"Didn't he tell you?"
"Said he was going out for milk…it doesn't matter. You're here."
They climbed the stairs to the second floor.
"I saw a for sale sign on a beautiful farm house with twelve acres of land. Looked like it needed a little work but…"
"A farmhouse?" Her eyebrows shot up.
"Four bedrooms…plenty of room for our family."
"Family?"
"Kids…I thought you wanted to have kids?"
He stopped on the second floor. She hugged him.
"You know I do."
"Let's practice , eh?"
He shot her a wicked grin before he pulled her into the room and closed the door.
****
Across the path, the Andrews family sat down to dessert.
"Where's Colin?" Bill asked.
Jenna shushed him.
"He won't be joining us for dessert," Grey said, a little color staining his cheeks.
Mary smiled as she looked down to the end of the table.
"Good thing I have service for twelve. Enough for all the in-laws and a couple of grandchildren, too. Hmm, that spot on the corner will be perfect for Leah."
"You always plan ahead," John said, patting her hand.
"We're complete now. Ready for the next generation, John?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"With you by my side, Mary, I'm ready for anything."
THE END
About the Author
Jean Joachim is an author, married, a mother of two boys and owner of a rescued pug named Homer. She writes contemporary romance and has more than a dozen contemporary romance books published with one more scheduled to be release within the coming months. Jean has been writing non-fiction for over twenty years and fiction for three. Her review column, "Movie Choices for Kids" has been syndicated on parenting newspapers websites for the past 12 years. A native New Yorker, she still lives in New York City.
Also by Jean C. Joachim
LOVE, LOST & FOUND
Jean Joachim and
Ben Tanner
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
"PETERSON!" Staff-Sergeant Jacobs yelled.
"Here Jacobs," Peterson replied.
"Major Davis wants to see you STAT!"
"Roger," Peterson said as he rose from his cot, threw on his utilities, donned his cover, and headed to the Major's quarters.
"Sergeant Peterson reporting as ordered sir."
"Come in Peterson." The Major shifted in his chair.
Mick walked into the tent, stood at attention, waiting to see what this was all about.
"At ease. This is an informal meeting Peterson."
"Yes sir." Mick relaxed his stance a little.
"I saw your reaction to that letter. It was a Dear John, wasn't it?"
"Yes sir." Mick dropped his gaze to the floor.
"Sergeant, you've been an exceptional member of my group since I got you reassigned to Joint Operations Special Task Force—JOSTF"
"Thank you sir, I try."
"Quit sir'ing me Mick, I said this was informal. We've been beating up bullies together since the sixth grade, pulling Jenny MacBain's hair and harassing Mr. Pratt in science class...we've both lost some good friends in the past few weeks, now this...a woman, worse than any bully we faced. After more than twelve years of all kinds of shit, you'd think we'd seen it all...all happen to other guys...now you...damn her." The Major stood up and walked to the window.
"Remember that shack in St. Thomas my grandfather left me? I'm granting you an emergency two week leave so I can send you there. Get laid...lie on the beach, get drunk...get her out of your system. Get your head straight. God knows you're no use to me or your team this way." He returned to his desk and sank down into his chair.
* * * *
On the plane in Atlanta, Mick located his seat. Seat 20-A, right next to the emergency exit. A slightly balding, muscular man, was sitting in 20-B. Upon seeing Mick, he reached out his hand in greeting.
"The name's David Wilkins."
Mick shook his hand, "Peterson, Mick Peterson."
"Military huh? Marines?"
"Yes sir, about thirteen years now."
"My dad was in the Marines in Korea and Viet Nam. I joined the reserves after high school to help pay for college."
"Small world," Mick replied. "Nice meeting you…I don't want to appear rude, but I've been in the air almost twenty-five hours…haven't gotten much sleep. I am going to try to catch up now."
"No problem, not rude at all."
In no time, the plane was in the air for the four-hour flight to St. Thomas. Mick was asleep within minutes.
* * * *
Atlanta, two hours earlier
The heat of a stare interrupted Tara's thoughts. The man standing next to her in line at airport security trained his gaze on her chest. She crossed her arms but he simply moved his eyes to her rear end.
Tara tried glaring back at him but he grinned at her, stepping closer, making her more uncomfortable.
God, I hope he's not on the same flight.
"Hi, honey, where you flyin' today?" He leaned toward her.
Tara turned her back to him.
"Don't be rude. Just makin' conversation."
"I don't know you." Tara's eyes scanned the terminal looking for a place to escape but finding none.
"I'm Mark." He took a step closer.
"Tara," she muttered.
His gaze returned to her chest.
"Stop staring at me." She folded her arms across her breasts.
"Hey, honey, if you're gonna show it, I'm gonna look at it." His ample belly rolled as he shifted his weight.
As soon as she was through security, Tara hid in the ladies room until it was time to board. Ducking her distinctive auburn hair down, she blended into the line moving onto the plane. Once on board, she snuggled into her window seat and lost herself in a romantic suspense book until she heard him.
"Lucky me! It's beautiful Tara with the big…" He started as he filled the seat next to her.
"You!"
