Home Sweet Home: A Sweet, Texas Novella (4 page)

A slow intake of air stuttered in his chest. “Until the day they sent me home, and I had to leave him behind.”

“Leave him behind?” The idea was unimaginable. “Why?”

“Not allowed to bring them to the U.S.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Pretty much.”

The shadows that veiled his eyes told Paige all she needed to know. Leaving that dog behind had stripped him of anything left in his soul.

She curled her fingers around his arm. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

The broad, strong shoulders that bore the weight of so much grief lifted in a shrug. “Someone mentioned an organization that helps bring back soldier’s dogs. But there are no guarantees.”

“Oh, Aiden.” She pulled him into her arms and embraced him. “I’m so sorry.”

“I left him with my team, and they’ll treat him right.” His hands settled lightly on her hips. “But all I can think about is his sitting there, wondering why I abandoned him.”

Paige’s heart broke in a million pieces. Aiden was not the type of man to abandon anything or anyone. Though a poor dog alone in the middle of a desert war zone wouldn’t know that.

As water tumbled over the rocks in the creek and moved along the sand, Paige felt Aiden close himself off. Everything inside him seemed to be at war with the peaceful surroundings. As if he didn’t deserve to be there. As if only a part of him stood on solid ground.

“Sorry.” His chest expanded on a stuttered sigh. “I just really loved that dog. And I worry about him. I worry about what will happen to him when my team leaves.”

“Of course you do.” She pressed her cheek against his chest. Heard the unbalanced beat of his heart. She couldn’t change what had happened. She could only offer him the chance to forget. “I’m so sorry.”

If only for a moment.

Lifting her head, she looked up into the handsome face she’d known since before she’d learned to tie her shoes. While the moon glowed above them, a dragonfly skimmed the rippling waters, and the click-click of the cicadas surrounded them as they looked into each other’s eyes.

Heat and tension pulled them together, and their lips touched on a brief kiss. He pressed his forehead against hers, and Paige curled her fingers around the back of his neck.

“I missed you,” she whispered. “So much.”

His dark gaze moved slowly over her face. The memories of lying in his arms, kissing him, tasting him, caught like a sigh in her chest. “Touch me, Aiden.”

“My hands are dirty, Paige. I don’t want—”

She knew that in his mind, he could never clean them enough to wash away what he’d had to do with them in the war. She stepped back. Instead of relief in his eyes, she saw sorrow. Hunger. Whatever battle raged within him, Paige knew she could give him the one thing he’d missed for God knew how long.

Comfort.

She grasped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Then she reached between her breasts, unlatched the plain white cotton bra, and tossed it to the ground. She took a step forward until the tips of her breasts met with the smooth, worn cotton of his shirt.

“Touch me, Aiden.” She let her fingertips waltz across his strong jawline. “Let me welcome you home like I’ve always dreamed.”

HOW COULD HE RESIST?

Good intentions told him to pick up her clothes and hand them back to her. Good intentions told him to walk away. She deserved better.

Good intentions did not move lower in his body.

Everything below his belt was running on heat, emotion, and need. He’d loved Paige the day he’d tossed his duffel on his back and headed off to basic training. He’d loved her when his boots had hit the volatile sands of Afghanistan. He’d loved her when he’d read her heartwarming letters over and over—yet he’d rarely responded.

For her sake.

He was responding now. To her inner strength. Her optimism. Her unwillingness to give up on him.

For his sake.

Paige. The woman who’d waited for him. Even when there had been a significant chance he would never come home.

For weeks, months—hell, even years—he’d dreamed of holding her close. Touching her. Tasting her. Devouring her. Holding her close and never letting her go.

Instead of walking away as he should, he curved his palms over her smooth shoulders, drew her close, and pressed his mouth to hers.

The soft touch of her lips brought him back to a place where he felt strong. Whole. And mindless of anything but his need for her. The womanly scent of her skin urged him to move forward and never look back. But that was an impossibility.

His hand slid down the curve of her spine, cupped her bottom, and brought her tight against his erection. The instantaneous relief made him close his eyes and inhale a breath of air to clear the dizziness from his head.

