Falling for Her Soldier 3

by Ophelia London

  “She told you about the man ban?”

  Charlie nodded. “She’s got twenty-one days to go.”

  The sudden look of concern on Sam’s face took away a bit of Charlie’s relief. “No offense, buddy,” Sam said, rubbing his jaw, “and not to make you even crazier, but I think you should wait until her year is up.”

  “Why?”

  Sam sighed. “I know my sister. When you tell her the truth, she’ll react one of two ways. She’ll either hate your guts and not stop till she’s clawed your eyes out, or…”

  “Or what?” Charlie pressed when Sam didn’t finish. The sudden thought of Ellie legitimately hating him shot a chill between his shoulder blades.

  “Or.” Sam paused and wiped his brow. “She’ll attack you the other way. Frankly, dude, I don’t want to think about you and my sister and the other way. I know it’s important to her to finish out the year. Just think about it, okay?”

  Charlie didn’t need Sam to remind him how important keeping the goal was to Ellie. And if it was important to Ellie, it was important to Charlie, even if that meant he might be on the other side of the country—and who knows how many months in the future—the next time he would get to kiss her. “You make a good point,” he agreed. “Thanks.”

  After loading his paintball clothes into a trash bag bound for the Laundromat, then taking a quick shower in the locker room, Charlie headed to the Anastasia Dance Studio. He wasn’t sure if Ellie would be there this early—they hadn’t spoken since last night—but he couldn’t wait to see her. Her car wasn’t there when he pulled into the parking lot, so he turned off the ignition and leaned back on the headrest.

  Was it any wonder he’d killed a member of his own paintball team? His mind had not been on the game. Instead, he’d been reliving last night—the way she’d giggled and tossed her head, so carefree. The way she’d looked at him in the moonlight and told him he was worthy of her.

  A knot lodged in his chest whenever he thought about her; it was both a very good feeling and a not-so-little reminder that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he convinced himself he was doing the right thing.

  After he’d dropped her off, he’d gone home and sat in his dark living room, replaying every moment of those hours on the golf course. When that was securely ingrained in his brain, his mind wandered, wondering what she would look like by candlelight, lying across a bed they would share someday. He knew what she looked like after he kissed her, the glow in her mossy-green eyes, the redness of her swollen lips; he couldn’t get that particular image out of his mind. The future image would have to wait. And he could wait. They had forever, after all.

  Listen to me…it sounds like I’m ready to marry her.

  But that was crazy—he wasn’t; they barely knew each other. He shook his head. Oh, well, he had the rest of his life to get to know her.

  Dammit, there I go again.

  His phone buzzed with a text. He didn’t care about the message or the rest of the world, but he glanced at his phone anyway.

  ARE YOU COMING IN OR NOT? BUBLÉ IS WAITING.

  Charlie chuckled and looked over his shoulder to see Ellie standing outside the doorway of the studio. She must’ve walked right past him and he hadn’t even noticed. His mind…

  Trying not to look too eager, he practically leapt from his car and bounded to the door.

  “Good morning,” she said, looking exceptionally irresistible in jeans and another of those hideously sexy too-big T-shirts, no shoes, red toenail polish.

  “Good morning.” He wanted to kiss her so badly that he almost couldn’t move. “Um, sleep okay?”

  “Not particularly,” she said as they walked across the lobby. “I couldn’t seem to clear my head.”

  Charlie laughed sympathetically. “Me neither. How was the meeting with Rick?”

  “Good. Thanks again for setting that up.”

  “Don’t thank me now,” he said. “Save it for when you can thank me properly.”

  She flipped her hair and gave him the sexiest, most simmering gaze over her shoulder. “Will do, soldier.”

  When they entered the studio, classical music was playing. Maybe he’d missed her doing ballet again. Dammit, that had been something else.

  “No classes today?” he asked.