Fortunately for Tara, Mark flirted with the stewardesses before the plane took off then fell asleep as soon as they were in the air. Tara read her book and prayed he'd sleep the whole trip. He snored a little and shifted in his seat, his head lolling dangerously close to her shoulder. She squeezed herself even closer to the wall to avoid contact with him.
When they landed in Atlanta, he awoke disoriented but still continued to flirt with the stewardesses as they helped Atlanta-bound passengers leave the plane and passengers bound for St. Thomas board. When Mark stumbled down the aisle, Tara let out a breath. She settled back into her seat, closing her eyes, resting her book in her lap—hoping some hunky guy would claim the seat next to hers.
* * * *
"Hiya, babycakes. Miss me?"
Tara looked up horrified to see Mark squeezing back into the seat next to her. She shrank back against the wall of the plane, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He smiled at her, his flat nose seemed to grow bigger, now that she sat so close to him. Stubby fingers moved toward her on the armrest.
"Don't touch me!"
"Come on, you introduced yourself to me, baby, remember?"
"So what? I might shake a dog's paw, doesn't mean I want him drooling all over me."
"Who's drooling?" He raised his eyebrows.
"It's a metaphor, stupid."
"Hey! Don't call me stupid, big…big..." His hand clenched into a fist.
"Do you want me to call the stewardess?"
"Whatcha gonna tell her, eh? That I gave you a compliment?"
"Compliment?" She shot him a dirty look.
"Yeah, you got a nice rack. What's wrong with that?" He relaxed back into his seat.
"Keep your eyes…your…everything…to yourself."
"Did I touch you?"
She shook head slowly.
"So what's your beef? Not that I wouldn't like to touch y
ou…those, uh…maybe when we get to the island paradise…you and me could…uh…hook up." He grinned.
Tara crossed her arms over her chest and avoided his stare.
"Come on, baby. Don't be such a killjoy." He placed his hand on her knee.
Tara moved her arm from her chest long enough to reach for the call button for the stewardess when Mark cut her off by grabbing her wrist.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he threatened.
Tara's face went white.
Across the aisle, Mick awoke to a woman's voice.
"Stop touching me!"
David got out of his seat and walked over. "Everything ok, ma'am?"
"Yes, everything's ok," Mark replied, "now go back to your seat before I rearrange your face."
"Sir, I'd suggest you calm down."
"Fuck you, I'll calm down," Mark said as he lunged toward David. David was quick, quicker than he looked. He sidestepped Mark, grabbed his arm, and threw him straight to the floor. Mark smacked his face on a seat on the way down.
"Guess I failed to mention I'm a U.S. Air Marshall. Now let's see who you are."
David removed the man's wallet and pulled out his driver's license. "Mark Lipsit. I guess I should call you Mark Dipshit, huh?"
He looked up at Tara and continued, "Ma'am, you ok?"
Tara replied, "Yes sir, thank you very much. He wouldn't keep his hands off me."
"Yes ma'am, I saw what happened. When we land, I'm taking dipshit here in for harassment, sexual assault, and battery. In the meantime, would you mind changing seats with me?"
Tara glanced over at Mick and a frowned creased her forehead.
Another strange man?
David noticed her hesitation. "Ma'am, he's a Marine flying on leave from Iraq. He's been in the air nearly twenty-five hours and just wants to get some rest. Besides, if he tries anything, I'm right here."
Tara smiled, her forehead became smooth again. She pushed up out of her seat, and crossed the aisle. Mick stood up to slip into the aisle so Tara could take the window seat. From under thick lashes she looked him up and down. He seems okay. Hmm, pretty tall, maybe five eleven, broad shoulders, brown hair, eyes the color of melted caramel. Not bad.
* * * *
"I'm Mick. Don't worry about me, I'm going to sleep," he said, before rolling on his side and closing his eyes.
Mick slept for fifteen minutes, but woke up again. Damn conditioning. I wanted to sleep. Now that he was awake he glanced at Tara, who was engrossed in her book, checking her out. Slim—not skinny, beautiful auburn hair…to her shoulders, perfect breasts, cute nose with a few freckles—pretty. As she turned the pages, he noticed the white mark on her finger from a ring, but no ring. Something she was reading must have struck her as funny because a grin lit up her face. Wow.
Tara glanced at him out of the corner of her eye then her gaze met his.
"Sorry, didn't mean to stare. Can't sleep. You're…uh…well…um, really pretty. Please forgive me, don't be scared, which—after what happened I'm sure you are. Go back to your book, I won't bother you." Color crept into his cheeks.
Available from Secret Cravings Publishing
Another great read from Jean Joachim
THE RENOVATED HEART
Jean Joachim
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
Kit Alexander ordered a Cosmopolitan, sat back, her heart racing in anticipation of tomorrow's departure. After twelve years of marriage, a career in banking and raising an eleven-year-old daughter, Kit was finally going to live her dream of becoming a published author.
With their daughter safely enrolled in boarding school, she could accompany her husband on a world tour as the newest band member of Blue Waters band. Tagging along as a band wife,
Kit planned to write a book about her experiences.
