“No going back now Marshall Webber, you are mine now.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
GRILL
Walking across the tarmac, I felt my phone vibrate in my shirt pocket. Shifting my duffle to my other shoulder, I kept walking as I pulled out my phone. The ride from Ballarat to Point Cook didn’t take more than an hour, we went straight into debriefing, received our orders and now we were hurrying to catch the Boeing C-17 that was taking us to Darwin. From there, we’d take a navy frigate to Port Moresby, a short thirty-four-hour sail away and join up with the SASR team already in the country.
Waking up my phone as I walked into the belly of the plane, I clicked on the messages and read the notification.
Sweet Cheeks sent a photo.
Opening it, I nearly stumbled over the grated floor. A photo of the big arse foil balloon I found online, the box next to the word YES had a big black tick inside of it.
A ding alerted me to another message, a new photo loaded right under the first.
Addy’s small elegant hand filled the small photo, the diamond engagement ring pride of place on her finger. Under the photo, a simple message from my fiancée.
It’s on my finger and it ain’t coming off.
“Fuck, yes!” I shouted, tossing off my duffle from my shoulder and fist bumping the air. The other soldiers on the plane looked at me like I was some kind of wanker, but six men were simply smiling. My teammates had been in on my plan, so they knew why I was shouting like a crazed lunatic.
“She said yes, I gather,” Rafe drawled with a smirk.
“Yes, she did! She said the ring is on her finger and it ain’t coming off,” I announced proudly, inside my heart was beating so hard it was a wonder the whole plane couldn’t hear it, even over the idling Boeing engines.
“Congrats, man, really happy for you,” Bastian congratulated me, slapping me hard on the back twice, “she is an awesome chick.”
A wide grin split my face. “Yeah, she is,” I agreed, “thank fucking Christ, she said yes.
“Was there doubt that she wouldn’t have?” Kodah asked me, stowing his duffle and mine under the cargo netting.
“A few weeks ago, yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t mind just living with her and being in a relationship for a while longer, if we weren’t expecting the baby. A kid deserves parents that are married.” Glancing at Bastian, I gave him a subtle nod. “No offence to you and Wren L.T.”
Bastian raised his hand in a salute. “None taken mate. Wren and I will get married soon enough, Dad’s important right now after his heart attack. Our kid isn’t due for another seventeen weeks, plenty enough time to sort something out,” he replied, in typical Bastian Johnston fashion. Nothing fazed him, not the enemy, not our superior officers, not an opponent in the ring. Well, except maybe his old man and certain countries covered in sand.
“Unless we get deployed close to D-day, then you are screwed, both of you,” Cole pipped up, adding his two cents, then sat down, pulled the peak of his hat lower and settled in for a sleep. Cole did that, didn’t matter if we were on a plane heading off to Darwin like now, or in a car heading back home after a deployment. The man slept every single time.
Shaking my head, the dread of what Cole said worried me some. Deployments were a part of my life, Addy knew it and I hoped could accept it. I had no plans to leave the army any time in the foreseeable future, I’d worked hard to get to where I was now, and I fucking enjoyed what I did and who I worked with too. My team consisted not only of my colleagues; they were my best mates, I couldn’t imagine my life without them. Addy was a different story, she climbed right into my heart and took up residence, her strength and determination to make her way in life, despite all the heartache she endured growing up made her the perfect woman for me.
Me going away meant I wouldn’t be worrying about her when my mind needed to be focused on my job, in saying that, it didn’t mean I didn’t care about her at home pregnant and working long hours because I really was, I just mean Addy could look after herself. She had smarts and liked her own company. Sitting at home, crying and waiting for me to get home wasn’t her style. Me worrying about missing my daughter’s birth, however, … thinking about Addy going through labour and delivery alone … nope, no way.
“Fuck me! Maybe I can put in for time off.”
“Sure, if she goes on time, which she probably won’t. First babies are notorious for going over-time,” Cole grumbled from his seat.
