by Sable Hunter
With one big hand, he cupped her chin, holding her face immobile. “Give me a chance, that’s all I ask.”
There are times in one’s life when a moment crystallizes and you realize that someday you’ll look back and know that this was it – your one big chance. There were no guarantees . . . . God, she was such a coward. “I would love to be your friend.” She watched his face fall. Did she have power over this magnificent man?
“I’m not giving up, Savannah.”
She had to ask. “Patrick, I’ve got to know, because I just don’t understand. How can you be interested in me? We’ve just met, and you’re so handsome and . . . . I’m so ordinary.”
“Ordinary?” Patrick leaned over and put his face against hers, foreheads touching and he nuzzled his mouth against hers, stealing a small kiss. This time, he didn’t really give a damn who was watching. “You’re far from ordinary, Savannah. In the little time we’ve had together, you’ve touched my heart like no one else ever has. We’re connected. Don’t you feel it? If you can say ‘no’, I’ll let you off the hook. We’ll go back to the Memorial and call it a day. You’ll never hear from me again.”
“No!” a look of panic crossed her face. “I do feel it, but I don’t understand it. How can that be?”
Patrick kissed the end of her nose. “Well, it’s sort of a secret. But I’ll make a deal with you. When you tell me your secret, the one that’s stopping you from taking a chance with me – I’ll tell you mine.”
“Oh, ratz.”
He chuckled, “Oh, ratz! I could just eat you up, did you know that?”
She grabbed her lemonade, ’s hot as the dickens in here.” He leaned back to let her have some air.
“I’ve got you all hot and bothered, don’t I?”
“Yea, a little bit,” she admitted. Clearing her throat, she sat up straight and tried to regain control of the conversation. “Tell me what you can about your job in Special Ops,” she urged him. He wasn’t the only one who wanted information.
“I’m on a sniper team.”
“No, please no,” she whispered under her breath. Savannah knew what that was and the reality of the danger he put himself through sent cold chills up and down her spine. “I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but that makes my heart hurt.”
“It’s not all covert missions. We do a lot of training of foreign troops and nation building, but sometimes we are called to do hard things,” he didn’t elaborate and Savannah knew better than to ask. “It’s not all war. Funny thing is, after we occupy a territory and the fighting tears it up, we spend twice as long putting it back together.” They both had stopped sipping their lemonade. Instead they just sat close and enjoyed their last few minutes together. “The hardest reality of my job is that my future is uncertain. And knowing I have no family except Grandad, it just makes me realize that if I died, it would be like I never existed. I have buddies in the unit, but they have their own lives and their own families. I have no one.” Repeating what his grandfather had said, he told Savannah his greatest fear. “I think the worst thing that can happen to someone is to be forgotten.”
“I know you now, Patrick. I wouldn’t ever forget you.” Her simple words hit him like a freight train. And when she leaned down and kissed his hand, he almost came in his shorts.
“When I get to Afghanistan, I’ll contact you as soon as I can. And you’ll respond – right?”
This big gorgeous man seemed to need reassurance that only she could give. Savannah wasn’t going to argue with him anymore. She wanted whatever of Patrick O’Rourke she could get. “It would be a pleasure to keep in touch with you. I can update you on my progress and just entertain you a bit. I’m a really great story-teller. Have you ever heard of Scheherazade? She told the King a different story every night to keep from getting her head chopped off.”
Watching her mouth form words, his imagination took over and he thought of how it would feel when those pink lips were stretched over his cock. Lord, he couldn’t wait to make love with her - feel her little body give in to the strength of his demands. All in good time, he placated himself. The anticipation would make his homecoming even sweeter. “I’m familiar with the story of the 1001 Arabian Nights. The King ended up falling in love with the little tale-weaver, didn’t he?” What he said caused her to blush; a beautiful pink hue washed up her shoulders, swept her neck and painted roses on her cheeks.
“Yes, he did. But, I’m also quite sure she had qualities that attracted him other than an entertaining bedside manner.”
“Do you have an entertaining beside manner, Savannah?” Patrick didn’t know why he was picking at her, other than it was damn fun and she was as cute as a button.
“I hope so, but I couldn’t swear to it.” Surely he realized by now that he was experienced and she was - - not. As much as she hated to remind him, it was getting late. “What time do you have to report to the base?”
“Damn, you’re right. I gotta go.” He helped her from the booth and out to the car. This time, she let him open her door and he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of her long, shapely legs as she settled behind the wheel. “Pull your dress in. I don’t want to shut the door on the material.” When she did, he rewarded her – “That’s my girl.”
“That’s my girl,’ God, what she wouldn’t give for that to be true. As they drove back to the memorial, Savannah had a serious talk with herself. Patrick was leaving; she couldn’t be sure she’d ever see him again. Yet her heart was beating harder than she had ever felt. Her nipples had peaked, her clit was doing a happy dance, and all she could think was that this man had walked into her life for a reason. It probably wasn’t the reason her body hungered for, but her soul was strongly announcing that destiny had come calling. “I’ve enjoyed our time together very much. Can I send you care packages? I owe you cookies.” Already she was thinking of other items she could send to brighten his days.
