Seven Days to Forever

by Ingrid Weaver

  "It will fade after a while." His voice was a soothing rumble under her ear.

  "The Vilyases thought I was brave. I wasn't. I was terrified."

  "You did well. By ramming that car, you saved Matteo's life."

  "There was nothing else I could do after they shot Sarah. They were going to kill an innocent child."

  "Yes."

  "Why? How can people do things like that?"

  He stroked her hair. "They didn't see him as a person. All they could see was their political agenda."

  "They wouldn't have surrendered."

  "No. That's why we had to shoot them."

  Red light flashed behind her eyes, an image from the nightmare. Pencil-thin beams from laser sights piercing the car windows. Explosions of glass. The air filled with hot wet splatters. Her breath hitched.

  "It's all right, Abbie," Flynn said. "It's over now."

  She remembered the sudden silence. The smell of blood and death. Limp weight pinning her in her crouch. Dead weight. Oh, God.

  "Abbie, it's over," he repeated firmly. "You're safe."

  She exhaled hard and focused on Flynn's strong heartbeat. The nightmare faded. "I wish I could forget," she said.

  He continued to run his hand over her hair. Long, calming strokes, the warmth of his touch drawing her back from the memories. "We have people who can help you deal with this. After a mission, a lot of men need support. I can call someone."

  "No, Flynn. I didn't go through the kind of trauma Matteo did. I don't need a psychiatrist. I just need…this. I need you to hold me."

  "You got it. As long as you want."

  She knew he didn't mean that. He would have to get back to the command center eventually. Until he did, though, she was going to treasure every minute.

  He'd tried to warn her. So had Sarah. His world really was too different from hers. How could she ask him to open his heart? Now that she'd experienced what he had to deal with, she understood why he would need his distance to survive. If she really loved him, she would want what was best for him, wouldn't she?

  But she wasn't some heroic commando, she was just an ordinary woman in love. She still wasn't ready to let him go. She curled her arm around his waist. "What time is it?"

  He twisted his wrist to look at his watch, then slipped the watch off and laid it on the bedside table. "Just after three."

  "Is that all? Are you sure?"

  "Seems longer, doesn't it?"

  "The past week seems like a lifetime."

  "Time takes on a different quality during a mission. Speeds up and slows down whether you want it to or not." He spread his fingers over her back. "It felt as if the chopper took years to get to you."

  "I knew you would come, Flynn."

  His chest moved as he swallowed hard. "I shouldn't have left you, Abbie. I shouldn't have let them put you in danger."

  She could feel the tension gathering in his body. His muscles quivered. He was squeezing her to him so tightly it was verging on painful. She lifted her head to look at him. "It was nobody's fault. Life doesn't always go according to plan. You've shown me that. There aren't any guarantees, even in my safe, ordinary, normal world. I could get hit by a truck when I cross the street on my way to the library next week."

  He cupped her head in his hands, his gaze suddenly fierce. "Don't say that."

  "It's true. I see now that you were right. All we can count on is the moment."

  He looked at her mouth. "When I heard you had been taken, I wasn't thinking about the moment, Abbie. I was thinking about all the moments yet to come."

  "Flynn, will you kiss me?"

  "You need to sleep. I'll hold you, that's all."

  "I can sleep tomorrow."

  "You're exhausted. You've been through hell."

  "Kiss me." She stretched on top of him and brought her face closer to his. "Then I'll be able to go to sleep."

  "Abbie…"

  "Don't you want to kiss me?"

  He tunneled his fingers into her hair. "Oh, Abbie. I want to do a lot more than that."

  She rubbed her lips over the cleft in his chin. "Please, Flynn," she whispered. "I'm afraid of what I'll see if I close my eyes now."

  He hooked his leg over hers and rolled to his side. He started with her forehead, brushing aside her hair to trail tender, featherlight kisses to her temple. He kissed the line of her jaw and the hollow at the base of her throat.

