This time he tenses up and now I’m the one comforting him. I wrap my arms around him in a tight hug.
“I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just trying to say…”
“That it’s obvious how fucked up my family is.”
“Well, my point is that my family is crazy too. I guess every family is in its own way, but mine is more… lurking beneath the surface. Everything on the outside looks nice and perfect, but the second someone challenges it, everything starts to boil up to the surface, if not just plain erupt, and I’m afraid…”
“You’re afraid that dating someone like me will cause your parents to go ballistic,” he finishes my awkward run-on sentence for me.
“I… yeah. I do want you to know that no matter what, I want to be with you. But I’m not sure that it’s going to be easy.”
“That’s fine,” he says, kissing me once again. “That’s all I needed to hear. And by the way, nothing worth fighting for is ever easy to obtain.”
“Oh sage, wise one,” I joke, as the doorbell rings.
Here goes nothing.
“Hello, Dear,” says my mom, as soon as I open the door.
She’s holding a pie, and my dad and sister Samantha are behind her.
“Hi Mom, come on in,” I say, and step aside to let them through.
“This is my boyfriend, Jensen,” I say. “Jensen, this is Mom, Dad and Samantha.”
“Well, hello,” says my mom, as if she doesn’t know what else to say. I watch my dad’s eyes size up Jensen’s tattoos while his mouth curls into a distasteful snarl, as Jensen shakes my mom’s hand and then moves on to meet my father.
“Jensen, huh?” asks Samantha, when it’s her turn to meet him. “An interesting name for an interesting choice for my sister.”
Her tone is both flirtatious and condescending, a combination that only Samantha can pull off. Her long blonde hair glides along her skinny back as she turns away from Jensen, and I swear she wiggles her almost non-existent ass. I think about calling her out but I don’t want to ruin the evening before it even begins.
We head to the kitchen where I serve the chicken cacciatore I made earlier today.
“Very nice, Riley,” Mom says approvingly.
“What happened to the low carb diet?” Samantha bursts out.
“I ditched it.”
I take a defiant bite of my dinner. Samantha sizes Jensen up again, and he graciously says, “I don’t think Riley needs to be on a diet. She looks great the way she is.”
“Thanks, honey.” I smile and squeeze his hand under the table. He squeezes back reassuringly.
I can tell that Samantha wants to ask how a completely in shape guy could like a fatty like me. It’s something I wondered myself, before something changed. At some point I realized that Jensen was really into my body, and that I should be too. And I feel confident enough around him to wear the spaghetti strap dress I’m wearing tonight.
Samantha doesn’t ask that question. I think even she knows that would be taking things a bit too far. Instead, she asks, “So what happened to Charles?”
“Samantha dear, that’s inappropriate,” Mom says.
“But what did happen to him?” asks my Dad.
“I ditched him too,” I shrug.
Just before Jensen knocked him out cold, I think, but don’t say. I decide a half-lie is better than the whole truth. He is technically the one who dumped me, but there’s no way I’d want him back.
“Riley, you know I respect your choices but this is a bit of a shock to us,” my mom says. “One day we’re at the Albuquerque Country Club with your fiancé and his father who is the head of the firm you work at, and the next day we’re…”
“At my house with my new boyfriend?” I ask them. “And by the way, it’s the firm I used to work at. And the guy who used to be my boyfriend. Not my fiancé.”
My father sets his silverware down and clears his throat. I gulp, scared yet proud of myself for putting it out there right away. I could anticipate that asking about my job and career was next on their agenda, and I wanted to be in control of the conversation, for once.
“I’m sorry, what?” Mom asks, her smile fading.
“This is great entertainment, Riley,” says Samantha, as she stuffs her face. “And to think I almost went to the movies instead.”
“Please stay out of this, Samantha,” Dad says. “Riley, what are you talking about?”
“The firm and I weren’t a good fit,” I tell him. “I don’t want to work there— or anywhere like there— ever again.”
Jensen squeezes my hand again and I turn my head slightly to see that he’s smiling proudly at me. And I’m proud of myself for saying exactly what I mean, for once. And even for knowing exactly what I mean.
At lunch after his trial, Jensen said that he had gotten everything he wanted and then realized it wasn’t actually what he wanted. For me, the reverse is true. I didn’t get anything I wanted, but then I realized I hadn’t really wanted any of it anyway. I had wanted something different. I had wanted this.
“I don’t understand,” Mom says. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to sleep in later than 5 am, and go to bed later than 9:30 pm. I’m going to feel much more relaxed not worrying whether I’ve impressed enough of the right partners for my next evaluation, or whether I’ve accidentally impressed a partner who’s on the outs with the firm, and somehow gotten caught up in firm politics without even knowing what happened…”
“She meant for work, Riley,” Dad says, as if I’m an idiot and didn’t know that. “What are you going to do for work?”
“I work for Veterans’ Legal Alliance, representing former members of our military,” I tell him.
“Tell me that’s not how you met Jensen!” Samantha sputters.