“I’ll be back, Savannah.” he promised. “And yes, I’d love anything you could send me. I’ll email you the address. And don’t forget – this isn’t over. While I’m gone, we’ll date online. Okay?”
“Okay, okay,” she gave in with a laugh. “You call it dating and I’ll call it visiting. Either way, I’ll look forward to it.” She parked near the memorial and was relieved to see that Tammany’s car was nowhere in sight. She wasn’t ready to share her tender feelings with anyone.
Patrick came around and helped her out. “Come walk with me under the oak for just a moment, I’m not ready to say goodbye.” He ran a finger down her cheek – something he wanted to do over and over again. “Can I hold your hand some more?”
“Please.” They clasped hands and her heart skipped a beat.
“What kind of flowers are those?” Two beds full of small, unassuming blue flowers bedecked both sides of the gazebo.
“Those are forget-me-nots,” Savannah answered. “I think they are fitting.nbsp; We should never forget what happened to these people.”
Patrick bent over and picked a small spray and handed them to her. “Please don’t forget me, Savannah. Promise?”
With trembling hand she took his offering. “I won’t forget you, Patrick.”
Stepping near, he bent close. “Kiss me, Baby.”
In answer, Savannah rose on tiptoe and kissed him. Chastely. Sweetly. He rubbed his mouth across hers. And when he did, she whimpered a little sigh and opened her mouth to allow him inside. With a growl he hauled her close enough that they could feel one another’s heart beating. Her hands slipped around his waist and she nestled against him. A titter of laughter from passing children broke the spell and Patrick rubbed his hands down her arms and dusted a few more kisses on her face. “Damn, Baby. That’s something I’m not going to be able to forget while I’m gone.”
“Neither will I, Patrick.” Savannah felt drugged from his passion. She looked into his eyes, as if trying to read what the future might hold. When he stole one more hard kiss, she shuddered in absolute delight.
&n
bsp; “I’ve got to go. I’ll get in touch with you the first chance I get.”
He pulled away and she had never wanted to run after anyone more than at that very moment. But she couldn’t follow the path he was destined to walk. All she could do was wait for him to come home. “I’ll check my mail everyday.”
“Forget me never, Savannah,” he called out to her as he walked away. And she didn’t. Not then, and not ever.
Chapter Three
A week later
Afghanistan might get cold at night this time of year, but during the day it was damn hot. The temperature gauge might only show in the eighties, but the dry winds that kept the sand stirred up forced them to wear long sleeve shirts and keep the windows rolled up. And their damn air-conditioner was broke. “Jayco, you’re just like a bull moose. How did you break the window control?” Patrick wiped the sweat from his brow. Now they couldn’t let the window down even if the devil winds stopped whipping around.
“I don’t know, O’Rourke.” Jayco’s grin was as wide as his shoulders. It took a lot of crap before he got mad. Even tempers were a good thing since they were all Type-A personalities.
“Look, this isn’t gonna be a bad set-up. We’re here as force-multipliers. Every guy is expected to lead one company-size group, up to 100 guys each. It’s our job to teach them how to defend their own country.” Hawke sat in the back with his feet propped up on the seat between Patrick and Jayco.
“Morale is important. We have to build confidence in these men and at the same time establish our leadership role. We always want to give off an aura like we’re the masters of chaos and jacks of all trades. They expect a lot out of us and we have to give them what they expect.” Patrick had been through this before. It could be worse. They could have been sent on a raid of some kind or be asked to locate and disarm IED’s. All he wanted to do was get back to camp and contact Savannah. It had been a week since he got here and they hadn’t had internet service until today. She probably thought he had changed his mind about corresponding with her and that worried the mess out of him.
“Is Lucas on to you? Does he suspect that you’re checking him out?” Hawke was the worrier in the group.
“I don’t know,” Patrick admitted. “Several of the other units are going deep into Taliban territory. I’ve asked Rasib to be my eyes and ears. If their locations get leaked to the enemy, Rasib will let me know.”
“He risks a lot to help us, doesn’t he?” Jayco slapped his cap on his leg chasing away one of the ever present biting flies.
“That he does,” Patrick sighed. “Too much. Just last week two men had their throats slashed and their heads cut off in the village square in Mirianshah for the very same thing that Rasib does for us.” All of the men were quiet for a few minutes; the cruelty of conflict was never far away from them.
“What are we gonna do tomorrow? How about a trip into Kabul?” Jayco tried to lighten the mood. He always had women on his mind.
“You’d better be careful. Messing with the local women is going to get you killed, Boy.” Hawke had seen it happen. “If you get hard up, there are some Russian women you can hire to do your – uh – laundry.”
“My advice is to make friends with your right hand, Buddy.” Patrick had no intention of seeking out trouble. He’d rather fantasize about Savannah. Pulling into camp, he helped the guys unload the gear. “I’ll see you idiots in the morning. I’ve got some correspondence to take care of.”