  She moved against him, trying to stir the passion that she knew he could give her, hoping that desire would shut down her brain. She reached between them and found him already hard. With the back of her fingers she traced his arousal, welcoming the answering throb that started between her legs.

  He slid further down the bed, easing himself out of her grasp. "Not like this, Abbie."

  She reached for the zipper on the front of his jumpsuit. "Please, Flynn. I want—"

  "I know what you want." He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed each of her fingers, her palm, her knuckles. He took her other hand and breathed lightly on the bandage that wrapped her wrist, then dipped his tongue in the crease of her elbow. "You've told me exactly what you want."

  "What are you talking about?"

  He pulled aside the sheet he'd wrapped her in and pressed a lingering kiss to her hip. His cheeks moved in a smile. "When I figure it out, you'll be the first to know."

  She gave up talking then. It took too much energy to form a thought. Flynn kissed the curve of her ribs and the underside of her chin. He rubbed his lips over the bruises she'd gotten when she'd been thrown from the van. He sifted his fingers through her hair as tenderly as when he'd removed the shards of glass. Then he stripped off his clothes and used the heat of his body to caress her from her toes to her neck.

  He didn't touch her breasts. He didn't kiss her mouth. He kept his hands away from her thighs, yet by the time he pulled her on top of him, she was trembling with the need to join her body to his.

  They flowed together between one breath and the next. It was gentle, amazing. Precious. He took her in his arms, shifting his hips in a slow, sure rhythm that bound her to him even while she soared. When she finally closed her eyes, she didn't see blood or death. She saw candles. Tall, thick and glowing with warmth. She held on to Flynn and basked in their heat.

  * * *

  It was almost dawn when Flynn awoke. He was spooned around Abbie's back, his arms crossed over hers, as if even in his sleep he hadn't wanted to let her go.

  He should head back to the command center soon. The mission was over. He had a duty to his team….

  But he also had a duty to Abbie. She had been so generous, giving emotional support to everyone else throughout this mission, that he couldn't imagine leaving her until he could be sure she was all right.

  He took her good hand and twined their fingers together. Who was he kidding? He couldn't imagine leaving her at all.

  The thought should have jarred him, but it didn't. He breathed in the scent of Abbie's hair as he looked around the bedroom. Her bloodstained clothes lay on the floor next to his black assault jumpsuit, her lace underwear draped over his discarded boots.

  We've had different lives, but we still want the same things. I can see it in your eyes, Flynn. I feel it in the way you hold me.

  That's what Abbie had told him the last time they'd been together on this bed. She'd told him she loved him. What did she feel when he held her now? She hadn't mentioned love at all.

  She hadn't needed to. He had seen it in her gaze and felt it in the way she clung to him even in her sleep. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of her soft, even breathing. The last time they'd been on this bed, he'd been so hot for her he hadn't wanted to waste much time sleeping. The sex had been better than anything he'd experienced before. Yet tonight he would have been content just to hold her….

  His lips quirked. Again, who was he kidding? From the moment he'd pulled her out of that car and into his arms, he'd been pulsing with the need to reaffirm her surv
ival in the most primitive way possible. But she deserved more than battlefield lust and adrenaline. She deserved her dreams.

  Something creaked in the living room. Flynn's eyes snapped open. He was instantly on full alert. He focused his senses on the shadowed doorway to the hall. There was no further sound, but a current of air stirred Abbie's hair against his chin.

  They weren't alone.

  The dead bolt he'd installed last week should have kept out a run-of-the-mill thief. Could the intruder be some leftover LLA dreg who had somehow escaped the sweep?

  He assessed his options as he eased out of bed. He had ammo, but he hadn't brought any weapons into Abbie's apartment. It made no difference—if someone tried to harm Abbie, he would kill them with his bare hands. He moved to the bedroom door and listened.

  There was a faint thud, followed by a whispered oath.

  Flynn padded silently toward the living room. In the predawn glow that filtered through the sliding glass doors to the balcony, he saw two large male figures. He knew who they were—he was well accustomed to recognizing them in the dark. He let his muscles relax and reached for the light.

