The Honorable Warrior

by Kimberly Krey

  Sophia smiled, wishing there was a way to protect her heart, knowing there wasn’t. If Blayze didn’t feel the same way, she’d be in a world of hurt. “I’m glad you’re okay too,” she said.

  Confident, Sophia. You’ll be fine one way or another.

  Blayze toyed with a strand of her hair, causing tingles to travel over her scalp.

  “So, I’ve been wanting to say something…” he paused there, glanced at the ground for a breath, then locked his eyes back on her. Sophia’s heart had only just started to calm down, but in the stilled moment, it sped back up again.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m in love with you, Sophia.”

  She let that sink in for a moment, hesitant to swim in the bliss just yet. “Can you say that again?”

  His brow furrowed. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine—”

  “No,” she said. “I really just need to hear you say it again. Please.”

  A smile pulled at both sides of his perfect mouth, the kind that reached his eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

  She sighed. “I love you too, mi amado.”

  Blayze groaned low in his chest as he moved in for a kiss. Long, slow, and strong. “Say that again,” he pled against her lips.

  “I love you too,” she crooned.

  “Now, say the other part.”

  She moved her hands up his chest, wrapped them around the back of his neck. “Mi amado?”

  He groaned again. “Yes. Again.”

  “Te amo, mi amor.” Sophia barely got the words out before Blayze pressed his lips to hers once more.

  And as Sophia melted into the rapture of his kiss, she assured herself, once again, that the frightening event was over, once and for all. Now she was free to live life, free of fear. Looked like she might just do that with this wonderful warrior by her side.

  Epilogue

  “Welcome to the Joan & Larry Show, Ms. Vasco.”

  “Thank you,” Sophia said with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  Joan Brantly tented her fingers and leaned toward Sophia. “Now, you’ve worn a lot of hats in your young lifetime. Author of books on immigration, dedicated advisor at your local Immigration Services Center, incredible campaign guru who sings her father’s praises. Did I miss anything?”

  “Gee,” Larry Pollard said. “I don’t think that’s quite enough.” The cohost, known for offering comedic relief, scratched at his head. “Couldn’t you sort of step up your game?”

  Sophia laughed, scanning the audience members until she saw her father in the mix. He grinned wide and gave her a thumbs-up. Smiling beside him, hand slipped easily in his, sat his former campaign manager and current girlfriend, Isabella.

  “Before we get started, do you mind if I give my father a shout-out?” Sophia asked. “District Attorney, Nicolas Vasco, recently pushed through a long-awaited, much needed change in our judicial system by eliminating cash bail for low level, non-violent crimes, everyone!”

  Her father’s face gleamed as the cameras focused in on him, giving the audience, along with the folks at home, a wave and a nod.

  “That’s incredible,” Joan said.

  “Sure is,” Larry agreed.

  “Well, tell us a little something about your new book why don’t you? Let’s see, we’ve got it right here.” Joan held a hardback copy of the book facing the camera. Don’t Forget About the Loved Ones; How Not to Let Family Members of Imprisoned People Slip Through the Cracks.

  Larry spoke up next, his eyes fierce. “Now, I didn’t even realize this was such a problem, but as I researched for this segment, guys, I was blown. Away.”

  “Yes, sadly, there are several thousands of children in this country who lose a parent due to a prison sentencing. For some it’s temporary. For others it runs beyond the span of their childhood. But for all of these children it’s devastating. Our purpose in writing this was to create awareness about these individuals. Even spouses and kids left with the other parent suffer emotional trauma, severe depression, financial ruin… the list goes on.”

  “Heavens,” Joan shook her head.

  “Now, you said us,” Larry said. “Does that mean you co-wrote the book?”

  “Yes, silly,” Joan said. “That’s why there are two names on the book and two chairs beside us.”

  The live audience chuckled.

  “Tell us who you wrote the book with so we can get them out here,” Larry said with a nod.

  “The gentleman I wrote this with is my fiancée, Blayze Brockton.”

  The crowd gave out a real cheer, escalating to whistles as Blayze stepped across the studio stage. When he neared, catching her gaze before taking a seat, Blayze shot Sophia a wink.

  Her heart responded every time, that sweet thrill he gave with each gesture.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Brockton,” Joan said, shaking his hand.

  “Well, I wish I could say the same thing,” Larry joked. “But for some reason, I can’t exactly pinpoint why, I suddenly feel like sliced liver.”

  “You mean chopped liver?” Joan corrected.

  Blayze smiled, catching eyes with Sophia once more before accepting Larry’s handshake.

  “I’m kidding, everyone. I’m kidding. I know who this guy is. Decorated Navy SEAL who’s now retired and suddenly took up writing for a hobby because, why not, he’s good at that too?”

  “Well, there’s a good reason he took to writing,” Joan said, “and that’s because you two experienced a deadly incident that involved the son of a convicted felon, and the ex-wife of another convicted man. Tell us about that.”

