping things straight. It hasn’t helped that I’ve probably drank more booze this afternoon than I’ve ever consumed in my life.

  I pluck my walking stick from the ground, genuinely in need of the stability it can provide. Not because of my ankle, but my alcohol induced double vision. I don’t want to look like a lush, so I manage to force my feet forward and stumble over to the weeds.

  Lucky for me, Cole isn’t expecting me to be able to walk a straight line with the injury I’ve been playing up. I reach the fluffy white-haired flower and sink down to the ground, picking it from the ground where the stem meets the dirt.

  Holding it reverently in my hands, I smile at the little spikes of seeds attached to the pale, dimpled head. My mind flashes back to simpler days, when Mama and I spent long days at the camp letting our skin get kissed with bronze from the summer sun.

  “Make a wish, Abbie,” I can still hear her voice, like she’s sitting beside me now. I want to reach out and grab her hand. I want to feel her arms around me, but I know she’s gone. I know the voice I hear is only in my memory.

  Still, I close my eyes and let my heart explore my deepest desire. What do I want more than anything in the world? It doesn’t take much soul searching to come up with the answer. I want to feel this way forever. I want every day to be filled with the magic of adventure.

  I want him.

  I blow on the seeds and watch as they float over the field, some dropping on the grass quickly, while others lift up to the sky, carrying with them my deepest wish.

  “I’m finished,” Cole calls out, and I open my eyes and look back over my shoulder at him.

  With the help of my jingling walking stick, I manage to find myself moving back toward him.

  “Well, what do you think?” he tilts the journal so I have full view of the page. My mouth opens, but no noise comes out. I can’t believe how beautiful he’s drawn me. Is that how he sees me? I look up at him in awe.

  “You hate it, don’t you? I told you that I couldn’t do you justice,” he lets the book fall from his hands next to him.

  “No! That’s not it at all,” I protest weakly, but I can’t stop looking at his lips.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings,” his voice is dry. I can hear his words and the exact opposite meaning underneath them.

  “I love it,” I interrupt him. “I think,” the words are a cyclone in my head, “I’m pretty sure that I love… you,” my breath is hot as I exhale, burning my lips. Before I have time to overthink it, before I have time to second guess it, I lean into him and put my burning lips on his. Softly kissing him.

  26

  Cole

  Our tongues explore each other feverishly. I can taste her longing as I thread my fingers through her hair and pull her into me tight. Abbie climbs on top of me, straddling me between her legs and grinds her pussy against me.

  My mind shuts off and my body runs on pure instinct as my cock grows rigid and my hands slide up her shirt to cup her breasts.

  Abbie breaks our kiss and looks into my eyes as she slowly peels her shirt off and tosses it to the ground beside us. She leans into me, pressing her tits into my face. “I need you, Cole,” her voice is raspy and desperate. Like a junkie crying out for their next fix. I feel her heat between her legs tempting me. Her rosy nipples begging to be sucked and teased by my mouth.

  Somehow, through the fog of lust contorting my thoughts, I realize this is wrong. Every primal urge I have, every instinct inside me is trying to overrule the judgement, trying to let me forget my morals and succumb to her untouched temptation, but deep inside, I know this isn’t the way.

  I slowly slide my hands down her shoulders and over her smooth arms until I grasp her hands in mine. “I can’t. Not like this,” the words hurt me as much as they seem to hurt her. Abbie’s face twists up and for a moment, I think she might cry.

  “No, listen to me, I know what I’m doing. I want you, Cole. Please, let me do this,” she breaks her hands free from mine and runs them through my hair as she presses her tits against my mouth. I breathe out over her already taut nipple and it becomes a hard nub against my lip. I press my hips up against her and she rewards me by thrusting herself down on me.

  Lifting her up, I brace her with my arms as I roll her down onto the ground and pin her beneath me. Abbie’s eyes grow wide as I press myself hard against her virgin pussy. An unruly wave of passion crashes over me, disarming my better senses and I hold her body in place with my grinding cock, but keep her head on the ground as I cover her mouth in a hard kiss.
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  Circling my hand around both her wrists, I wrench her hands up over her head and look down at her wide green eyes. Behind the desperation for my touch, I can see her nervousness.

  This isn’t okay.

  “We’re not doing this, Abbie. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you want,” I look her in the eyes, but she turns her head from me.

  “I do know what I want, Cole. I want you. Why won’t you let me do this?” She feebly tries to meet my mouth in another kiss but I pull away and her lips push out in a pout. Goddamn she’s not making this easy. I want to pull her pushed out bottom lip in over my teeth and give it a little nip. I want to rip her pants off and put her over my knee for testing me like this right before I slam my cock inside her until her tight little pussy takes every last drop of my cum.

  “Do you think it’s easy for me to say no to you? I’m dying here, Abbie, but it’s not right to fuck you, not when you’re drunk.” She turns away from me and her cheeks burn crimson. I hook my finger under her chin and tilt her face back to mine, “Listen, you’ve never done this before, so there must be a reason you’ve been waiting. I don’t think that after a long day of drinking out in the sun it’s the best time to decide whether or not you’ve changed your mind on that, alright? Let me take you back inside, have some food, drink some water, get some sleep and if you still want this… if you still want me,” my voice rumbles and my cock throbs at the thought, “if you haven’t changed your mind tomorrow then, trust me sweetheart, I’d be happy to make you mine.” The thought makes me growl my words with deep, guttural need. Before she can protest anymore, I stand up and hold my hand out for her to grab.

  Abbie reaches up, but she won’t meet my gaze anymore. Her face is flushed and she quickly scurries over to where she tossed her shirt and slips it back on. Turning her back to me, she wipes her hands over her face. Damn it. I made her cry. That’s the last thing I wanted to do. Can’t she see that I’m trying to do the right thing?