“Looks good to me,” he said, tasting her skin, not giving a fuck about his hair.
“You haven’t seen it,” she gasped.
“Wasn’t talking about the haircut, Holly.”
Rearing out of his seat, he picked her up and sat her on the table. His momentum rocked her backward and he followed, planting one hand on the wood top right behind her gorgeous ass, the other at the nape of her neck. Holding her in place.
And then he kissed her.
Like her kiss, it was full of intent and downright X-rated.
Unlike her kiss, there wasn’t anything slow about how he stormed her mouth.
He couldn’t get enough of her, and like a predator let off-leash, he didn’t waste any time getting to what he really wanted—this woman, warm and soft and ready for more. Inside the tight confines of his arms, she wiggled closer, sliding her hands all over his bare torso.
Had he really worried about taking his shirt off? He’d never felt stronger, bigger, tougher. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth as he eased out of the kiss, rocking the pad of his thumb over the wet flesh as he pulled back just enough to catch her gaze.
“What do you like?”
She laughed, a slightly out-of-control shaky giggle that made him kiss her all over again.
“I like that,” she said as she chased his mouth when he pulled away again.
“How far can we go?”
“Do you have a condom?” she asked in a quick, breathless rush.
He nodded, his dick surging full of blood at the promise of being put into action.
“I can be quiet,” she whispered, rolling off the sports bra that had stymied him earlier, baring her breasts.
He wasn’t sure he could be, but he would. Oh, God, he would.
Ducking his head, he breathed in the sugary sweetness of her skin, his mouth watering as he lost himself in her soft swells. Her breathy sounds turned to the quietest of groans as he tugged first one peak, then the other into his mouth. Her nipples were like raspberries, nubby and sweet on his tongue, and as she arched against him, grinding her pussy against his abdomen, he was struck with the need to know how she tasted all over.
Dropping to his knees, he curled his fingers under her waistband, shaking with the divided need to get her naked and not be a complete brute. She lifted her hips, giving him some clearance to slide her spandex pants down her legs, and then she froze.
From behind him, a whimper came across the baby monitor.
He dropped his head to her thigh, and she laughed, a half-hysterical, half-understanding giggle that made him like her all the more.
“I should go,” she said with a groan, tugging him back to his feet. She kissed his chest, then looped her hands behind his head. “We’ll do this again soon? And maybe do some of that talking we thought about earlier?”
“Yes, to both,” he muttered, kissing her hard and fast before handing back her bra.
Over the monitor, another weak cry, this time calling out for Daddy, and she pushed him toward the stairs. “Go. I’ll let myself out.”
— THIRTEEN —
“M
UST be nice to just sit around and watch everyone else dig trenches and do section attacks all day,” Tom Minelli drawled as he handed Ryan a hot cup of coffee.
“Yep.” Ryan nodded to the back of the military transport truck, and they hoisted themselves up to sit, legs dangling above the still dew-wet grass. At the moment, the troops were getting breakfast from hay boxes set up on the other side of the command centre clearing. Ryan and his two quartermaster staff would eat after everyone else headed back into the field for the day’s military exercise. “Speaking of which, has the CO talked to you about being the CQ next year?”
“Why do you think I brought you coffee? What’s going on?” In their regiment, company quartermasters often stayed in that post for a number of years before being promoted out. Ryan had only been the CQ for a year, but he’d had a quiet chat with his commanding officer and the Regimental Sergeant Major about stepping back into a regular infantry grunt role at the next re-jigging of the command structure.
“I don’t know. I’ve only got a few more years, ya know? I want to do the fun stuff. Blow shit up, lead a night raid.”
“Kind of screws you up for promotion.”
“I don’t care about that.” And he really didn’t. Everything had changed with Lynn’s death. “I’m going to have to find a new day job. Something with more regular hours than being a paramedic. If I stay in the Army, too, it’s gotta be something for
me
.”
“Wow. That sounds…healthy.”
Ryan snorted. “Better late than never, right?”
“So who’s got the kids this weekend?”
