He Comes Home
Shepherd’s Creek, Book One
Sophia Martin
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2019
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Sophia Martin
He Comes Home
EBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-128-6
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Sophia Martin
Blushing Books
Prologue
"It's not you; it's me."
Alannah's words circled around her head like the tweeting birds after a cartoon character took a hit. It wasn't supposed to be like this, was it? When you were the one who ended a relationship, you were supposed to feel free. The dumper wasn't meant to feel like a dumpee.
Maybe it was the look of horror on Harry's face, the way he had stared at her like this was the last thing he'd ever expected, like she was tearing out his heart with her words.
"It's not you; it's me. It's us. Harry, it's… I love you, but I'm not in love with you anymore. I know it sounds crazy—"
He broke in. "Absolutely, it sounds crazy. Allie, where is this coming from? Is this why you didn't want to plan anything for the wedding? You've been planning on breaking it off?"
Al had to swallow her own sob to speak. "Of course not! I haven't been planning this. I haven't been working up to it—"
"Then what is going on, Al?"
"It's not enough!" Her voice was thick with the cry caught in her throat. "I need more than this, okay? I want… I want passion and excitement, and I want to feel needed."
"Is this about the sex?" Harry's cheeks went slightly pink, but he forged on. "Maybe we're in a rut. Allie, when you brought it up, I didn't realise it was this important to you. We can try new things. We can," he heaved in a breath, "Alannah, you are needed. I need you."
"No, you don't," Al said softly. "You're a good man, Harry, and I won't lead you on. But I can't be with you anymore."
She could see the exact moment that he realised he wasn't getting through to her. His face shut down, closing him off from her; Harry, who had always said she could read him like a book. Harry, who had looked at her like she'd handed him the moon the first time she'd asked him upstairs rather than finishing their goodnight kiss at the door. Harry, who wanted to build a life with her.
"Then, go," he said eventually. "If you're going to leave me, then leave."
She did.
Chest hollow, she closed his front door quietly behind herself and drove away. They had never officially moved in together. She loved her house too much to part with it, but Harry was more comfortable in his own space, so she spent a lot of nights at his place. He'd force himself to box up and return her things, she thought; he was that kind of man. Or maybe he wouldn't, maybe he'd cut her clothes into pieces or burn them or throw them out, and she couldn't begrudge him that little act of revenge. So maybe she'd need to replace a few pairs of leggings and the red heels he'd loved so much, he had asked her to keep them on when they went to bed one time. She'd just ended her engagement to a man she'd been dating since the age of nineteen. She could justify buying a new pair of shoes.
When she arrived at work the next morning, Alannah went straight to her boss. Fiona was, as usual, already behind her desk despite the early hour. Sometimes Al wondered if she ever left the office, or if maybe she had a sleeping bag hidden in one of her cabinets and got her tan by dictating to her secretary in front of a floor-to-ceiling window.
"Are you all right, Alannah?" Fiona asked. "You don't look well."
"I'm fine," Al managed. "Do you have a minute?"
She really must have looked like shit, because Fiona actually closed her laptop. "Sure."
Al sat on the edge of one of the chairs in front of Fiona's desk, hands twisting in her lap. "It's about the job in Mansfield. I know I said I couldn't be onsite every day because of how far away it is, but I've changed my mind. I'm prepared to move there if that's what it takes to get the job. I'm interested."
Chapter 1
The first thing Rex recognised was the big tin sign on the outskirts of town. Welcome to Shepherd's Creek! It was older, sure, rusted through in a few more places, but the marker of his hometown took him back to age five, when his family had trundled into town and Rex and his three older brothers began the reign of benign chaos that had lasted until Rex enlisted at eighteen. He figured at least half the dents in that sign could be attributed to the Castlereagh boys in one way or another and the memory had him grinning as dust swirled in the wake of his passage into town.
As a five-year-old, Shepherd's Creek had seemed enormous, an endless landscape of new hiding places and wide open spaces large enough for a game of soccer. Rex, the adult, could see that it was a small but charming country town, midway along a railway line. Now, after eight years of the army dictating his every move, the place just felt comfortable.
He'd only been back once since he enlisted, for his oldest brother Jared's wedding five years ago. Even then, he'd only managed to breeze through for a few days. He kept up with his family via Skype and phone and email, and between Jared's wife Ivy and his own mother, he was kept informed of what seemed like all the gossip the town could produce. But nothing compared to driving past Mrs Green's bakery, the coffee shop on the corner where he'd had his first date, the hardware store where he had worked weekends during high school. The buildings had been repainted, and there were a few more neon signs, but the old architecture and streets wide enough for two wagons to pass remained the same.