  “Nothing here at all until this afternoon,” Ellie said as she picked up her phone and plugged it in. “I’ve got two classes, but Jane said she’d take them for me. I think she’s determined to break me of my workaholic tendencies and steal the studio.”

  “Remind me to thank her later,” Charlie said, scanning her long legs. “So, I guess that means you’re free all day.”

  She lifted her eyes and smiled. “I guess so.” He smiled back and started toward her slowly. Her eyes went wide and she took a half step back. “Because, you know, there’s a lot to do today. I have to meet with Chick to talk about setting up the room…and…and…”

  Charlie stood in front of her, touched her elbow, and ran his hand down her arm, weaving their fingers together. It pleased him to hear Ellie’s breath catch from just a simple touch.

  “And, uh, I have to call about the food again…”

  “Uh-huh,” Charlie said, sweeping the hair back from her neck. He couldn’t help himself; he just needed a tiny taste of her, hair of the dog that bit him last night.

  “Yeah,” Ellie continued, “and, uh, a TV news crew will be at the WS later this afternoon…”

  Charlie rested his mouth against the skin below her ear. He heard her take in a breath, then her free hand grabbed his side.

  “We have to…” She dipped her chin, her breath soft on his neck. Charlie’s heart pounded.

  It was a pretty herculean task, but he somehow remembered his conversation with Sam and pulled his mouth away from the sweetness of her neck. She was blinking up at him, breathing fast like she’d just run a marathon.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I promised you, no more slip-ups.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” She pulled back a little smile and fingered her hair into a high ponytail. “That was a…a close call.”

  “We’ve got three days,” Charlie said, trying to focus on something besides her exposed neck. “I don’t want to look like too big a klutz out there.”

  “Right.” Ellie nodded. “To work.” She dropped her hair and stepped back. “So, I was thinking about costumes.”

  Charlie felt his posture sag.

  “Don’t look so tragic. I’m thinking…classic. You in a suit, me in a black dress.” She twisted her lips in thought. “Either something short enough so I can do the leg moves, or long with a high slit.”

  “Do I have a vote?” Charlie asked, getting hot under the collar.

  “Sorry. I’m just thinking aloud.”

  It didn’t matter either way to Charlie. The woman would obviously be beyond stunning in a tatty bathrobe. Although that particular image wasn’t helping his temperature to cool down.

  “Do you have a suit?” she asked.

  Charlie thought for a moment. He had two suits. One black and one blue. He also had his dress uniform. He wasn’t sure which would be appropriate. He figured the ball was formal, and assumed the black one was his best bet.

  “I have a suit,” he reported. “I’ll need to buy a new shirt, though.” He chuckled. “Unless I can go shirtless like Chippendales.”

  Ellie was staring at him, slack-jawed, then she blinked once, slowly. He wondered if he had that same distractedly lustful expression on his face whenever he pictured her in various stages of undress.

  “Yeah, a…a shirt would be…appropriate.” She nodded a few times. “What about the music? You seemed to respond to the Elvis.”

  “That might not be a good idea. At least not while we’re practicing.” He couldn’t help giving her body a quick up-down. She grew more beautiful every second.

  “Point taken. Bublé it is.”

  “Love that guy,” Charlie said through his teeth.

  For the next hour, he did his bes
t to keep everything as platonic as possible. It certainly helped that most of the time, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, especially when he tried to lead. Maybe they should play Elvis again. Not if they planned on getting any practicing done. Something about that rhythm while holding Ellie…he was pretty much an uncontrollable beast.

  As they improved—well, as Charlie improved—Ellie added in little movements, “flare,” she called it. Sometimes when he would close a step, she would arch her back and lean forward, forcing Charlie to balance them both. It was damn near impossible to concentrate with her pelvis pressed against him. And sometimes, she would end a step with this chin tilt, exposing her mile-long neck. More than once, Charlie forgot himself and dipped his mouth to her creamy skin. He wasn’t a monk, after all.