“What is she a basketball game? I thought you wanted to sleep, Ghost?” I accused my mate, giving him my deadliest glare, not that it did much good he wasn’t even looking at me.
“I can sleep and set you straight at the same time; just ask Bast.” We all burst out laughing, knowing Cole was talking about the plane incident where he punched Bastian out on the plane ride home when Bastian got called back after Deck had his heart attack. I may not have been there, but Cole and Gabe made sure we heard all about it in great detail.
“Fuck you, Ghost, that was a lucky punch,” Bastian grumbled, flipping him the bird.
“Wanna lose that finger LT? No? I didn’t think so.” Cole sank deeper into his seat, crossed his arms and effectively ending the stupid, senseless conversation.
“Never a dull moment with you blokes,” Kodah announced, shaking his head and laughing. “Gotta love being a Wounded Son.”
Fucking oath I did. I just had to make sure it didn’t mess with the birth of my daughter.
***
“Ahh, Sweet Cheeks? I don’t think crying that hard is good for you and the baby.” I tried to calm Addy down, but she just cried harder. Now, I was rethinking my surprise Skype call from the navy ship, for the last thirty minutes, Addy had progressed from happy weeping showing her hand with her ring on it, to an emotional blubbering mess. I was used to her crying, the pregnancy hormones had gotten steadily worse over the last month, but this was … a hysterical break-down of epic proportions.
Moving the mouse to the volume, I covertly dialled it down a few notches, not everyone in the mess needed to hear my fiancée sobbing that her red dress won’t zip up or that my pillow was losing my smell. They definitely didn’t need to know she couldn’t have an orgasm with her vibrator because her vagina refused to come with anything else other than my cock. I needed to know, but not the yanks sitting around me pretending like they weren’t listening.
“Marshall, are you listening?” Addy shouted, but with the volume turned down, I missed what she said. Scrolling the mouse, I increased the volume so I could hear what she was blubbering— ah, saying.
“Sorry, baby, what was that?”
Addy’s hazel eyes narrowed at me, the mascara that was now smudged around under her eyes, only looking worse.
“I asked if you could send me one of your shirts, Devon asked Gabe to and he agreed, but he surprised her by coming home early and gave it to her personally. Do you think you can hand deliver a shirt that smells like you too? Please?”
Laughter burst out from the table across from me, unlike the American’s my team had no problem eavesdropping nor did they feel the need to hide their interest in my call.
Holding out my hand, I gave them my middle finger, off-camera so Addy couldn’t see.
“Um, Sweet Cheeks, I am not sure if I can personally deliver it right now, at least not in time to stop your crying jag,” I drawled, carefully picking my words. I loved her, would fucking walk through fire for her, but a hormonal Addy was a minefield I had no business walking through.
“But I need your smell to sleeeeeep,” she wailed, a new flood of tears pouring down her cheeks.
Mission abort, mission abort! Her tears were breaking my heart, her reasons behind them bloody funny, but I had to do something to stop her before she made herself sick. Thinking how she could get my smell without me making a three-thousand-kilometre trip just to achieve it I thought of a solution.
“Sweet Cheeks, in my ute behind the passenger seat is a hoodie I wore when we went to the baby store. I
t should still have my— Addy? Addy?” I shouted to the screen where my girl should be looking at me, only she wasn’t. The sound of the back-screen door slamming shut came through the speaker.
“And she has gone to get it,” I muttered, dropping my chin to my chest, “Jesus, I don’t think I am going to survive this pregnancy and I haven’t seen most of it.”
“Grill, my man, that was fucking gold!” Kodah called out, between fits of laugher, laughing so hard I feared he might laugh up a lung.
“Laugh it up, wanker; just you wait until this happens to you.”
“What? Meet a girl, have a one-night stand, find out the rubber broke, then look for her for five months then discover she is carrying my baby? Then move myself into her house, buy new furniture because I can’t fit on any of hers? Is that what you want to happen to me?” Kodah asked deadpan, setting the guys off on another laughter session.
“Fucking A.”
