by Hope Ford
Her Christmas Soldier
Hope Ford
Contents
1. Cassie
2. Cassie
3. Cassie
4. Cassie
5. Cassie
6. Cassie
7. Gavin
8. Gavin
9. Gavin
10. Gavin
Epilogue
Mistletoe Montana Series
Free Books
JOIN ME!
About the Author
Her Christmas Soldier © 2020 by Hope Ford
Editor: Kasi Alexander
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
Cassie
“How did I let you talk me into this?” I say into the car. I have my phone on Bluetooth, talking to my sister, Alison.
“Uh, because I wasn’t going to let you sit around here and mope, that’s why.” She snorts.
“I wasn’t moping,” I lie to her. Obviously I was moping. Actually I was downright about to go out of my mind.
“Cass, you know that you couldn’t have set here in our Christmassy filled house, opening Christmas gifts and making cookies knowing that Gavin was at his house alone. Let’s be honest. It didn’t take much pushing to get you to go there.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. I would have gone crazy knowing that Gavin Dawson was alone for Christmas. I pull to the side of the road when I get to his street. “I’m on his street,” I tell her, almost holding my breath.
She gasps, and I hear her clapping her hands together excitedly. “Oh, Cassie, this is so exciting!”
I just shake my head and roll my eyes. “Ya know, you are probably supposed to be talking me out of this, right? I’m going to a man’s house, one that I’ve never met and offering to stay a few days with him to bring him Christmas cheer. Like, any other sister would be dead set against this.”
“Cassie, we’ve been over this. You’ve been talking to him for over a year now. He’s a decorated soldier that is coming home for Christmas. I’ve read all your emails, well most of them anyway, and he seems harmless–“
“Harmless! Ha! He’s a trained to kill soldier. You don’t know he’s harmless,” I huff at her.
“Fine, come on home then. If you truly think you should be scared of him, then turn the car around and come home.”
I hold my hands over my face. I know he’s not harmless. But he’s a good man. A year of emailing back and forth would have indicated if he was some kind of psycho or something. He’s not. He’s a good man.
“No, I’m going. I have to,” I tell her. I don’t have to explain it to her. She gets it.
“Good for you, sis. I know you’re nervous, but you’re going to be fine. I’m going to miss spending Christmas with you, but this is definitely more important.”
Which reminds me. I cover my smirk with a cough. “I’m having your Christmas present delivered to you. Actually, it should be there any minute, so I’m going to let you go.”
“Wait, Christmas present, what are you talking about?”
I hear the doorbell ring, and I can’t stop the wide smile from forming. “That’s probably it. I love you, sis. I’ll text you later.”
I hit the hang up button and look at the road in front of me. It’s starting to snow, and already the roads are covered. What are you doing, Cassie? He lives a half mile up the road. You can do this.
Needing some motivation, I open the email app on my phone and go to the Gavin Dawson folder. As soon as I do, I go straight to the email I’ve been rereading for weeks.
Dear Cassie,
I can’t believe we’ve been emailing back and forth for over a year now. I also can’t believe that I’m leaving the Army at the end of next month. I know it’s going to be different. This is the only life I’ve known since I was eighteen years old. So twenty-two years of doing this, something I love, it’s going to be hard leaving it behind.
I know you asked me about my Christmas traditions. First of all, I love how much you love Christmas. Just reading about it in your emails makes me smile. So I don’t want to bum you out when you read this. But I’ve never celebrated Christmas before.
I was raised in foster care and well, we’ll just say it was never a priority with our foster parents. And then when I got into the Army, they do what they can to celebrate it, but well, it’s just not something I’ve ever got into.
Are you still talking to me? I figure you’re going through all my emails and deleting them and then you’re going to block me after that. I’m sorry. I do want you to know that knowing you, talking to you, it’s probably the closest thing I’ve ever gotten to that Christmas magic that people talk about.
I’m going to miss emailing you when I get out. I hope you know how much I appreciate you. Who knew that first tin of cookies you sent me would lead to us “talking” over a year later? I’m a lucky man that your Christmas tradition of sending cookies to people in the Army landed in my lap.
Anyway, now that I’ve completely gone way too sappy, I need to change the subject.
I hope you are doing well, and I’m glad you’re loving your kindergarten class this year. I may not “know” you, but I do know those kids are sure lucky to have you for their teacher.
Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon.
Your friend,
Gavin Dawson
My head falls back onto the seat. It still pains me to hear that he’s never celebrated Christmas. And that’s why I’m here. Of course it bothers me that he never mentioned meeting each other. I had hoped that when he got out, he would at least want to meet. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Heck, we’ve never even swapped pictures. It’s like he knew we were only short term, and that’s all he wanted, but I let myself hope for something more.