She leaned into him, rose to the balls of her feet, and wrapped her arms around his neck with a sigh. His arms surrounded her, and they came together—heart to heart. His gaze swept over her plump, moist mouth, and their lips met again. Their tongues touched and danced.

And in that moment, the past simply melted away.

He could kiss her all day, all night, and it would never be enough.

Her fingers were cool as they slipped beneath his shirt to pull the fabric over his head. And then they stood flesh to flesh. Her body was warm, lush, and full of promise. Sweet memories and hope.

Desire burned inside of him as she briefly broke their embrace to grab a quilt stuck in the fork of the apple tree and spread it on the ground. And then she was back in his arms, touching him. Caressing him with heated silk that glided along his nerve endings, making his heart race, his desire spin out of control.

She unzipped his jeans, slid them down his legs, and tossed them into the increasing pile of clothes. In utter bliss, he closed his eyes as she kissed her way back up his thighs. Her long, delicate fingers embraced, stroked, and enticed his already throbbing erection. When she cupped him with gentle hands and took him into her mouth with a low hum of satisfaction, it was everything he could do not to buckle at his knees in complete surrender.

For a moment, he stood there with his hands buried in the thick of her honey-gold hair, selfish with the need to feel whole again. But that greed only lasted a minute before he became anxious with the desire to be one with her. To bury himself deep within her warmth. To be held in her arms.

He dropped to his knees, eased her back to the quilt, and followed her down. His hands molded to her full breasts, smoothed down her luscious curves. He bent his head and kissed her mouth, then he moved lower to savor the erect tips of her breasts. She tasted like sunshine, and honey, and all the good things he remembered about being alive.

“Paige. I don’t have a condom. I haven’t been with anyone, but I still need to protect you.”

“Shhh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. I’ve got this covered. And I haven’t been with anyone either.”

To know she’d waited for him in every way kicked his heartbeat into a frantic race. And then, all he could do was make quick work of removing her jeans and tiny pink panties and adding them to the pile of clothes beneath the apple tree.

Her warm, soft lips danced across his chest, and she looked up at him with a smile in her eyes. “I like your tattoo.”

He gave a brief glance to the eagle in flight that covered his left biceps, then leaned down and licked the small heart tattooed just above her left breast. “I like yours too.”

“I put it there for you,” she whispered. “Not that I’d ever forget you.”

“I could never forget you either.” Touched by the token of how she felt about him, he moved over her. All thought of right or wrong disappeared, and all that mattered was being with Paige.

With their bodies pressed together, she parted her legs in invitation. When he slid inside her, he was instantly gripped by the rush of slick, moist heat. The connection they made stole his breath. It had been so damned long since he’d felt something so wonderful. And while he wanted to savor that sensation, his body did not want to concede.

He lowered his forehead to hers and kissed her until he could quell the need to pump hard for a fast release.

When his mind finally got the signal, they settled into slow, languid movements that allowed him to soak in every tiny sensation that spiraled through their connected bodies.

“I’m so glad you’re home.” She sighed against his ear.

For the moment, he was glad too.

Before his demons returned to mess with his thoughts, he gave Paige all his attention. He made slow, sweet love to her as if he were still the man he used to be. When they came together with a final thrust and a long moan, Aiden realized that he’d give anything to be the man Paige wanted him—needed him—to be.

But as much as he wanted it to be true, he also realized it was impossible to resurrect the dead. And the man she needed never came home.

CONTENT AND SATED in Aiden’s arms, Paige knew the exact moment his past came crashing down. His body suddenly tensed at the sounds of nature that had surrounded them the entire night. Yet now, he reacted as if they were the enemy.

Oh, he wasn’t showing her any of that, but when you knew the boy before he’d become the man—the man before he’d become the soldier—it wasn’t hard to see.

Her only alternative became distraction.

She rolled to her side and laid her head on his shoulder. Then she took advantage of his perfect, masculine chest and let her fingers play in the short, soft, fine hairs. “We can do that again anytime you’re ready.”