“Your sister and Jake. Good practice for them, she said.” Tom was the third-oldest Minelli sibling. Zander, the oldest, was in the reg forces out west, the only one of their friends to go career Army. Rafe was the next oldest, and he was currently on the other side of the breakfast line, jacking up some young corporal for not shaving properly. Tom was a few years younger than Ryan, and his sister Dani had the misfortune of being the only girl and the baby. When she’d started dating Jake Foster, everyone had something to say.
Dani didn’t care, and neither did Jake—who was also in the reserves, but he’d skipped the weekend exercise officially because of work, but unofficially, Ryan knew he was playing Uncle Jake, and he appreciated that more than his friend might ever know.
“God, I’m going to be an uncle again before too long, aren’t I?”
Ryan grinned. “Probably. I think Dani’s just vain enough to want to look good in her wedding dress, but…”
“Dude, that’s my sister!”
“You started it. Besides, she was my junior medic. I don’t want to think of her like that, either.”
“So. Hockey?”
“Yep. Flames are doing well,” Ryan laughed as Tom made a face—he was a Canucks fan.
“Their lucky streak has to run out sometime.” Nobody in Pine Harbour was a Flames fan, although that would change when Zander came home.
“Let me guess, your brother is being insufferable about it.”
“He’s such an asshole. I told him he couldn’t stay with me when comes back this summer.” Tom shrugged at Ryan’s surprised look. “Yeah, I know, he’s visiting a lot lately. Gearing up to get out, I guess. He’s talking about starting a security company here, if you want to get in on that with him.”
“Maybe.” It didn’t really excite Ryan, but work was work. He’d needed to step back and focus on his kids, but in the last few weeks—since Holly crept into his life—he’d been thinking hard about what the future would look like. At the moment he was coasting, but it wouldn’t take much for that to turn into drifting, and before he knew it, he’d be a slacker without a job, with kids who were growing up and what would he be modelling for them?
He needed
something
. But it had to be regular day-time hours. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Zander when he’s back next.”
“The Park Service might have openings, too…” Tom trailed off. He was a park ranger, which was a great job, but those wouldn’t be the positions that would come up. Starting over again in his mid-thirties wasn’t the same as looking for a job straight out of college. “Anyway, yeah, I’m good to take on the CQ hat. You gonna show me all the secrets?”
“Definitely.”
They finished their coffee in silence, then made their way to the breakfast line. Ryan rubbed his chest, trying like hell not to think about his kids. Jake would probably be making them waffles right about now, before heading to work for the day. Dani had said something about baking cookies. They were having a blast and he shouldn’t worry.
He did, though, and he felt a heavy ache of relief an hour later when Dani texted a picture of Maya, elbow deep in a mixing bowl.
Thank you
, he messaged back.
Stop worrying
, his friend responded, and he winced. Was he that obvious?
He spent the rest of the day making himself busy, and when night fell, he left the CQ in the hands of his storeman and went to find the enemy party commander. For most training exercises, they asked another regiment to provide a small attack force, and that group operated independently, providing a realistic challenge.
“Sir,” he said, snapping to attention.
“Sergeant Howard, how can I help you?”
“Well, sir, I was hoping I could help you. Need another man for your midnight raid?”
“And how do you know we’re going to do a midnight raid?” The captain grinned at him, and Ryan smiled right back.
“Lucky guess.”
— —
From the deck of the lake house, she couldn’t actually see Ryan’s place. The foliage on the forest was too dense, and the deck was just off-angle to see up the lane. But the row of cottages between the two homes was quiet today, everyone else either inside or away on this lazy Sunday. The security fence had been taken down the day before, as they’d moved to their last filming location, this time in town. So when she heard a big vehicle—a truck, maybe—her heart skipped a beat. And when her phone lit up a few seconds later, the most ridiculous grin split her face in two.
Back from that weekend thing. Gotta get the kids in a few. Are you around?
Shoving her notebook and blanket into the Adirondack chair she’d officially claimed as her own, she dashed down the steps and up the lane. She was breathless as she skidded to a stop on his porch, where he’d piled a shocking amount of Army green stuff.
