by Hart, Taylor
She let out a light laugh. This was ridiculous. “Why can’t I?”
“Because I’m not Antonio.”
“Well, genius, that’s who I was thinking about. There.” She threw her hands into the air. “Are you satisfied? You got it out of me.”
“What?” He looked shocked.
“I was thinking about how my ex-boyfriend and I—” She said it sarcastically. “—had never talked about how he would propose.”
“Oh.” His tone was soft and a bit remorseful.
“If we had, do you think it would have gone down like that? With him insulting my painting and not even getting down on one knee?”
That brought out a huge smile on Blaine’s face.
Elena was still stuck on the shutting down business. “We didn’t talk about stuff like that.” Not knowing why it troubled her, she took a pan and turned to the sink, starting the water, plugging it, adding dish soap. She’d just focus on this.
She sensed him approaching before he wrapped her in his arms from behind, pressing her back against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to get to know you better.”
Already melting, she turned to face him. “You did?”
Blaine stared at her with those blue eyes that felt like they could go on forever. “I do.”
It struck her as funny that he was saying “I do” right after the proposal conversation. She giggled like a teenager.
Grinning at her, he shook his head. “You’re crazy, woman.”
She tried to push him away. “Don’t make me giggle. I want to be mad at you.”
“No you don’t.” He kissed her.
“I seriously never giggle. I never even giggled as a teenager,” she said, giggling through the words.
His expression turned doubtful.
“I didn’t.” She pushed him ineffectually, until his lips settled back on hers. The kiss was soft, slow.
After the kiss, he searched her face. “I want to know everything about you.” Lightly, he touched her nose. “I want to see your baby pictures too.”
She scrunched her face up, thinking of the albums in Boston. “I wasn’t the cutest baby.”
He let out a laugh. “I’m serious. I know what’s his bucket and you—”
“You just don’t want to say his name, Mr. I Notice Everything.”
“I don’t think we need to say his name ever again, do you?”
She smiled and put her hands on his cheeks, loving all things about Blaine Hammerton. “Blaine,” she said as she trailed kisses down his jawline, mimicking what he’d done to her earlier.
He held her tighter, kissing her. “I love you, Elena,” he whispered into her ear. He tilted his head to meet her gaze, but kept her against him. “I do. I love you, Elena Gates.”
Her heart felt like it was going to burst, and her mouth went dry as tears filled her eyes. “I love you, too.”
A grin swept over his face. “You do?”
With a laugh, she realized it was true. It felt remarkable. “Yeah.”
The kiss that followed was unlike any she’d had. It was as if he was trying to prove to her that he really did love her, his hands twisting in her hair, his body pressed to hers.
Out of nowhere, pain slashed through her heart, and she pushed him back with both hands. “But you’re leaving.” The words tumbled out.
Blaine loosened his hold on her, his face going serious.
Elena inhaled sharply. Until this moment, she hadn’t really thought about what it would mean for her to love him. To have him leave her. “You’re going to get shot at?”
He let out a breath and let his hands drop. “This is why I don’t have many girlfriends to tell you about.”
Her mind flashed to someone else in Blaine’s arms, kissing Blaine, touching his Herculean face. Jealously flared, and she scowled. “But you did have some girlfriends?”
He let out a puff of air and took her hand. “Nothing like this.” Drawing her closer, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Nothing like you, Juliet.”
Elana hummed in contentment, basking in his warmth.
Gently, he kissed her before pulling back. “I should call you Jules for short.”
She laughed. “Hmm, not sure about that.”
“I want you to know that my commitment to the military is up in three months.”
“What?” Well, that was good news, right? Her mind was whirling. She hadn’t really thought about what this was. Until today, she hadn’t even really thought this might be something more than whatever it had been? “Okay,” she said tentatively.
“I’m not sure what I’ll do after, but I’ll be done.”
Even though this felt fast, she’d never felt more certain about anything. Taking one of his hands into both of hers, she pulled it into her chest and stared into his stunning blue Hercules eyes. “Then you’ll come back to me, right? Get me coffee, read me Shakespeare, and cook for me.”
Relief washed over his face, and he pulled her into a hug. “How did you know that’s exactly what I want to do?”
Chapter 13
Blaine marveled at the way the rest of the week’s pattern turned into anything except a SEAL kind of pattern. He usually woke between eight and ten to the sound of the jukebox. He would contentedly go be the coffee boy, watch her paint, read on the lawn chair. Elena would go into the gallery for a few hours, and he’d find himself consumed with making her the best dinners he’d ever made; he’d taken to looking up different marinades online. She’d convinced him that his appreciation of art was weak, so he’d spent one of the days being dragged from gallery to gallery. He’d insisted she really didn’t know baseball enough to hate it, so they’d taken in an amateur baseball game at Yankee Stadium one afternoon. She took that opportunity to negotiate and get him to eat another hot dog. They’d gotten into the habit of long walks after dinner where they would talk and talk and talk about everything and nothing. And he’d even forced her to spend a day having an Avengers marathon, because she just had to understand why Marvel superheroes were better than DC.
