Soldier On (17 page)

“Cats can’t open doors, Brandon.”

I hide my grin. She has to be the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met in my life.

“Well, I’m here now. Do you think Bangle would mind if I sat with her until the storm ends?”

Thunder booms again. This time, Steph jumps into my lap and buries her face against my neck. Finally free, Bangle takes the opportunity to make a mad dash for the bedroom.

“Traitor,” Steph mumbles.

I chuckle and wrap the blanket around us. Steph lays her head against my shoulder, and I hold her close as the rain batters the roof.

“I’m in your lap,” she says quietly.

“So you are.”

“That’s probably against the rules.”

“Probably.”

Regardless, she doesn’t move, and I’m not about to make her.

“I’ve always loved the rain,” she says. “Mom’s house has a metal roof. It can be so peaceful, as long as it’s just rain.”

”Metal roofs are the best when it rains. We have one, too. It’s just one of the many things I miss about home.”

Steph lifts her head and gazes at me thoughtfully. “For someone who misses home, you don’t talk about it much. Why is that?”

I don’t talk much about a lot of things.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me the things you miss.”

I ghost my fingers along her spine. “I miss the mountains. I miss the sound of the river and the smell of the pines. I miss my church. It’s this little country church buried in the woods. We have a congregation of about thirty people, but it can still get pretty loud. I miss my family. My sister needs her brother, and my nieces need their uncle, and I’m not there. And I really miss my dad.”

I don’t tell her that missing my father is nothing new. I’ve missed my dad for the past three years. She wouldn’t understand, and I’m not ready to explain it.

Lightning continues to flicker in the window, but now that she’s distracted, she doesn’t even notice the storm. I still hold her close, because I can.

“I miss my dog. His name’s Duke.”

She frowns, and I know what’s coming.

“Duke? As in
university
?”

“As in
Hazard
.”

She dissolves into a giggling fit.

“Stop that. I named him when I was nine. By the time I was old enough to realize I had named my beagle after one of Kentucky’s biggest basketball rivals, it was too late.” I shake my head and sigh. “Anyway, you asked. That’s what I miss about home.”

“It sounds nice. I’ve never seen the Appalachian Mountains.”

“Never?”

She shakes her head. “Mom worked two jobs. That didn’t leave a lot of time for vacations.”

“I’d like to show you the mountains.”

“I’d like to see them.”

“I’m going home for spring break. You should come with me.”

The offer slips out before I even realize what I’ve done. Am I nuts? Taking Steph home to Applewood is the worst possible idea in the world.

Then why does the thought make you so happy?

My mouth goes dry. It’s just not possible. Not yet. I’d have to ask my family to keep their mouth shut about the Army.

“I don’t know,” she says hesitantly. “I wouldn’t want to impose on family time. Plus, I planned on spending that week with my mom.”

I ignore the disappointment I feel and thank my lucky stars instead.

“I understand.”

We sit quietly, wrapped in the blanket and listening to the rain above our heads. Her hand rests on my stomach. She slowly slides her fingers down a little, causing my ab muscles to clench.

“Brandon?”

“Yeah?”

“That no-touching rule is stupid.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Then why haven’t you tried to break it?”

“Because it’s important to you.”

“It’s not so important to me anymore.”

The blanket drops to the floor as she shifts on my lap.

Facing me. Straddling me.

This is definitely against the rules.

Steph presses her entire body against mine, and my hands automatically find her waist. She shifts again, making us both groan.

Face-to-face.

Heartbeat to heartbeat.

It’s torture.

It’s heaven.

I close my eyes as she leans in, softly kissing each corner of my mouth. My right hand remains on her hip as the other slides into her hair. She shifts against me again, and I hold her tighter as her lips trail along my neck.

Let her lead.

My body is at war with my mind. I am a twenty-two year old man who has, up until now, desperately tried to be respectful of the boundaries she established. Rules were formed. Lines were drawn in the sand. And I have done everything I can to ignore how much I want her. How much I want to do . . . exactly what we’re doing.

Just with less clothes. And maybe on a bed.

“Brandon Walker, stop thinking about it and just kiss me.”

“What about the rules?”

“Screw the rules. They were stupid anyway and I nev—”

I kiss her. Hard. She groans and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me to her until we’re as close as we’ve ever been. For a few fantastic minutes, we’re all tongues and hands and moans, because it’s been a long time since we’ve touched and we’re both a little worked-up. But after a while, our frantic kisses slow to something much more familiar—something warm and soft and
real
.

