My Kind of Love: a Military Romance (Finding Love Book 1)

by Nikki Ash

  “He’s not going to know who I am.”

  “Of course he will. We can video you talking to him and I’ll play it for him, and we can video chat, so you can see him.”

  “You’d do that?” he asks.

  “Of course.” I link our fingers together. “I know I was scared. I still am. But I was wrong. I promise, Ry, I’ll make sure RJ knows who his daddy is, and once you come home, you can pick up where I left off.”

  “And what about us? Will we pick up where we left off?”

  My thoughts go to our time at the beach house. The hugging and kissing and making love. The laughing and talking and connecting. I want that so much, but…

  “I can’t,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” I drop my eyes in shame. “My heart just couldn’t take it if something happened to you. I’m sorry.”

  Ryan unlinks our hands and lifts my chin so I’m looking at him. “I’m going to let you have your way for now because I get it. What happened with your husband… But when I come home…”

  I open my mouth to argue, but he shakes his head. “Uh-uh. I will come home. And when I do, we’re going to discuss you becoming mine.”

  I try to interrupt again, but he places two fingers to my lips. “The thing is, Micaela, I know what it feels like to be with you, to be in you. To be calmed by you. And I’m not going to stop until I can have you again, this time for good.”

  The next few days pass in a blur. Because RJ was admitted to the NICU, he has to stay there. After the first night, I no longer need a wheelchair, and every two hours Ryan and I walk from my room to see our son. Our parents visit, going back and forth between seeing RJ and us. They bring Ryan food, while I’m stuck eating the hospital crap. Ryan never leaves my side, except to take a shower in my room. On discharge day, my parents show up with RJ’s car seat, and after filling out the necessary paperwork and showing the nurse the car seat is installed properly in Ryan’s truck, we take our son home—well, to my parents’ house, which is also my house, since I live with them, and Ryan doesn’t have his own place. Because he’s never home, he hasn’t bothered to buy a home, instead staying in the guesthouse at his parents’ place when he’s in town.

  Not wanting to miss a moment with his son before he has to leave, he asks my parents if it’s okay to stay with me. Since RJ is little, he’s sleeping in my room with me. I have a crib, bassinet, and changing table set up for him. My parents offered to turn a guest room into a nursery for him, but I’m not planning on staying here that long. I still have my dreams and goals I want to achieve, even if I’ve had to take a slight detour.

  “You graduated,” Ryan says, looking at the diploma, as I step out of my en-suite bathroom. The moment we got home, my family attacked RJ. My siblings argued over who would get to hold him, and I used that time to jump in the shower. There’s nothing like showering in your own house, in your own shower. I glance over and see RJ is sleeping soundly in his bassinet, swaddled like the most adorable little burrito.

  “Just my AS. I still have two years left. Finding out I was pregnant had me altering my plans, again. But I made sure to get my AS before he was born, and I’m still planning to finish what I started.”

  Ryan glances over at me, raking his eyes down my pajama-clad body. I’m wearing comfy leggings that are easy on my incision and a loose nursing top my mom bought me. The front crisscrosses, tying at the side, which makes it easy to pull it to the side when I need to feed RJ. I cringe at what Ryan must see. I’ve put on a good thirty pounds from the pregnancy that my mom warned me weren’t all baby. As soon as the doctor gives me the go-ahead I’ll be at the gym with my mom working to get the weight off. But for now… well, this is me, and it’s a far cry from the woman he spent time with at the beach.

  “What?” I ask self-consciously after several long moments, when he doesn’t look away.

  “Being a mom suits you. You look beautiful.”

  “Oh yeah.” I roll my eyes, climbing onto my bed to rest while RJ does. “Nothing is sexier than a woman in her breastfeeding pajamas.”

  “Damn right,” Ryan growls, joining me on the bed. “But not just any woman. You. Nothing is fucking sexier than knowing under this top are your perfect breasts that not only supplied me with pleasure…” He winks, and I groan. He’s such a damn perv. “But also supply our son with the nutrients he needs,” he finishes, his face going from flirty to serious. At his words, my heart swoons, my cheeks heating up.