I glare at her. She’s just jealous because she can’t avoid drama long enough to keep a boyfriend, and she has no career at all, and still lives with our parents. She may be the standard definition of beautiful, but for once I feel confident that I’ve got a lot more going for me than she does.
“You shagged your client! You did!” Samantha gloats.
I ignore her and continue.
“I also have my own office, downtown, and I’m going to start to take on some of my own clients.”
“But how are is any of this going to be enough to make a living on?” my dad asks. “I mean, a real living? And what about all the money we invested into your future? Law school cost a fortune.”
“It was money well spent, Dad,” I tell him, and reach out to put my hand on top of his. He looks down at it, surprised. He and I have never had the best relationship. “Thank you for putting me through college and law school. I really appreciate it. I am enjoying being a lawyer now more than I ever have in the past.”
Mom and Dad look at each other, completely perplexed. I can just see them saying to each other telepathically: “This is not the Riley we are used to!”
But I’m sick of bending over backwards to please them, going along with everything they want and basing my life decisions off of their demands. I’m on a new path, and they can either come with me or stay where they are, stomping their feet at me for not going exactly the way they want me to go.
“How about some pie?” Mom asks.
“What?” Samantha says, quickly turning to face Mom.
“Well, why not?” I say, and stand up to retrieve everyone’s plate.
“I’ll get it,” says Jensen, getting up with me, and so I go to get the pie.
I can practically see Samantha fuming and storming inside. She is used to our parents lecturing me and even belittling me like she does. She’s the pretty one and as spoiled as can be. But I’m the smart one and the family expectations ride on my shoulders.
“We’re only so tough on you because we care so much, and know you’re capable of so much,” they’ve told me many times before. But this time they don’t know what to say. They had no idea I’m capable of being myself. And nei
ther did I, before I met Jensen.
Later, after they’ve finally left, Jensen and I are laying in my bed, cuddling.
“That wasn’t so bad,” he says, and then laughs.
“Stop it!” I laugh too, so hard that I snort.
“I totally get what you mean now, about your crazy family. They’re as bonkers as mine. Or maybe more so.”
“I’m just glad they didn’t completely flip out at me,” I admit.
My biggest fear was that they would disown me, but now that I think about it, that wouldn’t be so bad, as long as I still have Jensen.
“It’s because you stood up for yourself,” he says, “and I was so proud of you. It was plain as day that they aren’t used to it and weren’t expecting it. You took them by surprise, and you had the upper hand. Even over that bratty sister of yours.”
“Isn’t she awful?”
I laugh harder.
“I think you deserve a treat for having to put up with them,” he says, as he kisses my stomach and then my pelvis.
“You’re the one who had to endure meeting them for the first time, and who likely will have to put up with more visits in the future,” I remind him. “But, hey, I could never turn down your offer for such a treat.”
He’s already pushing up my negligée, and kissing my inner thighs. A satisfied shudder runs through my body.
His mouth lightly touches me on the outside and then he runs his tongue up and down my eager bud.
“That feels so good, Jensen.”
“You deserve to relax,” he says, reaching up to play with my nipple. “You really are amazing.”
He licks and teases me and then inserts a finger while he nibbles on my clitoris. Soon I’m unable to hold back. I grab his hair as he moves his head all over me while I come.
“Oh my God, Jensen, this is the best feeling in the world.”
I let go and feel my orgasm erupt and seem to split into many tiny ones as he rubs and chews on my stimulated nerve endings.
Then he takes his boxer briefs off and slips a condom on.
Lying on top of me, he enters me while holding my head in his hands. He kisses my mouth, my neck, and my mouth again, and I’m reminded of the very first time he kissed me and sealed our fate, even though I just didn’t know it yet.
“I’m so glad I met you, Jensen Bradford,” I say, as he thrusts inside me, up and down, and grunts his agreement. “I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for you.”
He sucks on my nipples while continuing to move in and out of me, causing my breathing to increase once again. I easily come again, and then I feel him pulse and grip my shoulders tightly as he himself comes.
Lying back down beside me in bed, he says, “If it weren’t for me, you’d probably be hooked back up with that Charles loser, working at that awful firm again.”
“And if it weren’t for me, you’d probably be in jail,” I say.
We laugh as we hold each other tight.
“Good thing Mr. Holt made me volunteer to help veterans,” I say.
“Good thing my mom made me have to punch a guy out.”
We lie together in the darkness for a while longer, a comfortable silence between us.
“Jensen?” I ask.
There’s no response, and then I hear his deep sleep breathing.
Oh well. I was just going to tell him I love him. But I can wait to tell him tomorrow. And every day after that.
THE END.
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The next book in the Bradford Brothers series is Just Pretend and it tells Harlow’s story and follows for a limited time as bonus content please continue reading for your enjoyment.
Just Pretend – A Navy SEAL Fake Fiancé Romance
Copyright © 2017 by Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Published by Sizzling Hot Reads.