  Sophia had told their mild, filtered version of the events several times. Sure, they had to leave out ninety percent of the tale, but the details they shared, each in turn, relayed the meat of their message: That family members already suffer enough when a loved one goes to prison. We, the people, can make a difference. Not only with votes, but with time. Becoming involved in local organizations already set up to help the cause.

  “We want to help remove the social stigma surrounding family members who’ve done nothing wrong, yet they suffer the effects on a daily basis,” Sophia said.

  “Very good,” Joan said. “Now tell us about something the two of you started doing together on Sunday afternoons.”

  “Uh, oh, this is getting a little personal…” Larry crooned.

  Sophia smiled. “After service, Blayze and I hit the flower shop, get buckets of long stem roses or carnations or whatever’s in season, and we park right out front the visiting center of nearby county jails. There, we’re able to directly impact the lives of the loved ones coming to visit their incarcerated family member.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Joan said. “So, do you see a lot of people coming in for visits?”

  Sophia nodded, picturing the faces of several she’d seen just that week. “Oh yes. We have women bringing kids in to visit their papis. Madres coming to visit their adult son or daughter, often with a grandchild on their hip. And as you can imagine, several are shedding tears as they leave. These loved ones are suffering a great hardship.”

  “And it says here,” Larry said to Blayze, “that you guys also give them a card or something. What’s that about?”

  “That’s right,” Blayze said. “We print out cards with encouraging quotes and hand them out with each flower. Then we just hope and pray that, though the gesture is small, it will impact their lives in a positive way. As my beautiful fiancée always says, sometimes acknowledging one’s hardship can make all the difference.”

  “Well said,” Joan cheered while the audience clapped.

  Blayze leaned over and planted a spontaneous kiss to Sophia’s cheek. “Babe, I love you,” he whispered.

  Sophia would never tire from hearing those words.

  “Hey, hey,” Larry teased. “You two save that for Sunday afternoons.”

  “Man, I can’t wait to get in here,” Blayze said as he and Sophia toured their newly purchased home for the third time that w
eek. “Remind me why we didn’t offer to have the 4th of July party here?”

  Sophia, looking incredible in a pair of cut-off shorts and a red tank top, strode over to the window, looking out while she spoke. A stretch of blue sky, swaying palm trees, and a sandy beach lay on the other side.

  “Because, chistoso, we’re not married yet, and we’re not living here yet, so hosting a party here wouldn’t exactly work.”

  He groaned, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms snuggly around her waist. “That’s right,” he said into the crook of her neck. “I can’t wait until you’re my wife. I mean, my esposa.”

  “Hey, mui bien. I like hearing you speak Español.”

  Heat stirred low in his belly. “Not as much as I like hearing you speak it,” he assured.

  She tipped her head back, bringing a hand up to his jaw with a sigh. “And I can’t wait until you’re mi esposo. Bride and groom at last.”

  Amen to that. August couldn’t come fast enough. “You ready to head out there?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Blayze pulled open the French doors, inhaling the first scent of salty sea air, and motioned for Sophia to go ahead of him. She did, strolling onto the covered deck with a wide grin.

  Seagulls squawked in the distance, the far-off caws carrying over the whoosh and crash of the ocean.

  “I love it out here,” Sophia said with a sigh. She shuffled out on her flip-flops and hurried over to the stairs. “You taking your shoes off?”

  Blayze tilted his head, wondering if it’d be worth the trouble.

  “Oh, come on. You can’t take a walk on the beach in those shoes.” She took the short stairwell to the sand, sunk her bare feet in, allowing the quick-shifting grains to rush over the top, covering them completely.

  “Here,” she encouraged, patting the stair. “You sit. I’ll do the honors.”

  Blayze shook his head as he lowered himself onto the stair. “The honors of removing someone’s socks and shoes?”

  She hunched down and reached for his shoe, and quickly untied the laces before prying it off. She set it beside her flip-flops and repeated the action with the next. Then, with the mischievous lift of one brow, she slipped her finger beneath the hem of his sock and looked up at him.

  “Da-na-na-na-na…” she crooned, mimicking the strip song people always used in teasing.

  Blayze couldn’t hold back the laughter as she tore off the sock with a flourish and tossed it over her shoulder. She started the tune back up again.

  “I feel like if you’re going to be humming that song, we should be taking off something besides socks.”

  Sophia tipped her head back and laughed. “We’ll save that for the honeymoon.” She flung the other sock over her shoulder next. “There. Come sink your toes into the sand.”

  Blayze took her silky hand, stepped down the wooden, patio steps until the silky-smooth sand met his feet.

  “How does it feel?” Sophia asked, her eyes wide and expectant.

  He resisted the urge to say same as yesterday and grinned. Instead, he took a moment to detect the tiny grains slipping between his toes. The change in temperature as he sunk lower into the cool depths. “Nice,” he said. “Very nice, actually.”

  “Good.”

  A soft breeze picked up as they walked along the beach. Sophia nuzzled her head against his arm. “I think my father’s going to ask Isabella to marry him soon,” she said.