The familiarity was like a cool drink of water on a hot day.
Rex turned his rattling rust bucket of a car into his parents' driveway—he'd bought it cheaply after his return, purely for the three-day drive back to Shepherd's Creek, and it had barely survived the trip—and sat staring at the house he grew up in. It was somewhat surreal, returning to this place after so long. The garden beds were still running wild under his parents' benign neglect, only now there were roses in with the lavender; the clumsily painted wind chime Rex had made at school still hung from a branch of the maple tree, but the front door was now blue instead of green.
Swiping a hand over his face—he needed about sixteen straight hours of sleep—Rex clambered out of the car—and promptly wondered whether he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming, because the perfectly rounded ass of his fucking fantasies was bent over barely ten feet away.
Hooooly shit.
She was wearing jean shorts, the woman with the ass to end all fantasies, cut off short enough that the ragged edges would toy with the crease below those taut cheeks once she stood upright. Only Rex kind of hoped she waited a w
hile before she rose from her position kneeling on the ground, leaning forward so she was nearly on all fours with her hands busy in the garden bed before her, because he needed time to find a master painter to immortalise her image for worship by future generations. Or, failing that, give that supple flesh a nip and give her a reason to stay bent over.
Shit, just the idea of getting his mouth anywhere near the juncture of her thighs was enough to send blood to his dick, like it had been waiting for her appearance to break erection speed records and come to life more fully than ever before.
"Rex!"
Realising he was still frozen behind his open car door, Rex attempted to slam it closed on its rusty hinges and wound up smacking himself right in the hipbone with the door's sharp edge.
"Mum," he grunted, trying to control his immediate impulse to swear prolifically. Never had to do that among soldiers.
"That's gotta hurt." Gina Castlereagh winced in sympathy, waiting until Rex had managed to close his door successfully before pulling him down into a hug. "Welcome home, sweetie."
"Good to be back," Rex announced stiffly, almost glad for his throbbing hip since the pain had taken care of the semi hardness he'd developed when confronted with the world's most delicious derriere. No man should have to greet his own mother moments after seeing that.
"Am I late? I wasn't sure what time you'd be expecting me." He refused to look back at the sexy gardener as he lifted his duffel on to his shoulder and followed his mother up the pathway to the house.
"Don't be silly, Rex, it's just lovely to have you home. I can't believe it's been five years since Jared and Ivy got married. I was expecting Eric or Nate to follow by now, but I can't really see either of them settling down, can you?" Talking all the while, Gina gestured to Rex to precede her into the house, but to his surprise, she closed the screen door behind him without following.
The sound of a voice calling her name told him why. "Gina, could you find a use for some tomatoes? I've got more than I could possibly eat, so I brought over a few."
Shit, the gardener. For the first time in his life, Rex was horrified at the idea of running into a beautiful woman. He knew that he should be jumping at the chance to see if she was just as stunning from another angle. Besides, he would meet her at some point—everyone knew everyone in Shepherd's Creek. If he was any less than polite, his whole family would give him shit for it.
And there was the major issue, because he'd have to be polite and welcoming, but he was exhausted from three days of driving, and she was wearing shorts that would tempt the fucking Pope.
The sound of his mother's laugh broke through his thoughts. "Honey, you can give me all the vegetables you like. I've been meaning to make some chutney, and you know Andrew will eat anything you grow. He might start digging over your veggie garden in the hopes that he'll get a few more."
Rex hesitated in the door for a moment before deciding he was in no state to meet newcomers to the town. He stepped through to the lounge room, almost not daring to touch anything. The couches were new, but the mantle was just as crowded with pictures as ever, a storyboard of notable moments in the lives of the four Castlereagh boys. Four fat pink babies, four first days of school, four graduations; the uncomfortable smiles of posed family photos mixed with candid snaps characterised by the wrestling that seemed to break out any time Rex and his brothers were kept in the same room for more than about six minutes. There was one of the day Rex left for basic training, standing between his parents, duffel bag at his feet. He traced his fingers over the frames, half-listening for his mother to come back inside. He felt almost like a stranger in this familiar-but-different house, or maybe like a ghost, haunting a place that used to be his.
"Tell him he's always welcome to do the weeding." The gardener's voice drifted through the door, cutting into his trip down memory lane. "I've been at it for hours, and my back is killing me."
"I hope you had sunscreen on," his mum chided gently. "Why don't you come in for some tea? I've just taken scones out of the oven, and we're finishing the last of the jam Andy made from your strawberries. And you could say hi to Rex; he's just arrived a minute ago."
"Rex is home?" The voice came from closer now, followed by the sound of the door closing once more.