This was going to be a long arse deployment.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ADELINE
“Oh, my god, that feels amazing! Who needs sex when you can get a foot rub?” I moaned out, rolling my head back on my shoulders, enjoying being pampered after a hard week at work. My weeks now only consisted of four days at the clinic, giving me Friday all day off. Which is why I was currently moaning in a comfortable armchair with one foot sitting in a warm bath of lavender-scented water and the other one being expertly rubbed by a very clever woman who was very good at her job.
“Me,” Devon answered beside me, her head in the same position as mine, at least it was the last time I looked at her. Moving to see was not possible right now.
“Gabe has been gone for seven weeks– seven! He refuses to undress for me on Skype, unlike Bastian who doesn’t care if his mates see him naked.”
“What can I say?” Wren began with a happy sigh. “My man has no shame when it comes to my needs.”
“I really would rather have Marshall than a foot rub, but carrying around a thirty-week gestation belly means my feet are sore. Agreed, Wren?”
“Sing it, sister, although, my belly looks like I am ninety-weeks not thirty. How the hell do you have such a petite bump and I have a Tonka truck parked inside me?” Wren complained, reaching over and poking me in the arm.
Wren and I were at the same stage, but looking at us, you wouldn’t know it. Where I was round in the belly and nowhere else, Wren was round and padded in other places. Her breasts were the most incredible part of her pregnancy body. They were truly spectacular, massive baby feeding pillows of perfection. Where mine were … still very inadequate in comparison.
“At least you have boobs capable of feeding a baby. Sproggo is going to need a map to find my nipples because my small sparrow-sized boobs won’t be giving her any clues where to find them,” I whined, looking down at my chest with a scowl. Didn’t pregnancy make boobs big? When exactly did they start to change? Surely, they should be much bigger by now. I got the sore feet, indigestion, nausea and even a bout of hemorrhoids I never want to repeat or speak of ever again. The big pillows were yet to happen.
“Your boobs aren’t that small, Addy, they look to be a decent handful,” Devon observed, leaning over to study my chest.
“You think so?”
“Oh, yeah, see they are round,” Devon assured me, her hand cupping one breast, “they have a good weight to them.”
“Let me see,” Wren demanded, doing the same as Devon with my other breast, her hand moving my breast up and down as if to determine the weight of it.
“Nothing wrong with those puppies, Addy.”
“Aww, really? You two are the best; you know that?” I blubbered, looking from Wren to Devon then down at their hands holding a breast each.
“I don’t know if I should be turned on right now, but fuck if this isn’t hot.” A deep timbre voice marvelled from the front of the beauty salon. A voice I dreamed about every night, a voice I love so much.
Whipping my head up, I gasped in surprise to see Marshall standing at the entrance, shoulder to shoulder with Gabe and Bastian. All three men wore startled expressions, as they stood there staring at my chest.
Huh? Looking down, it dawned on me that both of my breasts were covered by the hands of my friends.
“Ninja!”
“Bast!”
Both girls cried out excitedly. Devon jumped from the pedicure chair, startling the poor woman who was in the middle of giving her a foot massage.
I heard Gabe groan in delight, and I even heard Bastian call out to his Bombshell to stay in the chair, that he will go to her. I heard but didn’t see because my eyes were trained on Marshall.
“Hey,” I greeted him softly, drinking in the sight of him. After seven weeks of only scattered Skype calls, emails and the occasional voice call, seeing him in the flesh was more than I could suddenly take. Tears welled in my eyes, and my feet were still in the water, so all I could do was smile and cry.
“Hey, Sweet Cheeks, miss me?” he asked, walking past our loved-up friends, over the woman on the floor, cleaning up the mess of water Devon caused, and straight up to me. Wrapping a hand around my neck, Marshall kneeled down beside me; his height meant his face was level with mine.
“Say it again,” he demanded, pulling my face closer to his, wiping the tears from my cheeks with his thumb.
“Hi?”
“Hi baby, but no, that isn’t it. Try again,” he growled, his mouth centimetres from mine. My god, he looked amazing, and he was here!
