by Ivy Jordan
I stepped towards him, lifted my arms to his strong shoulders, careful to avoid his injury, and pulled myself into his bare chest.
“You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, I’m taking advantage of you,” I snickered.
A loud shriek roared from my throat as Xander gripped me tightly around the waist and scooped me into his arms. He carried me to the bed, dropping me hard enough on the mattress that I bounced. I laughed uncontrollably with surprise and happiness, mostly happiness, as he lowered himself over me, covering my body like a blanket with his.
Chapter Thirteen
Xander
I woke up with my arms still wrapped around Bailey. Her skin was so soft and smooth that it felt like silk against my arms. My lips gently pushed into the back of her neck, nuzzling past the long red hair that flowed down her back. She was beautiful, truly beautiful.
“Good morning,” she mumbled, her voice so mild and delicious I couldn’t think of anything sweeter to wake up to.
“Yes, it is,” I whispered, offering another soft kiss to the nape of her neck.
“How did you sleep?” she asked, rolling over in my arms to face me.
Her deep green eyes stirred that unfamiliar feeling in my gut once again, and I had to swallow hard to keep my throat from closing.
“I slept like a rock,” I admitted, realizing it was the first time I’d slept all night in a long time.
There were no nightmares, no flashbacks of war, and no guilt riding me from letting my boys down.
“Good,” she whispered, pulling herself into my chest.
The feel of her cheek against my heart made it beat faster, harder even.
“No nightmares?” she questioned.
Her hot breath hit against my skin as she spoke. I stroked her hair, carefully moving it from her shoulder. I stared at the tiny freckles on her skin, lost in a trance for a moment as I pondered her question.
“Not a one,” I sighed.
“You just need to hold me,” she giggled.
She was being playful, but it was true, at least that was what I believed. I’d spent every night waking up in a sweat before holding her. No matter where I’d gone, I couldn’t get away from the images and sounds that haunted my mind. During the day I could control the thoughts, keeping busy with work, but at night, they took over.
“You may be on to something,” I chuckled, squeezing her tightly in my arms.
“Then I need to stay,” she whispered.
Her head lifted, allowing her big green eyes to stare into mine. My heart ached at the thought of her leaving, but I knew she would. She would have to, eventually.
“You have a life out there,” I chuckled half-heartedly.
I felt that sinking feeling in my chest and a grinding in my gut from my words. Bailey, if that was her name, had a life, and it didn’t include me. This was a matter of circumstance. I saved her, she felt grateful, and without memory of what waited for her outside these cabin walls, I was her life, but only for now.
“I like this life,” she said sweetly.
I do too.
“Living out in the middle of nowhere isn’t any kind of life for you, or anyone,” I pointed out.
“If it’s good enough for you, why not me?” she questioned.
“You don’t have a past haunting you like mine,” I smiled.
“As long as you have me next to you, in your arms, your past can’t haunt you,” she sighed.
I wish it were that easy, and that it was true. It was one night; that’s all. I’m sure I’ve had random nights where I didn’t wake up sweating, even though I couldn’t remember when, or if ever.
I squeezed her gently into my arms, causing her head to fall back onto my chest. My heart was racing, and I knew she could feel it against her cheek. She was doing something to me, but what, I wasn’t certain.
“If you don’t want me here, you could always come with me,” she breathed.
I chuckled. The thought of leaving my lifestyle for one that involved the hustle and bustle of town amused me.
“I don’t think so,” I laughed.
Her head lifted again, this time abruptly, and her expression was filled with irritation. “Why is that so funny?” she demanded. Her lips were tightly pressed together, and her eyes glaring into mine.
“It’s not being with you that’s funny, it’s me living in town. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to handle that,” I admitted.
“What’s so bad about town?” she asked.
“The noise, the people, the way of life,” I explained.
“Way of life?” she questioned.
I sighed. I knew she wouldn’t understand. No one understood, and that was fine with me. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, it didn’t matter if anyone understood.
“I’m just not cut out for the daily grind of life in town,” I said carefully.
Bailey sighed, resting her head back onto my chest.
“So, you want to be alone?” she asked.
For the first time since I don’t know when, that was a question I couldn’t answer. Before Bailey fell on the path below my cabin, my answer would have been yes, without a doubt. Now, after spending this time with her, enjoying having her near me, it wasn’t such an easy answer.
“I like being here with you,” I said softly, brushing her hair from her face. I could see her lips curling into a smile, and knowing she was happy calmed my pounding heart.
“I need to get some heat in here,” I said quickly.
As I started to move, she pushed into me, letting her weight pin me to the mattress. I chuckled as I lifted anyway, showing her she wasn’t strong enough to stop me.
“I’m plenty warm enough,” she whined.
“Yes, until you get up,” I warned with a laugh.
“I don’t want to get up. I want to stay in bed all day,” she argued.
“What will we do for heat?” I asked.
“We’ll just make love,” she answered.
“And food?”
She giggled. “We can nourish one another.”
I laughed as I scooted from the bed and to my feet. That all sounded nice, but not realistic. I’ve lived in the woods long enough to know that heat needs to be flowing at all times in the cold months of the winter, especially during a storm. And food, yes, it is needed as well.