To her delight, he chuckled.

“I’ve been out of commission for so long, recovery could go either way.”

“Mmmm.” She leaned in and kissed him. “I’m willing to wait.”

In that moment, his body tensed in a whole different way. And though she tried to drag her arm across him to hold him in place, she did not succeed. Before she could mutter the words “What are you doing?” he was up and tugging on his clothes.

Damn.

“What’s the hurry?” she asked.

His hands stopped on his jeans midzip, and he looked at her through eyes filled with regret.

Dammit.

“I’m sorry, Paige.”

“Don’t say that.” When she realized he wasn’t going to come back and lie down beside her, she felt exposed and got up to dress. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“The hell there isn’t.” The zipper on his jeans slid to the top, and he shook that old gray T-shirt like a flag of surrender. “I just took advantage of you.”

“Are you crazy?” She yanked her T-shirt over her head. “I’m no strawberry shortcake, Aiden. I wanted you. You wanted me. That’s consensual need. Not exploitation.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You beautiful fool.” A humorless laugh pushed past her lips. She looked up at him through the moonlight. “I’ve waited years for you to do exactly that.”

“And that’s the problem.” He jammed his fingers into his short hair, gripped hard, then dropped his hands to his lean hips. “I didn’t come see you today for this.” He waved his hand toward the quilt on the ground.

“I know that.” She folded her arms across her chest as if they would hold back all the emotions. All the things she wanted to say to him. All the words he seemed damned and determined to say to her.

“I came … to tell you good-bye.” His tone was quiet. His words flat. Empty. Hollow. Devastating.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “You’re leaving again?”

“Not that kind of good-bye.”

The finality in those words slammed into her like a speeding bullet.

“So you’re not just leaving.” Emotion clogged her throat, and the words came out in hoarse disbelief. “You’re leaving me.”

He glanced away as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. When his gaze came back, his eyes were nearly black, like the reflection of a truly lost soul.

“I’m sorry, Paige. I’m broken. And I’m pretty damned sure nothing can fix me.”

“That’s bull.”

He shook his head. “The person you knew, who went to war, never came back. You deserve better than what I have to give.”

“The man I knew is standing right here. Feeding me a bunch of crap I don’t believe.”

“Move on, Paige. Forget about me.” He glanced away again, and Paige knew even he was having a hard time believing his own words. Then those dark, haunted eyes came right back to her. “I can’t love you.”

“Can’t? Or don’t?” She sucked in a lungful of air to calm the desperation churning like acid in her heart. “Because there’s a difference.”

His chin dropped to his chest, and he shook his head. “Too much has happened.”

“Maybe so. But you’re wrong, Aiden. You’re still the man you used to be. Only more.” Paige kept her voice calm. Yelling wouldn’t get through to him. He had to arrive at conclusions on his own. No amount of whining, crying, or persuading would do a bit of good. She just had to state the facts, then give him time. She’d already given him plenty. What were a few more days, weeks, months?

“I love you, Aiden.” The confession that jumped from her mouth was not a surprise to either of them. “I always have. If I have to give you up because you’ve fallen in love with someone else, I’ll do it. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it. Because your happiness means everything to me.”

Her fingers curled into her palms. “But I will not give you up and let this sorrow swallow you and make you disappear. I can’t do that.”

He stood silent, looking away into the darkness. Then his eyes came back to hers, and she saw the pain. The heartache. The reluctance to actually take those steps in the opposite direction.

“You may have given up on you.” Slowly she shook her head and held back the wash of tears that burned in her eyes. “But I never will.”

Several heartbeats passed while they stood an arm’s length away from each other in a stare-down that Paige swore she would win. At their feet, Cricket roused from her nap and gave a little whine as if she sensed the tension in the air.

Paige stood in place, resolute that she would not bend in her belief. No matter what he said or what he did.

The pressure in her chest squeezed harder as he bent at the knees and gave Cricket a brisk rub on her head. Then he stepped forward and wrapped Paige in his arms. He held her tight. Kissed her forehead. And then completely broke her heart.