Falling for Her Soldier: A Perfect Kisses Novel (Entangled Bliss)

by London, Ophelia

“I went to college, of course. Didn’t you?” She pulled at the neck of her shirt, feeling a little warm as a waft of his aftershave hit her.

  “Yes,” he said, brushing past her again as he walked some books to the end of the table. “But I didn’t finish. I enlisted instead.”

  “Did you always want to be in the Army?” she asked, genuinely interested in his answer. She’d often wondered what made people choose a military path, knowing how dangerous it could be but doing it anyway. Was it patriotism? Money for college? That obviously wasn’t Hunter’s reason, since he was still Army.

  “I never considered it until I was twenty,” he said. “It was supposed to be just four years in and out, then finish college. Turns out it’s a good fit for me. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  Ellie nodded slowly, feeling a little bit awed…and then feeling a little bit something else when Hunter reached over his head for the top shelf and she caught sight of his tanned washboard abs.

  “Um, I know what you mean,” she said, jerking her gaze in the other direction before she started drooling. “I went to college but I haven’t really used my degree.”

  “What did you graduate in?”

  “Child psychology.”

  Hunter leaned against the table and smiled. “So that’s why you’re drawn to the patrons of the WS.”

  “Exactly.” She laughed. “No one quite as childish as a soldier.”

  “I hear ya.”

  “I’m kidding, of course. I don’t know how you guys do it. I hear stories from Sam…” She cut off, her hands automatically balling into fists of anxiety. “I can’t think about it. I can’t imagine.”

  Hunter put down the book he was about to reshelve. “Then don’t think about it,” he said in a low voice. “That’s my job.”

  A little glow lit beneath her skin and spread through her chest as his eyes locked on hers. Then she recalled what she’d told Jane last night, how she didn’t think she could get involved with a soldier, the sleepless nights, the blinding worry. But as she gazed at Hunter, she wondered if maybe…knowing people like him were out there, there wasn’t the need to worry as much.

  “What you do is amazing.” She spoke around the lump in her throat. “Seriously, you don’t get thanked enough.” Her thoughts suddenly flew to her brother, and to the people hanging out at the Warrior Station, and to all the other brave men and women who defended their country every day.

  Without thinking, she went to Hunter, reached out, and took his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his. “From me. Thank you, with all my heart.”

  His hand felt warm pressed against hers, more calloused than she was used to, but gentle. She squeezed it, feeling his strength as he squeezed back.

  “Damn.” The word was an exhale.

  “What?” She blinked up at him, getting an extra-close look at those golden rings around his blue eyes.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then pulled back a slow smile. “That should see me through my next deployment.”

  Ellie felt an inner glow again, pushing against her heart, making it a little more difficult to breathe. She pictured Hunter in uniform, all brave and sexy. For some reason, the image in her mind expanded and she pictured Sam standing next to him. Brothers in arms. When the image widened more, there was another soldier there, faceless.

  She inhaled a gasp and stepped back, dropping his hand.

  “Everything okay?” Hunter asked, his voice as gentle as his touch had been.

  “Sure.” She nodded manically, trying to blink the image of Charlie out of her mind. Guilt swirled in her stomach, stomping out that happy glow like a campfire. How could she say to herself that she was interested in Charlie and then fondle another soldier’s hand?

  “So, child psychology,” Hunter said, going back to work at reshelving. “Now that’s where the real danger is.”

  “I take it you’re not dying to be a daddy.”

  “Hardly,” he answered. “Not that I’m anti-kid,” he amended quickly. “I’m just not all that”—he paused to shrug—“comfortable around them. They smell fear. Like dogs and sharks.”

  Dang. He’s funny, too. No wonder he can have any woman he wants.

  Luckily, that little reminder rang some pretty loud warning bells in her head. “No nieces or nephews, I take it?” she asked.

  “My sister’s married.” When Ellie looked at him, Hunter was smiling and staring to the side. “She’s due in a month.”

  “That’s exciting.”