We’re both breathless when we pull away. And, now, we can actually see each other’s faces because at some point, in the middle of the most awesome kiss of my life, the electricity came back on.

And Bangle joined us on the couch.

I eye the cat warily. “She’s going to claw my eyes out for touching you.”

Steph gives me the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen before lifting her blouse over her head, letting it fall to the floor.

“Then we better make it worth it,” she says.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Stephanie

I don’t care that a tornado could be over our heads or that my cat is watching us. I don’t even care that I’m wearing my boring, white, cotton bra. All that matters is that Brandon’s hands are on my skin and that his eyes are devouring me.

I slide up against him, causing him to grip my hips and hold me still. My mouth latches on to his ear, and the groan that vibrates from his chest causes me to jerk against him. He buries his face against my neck.

“I want this, Brandon. I want you.”

“I want you, too.”

He swallows my moan with another frantic kiss.

Should I tell him he’ll be the first? Is that important to a guy? Or will it turn him off completely? Does he have protection? I certainly don’t. Why hadn’t I thought about that
before
I climbed into his lap and ripped off my shirt?

He peppers my face with gentle kisses and whispers my name before finding my lips again. This time, the kiss is tender and sweet. It’s classic Brandon, and the very reason I love him.

I love him.

Should I tell him?

I hear Mom’s voice in my head, telling me to trust my heart.

“I love you, Brandon.”

His brown eyes snap open, and I can see the emotion there. His hands frame my face while his thumbs stroke my cheeks.

“I love you, too, Steph.”

We smile at each other, and then suddenly, our hands are everywhere, as if our confession gives us permission to do the things we’ve always wanted to do.

Desperate to feel his skin against mine, I reach for the hem of his cotton tee. We stop kissing just long enough to pull the shirt over his head. I toss it aside and crash my mouth against his. Brandon groans, and I feel his abs tighten beneath my touch as I slide my fingers from his navel up to his chest.

And that’s when I feel it.

Cold.

Metallic.

Familiar.

Breaking the kiss, I lean back, and my eyes lock on the ball chain around his neck.

“Steph? What’s . . .”

With trembling hands, I reach for the tags. Brandon follows my hands with his eyes, and then he immediately closes them in anguish.

They’re his dad’s tags. Right?

I take a deep breath and read the engraved print.

Walker. Brandon.

“Steph, I can explain.”

Not his dad’s.

I stare into his eyes and try to make sense of it, but nothing fits. How could I not know this? Why didn’t I feel the tags through his shirt? Why haven’t I seen him in his uniform? Is that why he works out every morning? Because he’s . . . he’s a . . .

My body sways as the room begins to spin. Brandon tightens his arms around me.

“Steph, I swear I wanted to tell you. You have no idea how much I’ve agonized over it. I just never found the right time, or the right words, because I knew you’d hate me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of that because I love you so much. I love you, Steph. I love you so much that I don’t even know if I
want
to be a soldier anymore, and I never thought that would happen. It was always the plan. Always. Not forever. I don’t want to be a soldier forever, but for now, this is what I am. For the next four years, this is
who
I am.”

Tears form in my eyes.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

I shake my head. “Not that, you jerk. Say it.”

“Steph, please listen to me.”

“Say it!”

He closes his eyes.

“I’m a soldier,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I am a soldier in the United States Army.”

In a daze, I climb off his lap and grab my shirt. I pull it on and then walk around the room, blowing out the candles. A thousand questions swirl around in my head, but I don’t want to ask them. Because then I’d have to hear his voice, and I don’t want to hear his voice anymore.

“Steph, please . . .”

I head to my bedroom, and Brandon follows me down the hallway. I turn around just outside my door.

“Steph . . .”

He reaches for me, but the look on my face must convince him otherwise, because he quickly reconsiders, letting his arms drop to his sides.

“Pack your shit, and get out of my apartment.”

And I slam the door in his face.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Stephanie

Three days pass. I only know this because I’m too afraid to let my cell phone die completely. If Mom tried to call me, and I didn’t answer, she’d be here in a second, and the last thing I need is my mother.

I don’t need anybody.

Not that they haven’t tried. My phone’s blowing up constantly. Brandon. Tessa. Brandon. Tessa. Xavier. My text messages are insane, and my voicemail is finally, blissfully, full. I did reply to one of Tessa’s texts, and I spoke to my mother once, just to let them know I’m alive.