He found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with her. Wanting her. Needing her. As they hit day nine, he thought about how he only had five more days. Or really, four, counting the travel day.
After finishing a dinner of chicken dumpling soup, she asked him, “Can we talk about those letters? Because you kinda shut down about him too.” She said it quietly.
He sighed, not wanting to deal with the real reason he’d come to New York, but this woman would make him. “You don’t give up, woman, do you?”
She pressed her lips softly to his. “I want to know everything about you too.”
And with that, he was lost. “Fine.” He went and dug out the letters, and she met him in the living room.
He sat and stared at the pile of letters. He judged there were roughly six or seven, and yes, the letter on top was addressed to him.
His mouth was dry. Dang it, how could his father still do this to him, even from the grave?
He couldn’t bring himself to touch them—especially not the one on top. He wondered what he would have done with them if Elena weren’t here.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Elena sat next to him, easily scooting into him.
He loved the way it was with her. So easy. He put his arm around her, smelling her coconut fragrance. He’d never had what they had before, and he loved it.
Elena nuzzled into his neck. “Do you want to know what I was thinking a couple of days ago when I was out on the deck painting while you were making dinner?”
“That you wanted to touch my face.”
She grinned. “Close, but no.”
He pulled her closer, turning to get into better kissing position. “Well, I’m always thinking about kissing you, woman.”
She gripped his face with both of her hands, pulling him to her.
Their lips met, sending fire rushing through him. The intensity of loving this woman grew every day. He pulled back. “What were
you thinking?”
“You’re going to think I’m silly.”
“You mean I’m going to think you’re a silly, giggly teenager that never does this.”
She giggled. “I never used to giggle,” she protested as he tickled her.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “What were you thinking?”
She shrugged. “See? We’re crack addicts. That just proves it.”
Stupefied, he frowned at her. “Crack addicts?”
“Don’t worry. It’s both of us.”
“I’m missing something.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips. “You are.” Softly, she took her thumb and rubbed it on his bottom lip, probably thinking of how she would sculpt it if she had a setup in her apartment.
“Focus, Gates. How are we crack addicts?”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “It’s stupid, but …” She rushed through the next words, just getting them out. “They need hits, ya know? To survive.”
Understanding washed through him. Pulling her closer, he started kissing her ears and followed a line down to her lips. “You mean like that? Like that’s a line.” He put his hand on his head, acting upset. “I just did a whole line. Man, what am I gonna do?” Then his eyes widened. “Wait, there are more drugs right here, so I’ll just do more.” Crazily devouring her with kisses, he started on one side of her face and moved across, pausing every so often. “Oh man, it just makes me want more.”
Shrieks and giggles erupted from her.
He laughed too. He did not giggle, but he loved this. He loved her. He pulled back, watching her gain her composure.
Her curls were all tangled and messy. Yes, so beautiful. Her green eyes were pools of shimmering … He should be Shakespeare. Look at him, writing a dang sonnet.
“What?” she asked, steadying her breathing after all that laughter.
“I love you,” he said, pulling her into his side and holding her close. This was it for him. She was it.
“I believe you mean it every time you say it.” She looked mystified.
He grinned and kissed her hand. “I do.”
“I love you too.”
“I know.”
The moment turned slow and soft. Blaine never wanted it to end.
She pulled back and gestured to the pile of letters. “Are you going to read them or burn them?”
“Am I so transparent?”
“No,” she said softly, not moving from his side. “As I’ve mentioned, I call you ‘soldier’ because sometimes you’re not transparent at all.”
Silence reigned. Both of them simply stared at the pile.
Finally, he sat up. Letting her go, he tugged out a pocketknife and ripped the twine keeping the letters together. He pulled the first one off, the one not in an envelope but with his name on it, and flung it open.
His father’s handwriting. “‘Dear Son.’” He meant to read the letter quickly, get it over with, but something about seeing his father’s handwriting and hearing himself say the word “son” out loud made his voice break. He cursed and wanted to drop the letter.
“Just read it to yourself,” Elena said encouragingly, putting a gentle hand on his back.
So that’s what he did.
It’s Christmas day, and I’m sitting in the apartment, wishing I would have said different things than I said to you. I wanted to, but when I started talking to you on the phone last night, nothing came out right. So here’s what I wanted to say.
I’m sorry for all those years ago when your mother died and you needed me, and I, well, I was broken. Looking back, I should have held you and been there for you, but something inside of me died with her, son.
And I distinctly remember that day I struck you. I’ve lived with the memory of your wide, innocent eyes staring back at me with horror. I wanted you here so I could tell you all of this and really face up to you like a man. But you are not here, and I have failed again.