  “I don’t know what kind of uncle I’ll make,” he said, a wistful smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  Ellie could picture it: Hunter tossing a squealing boy up in the air, those powerful arms catching him easily. Or Hunter down on the floor playing airplane with a curly-haired little girl.

  She snapped herself out of it. Imagining Hunter as a human being and not as a predator was no good for her state of mind. He was afraid of children yet he enlisted in the Army? The guy was complicated, that’s for sure. He would probably freak out when he discovered what she did for a living…that she spent hours at a time surrounded by tiny humans.

  What would a tough soldier like Hunter do in a setting like that? The thought was kind of hilarious. Yep, he would definitely freak. Ellie would love to see that.

  “I’m sure you’ll catch on,” she said, straightening a stack of books on the table.

  “Let’s hope so.” Hunter was peering down at the spine of a book. “And except for your mother’s sister’s family in California, the one you spent that summer with, no young cousins for you, right? And no nieces or nephews till Sammy gets busy.”

  Ellie lowered the book she was holding. “How do you know I lived with my aunt in California?”

  Hunter met her gaze, but didn’t answer.

  …

  It had been in an e-mail, the whole story about how she’d been obsessed with learning to surf after watching some movie, so much that her mother shipped her out to Santa Cruz to live with her aunt the summer between freshman and sophomore years of high school.

  My five cousins were all pros at it, she’d written. Even the ones who could barely lift a longboard. Hard as I tried, I truly, truly sucked. I spent the first two months of the summer getting very proficient at paddling back after wiping out. Then, halfway through August, it clicked. I remember catching a wave everyone else let pass. It was like my feet were glued to the board and I finally understood how to balance and shift. I can’t explain…it felt like flying.

  That first wave, I only made it halfway to shore because I was laughing so hard I started crying. I wanted to stay in California forever, but I’d put some pretty major things on hold that summer, so I had to go home. But to this day, it was the most carefree and magical time of my life. I haven’t been surfing again, but since then, I’ve had a secret dream of living somewhere tropical and picking it up. It would certainly beat the Indiana winters. Maybe someday that dream will come true.

  Charlie could see it perfectly: the grown-up Ellie splashing in the surf. She wasn’t just some fantasy woman with sunny smiles and a surfboard. Not anymore.

  “Hunter?” Her voice cut into his daydream. “How do you know?”

  “Oh, I… Sam,” he said, looking down, concentrating on the stack of books before him. “Sammy told me about your family once. We were on this all-night watch detail. No big deal.” He kept his back to her, hoping she wouldn’t see through his mistake.

  It wasn’t exactly a lie. Maybe Sam had mentioned their aunt. Charlie knew for sure Ellie had in more than just that one e-mail. Another time, it was Aunt Kathy’s birthday and Ellie was sending her one of those edible bouquets. She’d asked him what kind of cookies she should order. Good old-fashioned chocolate chip was his favorite. Charlie couldn’t help wondering what she’d eventually decided on.

  He wished he could just ask her, get the whole thing out there. He opened his mouth to do just that, but closed it again, knowing he had to
clear it with Sam first. He owed that to his friend.

  “So, you said you don’t use your degree,” Charlie said. “You don’t teach child psychology?”

  “No.” She didn’t look suspicious anymore, but he definitely wanted to get back on her good side. Build a friendship. Nice and slow. That had been Jack’s advice—as pointless as it seemed at the moment.

  Ellie was tugging at the neck of her T-shirt, revealing a fair amount of skin and just a peek of white lace. Charlie tried not to stare. Was it any wonder he’d lost his train of thought and said that about her aunt? He could barely concentrate with her looking all relaxed and chill in that oversize, ridiculously sexy USO shirt that kept sliding off one shoulder. He’d rather she be in one of those tacky miniskirts. He was immune to women in those things.

  “I wondered, because yesterday Sam mentioned you were a teacher,” Charlie said, trying not to check out her bare shoulder.

  “Oh.” Her face softened and she stopped fiddling with her shirt. A moment later, her lips pulled back into a smile. Damn, he needed to get her to smile more often. “Yes, I’m a teacher, but not at a regular school.”