  Rafe was sitting on the arm of the sofa. He had cleaned up and changed from his jumpsuit to army fatigues. "You're slipping, O'Toole. Took you almost five seconds."

  Jack stood beside the avocado plant. Like Rafe, he had donned fatigues. He squinted against the light as he brushed leaves from his green camouflage-patterned shirt. More leaves littered the carpet at his feet. "What is this thing, anyway?"

  "Abbie's intruder alarm," Flynn muttered. He went back to the bedroom, checked to make sure Abbie still slept, then grabbed his shorts and closed the bedroom door. He pulled them on and returned to the living room. "What the hell are you two doing here?"

  Rafe gave him a loose salute. "Taxi service."

  "Mother Hen ordered us to pick you up before you annoy the major again," Jack said.

  "I thought Sarah was in the hospital," Flynn said.

  "She is. She's supposed to be sedated, but these Yankees don't know her. They gave her a phone."

  "How's she doing?"

  "Her prognosis is excellent if she follows orders and takes things easy." Jack chuckled. "Which is unlikely. Do I need to look in on Abbie?"

  "She's sleeping. I want you line up a trauma counselor for her, just in case."

  "You got it." Jack glanced toward the bedroom, then looked at Flynn. "She did well. The men all admire her courage."

  "So do I."

  "Ironic, isn't it?" Jack said. "She saved the Vilyas boy three times. Twice by messing up the drop, the third time by bad driving."

  Flynn wasn't sure he'd ever reach the point where he could laugh about it. The memory of what might have happened would haunt him to his last day. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Rafe. "Any more news on the LLA?"

  "Plenty. Some of the documents we found at the LLA base that were in Ladavian turned out to be future plans. Names, places, dates. The Royal Guard is already moving in to round up the cells in Ladavia."

  "That's more than we'd hoped," Flynn said.

  "Yeah." Rafe gave him a long look. "Funny what we can find when we aren't even looking, isn't it? Have you thought about it yet?"

  "About what?"

  "The mission's over." Rafe pointed to the apartment door. A flowered tapestry-patterned suitcase rested on the floor beside the closet. "We packed up Abbie's stuff for her."

  "She'll appreciate that."

  "We had to pack yours, too," Jack said. "The warehouse is cleared out. The transport's loading to take us back to Bragg."

  Flynn had known this was coming. The men would have started disassembling the command center the moment Matteo had been delivered to his parents. The tent, the folding cots, chairs and tables, the weapons and electronic equipment, everything that had comprised their home for the past week would be packed up and loaded into the vehicles that had brought them here. Nothing would remain in the warehouse to mark their presence except some footprints on the floor.

  The mission was over. He should be on his way to Bragg with his team, analyzing the details of this mission and anticipating the challenge of the next. It was what he did. It was the only life he knew.

  Or it had been, until Abbie had come into it. Flynn walked past Rafe to pick up the phone.

  "What are you doing?" Jack asked. "We don't have much time."

  "I'm not going with you. I'm calling the major." He punched in the number of Redinger's cell phone. "I need to request an emergency leave so I don't go down as AWOL."

  Jack moved quickly to press his finger over the disconnect. "Don't do it, son."

  "Keep out of this, Jack."

  "Your duty here is done. Abbie's going to be fine. She doesn't need you anymore."

  Flynn knocked Jack's hand away from the phone. "Maybe not. But I need her."

  Jack stared at him. "You're serious."

  "Damn right. I need that woman. I—"

  And suddenly it all became perfectly clear. He had the answer to the question that had been circling his mind for days. He smiled.

  "I don't like the look of that smile," Jack muttered.

  "Yeah, I'd say he thought about it, all right," Rafe said.

  Flynn dialed the major's number again. When he heard Redinger's voice, he squared his shoulders, prepared for a fight.

  But someone had beat him to it. He listened, stunned, as the major confirmed a short leave had already been approved. He was told to report to Fort Bragg in three days time.

  Rafe was grinning as Flynn hung up the phone. "The captain's been busy."