A tinny version of Johnny's favorite song came up. The familiar sound meant a text message arrived on her phone, causing her to put down her drink.
Are you all packed? Is Johnny there yet? Wishing you an amazing trip, Hugs, Sarah.
Kit typed in,
Yes, no. Our first three cities are Amsterdam, London and Prague. Thanks,lady. Hugs, Kit.
Sipping her Cosmo, Kit looked around La Nuit Française—a posh, intimate French restaurant decorated in turquoise, red and gold, tucked into the west side of Manhattan. Beautiful people dressed in expensive clothing pretending to be someone important filled the restaurant. In addition to paying through the nose for the good food, they were also paying to be seen. Save me from such pretention. Wearing a sexy dress in midnight blue silk, her dark cerulean blue eyes shining, her spun gold hair draping well below her shoulders in loose curls, she was the loveliest woman in the room.
A man approach her table, she smiled at her husband, Johnny, as he plopped down in the empty chair across from her. He ordered a beer plus another Cosmopolitan for Kit.
"You look great, Kit," Johnny said, taking a swig of his beer. His gaze lowered to her neckline then returned to her face.
"A fresh look for a new start…tomorrow I launch a new life. We both do." She picked up the second Cosmo and took a sip.
"We need to talk about tomorrow," Johnny said, looking down at the silverware.
"I'm ready. I've crossed off almost everything from my to-do list."
"You and that damn list. Always lists. Look, the trip…the trip is… Well. The trip is just for me, Kit."
"What do you mean?" Her brow furrowed, her eyes darkened.
"I mean, I'm not taking you with me," he replied, shifting in his seat, avoiding her stare.
"What?" she asked as her breathing became shallow, her chest tightening. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
"This is my big break. I've been playing in crummy clubs for ten years, waiting for this chance. I…I want to do it alone," Johnny said, finally able to look at her.
"Johnny, you can't be serious?"
"I am. I filed for divorce, Kit." His hands toyed with his beer glass.
"Divorce?" Tears stung the back of her eyes.
"Yeah. We never see each other. You work days, I work nights. We haven't really been a family for a long time."
"I thought we were working toward something together," she said, taking a deep breath to force tears back.
"Maybe. But I don't remember what our goal is anymore. I want to go on my own. You can stay here, watch out for Zoe."
"You're leaving me?" Disbelief clouded her eyes as she stared hard at him.
He nodded.
"Can't we talk about this?" she asked, hoping to change his mind.
"Talking means you talking me out of something. My mind's made up," he said, finishing his beer.
"But Johnny, this is my big break, too. I have an agent interested in a book deal. I quit my job, we sublet our apartment..." she couldn't finish, her mind reeled, a lump grew in her throat, choking her, cutting off her breath.
Kit took a big gulp of her second Cosmo to push down the lump as tears pricked at her eyes.
"Why would you do this…on the night before we leave?" She tried to steady her voice.
"I didn't want to hurt you, but I don't want to be married anymore," Johnny said, his stare rooted to the floor, avoiding her eyes.
"You want other women?" she asked her lip quivering as she fought for control.
"Maybe. Maybe I want to be free to do…whatever." He tapped his foot under the tiny table.
Johnny reached into his jacket's breast pocket and took out an envelope.
"Here are the papers. I'm giving you the apartment plus most of our savings. I took out ten thousand dollars for expenses on the trip."
"What?" she said, looking at him in disbelief, still unable to get her mind around what he said.
"Look, I don't want to screw you financially. You've been earning most of the money so I'm giving you the apartment. Sell the place. I'll be making good money with the band."
"I can't sell our home, it's been sublet."
"Wel
l, sell the place in a year then," he insisted.
Kit tried unsuccessfully to steady her hand as she took the envelope and tucked it away in her purse.
"You've got to sign those then send them to Mason, my attorney."
"Mason? Mason Carter? What about Jack, our attorney?"
"I left him for you."
"Why didn't you tell me this before…when…when…"
"I didn't want you to talk me out of leaving, like you always do. A done deal. I'm leaving tomorrow. You can do what you want, find what you want." He briefly looked in her eyes.
Kit tried again to blink back the tears, but couldn't.
"Does Zoe know?"
"I didn't tell her. You're better at those things than I am. I'll come see her in five months, at Christmas."
She looked at him with disbelief in her eyes. He shattered her world into a million pieces in five minutes.
"I have no job…no place to live…"
"You've got a lot of friends, bunk in with one of them. Now you can have whatever life you want, Kit. You're free."
"Am I, Johnny? Why don't I feel free?" she said, unable to stop the pain gathering in her chest, making breathing normally difficult.
"Trust me; this is better for us both. I bet you have a great new life by Christmas. And when I get back, we can hoist a few and laugh about this."
"Laugh? I doubt I'll be laughing for some time. How could you leave me flat like this?" Still refusing to believe the facts he laid before her.
"You're strong…smart. You can take care of yourself. You don't need me. You never have. In a month…maybe two, you'll agree with me," he said, finishing his beer.
Kit gulped the rest of her Cosmo, then felt sick.
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