  But for the most part, he behaved. He’d been honest when he said he didn’t want to embarrass either of them. And he was surely going to know or recognize a lot of the people attending the fund-raiser. So when he could manage to concentrate for five minutes together, they were actually not too bad.

  But then she’d do that neck thing.

  “I can’t…” Ellie exhaled in a whisper, clutching his shoulders. “I can’t teach you how to do the progressive rocks if you keep…”

  “Progressive rocks,” Charlie couldn’t help repeating, his mouth at the curve between her neck and shoulder. “A move with a name like that begs for action.”

  He moved his hands to her hips, then splayed them across her back, easing her body forward and finally locking her in place firmly against him. A distant voice called from the back of his brain, reminding him that he shouldn’t be doing this, but when Ellie moaned and squeezed his shoulders, his mind went blank.

  She inhaled a gasp and clasped her hands behind his neck. He felt her body quiver, then she relaxed against his as he swayed them in a circle. It wasn’t exactly a tango move, maybe more like something from Dirty Dancing, but it felt right.

  He traced his fingers up her spine, then slid a hand under her hair, resting it on the back of her smooth neck. When they finally kissed, he felt the strangest sensation of coming home, like when he took that first step onto American soil after a long deployment. His heart pounded hard, pushing hot blood through his veins, while at the same time, he felt at peace with her, free, yet securely connected.

  Ellie took his face in her hands, gazed into his eyes, then kissed him slowly, taking the lead again. He ran his hands up and down her arms, across her softest skin. She kissed him again, on the mouth, on the nose, then she pulled back and pressed her forehead against his. Charlie was breathing so hard, it felt like he’d just bench-pressed an elephant. Twice.

  “Well, that move is out,” Ellie whispered matter-of-factly.

  Charlie laughed into her hair. “Ya think?”

  “The ball isn’t technically a family show, but it should be rated PG.”

  Charlie couldn’t help laughing again. “Like this?” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a warm, PG-rated hug. She rose onto her toes and hooked her chin over his shoulder, their bodies moving in breaths together, instinctively, like he’d been created to hold this woman in this exact way.

  Finally, he gave her a squeeze and dropped his arms. She blinked up at him, looking disappointed but more beautiful than ever. With his fingers, he combed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead.

  “I think I need a cold shower,” he admitted.

  Ellie giggled; her cheeks glowed with a feminine blush. “We should probably quit while we’re ahead,” she said, stepping back from him. “Aside from, ya know”—she waved a hand in the general location of where they’d been making out—“I think we’ve got it.”

  “Really?” Charlie asked, walking toward his bottle of water, wondering if he should dump it over his head.

  Ellie took a drink from her own bottle. “It’s not perfect, but we did one all the way through without a single misstep. We can always improvise the rest.”

  “I don’t know how to improvise.”

  In the middle of a swallow, Ellie gasped, choking on a laugh. “Uh, yeah, sport…ya do.” She turned around and fanned her face.

  Charlie felt burning sparks in his chest as he watched her walk away.

  Oh, boy. He was spiraling hard and fast for this woman, no other explanation. The thought was somewhat comforting. Falling in love was bound to happen to him at some point. How lucky that it was happening with Ellie Bell, the most amazing woman ever to walk God’s green earth.

  But then the icy stab of guilt was back, more severe than ever. He knew there was no way he could wait another three weeks to tell her the truth, despite what he’d promised Sam and his own concern about PCS-ing early. He didn’t want to screw things up for the ball, though, so he would tell her after that…right after that. The knot in his chest unraveled some, but it didn’t go away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ellie surveyed his refection in the wall of mirrors. Infinite Hunters. He went on forever. She wouldn’t mind going on forever with him, especially when he did that little pelvisy move. Yee-gads. She fanned her face again and drained the rest of her water.

  In the scheme of things, it was probably a little ridiculous to make them wait three weeks just so she could reach her goal. It hadn’t been a full year, but wasn’t that just a technicality? Hadn’t her point been made?