  “I could watch you with RJ all day.” His lips curl into a sad smile. “I only have nine days left. Can we just stay in here, the three of us, so I can soak up every second possible with you both?” I know he’s joking, but the way his eyes bore into mine, I think there’s a part of him that would be okay with just doing that.

  Ryan scoots down and wraps me in his arms, and I lower my head onto his chest. We haven’t discussed any more about his proposal, or what our future holds, and for that I’m thankful. Right now the only thing I can focus on is being a mom. He doesn’t say a word as he threads his fingers through my hair. And suddenly all the excitement from the last few days catches up to me, exhaustion hitting me hard, and with the sound of Ryan’s heartbeat calming me, I close my eyes and let sleep overtake me.

  “Micaela,” a melodic yet gruff voice says. “Micaela, you have to wake up, baby.”

  Baby? Why is someone calling me baby? And why are they trying to wake me up?

  “C’mon, baby, you just have to wake up long enough to feed RJ and then you can go back to sleep.” Those words have me bolting up in my spot. I’m a mom, and I have to feed my baby.

  “There she is,” Ryan says, smiling softly. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of black basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt that reads ARMY across the front, his muscular biceps and forearms on display as he holds our son in his arms, like he’s the most precious treasure that needs to be handled with the utmost care. RJ is staring up at his daddy, sucking on his pacifier, hard, like he’s hoping if he sucks hard enough, milk will magically appear. Even though it’s obvious he’s hungry, he still looks content, and I don’t blame him. Ryan has a way of making you feel protected and cherished without even trying.

  Before I take RJ from him, I reach over and grab my phone, taking a picture of the two of them. Ryan is glancing down at RJ, love swimming in his gorgeous blue eyes. My heart swells at the sight, but quickly bursts when I remember he’s going to be leaving soon, going back to Afghanistan and risking his life. There’s a chance he won’t return—or if he does, it could be in a body bag.

  Just like Ian did…

  My thoughts go to the last time I saw him, lying cold and lifeless in the coffin. He wasn’t even in another country risking his life. He was merely training, a routine skydiving session gone wrong—way wrong.

  “Unfortunately it happens,” they said, as if they were informing me about the weather instead of telling me my husband was dead.

  “Micaela,” Ryan says, snapping me from my thoughts. “Baby, you’re crying.” He reaches over and wipes a tear I didn’t realize was falling.

  I look at him and all I can see is Ian postmortem. Ryan might be alive right now, but the chances of him remaining that way are slim, and I have to protect myself, so when he does die, I can be strong for our son. It’s no longer just my heart that’s at risk, but RJ’s as well.

  “You okay?” Ryan asks.

  “No,” I choke out, taking RJ from him and cradling him to my chest. “I think it’s best if you go home.”

  Ryan

  It happened so fast. Like, with the quickness of one flicking a switch, she was transported from Vegas to Alaska. She went from warm and vibrant to ice-cold and hard. For a second, I was stunned by her words, confused as fuck. Everything had been going good. We were getting along great—more than great. We were taking care of RJ together. She was even cuddling in bed with me. And then *flick* her entire demeanor changed.

  “There’s no reason for you to sleep here. We’re not together and I need
my space. You can come and visit,” she says, and it hits me—she’s freaking out. I knew this was coming. Been waiting for it, actually. I spent almost two weeks with Micaela, watched her fight to take a simple step forward. I’ve seen her broken and lost, and I got to watch as she dragged herself step by step until she could walk again. To assume she’s going to be perfect would be ludicrous. She had plans that didn’t include me. It was why I walked away that day. Sure, I called and asked her to join me in Texas a couple months later. That was me being selfish. I missed her like crazy, missed the way I felt around her. But when she said no, I didn’t push because I knew it wasn’t personal. She was protecting her heart.