They didn’t argue with him, each man had his own dreams to keep him company. The mud-wall compound wasn’t a palace, but at least it was shelter. Taking out his lap-top, he settled down to spend a little time with Savannah.
*****
It had been a week since she watched Patrick drive away from the Acadian Memorial, and Savannah was still in a daze. She had gone about her daily work as if on auto-pilot. Committee meetings and fund raisers were second nature to her, but she had to force herself to stay focused. All she really wanted to do was stay at the laptop on the off chance he might try to contact her. At least while she was on the computer she could research the LaVerdure name. If he did email her, she wanted to have something concrete to offer him.
It was funny, really. She was skipping around the house like a schoolgirl. Her little cottage was a joy to her. It was a modern version of the Louisiana swamp house. There was a dogtrot down the center which meant that the front door and the back door were lined up and could be opened to let the breeze blow from north to south or vice versa. In olden days, a dog trot house meant that the dogs could trot from one end to the other. The colors in her house were cool blues and white with Audubon prints and comfortable overstuffed furniture. Savannah loved to pad around barefoot in cool cotton clothes. And she let the TV play on the cooking or garden channel just for noise.
Television or music was okay, but her first love was reading and research. So now, here she sat, plopped down on the couch with her legs tucked up underneath her, surrounded by her laptop, volumes of records, diaries and research directories, combing through them as if seeking for buried treasure. If there was anything to be found of Patrick’s family, the LaVerdures, she would find it.
Oh, she tried to concentrate – but it was hard. Savannah couldn’t help but think about Patrick O’Rourke. Her lips tingled with the memory of the kiss they had shared. “God, the man could kiss,” she whispered to herself. Unable to help herself, she licked her lips, recalling how good he had tasted and the hunger he had awakened in her body. With a shiver, she bent over and pulled a pillow tightly to her face and let out a squeal of absolute delight. Would he contact her again? He said he would. Savannah had checked her email several times already today, but she realized he had been traveling. It was a long way to Afghanistan and he might not have access to a computer right away. Did he have a phone so he could text or access the internet? God, she was just driving herself crazy wondering if and when she would hear from him.
Ding! Out of the blue, her computer announced she had mail and Savannah’s heart stopped beating. Reaching for her laptop, she opened her email and when she saw Patrick O’Rourke on the message list, she couldn’t have kept quiet to save her life. “Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
With trembling fingers, she clicked on the message.
Savannah. Did I tell you I love your name? I do. I have to confess that you are all I can think about. Does that scare you? I hope not. I won’t ask you if you found out anything on the LaVerdures. I know you haven’t had time, and besides, that’s not what I’m really interested in. If you find something, that’s great. And if you don’t, that’s okay too. It’s you I care about. I can’t get those kisses we shared out of my mind. Your lips were so soft and sweet. I can’t wait to get back home, see you again and kiss you some more. Yeah – that’s right and you had better get used to the idea. You do want to see me, don’t you? That will be awhile, I’m afraid. We laid over in Germany for two days. It was snowing on the mountaintop. I’ve attached a photo for you to see. I was thinking about you when they took the picture. Can you tell? Let me hear from you, please. I’ll be waiting. And hoping. Take care of yourself.
Patrick.
Opening the attachment, she gazed at his picture. God, he was so good looking. Smack! She couldn’t help it, she kissed his likeness, leaving an imprint of her lips right in the middle of her computer screen. Bouncing up, she let herself celebrate. “He likes me! He really likes me!” She ran to her phone, wanting to call someone and share, but Tammany was still at work, so she texted her instead - only two words. HE EMAILED! She would understand. Tammany had taken great pride in the fact that Savannah had gone on a ‘near date’. Besides, it didn’t matter if she had anyone to celebrate with or not, she was still over the moon! Setting the phone back down, she ran and made a cup of coffee to calm her nerves and settled down to answer his email.
Patrick. I like your name, too. It’s strong . . . and sexy. Like you. No, the idea that you are thinking about me isn’t scary �
� but the fact that I can’t get you off my mind is quite terrifying. I have relived every moment of the time we spent together – over and over.
No, I haven’t found anything yet on the name you gave me. But I’m about to start looking again as soon as I finish this email to you.
And yes, I want to see you again. I’d love to see you again. It might not be the wisest thing for either of us, but I can’t deny that it is what I want. I know it’s a long time off, but if you’ll call me when you arrive, I’ll prepare a meal for you. Does that sound ok?
I have to admit that I want more of your kisses. Since we’re talking in emails, I find that I’m more inclined to share the whole truth with you. Okay? Here it goes; I kissed the photograph you sent me. You are an exceptionally good-looking man and very sweet and kind. Thank you for sending it to me. I’ll cherish it. Would you like me to send a photograph of myself? If you want one, I’ll send it. And I can’t wait to hear from you again. I’ll try to have information to share with you the next time we talk. Please take care of yourself. I’ll be praying for your safety.