  “What makes you think that?” Blayze asked.

  She shrugged. “He’s finally cleaning out my madre’s old office.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you think he wants to do with it?”

  “My hunch is that he plans to turn it into a yoga studio for Isabella. He was asking me about tranquil paint colors and houseplants. Made me picture the studio Isabella uses at her apartment.”

  Blayze considered that, recalling the day he asked Nicolas for Sophia’s hand in marriage. The man had wiped tears from his face, blaming allergies for the sudden moisture in his eyes, and responded with an exuberant, “Sí, hijo mío. Yes, my boy. Yes, indeed.”

  Blayze liked knowing the District Attorney might be ready to pop that question as well, pursuing happiness in love once more.

  “So,” Sophia said, “Jazmin texted and said Reggie’s feeling better so they can come to tomorrow’s party after all. Your father will be there with Barbara, of course. Roman and Tiff are coming. And Chanze…”

  “Chanze’s bringing his new girlfriend,” Blayze said.

  “That’s right.” Sophia nodded. “Her name’s Carly.”

  Blayze straightened up. “Wait, you know her name already?”

  “Of course. I want to make sure she feels welcome in my father’s home. This is going to be a wonderful celebration. Fireworks, music, good food.”

  That did sound nice. “Good company,” he added, nudging her with his hip.

  “That too.” She slowed then, urging Blayze to step closer to the shore. “I wish I’d brought my swimsuit today. Don’t you?”

  “Not really,” he said wryly.

  Sophia stepped into the sea foam in time for another wave to come in. It covered her feet, burying them up to her ankles. “You’re no fun.” She hunched down, cupped water in her hands and gave him a good splash.

  Blayze bent down to roll up his jeans, the lull of the whoosh growing louder. He straightened up. I’m no fun?” he said, glad they’d set their phones in the windowsill at the house. “You’re the one who wants to wait for a swimsuit to get in.”

  He rushed toward Sophia and gathered her into his arms as she laughed and squealed. “Do you still want to wait for swimsuits, or would you like to take a swim with me now?” He stepped further toward the crashing waves, his feet sinking into the wet sand.

  “Umm…” she tilted her head, those brown eyes playful. “I’m not sure yet. Keep walking and I’ll decide.”

  He took a few more steps as another wave came in, soaking the rolled parts of his jeans. “Keep going?” he asked, though she was well above the water.

  “A little more,” she crooned.

  Blayze walked further still, until the cold water penetrated his denim jeans all the way up to his waist, the weight causing them to sink lower on his hips. Sophia, safe in his arms, was mere inches from the water. If he lowered her the slightest bit, or stepped further in, she’d be soaked quick.

  “Okay, I changed my mind,” she said. “I’d like to wait and come back with a swimsuit, please.”

  His eyes widened at her. “That was sneaky.”

  She laughed. “I know…”

  “And it was also too late, mi amor, cuz you’re going under with me.” He took another step as a massive wave rushed in, holding her tight as the water threatened to pull her away.

  Amidst the splash and spray, the sound of their laughter filling the air, Sophia tossed her arms around Blayze. She hitched her legs around him too, their drenched clothing clinging together as Blayze planted his feet in place.

  Drops of water dotted Sophia’s dark lashes as she blinked. “You’re going to get it,” she threatened through a laugh.

  He chuckled too. “Am I?”

  She nodded, reaching out to smooth a hand over his face.

  “What am I going to get, exactly?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” she said lazily. “But you’re face-- it’s too handsome and it has me all distracted. So, I think I’ll just kiss you now, and think of payback later.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he mumbled, pulling her closer against him. He meant to give her a playful kiss, carry her out of the water, and head back to the house where they could lay on the deck and dry off in the sun.

  But as Sophia’s warm mouth met his in a lingering kiss, Blayze decided to savor the moment. The hint of sea salt on her silky lips. The heated touch of her velvety tongue. And the slight sound of pleasure she made when he deepened the kiss.

  Her hands moved up the back of his head just as she pulled away the slightest bit, her hot breath
mingling with his. “Te amo con todo mi corazón.”

  He pressed his mouth to hers again before returning the sentiment. “I love you with all my heart, too, Sophia.”

  “I know we have a lot to look forward to,” Sophia said, sounding breathless as she leaned back to look at him. “And that we’ll have some hard times too. But let’s promise each other to find joy together like this, enjoying these moments one day at a time.”

  As Blayze imagined living the rest of his life with the woman in his arms, he mused there was no better way to go about it. Sophia Vasco had a whole lot to offer, and Blayze didn’t want to miss a thing.

  He leaned down, cradled her face in his hands, and brought his mouth very close to her lips. “Sounds perfect.”

  He came in for another long kiss, deciding that very moment was the best place to start.

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  About the Author

  Writing Romance That’s Clean Without Losing the Steam!

  Kimberly Krey is a reader of good, clean romance, a lover of God and family, and the ultimate hater of laundry.

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