  “Are you trying to confuse me?”

  That smile again, but there was something else behind it now. She was nibbling her bottom lip, looking pensive and a little…sinister?

  “We’re almost done here,” she said after a moment, “and I have to head to work for a while. If you’re not busy, would you like to see what I teach?”

  Charlie lifted his eyebrows. “Go with you to work?”

  She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh. “If you want.”

  What was up with this woman? Instead of him learning more, she was becoming more and more of a mystery. Charlie racked his brain. Had she mentioned what she did for a living in her e-mails? No. He had no idea. But he was beyond intrigued.

  “I won’t be in the way?” he asked. “I can just…watch?”

  “Of course,” she said brightly, then she snickered.

  Charlie couldn’t help tilting his head and eyeing her, feeling like he was stepping into the mother of all bear traps. “What exactly do you teach?” He wasn’t sure why he bothered to ask. If she said she worked in a meatpacking plant and was in charge of cleaning up rancid guts, he would have happily tagged along.

  “Children’s ballet,” she answered.

  Charlie felt the melodramatic desire to clutch his stomach. Maybe he preferred the rancid guts. “Oh.” He nodded, hoping he was pokerfaced. “Cool.”

  Ellie burst out laughing. “Yeah, I can tell, you’re completely thrilled.” She fingered her hair into a ponytail, then let it go so it spilled over her shoulders, as she laughed all the while. “You don’t have to come. It was just an idea. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Only an idiot would pass up an invitation from this woman—and he was no idiot. “Oh, I’m coming all right. Can’t wait.”

  “We’ve only got S through Z left,” she said, gesturing at the table. “We’ll go after that. Or as you military types would say, sierra through zulu.”

  Charlie grinned at her, impressed. “You know the phonetic alphabet?”

  “Oh sure.” She waved a hand. “Couldn’t help learning that with Sam around. Let’s see, how does it start? A is…”

  “Alpha,” he prompted.

  “B is bravo,” Ellie added. “C is…” She cut herself off, her happy expression going blank for a split second.

  Charlie stared at her, feeling a charge in the air between them. Now is the time, he thought. The perfect, natural segue to bring it up. We’re both thinking the name…just tell her.

  “C,” he said after a swallow, “is Charlie.” He paused, letting the word hang in the air, gauging Ellie’s reaction. Something definitely flickered across her face, but a moment later it was gone.

  “Then delta, echo, foxtrot, golf,” she rattled off. “But we’d better get back to sierra.” She tossed a book at him. “Race you to zulu.”

  The moment was gone, and Charlie had blown it.

  They worked in relative silence for the next few minutes, as if they were both eager to move to the next step. Charlie realized he’d been having a great time just hanging out. He was surprised how easy it was to talk to her in a purely platonic manner. Even though, when they’d first entered that sunny room alone, his natural instinct was to slide his arms around Ellie, satisfying his pent-up curiosity. Was she as huggable as he imagined?

  He wasn’t about to try that, though. That was something the old Hunter would’ve done, taken her by surprise then let the chips fall where they may. Following that impulse with Ellie was probably a bad idea. But what about how she’d looked at him when she’d thanked him for his military service and held his hand? Her tenderness had stunned him so much he could hardly breathe. It didn’t help that every time she smiled or tugged at her T-shirt, the natural instinct to touch her flared up again.

  Sam would probably shoot him in the kneecaps if he knew what Charlie was thinking.

  Not long later, they both waved good-bye to Chick and said they’d be back in a few hours. Charlie’s car was in one of the first parking spots, since he’d arrived at the WS so early that morning.

  Ellie slowed when they reached the black Impala. “Yours?”

  “Yeah,” he said, unable to stop from smiling. “This is my baby. My pride and joy.”

  She tilted her head. “Aw. Men and their cars. Oldest love story in the book.” She walked its length, running a finger over the trunk. “I don’t recognize the make. What is it?”

  Charlie was about to answer but hesitated, his brain halting the words. Had he mentioned his car to Ellie in the e-mails? He couldn’t remember. It was a restored classic. He was in Sam’s unit. She wasn’t a ditz; she would piece it together.