I had to write this letter to you and beg forgiveness for not being the father I should have been. I’m hoping I can mend things with you in the future, but I got that feeling. The one every good soldier gets. The same one I’m sure you get. When you know something’s coming, but you’re not quite sure if you’re gonna get through it. You hope so, God willing, but down deep you can feel it in your bones.
I thought my soldiering days were over. But I got the feeling right now. So I’ll leave the key with Brooks just in case.
The rest are letters your mother wrote me when we were young and newly married. A couple that got me through the toughest moments of losing her. They describe how we fell in love.
I should have shared them with you a long time ago.
Know that just because I failed you as a father, it does not mean I am not proud of you as a man and father.
I could not be prouder of you and of your service to our great nation. Your mama would be so proud too.
I love you. I wish I could have said that to you.
Love—
Your father
Captain John Hammerton
U.S. Air Force, ret.
Blaine dropped the letter and felt hot and cold, the same thing from earlier with the same shortness of breath. But unlike before, this time, he held onto Elena.
Chapter 14
When the letter fell and Elena saw Blaine’s shoulder’s shaking, she held him for a long time. Then, Elena knew exactly what they needed. Dashing off the couch, she ran to the kitchen, leapt onto the counter, and went straight for the good stuff.
“What the—?” Blaine called after her.
Extracting a box of the best chocolates in the world, she jumped off the counter and back over the couch. “You need this.”
At least her antics had the affect of halting his breakdown. Staring at her with a crazed expression on his face and tears in his eyes, he shook his head, unbelieving. “You brought me chocolate when I’m clearly having a Full Metal Jacket breakdown right here?” His words sounded angry, but his lips were turning up.
She stood on the couch, holding the chocolates out before wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. Normally, he was almost six inches taller than her, so being able to hold him from this angle was amazing.
He tensed briefly at her touch, then relaxed with a light laugh. “Leave it to the woman who subsists on coffee, popcorn, and chocolate to have a secret stash.”
Elena popped a chocolate into her mouth, then held one to his lips. “Eat it,” she said through a full mouth.
Only slightly miffed, he opened his mouth and let her drop the chocolate into it.
She chewed, not paying that close of attention to her own satisfaction. Watching him like a hawk, she saw his face abruptly sour, and he looked like he would spit it out.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stunned by his expression.
He held his stony expression for just long enough for her to get uncomfortable, then grinned cheekily. “Pretty good.” He chewed it.
She smacked his shoulder, relieved that he seemed to be doing better.
Blaine brought her hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. “Thank you.”
“I have to get a hit,” she said teasingly, leaning in to softly kiss his lips.
Wrapping his arms around her, he brought her closer, whispering through the kiss, “I always need a hit of you.”
The box of chocolates she was holding was crushed, and all the chocolates pattered to the floor. She was so lost in the moment that she didn’t even notice. The past nine days had left her knowing only one thing: she would be forever lost with Blaine Hammerton.
Pulling back, Blaine smiled at her. “Want to go through them with me?”
She blinked and got down from the couch. “I would like that.”
So they spent the next two hours curled up on the couch together reading the letters from his mom. Elena was touched at the young love shared on the weathered pages. They’d only been married a month when he’d had to go on assignment.
She thought about how she would have to let Blaine go soon, and she didn’t know how she would handle being without him.
Blaine seemed content while they read the letters together. Not overly interested, but not upset or angry either. Just content to be with her. That’s how she felt too.
Afterward, they snuggled together. She rested her head on his shoulder, and his arm was around her. With his other hand, he slowly traced circles on her palm with his thumb.
Being here with this man felt so amazing to her.
They were quiet, and so many thoughts wound themselves through her. One played on painful repeat: he would leave soon. It was stupid to think how much that already hurt her, stupid to think how much she would miss him. She’d only known him nine days.
“Did you read the part about how my parents got married?” Blaine asked softly.
Pulling her head off of his shoulder, Elena faced him, sensing something about what he was asking and feeling. “The part about eloping?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “That’s kinda cool.”
“I had no idea about that,” he admitted.
“Really?”
He shrugged. “Nope.”
Her heart thumped loudly inside her chest, and she felt an underlying tension.
He squeezed her hand. “What if—?”
Precipitously, his phone let out a loud, blaring ring that sent Elena shooting a foot in the air.
Blaine tugged the phone out of his pocket and let out a sigh. “Sorry, I gotta get this.”
There shouldn’t have been such a gaping hole left in his place, but it felt that way. For the past nine days, they’d been in their own little bubble. She realized that no one had called him. At all. She’d gone into the gallery and tried to find investors and she and Marissa had texted back and forth, but because Blaine was leaving, she’d put off all unnecessary issues. How would it feel to have him on the other side of the world instead of the other side of the room?
Once again, Elena reflected on the fact she hadn’t known Blaine very long, but it felt like he had always been part of her.