She pouted with her bottom lip out as I walked towards the fire. I turned to watch her snuggling up into the blanket with her eyes staring at my backside.
“You checking me out?” I chuckled.
“It’s a beautiful view,” she sighed.
I worked on the fire, adding a couple logs and working the poker until the flames started to rise. I’d never been buck naked in the cabin, or any cabin in this kind of cold before, and it was almost too painful to bear.
“Come back to bed,” she coaxed, lifting the blankets to invite me inside.
I caught a glimpse of her nude body, perfectly curved, sexy and smooth, causing my cock to twitch against my leg.
“Hold on,” I smiled, rushing towards the kitchen.
I grabbed the coyote that had been brining overnight and carried it to the fire where I hung the metal bucket over the flame. Bailey tried luring me back into the bed with a show of her skin, but the cold was too much for her to show it off for long. I laughed as I raced back to the kitchen, grabbing a couple waters, a bag of trail mix, and a couple of my ration meals.
“What is all that?” she asked as I placed it near the bed on the floor.
“We have heat, and we have nourishment,” I explained, sliding into the warm bed against her.
Her smile warmed me more than the fire.
Against her body, mine began to tingle, and I felt blood rushing to my cock. I couldn’t control the erection erupting between my legs. Bailey’s eyes lit up as I pressed against her thigh, my hard member ready for the warmth she’d promised.
Everything was so effortless, our bodies meshing together, our rhythm synchronizing
to our own special melody. I’d never felt so comfortable with a woman before, with anyone before.
We nibbled on the nuts and sipped on water while Bailey played with one of the rationed meals I’d brought over.
“How do you do this?” she asked, confusion filling her tone as she turned the package over and over.
I laughed, taking it from her hands, grabbing a bottle of water, and opening the package at the end.
She watched as I pulled out a variety of foil packages.
“Barbeque pork sandwiches, pound cake, and peaches,” I boasted.
“In there?” she wrinkled her nose.
I chuckled as I gripped the heater pack and inserted the foil packet of barbeque pork, and then then the flat box that contained two buns. Within seconds, the packet started to heat, and steam rolled from the box I’d placed it in. Bailey’s eyes were wide and curious as I pulled everything out and started preparing our meal.
“That’s amazing,” she gasped.
I spread the hot barbeque over the warmed buns, and then poured the real peaches over the pound cake I’d opened. The container included forks, salt, and even extra packets of barbeque, which I quickly divvied up.
“That’s unbelievable. Does it taste good?” she questioned, her eyes narrowing as she stared at her meal.
“Try it,” I insisted.
She picked up the sandwich, took a small bite, and then gasped in delight. I laughed at her reaction, realizing that she probably thought the ration pack would taste more like dog food than real food.
As we ate, she questioned me about my life in the military, and it was nice having someone to share my experiences with that wasn’t there. Everything I told her, she would react with amazement, concern, or astonishment. I loved watching her as I talked.
“So, the nightmares, that’s all real stuff?” she questioned.
I nodded, not anxious to get into any details. She didn’t push, and for that I was grateful. We were having an amazing time, and I didn’t want to ruin it with any horror stories or bad memories.
“After the military, I moved around a lot,” I explained, changing the topic before she had a chance to change her mind and ask for details.
“Where was the best place you lived?” she queried.
“Hawaii,” I answered quickly.
“I’ve never been. I bet it’s beautiful,” she sighed, falling back onto the pillow with a full belly.
“It is indescribable,” I smiled, taking the last bite of my pound cake.
“Why did you leave?” she pushed.
I sighed and then leaned back onto the pillow next to her. I lifted the boxes we’d eaten from. sat them on the floor next to the bed, and then snuggled my arm under her to pull her close for warmth.
“It got too busy,” I explained.
“Did you have family there?” she asked.
I nodded. “My grandpa was there before he passed, but Elijah, one of my brothers from the SEALS, moved there before I left,” I replied.
She immediately asked about Elijah, what he was like, if he was married, and why I would leave if we were so close. I found myself struggling for answers that made sense. Bailey made me question my way of living, and that made me extremely uneasy.
“The tourists were taking over, and Elijah and Taylor had their own family, their own life,” I answered.
“But wasn’t it nice to be a part of that life?” she asked.
I smiled at the thought of Bailey, Elijah’s daughter that won over my heart.
“I miss Bailey,” I sighed.
“Bailey?” she lifted her head from my chest and stared into my eyes.
“Yes, Elijah’s daughter,” I explained.
“So, that’s where that name came from,” she giggled.
“I guess, but you seemed to connect to it,” I smirked.
“I do. I think I am Bailey,” she said proudly.
I wondered if she’d had any memories yet. I found it strange that she wasn’t worried about who was looking for her, the life she had before ending up here, or remembering who she even was. Maybe she did remember, and she just didn’t want to go back or was afraid to.
“Are you going to go back?” she asked.
I contemplated her question. Initially, when I left Molokai, I planned on going back, but now I wasn’t sure. The cabin was still there and was much nicer than this one, but being here with her, it just didn’t make my decision an easy one anymore.