Clearly, his mother's gossiping went both ways if the gardener knew who he was. He could only hope she hadn't heard any of the truly embarrassing stories—although, knowing Gina, that would be exactly what she told first. Wearily, Rex smoothed the exhaustion from his face and slipped on the smile he usually reserved for official functions he didn't want to attend.
The expression slid off again as the two women rounded the corner and he took in the vision in front of him—endless legs, the cut off shorts that had him salivating, a thin white tank top sticking just slightly to her skin, long blonde braid draped over one shoulder, and the face partly hidden by the big sunhat she was in the process of removing.
He stopped.
No way.
"Alannah?"
"Rex!" the bombshell cried. Next thing he knew, she'd all but thrown herself into his arms, and his hands settled on her lower back, so close to the perfection of her barely-covered ass. "You're home!"
"Hey there." Apparently, his brain was stuck on the hello part of the conversation—unsurprising, since it was rapidly losing blood in favour of supplying his cock, which was pressed against her taut belly as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." She pulled away, forcing him to relinquish his grip on her sweet little ass, and he tried to remind his long-neglected dick that his damn mother was in the room. He couldn't force himself to let her go completely, though; his hands settled on the curve of her waist as she stepped back to look him over.
"I figured you'd moved away, what with the new house," he offered, returning the perusal with as little obvious arousal as he could manage. "They were knocking down your old place last time I was here."
How was it possible that Alannah, who'd spent hours when they were teenagers bemoaning her lack of curves, had become this perfectly proportioned bombshell?
"Just goes to show you should come home more often," Gina interjected. At the reminder of her presence, he dropped his hands, and his mother wrapped an arm around Alannah's shoulders.
"I still live there," Alannah tossed over one shoulder toward Rex as his mother steered her into the kitchen. "I was over all the time when my mum was sick, and after she passed, I just never moved back out. The rebuild was a good way to distract myself after she was gone."
"That must have been before Jared and Ivy got hitched." Before he realised what he was doing, Rex had moved closer than was polite, crowding into her personal space. She leaned up against the kitchen table, head tilted up to meet his eyes, and he remembered belatedly that he'd changed as much as she had in the last eight years. No longer gangly, growing into his limbs and height the way he had been at eighteen; he was a big man, and he was usually mindful of crowding people. Apparently, just seeing Alannah had him reverting to a time where he resembled a stick insect and didn't have to worry about unnerving people by getting uncomfortably close to them.
"A few months before, yeah."
Was he imagining it, or did her breathing get just slightly unsteady as she took him in? He felt her gaze like fingertips trailing down his abs, and his own breaths roughened up a little. He suddenly remembered that he'd been driving all day and probably smelled like sweat and took a hasty step away.
"That's why I missed their wedding," Alannah added. It took Rex a moment to remember what they were talking about. "I wasn't much fit for company for a while there."
She met his eyes, and suddenly she was Al again, the girl next door with her bouncy blonde curls, coming over to play on the swing set with Rex and his brothers, beating all of them at Mario Kart, crying on his shoulder when her first boyfriend broke her heart. Al, whom he'd been so protective of as a teenager that he'd challenged the boyfriend to a fistfight and had his
nose broken for his trouble. He fought the urge to wrap her in a hug.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," Rex said. "I didn't know. I would have come to see you while I was here."
"I'm sure I told you." Gina slid a plate of scones on to the table, her tone amused. "Just goes to show, you never listen to me. Now sit down so I can make you two some tea."
"Just water for me, thanks anyway." Alannah sat and crossed one thigh over the other, revealing inches of taut inner thigh that he wanted to sink his teeth into. "I've been out in the sun all afternoon, and it is hot out there."
"I can make it, Mum. You sit down." Rex had to open three cupboards to find the teapot, but it was still preferable to staring hopelessly at Alannah Green's legs. Not that it stopped him checking her out, of course; every time he looked, she seemed to be playing with her braid or toying with the frayed edge of those shorts. The denim looked soft, well-worn; maybe she'd cut a pair of jeans a little shorter than she intended. They would slip down her legs easily if he just tugged a little.
Rex mentally smacked himself and fixed his attention on the kettle.
"Is it true you're home for good, Rex?" Alannah asked once he'd finished making tea and had set a cup in front of his mother. Gina smiled up at him gratefully, and he wondered how many hours she'd spent on her feet today. She liked to run herself ragged, and even though he'd said not to go to any trouble, she and his dad had probably scrubbed down his old room to hospital-grade cleanliness.
"Yeah, for the foreseeable," Rex said. He poured his own tea and tried to relax. It was unexpectedly difficult to unclench the muscles in his shoulders. "I was ready to come home."
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