  Flynn felt off balance, as if he'd just thrown all his weight against a door to break it down only to find it was already open.

  "The three-day leave was Sarah's idea," Rafe continued. "Lately she's been getting into that touchy-feely stuff, said you and Abbie deserve some more time alone. Jack, can you give him anything for those hives?"

  "Last chance, O'Toole," Jack said. "You can still come with us."

  Flynn took a pace back.

  Jack muttered another oath and reached into his pocket for his wallet. He counted out five twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Rafe. "Looks like you win, Marek."

  Rafe chuckled as he folded the money. "I had an advantage. Ever since I found Glenna, I can recognize the signs." He stood up, reached behind the sofa and tossed a duffel bag toward Flynn. "Well, since you're staying, you're going to need this."

  Flynn caught it and looked at the name on the top. It was his own.

  "Your helmet's in the closet by the door," Rafe said. "I left your bike in the visitors' lot. Your keys are in the duffel bag."

  Jack was still muttering as he walked to the door. "I thought it was a sure bet."

  "It was," Rafe said. "You just chose the wrong side." He punched Flynn's shoulder as he went past. "Good luck, buddy. We'll see you at Bragg."

  Flynn locked the door behind them and stared at the bag in his hand. Rafe had known all along that Flynn would want to stay. More than that, he'd suckered Jack into betting against him. Flynn wondered if Abbie's family was anything like his family, the members of Eagle Squadron. Probably. And oddly enough he was looking forward to meeting them. Shaking his head, he turned toward the bedroom.

  Abbie stood in the bedroom doorway, her eyes puffy. Pink sleep wrinkles pressed into her cheek from the pillow. Her hair was a tangled mass of curls. She clutched her robe closed at her throat and looked around. "Flynn? I thought I heard voices."

  How could he have thought she wasn't his type? He'd never seen a woman look more beautiful.

  He put his bag beside her suitcase and walked toward her. "You did. Rafe and Jack were here to drop off our things. They're on their way back to the base."

  "The warehouse?"

  "No. It's been cleaned out. They're going home."

  "Oh. But why are you still here?"

  He stopped when his toes nudged hers. There were so many things he could say. Too many unformed explana
tions whirled in his head. It wasn't easy to change the habits of a lifetime, but right now—this moment—was where it would start.

  So he gave her the simple answer. "I'm here because I love you, Abbie."

  She blinked. The hand that held her robe closed trembled.

  "I love you," he repeated. "Damn, I've never said that to anyone before, but do you know something? It gets easier the more I say it."

  Abbie let go of her robe and touched her fingertips lightly to his face. She must be dreaming. Walking in her sleep and fantasizing.

  But he was real. His jaw prickled with the start of his morning beard stubble. His dimples deepened beneath her thumb. He was no fantasy. Somehow the man she loved was standing in front of her and saying…

  "Say it again," she whispered.

  He laughed. "I love you, Miss Abigail Locke."

  She smiled.

  "That's the one." He lifted her up so her face was level with his. He looked at her mouth. "I sure hope your smile means what it did yesterday."

  "Yesterday, today and tomorrow. It won't change, Flynn." She wrapped her legs around his waist. "I'll always love you."

  He kissed her nose. "How about the day after tomorrow?"

  "Yes."

  He kissed her chin. "And the day after that?"

  "Yes, yes!"

  "Good, because I only have three days before I have to be back at Bragg. Do you think we can get married by then?"

  She looped her arms behind his neck as her head started to spin. "Married?"

  "I thought that's what you wanted."

  "It's so sudden. We've only known each other for a week."

  He swung her to the side and nipped her earlobe. "What's the use of waiting around once you've made your choice?"

  "Flynn, are you sure?"

  "Yes. I want to stay."

  There was something about the way he said those words that made her pause. She grabbed his head in her hands so that she could look at him.

  He was no longer smiling. There were no barriers between what he kept in his heart and what showed on his face. And what she saw made her catch her breath. It was pain mixed with courage. Caution tangled with hope. Longing. Certainty.