  No, Ellie. This is important. Remember, in ballet it’s all about perfect technicalities.

  If it hadn’t been for Hunter stopping them every time, reminding her of her goal, his shirt would’ve been torn off an hour ago.

  Chippendales? Seriously? She squeezed the water bottle in her fist until the plastic crackled under the stress. What is he trying to do to me by bringing up that image?

  “Want to go to the WS with me?” she asked, grabbing her duffel bag from the floor.

  “I’ll go anywhere with you.” His smile made her feel all melty. It was a struggle, but she managed to not run over, knock him to the floor, and rip that shirt off for good.

  “I don’t have much PR experience,” she added, “and I’m sure Chick has even less. He’ll probably need all the support he can get.”

  “Okay,” Hunter said, then tilted his head. “Support for what?”

  “The interview. Remember, I told you about it when you first got here.”

  He rubbed his chest. “Oh. Well, I might not have been concentrating on your words then. But I am now.”

  “Your friend Rick,” she explained, “is coming over with a camera crew from some TV station. Oh, and I met Mac at his office.”

  Hunter leaned against the mirrored wall, looking sexy-smug. “Still jealous?”

  She felt herself blush at her earlier behavior. “They kissed in front of us.”

  He laughed. “They have a tendency to do that. I told you, she’s just a friend.”

  “I also met Tess.”

  A smile spread across Hunter’s face. “Yeah?”

  “She had very nice things to say about you.”

  “I pay her well,” he said, walking over.

  “I like her.”

  “Well, I haven’t spoken to her today, but I’m sure the feeling is mutual.” He reached out and slid a hand to the back of Ellie’s neck, under her heavy hair. She was probably a little sweaty there, but she didn’t care. His touch had become so familiar, yet the way it made her body react felt new every time.

  She’d gotten used to the idea of his being a soldier, even grown more attracted to him because of it—how selfless he was in his choice of career, how brave and strong, the solidarity he had with his unit. Fear for his safety would always be an issue, but that wasn’t a reason not to love him.

  The thought of him potentially leaving so soon, however, made her want to lean into him, hold on, and never let go.

  “Rick bought a whole table,” she said, trying to think of something logical to say, while Hunter was running his thumb over the sensitive spot on her neck. “He said he was going to
invite your whole family but I told him that was too much pressure for you.”

  He laughed softly. “Thank you. It’ll be bad enough that I’m quite possibly going to make a mug of myself in front of Franklin’s elite—I don’t need my sister reminding me about it for the next fifty years.”

  Ellie slid her fingers around the curve of his arm, feeling his heat, his strength. “You’re a pretty brave guy,” she said.

  “More like a fool in love.”

  Neither of them said anything, just stared at each other. But the charged pause hanging in the air was electric. Seemed as though “the L word” was everywhere today. Ellie’s pulse was going a million miles an hour. Could Hunter feel that on her neck?

  “Anyway.” He removed his hand, combing his fingers through her hair in the process. “When did you say Rick will be at the WS?”

  “In about two hours, maybe.”

  “That’s a lot of time. Whatever should we do?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “We’re not dancing, so you can get that idea out of your head.”

  “Never in the history of mankind has a woman had to tell a man she didn’t want to tango with him when he does.”

  “You may be right.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “And unless we leave in the next five minutes, Jane might make me take the class and I’ll be stuck here.”

  “Grab your stuff.”

  Ellie couldn’t help squealing in delight as she twirled around and trotted to the piano in the corner to get her phone and purse. When she turned back, Hunter was standing there 100 percent shirtless.

  Jeez Louise. Chippendales got nothin’ on that.

  “What are you doing?” she yelped, coming out of her lusty fog.

  “Changing. It’ll just take a second.”

  “Oh.” She nodded, not quite able to pull her eyes off his bare upper body, the way his shoulders curved like stones, leading to his perfect chest, light brown hair speckling down toward his crazy-ripped six pack. She felt a little pervy staring, but didn’t care enough to stop.