Regardless, I know that as his friend, I can’t let him spend Christmas alone. I look into the back seat of my car at all the Christmas supplies. I brought everything. A tree and all its trimmings, a wreath, tins of cookies, hot chocolate and presents. I’m ready for this. There’s no turning back now.
I shift the car into drive and pull out onto his road.
Gavin
I’ve been home less than twenty-four hours, and already I’m about to go stir crazy. I sit in the La-Z-Boy chair and rock, hoping to pass some time. I’ve already gone grocery shopping, cleaned the house from top to bottom, and chopped wood since I got home, and now I’m wondering what I’m going to do with myself. I’ve been an early riser for so long, I don’t know what it is to sleep in anymore. It’s early in the morning, and even though I would never have cared before, I can’t help but notice it’s Christmas Eve. And instantly my thoughts go to Cassie and what she’s doing right now.
She’s probably cooking, baking or doing something to celebrate the holiday. There’s a longing in my chest that causes me to rub my hand over it. The first time I felt the twinge, I thought I was having a heart attack. But the closer I got to my discharge date, and the more I thought about not talking to Cassie anymore, the worse the twinge got. Now it’s like a constant pressure right over my heart.
I lace my fingers together and put them over my stomach, rocking back and forth in the chair. Cassie. That’s all I’ve thought about. My twenty-two-year career in the Army I can survive without. It will take getting used to, but it’s doable. But I’m beginning to wonder if I made the right decision about Cassie. This last year I got to know her more than I know anyone. Fuck, more than my own foster brother. There were times I was vulnerable with her, and heck, that’s
not me. I’m not that way. But she was too easy to trust. She was too everything. Too loving, too sweet, too smart, too caring. With very little ease, she burrowed into my life, and now I’ve fucked it up.
I told her we wouldn’t be talking anymore when we got out. I knew it was the best thing to do. She’s way too young for me and way too sweet. I’m like a cankerous old man, and all I’ll do is bring her down. Nope. I made the right decision. It’s better this way. With another rub to my chest, I can’t help but wonder when I’m going to believe it, though.
2
Cassie
This is it. This is where Gavin lives. I look at the mailbox and see the big white letters that say Dawson. There’s a flutter in my chest just looking at his last name.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I get out of the car and stare up at the house. I found Gavin just by looking at old emails. I of course knew his last name was Dawson. And in one email he mentioned his brother had built his house in Mistletoe, Montana. It’s a three-hour drive from me, and I can’t help but wonder if he knew that or not. Did he ever even think about meeting me one day?
I shake my head, determined to get rid of the feelings of despair. This is not what this is about, Cassie. This is about Gavin not spending Christmas alone. That’s it.
I grip the rearview mirror and try to talk myself into walking up the driveaway and stepping onto the porch. It’s a beautiful ranch style house with a porch swing. There are no other houses on this street. I eye the swing again and immediately think of his foster brother, Baker. He has to be responsible for the porch swing because Gavin doesn’t really seem like the type to spend time on a porch swing.
I release my hold on the car and take tentative steps toward the porch. You can do this, Cassie, I chant to myself over and over. Worst case scenario, I leave without him even knowing it’s me. I don’t have to tell him who I am.
With much more confidence than I feel, I knock soundly on the door and take a step back.
I wait, wondering again for the zillionth time what he looks like. And if he’s going to be disappointed by what I look like. I pull the hem of my jacket down, trying to cover my wide hips a little more when suddenly the door swings open… and I’m staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Maybe I should have waited a little longer for the sun to come fully up.
I stagger back, almost falling on my butt before finally getting my ground and staying upright. I stare up at him, and he is definitely a force to reckon with. His reddish blond hair is a little shaggy, and it looks as if he hasn’t shaved in a few days. He’s big and muscular, his tight thermal shirt showing off every muscle of his chest and arms.
I look up into his eyes and notice that he’s staring at me too, but instead of the long glance up and down my body, it’s more of a glance over… and maybe a dismissive shrug.
“I, uh, yeah, I should probably go,” I mutter before turning on my heel.
I run-walk back to my car, trying to hold back the tears. I knew he would be handsome, but I guess I thought it wouldn’t matter. I could do what I came to do and leave. But seeing him, I know I couldn’t be around him without looking like a stalker. Heck, I’ve already ogled him. I guess he’s lucky I didn’t push him into the house and force myself on him at this point.
When I finally make it to my car, I start to open the door when an arm comes out of nowhere, and a hand lands on the door, stopping me from opening it.
“Wait,” he breathes right next to my ear. “Who are you?”
I don’t answer him, but I can’t resist. I turn around to where I’m looking up into his blue eyes. I blink but still can’t utter a word.
I look at his full lips with longing before turning away again.
“Cassie? Is that you?” he asks.
Gavin
Her head drops between her shoulders, and I hear a muffled, “Yes.”