Chapter 1 – Harlow
8 Months Ago
Our Boeing CH-47 Chinook is barely off the ground before all of us within it begin celebrating.
“Yeah buddy!” My brother Jensen shouts, high- fiving everyone around before swooping me up in an exuberant hug.
“We did it!” shouts my other brother Ramsey, but the smoke that still fills his lungs forces him to cough out the last part of the exclamation.
We’ve just successfully extracted eight downed servicemen from behind enemy lines in southeastern Afghanistan. Their plane had been shot down by a surface-to-air missile. Without us rescuing them from hostile territory they’d likely have been captured and taken as prisoners as war.
“And this is why we do the things we do!” shouts Brian, a team member who isn’t my literal, blood brother like Jensen and Ramsey are, but one who has become a figurative brother— just as all the men in my unit have become.
Then Brian yells out: “Leave no man behind!”
Several other men begin chanting one of our mantras along with him and then calling out others.
“Failure is not an option!”
“The only easy day was yesterday!”
As Navy SEALs, we spend years training for rescue missions such as these. We’re stealth and covert; we sneak in when there’s danger and fucking clean up the place and rescue anyone left behind.
We do whatever it takes to rescue even one service member who may be at risk. It’s nice to know that our hard work and perseverance have paid off, and that once again we’ve rescued American lives.
And yet…
As my brothers in arms continue to celebrate, and I chant along with them, I can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. I hear shots being fired in the distance, and think of how we’ve been warned that rescue helicopters and their crews often come under fire during or immediately after their rescue efforts.
“Are we completely in the clear yet?” I ask Jensen, looking out the window at the smoldering scene below us.
It’s only getting more dangerous out here: insurgents lay ambushes and place bombs or other devices that specifically target our missions and those of search and rescue teams who also help rescue downed servicemembers. We call these “SAR traps”: Search and Rescue traps.
“Lighten up, little brother,” Jensen, jokingly punching me on the shoulder.
He’s always been the playful one out of the three of us. As the middle brother, although to the outside world he’s had his share of drama and problems—as all of us Bradford boys have— within our family he’s lived up to the stereotypical reputation of a peacekeeper, a “fixer,” a friendly face who is always eager to make us smile, a listening ear when we’re going through anything. And we love him for it.
“Shut up, spoilsport!” Brian shouts, and a few other people chant, “Shut up Harlow! Shut up Harlow!” in a teasing manner.
“Seriously, Harlow,” says Ramsey, always the voice of reason. “You did well, and it’s time to celebrate.”
As the oldest of us three brothers, he’s always Mr. No-Nonsense, dispensing advice even when it’s unsolicited and sometimes downright unwelcome, but always being the firm yet somehow still gentle hand that guides us.
Fuck it. If everyone else is in good spirits, I might as well make sure to shift my own mood to match theirs. If even Ramsey says it’s okay to cut back and have a little fun for once, I’d better listen. As the youngest brother, I have the reputation for being the prankster, the fun-loving free spirit among us— even if this external demeanor is only a mask for the internal worries and constant anxiety I keep shoved deep down within myself.
“Leave no man behind! Failure is not an option!” I shout, beginning some of the chants anew that they had all been stuck on before they started telling me to shut up.
They soon join me but my voice is louder and stronger than th
e others, since they had been repeating the phrases for quite a while now, while I had only been quietly brooding. I’m on a roll, swept up by the momentum and exhilaration we’re all feeling.
I’m giving into my brothers’ and team members’ advice. I’m celebrating our victory instead of worrying about what will happen next, as I too often do. I’m going with the flow, feeling great for once.
And then it happens.
Our helicopter is spinning out of control, being downed just as certainly as the one from which we just rescued the eight other men.
“We’ve been shot down!” someone yells.
This obvious statement is the last thing I hear for a while. As I drift into unconsciousness, I’m wondering if it will be the last thing I ever hear.
I come to in the aircraft that is now flaming and downed. I see an uncountable number of unconscious people in the helicopter, so I spring to action, extricating them from the burning wreckage.
Where’s Jensen?
Where’s Ramsey?
Where are my other team members?
There are many limp bodies, but I don’t see Jensen or Ramsey among them. Although amidst the flames I can barely make out who’s who, I’m certain I could recognize my own brothers, whom I’ve known since I was born. I can only hope the fact that I don’t see them in this pile of wreckage means that they’re among the men helping to rescue others, as I myself begin doing.
Those of us who are conscious work to remove those who are unconscious, without looking at or talking to each other. We’re simply determined to save lives before we run out of time. Time until the aircraft explodes. Time until the enemy shows up…
In the back of my mind I fear captivity and torture, and I can’t help but hope that someone just like me is on the way to save us. A backup team of SEALs, although I know that those of us assigned to this mission were all contained in the downed helicopter. There’s not much time for fear, though, and pure adrenaline keeps me working like a madmen to scoop up the bodies out of the plane before…
Hold Onto Me_A Secret Baby Romance Page 28