  He took a beat before answering. “It’s a Chevy Impala.”

  Ellie seemed to be mulling over this information while Charlie held his breath, preparing to see the look in her eyes when it clicked.

  “Never heard of it,” she said with a shrug. “Pretty, though. Did you name it? A lot of guys name their cars.”

  “No,” he said, his muscles unclenching. “I always thought that was kind of douchey.”

  Ellie leaned against the bumper, her red hair falling over one eye. Hell, she could give those World War II pinup models a run for their money.

  “Hop in,” he said. “We’re going to the same place. I’ll drive.”

  She was biting her lip. This was obviously some kind of tell for when she was pondering something. A few moments later, her face cleared. “I’ll drive myself. Meet you there.”

  Charlie frowned. “Why?”

  “Just…” She was backing up toward the parking lot, like she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. “It’s on Park and Henderson. You can follow me.”

  Before Charlie could say another word, she was gone. The woman was a mystery, all right. A mystery he enjoyed unraveling.

  She was pulling from her parking space before Charlie had started the engine. The last thing he wanted was to lose her, so he raced out of the lot, keeping a close tail on the back of her white car with the “It’s a ballet thing—you wouldn’t get the pointe” bumper sticker.

  Charlie didn’t get the point, but he was pretty sure the extra e on the end was an inside joke. He made a mental note to ask her about it.

  She pulled into a lot outside the Anastasia Dance Studio. Charlie parked in the space next to her. “I wasn’t too fast for you?” She grinned over her shoulder as she strolled to the front door.

  “No one’s too fast for me, baby,” he replied automatically, then mentally slapped the back of his stupid skull. Why did his tendencies lean toward tragically lame come-on lines around this woman? Like she was making him nervous, throwing off his game.

  Or maybe he had no game with Ellie.

  She grabbed the door handle and turned back. “That,” she said, giving him a playful glare, “was too cliché…even for you.”r />
  Charlie blew out a deep exhale, laughing under his breath. “It’ll never happen again.”

  “Good,” she said, then she shot him a flirty wink, again surprising the hell out of him.

  As they stepped inside, Charlie was further taken aback. He didn’t know what he’d expected when he thought about going to a ballet studio. Maybe a bunch of guys wearing tights and speaking Russian or people doing splits in the middle of the lobby. Besides that twisted Natalie Portman movie, he had no frame of reference.

  Except for the hot pink paint job on the walls, it looked like the front lobby of any other gym. There were three flat screens, one showing a fish tank and the others showing different angles of what he assumed to be where people did the dancing. In the corner sat a rack of black T-shirts that had the same Anastasia Dance Studio logo as the one painted on the wall. The lobby was lined with folding chairs and had a long white reception desk.

  “Hey girl.” A woman with a long, dark ponytail waved to Ellie from behind the desk and stood when they approached. “So, this is Hunter,” she said, sizing him up.

  Charlie turned to Ellie. “Huh. You told her about me,” he stated, not bothering to hide his smile.

  She was glaring at the other woman, but then became preoccupied by her phone. “No, I just told her I was, ya know, bringing you along in case she needed help with anything. Apparently we’ve gotten kind of busy with the fittings. This is Jane. She helps run the Stacy Studio.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Charlie said, then looked at Ellie. “Who’s Stacy?”

  Ellie didn’t answer, but the dark ponytail did. “Stacy ran the school before,” she explained. “And it’s very nice to meet you, Hunter.” The way she gawked at him made Charlie feel unnerved, like a piece of meat in a window.

  “Jane,” Ellie snapped. “Ease up. He’s never been to a ballet studio. Don’t scare him.”

  “First time, eh?” Jane walked around the desk and straight up to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

  Charlie looked to Ellie for a little help, but Ellie just rolled her eyes. “Take care of him,” she said to Jane. “I have to go change.”

  He wanted to follow her, but Jane suddenly had ahold of his arm. “Hey,” she said, “I know you’re all hot and everything, but don’t play her.”