Without second guessing myself, I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her around. I stare at her and take her in from head to toe. She’s here. She’s really here.
Her blond hair is in a high ponytail. Her hazel eyes are big and wide and don’t hide a single emotion that crosses her face. Her body is trembling, and I don’t know if it’s from the cold or because she’s nervous.
She was hard to resist before I ever saw here… now I have a face to go with her name, and I know that I’ll never be able to get her out of my mind.
“You’re here. You’re really here,” I tell her, my hands sliding up her shoulders to wrap on each side of her neck. I angle her face so she’s looking up at me.
She grabs on to my forearm. “I’m here. I hope that’s okay.”
I stare at her in wonder. How did she find me? What is she doing here? “Come in, I’m sorry, what am I thinking?” I tell her as she shivers again.
I put my hand to the small of her back and walk her back up the driveway, up the front steps, and inside the house.
“Here, let me take your coat, then you can sit by the fire.” Her teeth start to chatter, and I help her quickly out of her coat. I almost miss the clothes rack because I’m staring at her as she moves toward the open flames. It was hard to tell in the bulky winter jacket, but now there’s no denying it. Cassie has a body made for sin. She brings out every one of my savage thoughts. Her waist leads into wide hips, and I have to stand my ground so I don’t chase after her to put my hands on her. She’s tempting, and the insecure way she looks at me over her shoulder tells me that she has no idea how tantalizing she really is.
I take a deep breath and follow behind her. “Have a seat,” I tell her as I lay a blanket over top of her.
“Thanks,” she says. “So I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
I just shrug and try to hide my smile. I don’t care why she’s here. The only thing that matters to me is the fact that she’s here.
“So I know you probably think I’m a stalker.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
She giggles, and the sound is probably the most glorious thing I’ve ever heard. “Okay, that’s good. Well, I’ve thought a lot about our emails, and well, I know that you didn’t plan on us talking anymore, but I had to come and do this.”
I move to the end of my seat and lean forward. There’s a decent distance between us, but with how tall I am, our knees are almost touching. “Do what?”
“All I’ve been able to think about is you here by yourself at Christmas. I came because I wanted to repay you. I didn’t want you to be alone. I wanted you to experience Christmas.”
I sit back in my chair, stunned. I never open up with anyone, but with her I did. She knows that I never celebrate Christmas. And now she’s here… to share it with me.
“What about your sister?” I remember her telling me that she and her sister and sometimes her stepbrother spend every Christmas together since their parents moved to Florida and usually take a cruise at Christmas time.
She holds her hands up and laughs. “Don’t worry. I called in reinforcements. She won’t be alone for Christmas.”
I’m still a little shaken up by what she’s saying. “So… you’re going to spend Christmas here… with me?”
Her eyes widen. “Well, I mean, gosh when you say it that way it sounds really presumptuous. I can just leave everything. I don’t have to spend Christmas here. I can just set it up and go.”
“No! I mean, if you’ve come all this way, I think it’s only right I get the full effect, right?”
She starts to take the blanket off, and I panic that she’s about to leave. She covers my knee with her hand, and I can’t look anywhere except at her soft hand with pink tipped fingernails. “You can tell me the truth. I can leave if this makes you uncomfortable.”
I look into her eyes. The only thing that’s uncomfortable is the way my cock is reacting to her touch. My jeans tighten between my thighs. “I’m not uncomfortable. I want you to stay.”
“Yay!” she laughs, jumping out of her chair, and starts bouncing toward the door. “I
have to get stuff out of my car. You wouldn’t believe everything I brought. We are going to have so much fun.”
She starts talking about Christmas trees and hot chocolate and who knows what else. I am too lost in thought as I help her put her coat back on and follow her out to her car. I was right about a few things. She’s way too young and way too sweet. I should have sent her on her way, but I couldn’t. Instead, I’m wondering how I’m going to keep my hands off of her.
She bends over and grabs something from the back seat of her car, and I barely stifle my groan. I could move a foot closer and have my hard cock buried against her soft ass.
She raises up and looks at me over her shoulder. “Thank you, Gavin. You’re not going to regret this.”
Fuck! I hope she doesn’t come to regret it either.
3
Cassie
Gavin insisted on carrying everything in, mumbling something about needing to run off some energy. So he handed me the wreath to carry in and I’ve stood in his warm, cozy house as he walks in and out carrying box after box of things. “Are you freaking out right now?” I ask him when he’s made the last trip and is coming in with my suitcase.
“No, why would I be?”
I look around at all the Christmas decorations, boxes and suitcases and then back to him. “I’m not moving in or anything. I only plan to stay until the day after Christmas.” I blush again, realizing that not only have I pushed my way into this man’s house, now I’ve told him how long I plan on staying. I close my eyes and twitch my head back and forth. I swear I have more couth than this. “I mean, if that’s okay.”