  Which is exactly what she’s doing right now. I don’t know what went through her head just now, but if I had to guess from the tears in her eyes, it was either thoughts of Ian, or of me leaving soon. Whatever it was, it was scary enough to erect that wall she’s built to protect herself.

  I should be angry that she’s pushing me away, but the fact that she didn’t include our son has my heart inflating. She’s accepted I’m his dad and not going anywhere, and she isn’t trying to keep me from him—only from her, because even though she can’t protect RJ from getting hurt, she can still protect herself.

  I lean over and give RJ a kiss on his forehead. I don’t want to leave, but I’m not about to argue with Micaela. She’s only given birth a few days ago. Her emotions are all over the place, and she’s exhausted. “I love you, little guy,” I whisper to my son before planting a kiss to Micaela’s temple. “If you need anything, I’m only a phone call away. Text me later and let me know when I can spend time with RJ.”

  She swallows thickly and nods, refusing to look at me. I take one last look at her and RJ, then reluctantly leave. When I get downstairs, Bella is in the kitchen making herself a protein shake. She doesn’t fight anymore, but she works out and trains other fighters.

  “How’s our girl doing?” she asks, taking a sip of her drink.

  “She’s having a moment,” I tell her honestly. “She asked me to give her space.”

  Bella frowns. “You’re not going to really do that, are you?” When I chuckle, she adds, “You’re good for her. When she returned home, she was almost back to the old Micaela. She had a new plan and was a woman on a mission.”

  “She’s stronger than she realizes.”

  “She is.” She takes another sip of her drink. “She never mentioned your time together, but I could tell something was different. It was like she wasn’t just healed but changed. Whatever happened between you two stayed with her when she returned.”

  I cough into my fist at her words, and her eyes widen, realizing what she just implied. “Not like that!” She laughs. “Well, actually…” She shrugs. “She did come home with a baby in tow.” She mock glares, and I laugh.

  “I’d like to say I’m sorry, but have you seen that baby upstairs?” I nod toward the staircase. “There’s not a damn thing I regret about our time together, especially since it gave us him.”

  Bella laughs. “I get it. You going home?”

  “I think I’m going to head to the Fight Club to get a workout in. Give her some time to get through whatever’s going on in that beautiful head of hers. Can you keep an eye on her? She’s still sore and exhausted.”

  She nods. “I can do that.”

  “Thanks.”

  After going home to see my mom and changing into my workout clothes, I head to the gym. Marco is standing at the front desk when I walk in. We haven’t had a chance to really talk about me and Micaela since I returned. Between everyone arguing and then Micaela going into labor, we’ve been a little preoccupied.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks when I scan my card. I was expecting him to have words, but I didn’t think I would be unwelcome here.

  “The last time I checked I’m still a member. If that’s changed just let me know.”

  “Whoa.” His hands go up in mock surrender. “That’s not what I meant. Just wondering why you’re here instead of with Micaela and your son.”

  “She kicked me out,” I grunt. “Said she needed some space.”

  Marco nods. “I was pissed when I found out it was you who got my little girl pregnant.” I have nothing to say, so I wait for him to continue. “Then I blamed myself when I found out where you knocked her up.” He eyes me for a second. “And then I learned you were the reason she was finally living again.”

  He walks around the desk and steps in front of me. “I’m hoping one day you’ll make an honest woman out of her, but I know firsthand how stubborn the Cooper women can be.”

  “Cooper?”

  “Fuck yeah, Bella and Micaela might have my last name, but their attitude is all fucking Cooper.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I laugh. “And none of that attitude is from you.” I pat his shoulder. “Micaela can be stubborn all she wants, but one day I will marry that woman, and it’s good to know you’ll be supportive.” I look him in the eye. “I’m not proud of how it happened, but like I told Bella, I could never regret it. Micaela is the one for me. I can feel it deep in my marrow. Now, I just have to convince her I’m the one for her.”