When he stepped out of the kitchen, slowing to a stop as he caught sight of her, she did geeky jazz hands because she was nervous. And it didn’t help that he looked extra good.
Oh my God,
she thought.
Why does this man not walk around in fatigues all the time?
On the top, he was stripped down to just a green t-shirt, and his camouflaged pants rode low on his hips. The imposing black leather boots gave him an extra inch of height he definitely didn’t need. In his regular clothes, Ryan was six-foot-something of down-home deliciousness. Now he was a warrior giant, big and bad and all hers…for the time being.
“So yeah…I’m around,” she said, her voice doing a weird sing-song thing that made the jazz hands look totally normal.
Oh god
.
The look on his face made it all worthwhile. He held her gaze for a moment, his own smile slower and less nerve-twitchy than hers. “I’m filthy, I should warn you. But you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
She didn’t care if he’d rolled around in a mud puddle. Three days without touching him was officially too long.
You’re in such trouble, missy
. She knew it. The film would be done principal shooting in another five weeks. And Ryan was too fragile for a real relationship. She could practically see the timer on the end of their…whatever they were doing.
But knowing all of that didn’t make a lick of difference to her over-eager heart. She nibbled on her lower lip as she moved closer, taking in the streaks of dirt and remnants of green and black camo makeup on his face. “I kind of like this rugged warrior look.”
He held out his arms and she fell against his chest, squeezing tight as she moulded herself to his body. He smelled like hard work and metal, and if he didn’t have to get kids and probably sleep for a week, she’d offer to help him scrub every last bit of olive-green paint off his lightly tanned skin.
“You got some colour this weekend,” she murmured as she ran her fingers over his forehead and into his hair.
“Ever heard of a farmer’s tan? Army guys have it just as bad.” He grinned as he tugged down the collar of his green t-shirt, showing the paler skin she’d gotten fleetingly familiar with the week before. She pressed up onto her toes and kissed his collarbone where a light dusting of freckles blended the tan line into the soft curls of hair rising from the centre of his chest.
Rugged
. That was the only word for Ryan Howard. Big, rough, work-honed, and stronger than strong.
She’d never been more attracted to a man in her entire life.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice rough and catching on the last word.
She closed her eyes and snuggled her face into his chest. “Inappropriate thoughts.”
His hands had been resting on her hips, loosely possessive, but now he held her tighter, his hands splaying wide across her lower back, his fingertips branding the top of her ass. “Like what?”
That husky note in his voice did dangerous things between her legs. “Showering together.”
There were a lot of bulky things on his utility belt—a knife, some pouches—but there was no mistaking the heavy erection growing against her belly. “I’d like that.”
“I can tell,” she whispered, rubbing against him. With a groan, he lifted her up, cupping her bottom as he carried her into the house. Holly laughed as she held on tight, but the laughter died when he set her on his kitchen table and slid his hands into her hair, holding her in place so he could slant his face over hers and tease her lips open.
“One of these days, we’re going to have more than a few minutes together,” he growled before tasting her, the tip of his tongue sliding against the sensitive flesh inside her mouth. The very thought of what they could do with endless amounts of time made her nipples tighten, and without thinking, she grabbed his hand and slid it over her breast. She needed his palm there, his heavy touch rough against the sensitive nub.
He did her one better, cupping and squeezing her overheated flesh as he tugged their cores together.
Face flushed, heart pounding a mile a minute, Holly whimpered as Ryan started to rock against her, deepening his kiss at the same time. This wasn’t why she’d run over. But now that it was happening…
She gave herself over to the kiss and the caresses, the heat and the whispered words. Somehow she found the bottom of his shirt and tugged it out of his pants. The touch of his bare skin, hot and pebbled to the touch as her fingers raised goosebumps, was enough to melt her inside. Their connection astonished her—any love scene she’d ever acted out, any real kiss with previous men, they all paled against this desperate, honest grinding.
Ryan pulled back from her mouth, searching her face for something—permission?—as he rolled her nipple beneath his palm, then skated that hand down her shaking midsection to the button on her jeans. “Can I?”