Biting the inside of my cheek to stop the sassy grin begging to appear.
“I love you and missed you so much, Marshall.” Instead of continuing the joking, I went with the truth.
Marshall pressed his lips softly to mine. “I love you, baby, I missed you every fucking day you weren’t with me. I missed hearing your voice, your laugh, your touch. I missed us, Sweet Cheeks, but that isn’t it so one more try,” he once again demanded, taking his lips away, so far I couldn’t reach them with his hold on my neck.
“Kiss me again and I will give you what you want,” I bargained, swiping my tongue across my bottom lip, enticing a deep groan from my man, and then finally, he was kissing me again. Not some slow, gentle hello kiss like the first one, nope, this was urgent, demanding and oh, so hot. His tongue filled my mouth, sucking and licking the inside of my mouth, his mouth devouring me. Before I was ready for our connection to end, Marshall ripped his mouth away, then took my left hand and held my ring finger up to his mouth, where he pressed a kiss to my precious engagement ring.
“Say it!”
“Yes. Marshall, I will marry you and spend the rest of our lives making babies, making a family and making love,” I told him, giving him the answer, he refused to let me give him on any of our calls. Every time I tried to bring up the subject, he shut me down, insisting he wanted to hear me say it in person.
My big, bad sniper was a romantic at heart.
“I know you will,” he replied, smiling cockily at me, “let’s get your foot rub finished, then go home. That little scene I walked in on had an effect on my cock, though I am sure my thoughts on the matter are very inappropriate. And I am guessing out of the question?” he asked, wriggling his brows at me.
Scoffing at him, I rolled my eyes then waved at the lady to keep going.
“Dream on Marshall, and I mean that dream because that will never —”
Crushing his lips down, Marshall kissed me hard and fast before pulling back, his hands in their favourite place, on my cheeks.
“I was only joking baby, and I don’t dream about any other pussy except yours.”
Rubbing my nose down his, I smiled at him.
“I know.”
And I did.
I survived my first deployment, and Marshall came home like he promised.
Life was good.
***
“Are you sure you don’t mind going out? We can stay in like I planned, cuddle on the couch watching a movie, then go to bed and make lov
e all night until you are boneless?”
I laughed at Marshall’s third attempt to get out of going to the Wounded Souls’ compound for a welcome home gathering for Marshall and his team.
Earlier, Wren informed me it was a tradition to get together with the family and celebrate their safe return. In the past seven weeks, my time spent at the compound increased by the day. After work, I would meet Wren and Devon there, have dinner, and chill out with the ladies of the Flock. And every night when driving home, behind me would be a Harley riding escort.
Family, and I was one of them now.
“Good try babe, we can relax there then come home and make love,” I called out, mumbling the make love part– nervousness set in thinking about being naked in front of Marshall. When we got home from the salon appointment, I had only assumed Marshall would rip my clothes off and have his wicked way with me. Only— he didn’t.
Instead, we sat on the couch, me on his lap and talked about what I had been doing while he was away. And I do mean everything; he wanted to know the ins and outs of every second of every day. It took me a good two hours to tell him and answer his constant questions. I couldn’t help get the impression he was prolonging intimacy because of my weight? Did he find my pregnant body unattractive? Obviously, I was going to need to be on top of him while we loved, were my breasts gross? Wren and Devon seemed to like them, but they were women, so what would they really know?
Standing under the spray of the hot water, I looked down at my chest. They weren’t as big as Wren’s, unfortunately, but they still looked a little bigger now, my nipples slightly darker and more pronounced. Maybe that was it; maybe Marshall didn’t find distended nipples a turn on. Or perhaps it was the ugly red marks on my hips?
Without warning, the shower curtain pulled back startling me, and Marshall stood there dressed only in jeans, shirtless, bare feet and hot as hell. When his eyes travelled down my body, my unease with my body images hit me, making me cover my breasts with one arm and my hips with the other.
Grill (The Wounded Sons Book 3) Page 16