  Marco nods. “She’ll come around. And just for the record, I wanted to tell you about RJ. I would never keep something like that from another man. I know how that feels. I was just trying to give her time to handle it her way.”

  “I know. I get it. I was pissed, but it’s hard to stay that way when I know why Micaela did what she did.”

  “She’s scared as hell.”

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “Any idea what you’re going to do about that?”

  “I have a couple ideas.” I’ve actually been thinking a lot about our situations and how my life and hers can somehow come together. “I need to get through the next four months and once I get back, I’m going to figure shit out.”

  “Well, regardless of what happens with you two, as RJ’s dad, you’ll always be family.” Marco pulls me into a hug and clasps me on the back, and I sigh in relief, knowing the man I’ve looked up to most of my life has my back.

  After a good workout and a shower, I head over to my sisters’ boutique downtown to spend some time with them. They insist on taking me to lunch, where they gush over all the pictures of RJ. Since I haven’t spent much time with my nieces and nephews, I agree to have dinner with them. Mom and Dad join us, and we make it a family affair. It’s nice to have all of us together. Unfortunately, with me gone a lot, it doesn’t happen often enough.

  While we’re hanging out, I check my phone a million times, but Micaela never once texts. Eventually we say good night and I head back to my parents’ place, to the guesthouse. I end up falling asleep on the couch while watching crap television and wishing I were with Micaela and my son.

  I wake up in the morning and get ready to go to the gym, but before I leave, my phone goes off with a text from Micaela: I’m taking RJ for a walk, if you want to join.

  I respond with: Would love to. Can be there in ten minutes.

  She doesn’t respond, instead giving the message a thumbs-up. I laugh, knowing this is her way of letting me in while keeping me at arm’s length.

  I arrive at her house and find her standing outside with RJ bundled up in a large red badass-looking stroller that makes him look even tinier. It has three fat wheels with a handlebar that runs across the back. It’s in the high sixties today, so Micaela is wearing a Fight Club hoodie, a pair of leggings that show off all her curves, and a pair of fluffy boots all women wear. She waves to me as I park and jump out of my truck.

  “Nice stroller. You planning to go off roading with this thing?”

  She laughs, the sound carefree, reminding me of our time in Venice once she let me in. “It’s a jogging stroller. My parents bought it for me since I love going for runs outside.” She pulls the canopy down, revealing a mesh cover. “This will protect him from the wind.”

  Before she closes it, I lean over and give RJ a kiss on hi
s forehead, inhaling his fresh baby smell. It’s something I hope he still has when I return in a few months.

  We start our walk down the driveway and then make a left once we hit the road. At first, Micaela is quiet, looking everywhere but at me, and I don’t say a word, not wanting to push her even farther away.

  Then, after about a half a mile, she points to a house that’s for sale. “This used to be my friend Jenny’s house. She moved her senior year. I’m surprised the house is still for sale. It has the most beautiful floor-to-ceiling fireplace.”

  “The market is at a standstill. It was booming for a while and everyone was buying properties, but then people got greedy and started raising the prices. Now there are too many overpriced homes for sale and not enough buyers.”

  “Makes sense,” she says. “Is that why you haven’t bought anything?”

  “Yeah,” I say, leaving it at that. I’m not about to mention I’m rarely ever home, so it would be a waste of a house. Once I get back from this deployment, things are going to change. For years, I was restless, volunteering for deployments to try to find something to make me feel whole, connected, centered. But I never found it—not until Micaela, and now RJ.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “I’m okay. Still sore. The pain meds help. The doctor said it’s good to walk. I’m just not supposed to lift anything heavy, so I had my mom carry the stroller out for me.”

  “For six weeks, right?” I ask, mentally calculating how long that is. I’ll be gone soon and she’ll still have four more weeks of needing help. Help I won’t be here to give her. It’s a good thing she’s living with her parents. Between them, her grandparents, her siblings, and my family, someone will always be around to help her.

  “Yeah,” she says.