“I might. It depends on what happens here I guess,” I sighed, pulling her into my side.
“Here, you mean with us?” she whispered sweetly.
My heart pounded. That wasn’t what I meant, was it? With the question staring me in the face, I wasn’t sure. I just squeezed her tightly and kissed her on the top of the head instead of answering.
Chapter Fourteen
Bailey
Lying in Xander’s arms, watching the fire ripple, and listening to his stories was making me realize I may be falling in love with the man. He was after all, my savior, my hero. I was just romanticizing the situation. It couldn’t be real, could it?
I nestled my cheek against his strong, bare chest and listened to his heart beat. It was wild just moments earlier when he’d told me he was waiting to see what happened here, but now it was calm and steady. Did he mean with us?
The name ‘Bailey’ repeated in my head, over and over again. Why had I connected with that name? Was it indeed mine? As it repeated, the voice inside my head changed from my own to a man’s, but I didn’t recognize whose.
“Bailey, you make me so proud,” the voice sounded inside my head.
Hearing the voice, even without certainty of who it belonged to, saddened me. My heart ached as it swelled inside my chest. Tears were on the verge of exploding from my eyes, and my breathing became rapid and wild.
Xander’s hand brushed across my hair, his finger wiping a strand from my cheek. I didn’t dare look up into his blue eyes. I knew if I did, I would fall apart for sure.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
I nodded, but didn’t try to speak. I swallowed hard, clearing my throat, and trying my best to shake off the feeling of sadness rolling through my veins. Was that my father? Was he looking for me? Why did hearing that voice make me so sad?
Xander continued to brush my hair with his fingers as I let out a soft sigh. Whatever was out there waiting for me, looking for me, I couldn’t let go of what was right here. I hated the thought of leaving Xander. It was like a story in one of the books I’d read while here. The handsome, strong man, rescuing the damsel in distress, and them falling in love, living happily ever after. Another sigh, this time deep and long.
As much as I wanted to believe that this could never end, I knew it would. I shrugged at the thought, causing Xander to cover my shoulders with the blanket.
“I better get more logs on the fire,” he said, quickly sliding from the bed.
I watched as he worked the flame, placing a log atop, and then stepped back to admire his accomplishment.
“What are you putting in there?” I asked as he poured a plastic container of something red into the bucket over the fire.
“Barbeque sauce,” he turned and smiled.
“Barbeque coyote, that’s a first for me,” I laughed.
“That you know of,” he teased with a wink.
“True,” I giggled.
“You have to add something to take the gaminess from the meat. The brine only does so much,” he explained.
I wasn’t looking forward to eating the coyote, but I knew that was Xander’s plan. It continued to boil over the fire, for how long, I had no idea. My stomach grumbled at the thought of chewing on the dog like flesh. Ugh!
We’d been in bed all day. The sun—what we’d seen of it—was gone, and darkness was filling the windows outside the cabin. The howling winds roared through the trees, making it sound as if wild creatures were ready to stampede the door. I was a little scared after Xander was attacked by the
hungry coyote and feared there were more waiting for their turn at the meal.
“You’re not going out there tonight, are you?” I questioned, unable to hide the fear in my voice.
“We have enough wood for the night,” he smiled, reassuring me that he would remain safe.
I sighed, relieved that he wouldn’t go out there in the dark and risk being eaten.
“I do have to get out of bed though,” he chuckled, reaching for a pair of grey jogging pants folded under the night stand table.
As much as I dreaded Xander leaving the warm bed, I was ready to get out of it myself.
“I’m gonna take a bath,” I announced, pushing back the blankets and exposing my bare flesh to the cool room.
Xander’s eyes lingered on my hard nipples, the smirk on his face deliciously mischievous.
“You need help?” he offered.
I shook my head and headed towards the sink. I knew it would take a while to warm the water over the fire, so I wrapped up in a large flannel and slipped on wool socks before filling the large tub.
“Here, let me,” Xander insisted, carrying the tub towards the fire.
I sat down on the bed, watching his magnificent body as he covered it with a t-shirt. The ripples in his abs, the soft round muscles of his arms, they were all etched in my memory, something I knew I’d never forget.
“When is the coyote going to be ready?” I asked, feeling hunger pains start to poke at my belly.
“Probably not until morning,” he claimed.
I was grateful.
“I want to make dinner tonight,” I chimed in proudly.
“Can you cook?” he asked, his tone serious, but his eyes playful and teasing.
“I don’t know,” I laughed.
“Well, I’m game. No one’s cooked for me for a while,” he smiled.
“I’m in the mood for fried chicken,” I beamed, sending my stomach into a whirlwind of chaos at the thought of the salty, tender meat.
My mind paused on the memory of the taste, and suddenly flashes of a kitchen adorned with yellow wall paper and a woman in a green dress appeared. Her hair was bright red, flowing down her back in a tight braid, and her hips wiggled as she turned the pieces of chicken in an iron skillet. “Bailey, can you grab me a plate,” she said, turning to showcase beautiful green eyes with long lashes and perfectly painted red lips. Mom.
