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

by London, Ophelia

  “Yours,” Hunter said, handing her a plate piled high.

  “Thank you.” She sat at the table and watched Hunter as he drizzled syrup over his waffles, pulling an overly skeptical face. Then she watched the loaded fork move to his sexy mouth.

  After one bite, his eyes brightened. “Mmm.”

  “Right?” she said, cutting off her own piece. “Way better than anything from a bottle.”

  “I’ll say.” He took another bite, chewing slowly, smiling across the table at her.

  Small talk accompanied their meal. Ellie was still trying to put together what she was going to say. Would he care if she couldn’t officially date for another twenty-two days? Or do any of the things that accompanied dating—even though she’d already kind of shattered that rule. Would he refuse to date her because Sam told him she was off limits? Would he flip out that—until a few days ago—she was hung up on Staff Sergeant Charlie Johansson? And lastly…did he know how soon he would be PCS-ing to another post?

  After dinner, Hunter washed and Ellie dried. While they’d been eating, his phone rang five different times until he finally silenced the ringer. He didn’t take any of the calls, barely consulted the caller ID.

  “How long have you been teaching ballet?” he asked as he rinsed a glass.

  “I took my first assistant job a few months after my injury,” she said. “I was still doing physical therapy, but my doctor said I could handle a beginner’s class.” She shrugged. “I kind of fell in love with it.”

  “Did you start that young? As young as the kids you teach?”

  “Younger. I took my first baby steps on that floor. First dance steps, too.”

  He shut off the water and turned to her. “That’s where you took lessons? And now it’s where you teach?”

  Ellie stared down into the bubbly sink, her body feeling unexpectedly weary. “It was my mother’s studio.”

  “Anastasia?” Hunter asked after a beat.

  “Stacy…that was her name. She’d always planned on me taking over when I finished college, but I never wanted to run a business. I got a job with a dance company instead, so I kept working. Then, you know”—she displayed her knee—“so that ended.” When she shifted her weight, she felt her needy knee give just a little—not the happy, nervous wobble Hunter made her feel, but a haunting reminder of the past.

  Noticing the infinitesimal teeter, Hunter’s hand shot out to steady her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Mom and I ran the studio together. Then Jane came on full time after she died.”

  “Ellie.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze, maybe detecting the blueness of her mood. “I’m so sorry.”

  She swallowed, forcing down all those old feelings of sadness. “I guess I got a little obsessive about the studio after that,” she said. “Jane calls me a workaholic. I think maybe she’s right. These last few days have been good for me, forcing me out of the studio, out of my head.”

  When Hunter gave her arm another squeeze, her chest felt even heavier. Not just from missing her mother or thinking about her knee, but Hunter being near made everything kind of slow down and come together, like the close step of the tango.

  “Ya know, I think that might be why saving the WS is so important to me,” she added.

  Hunter removed his hand. “What do you mean?”

  “I can relate to them—the injured service members…in a way. I understand what they need, what they’re going through. Some wounds heal quickly; some take a lot longer. My knee, for example.” She bent it once then straightened it. “I was out for almost a year, but the emotional injury…I don’t think that’s completely healed. I lost my career. It was a life-changing crisis.” She blinked, her eyelids feeling dry and gummy. “A bunch of physical therapy does nothing to fix how resentful I can still feel about what happened. I needed someone to talk to about it back then; I probably still do.” After she said the words out loud, she knew how true they were. “The WS,” she continued, “it’s like a safe zone for those people who need the groups and the counseling. So, yeah, I understand how important it is because I know what it’s like to feel…I don’t know…haunted. Of course PTSD is a whole other level, but I can empathize.”

  Hunter was staring at her, not even blinking. It looked like he was the one who was haunted. “Ellie,” he said, rubbing his palm over his chest like he was soothing an ache. “What you said…your words—”

  They both flinched when Hunter’s cell on the counter vibrated with a new call. “You’re certainly popular.” Ellie pointed her chin toward his phone.

  “Whoever it is can wait,” he said, not moving his eyes from her. “We’re talking.”

  “What if it’s important?”

  His hand ran up her arm, leaving a trail of tingles. “It’s not as important as this.”

  She swallowed and felt the desire to snuggle into his chest, to ease whatever it was that had momentarily clouded his mood. Surely that would lift a few of her clouds, as well. He squeezed her shoulder, reminding her of other benefits of snuggling; further reminding her of the real conversation they hadn’t had.

  “Um…you mentioned a duck pond,” she said, trying to clear her head. “Is it close by?”

  He nodded, still watching her with those gorgeous blue eyes. “My place backs up to a golf course,” he said, sliding his hand from her shoulder down to her hand. “Take a walk?”

  …

  It was a short walk to the golf course, just on the other side of the parking lot. The driving range was lit up like Times Square, but the rest of the course was dim and deserted, brightened by only a few floodlights.

  By suggesting the walk, Charlie knew he was stalling. What could he say? He was selfish. He didn’t want it to end. Not that it would be the end immediately—they still had the fund-raiser in a few days. They’d worked hard; he would not bail on that. Besides, he was finally starting to understand what went on at the WS.

  What Ellie said about emotional injuries and healing…she’d hit the nail right on the head. He also couldn’t help thinking about Chick’s offer to talk about what happened on his last mission. After the debriefing three months ago, Charlie had never spoken about it, not to another soul. He was staff sergeant in charge of the unit. Even if the mission had rattled him more than he admitted, he couldn’t say that to his men. He had to be a strong leader, show no fear. But maybe that was taking a toll.

  Among other things, the past was weighing on him more than ever.

  If he knew any of the soldiers in his unit were suffering from emotional wounds, he would advise them to talk it out with someone at the WS—no excuses. Saving that place was becoming just as important to him as it was to Ellie.

  “Is it okay that we’re here after the course is closed?” she asked in a quiet voice, like she thought they were sneaking onto private property. “There’s no one else around.”

  “It’s okay,” Charlie said, taking her arm as they strolled. “I know the groundskeeper.”

  He didn’t know the groundskeeper, and he had no idea if they would get bounced if anyone caught them walking across the greens. But back at his apartment, Ellie had seemed restless, like she needed to get out. There was a duck pond at the course, but it was a long walk, all the way past the fifth hole. There was probably a shortcut that only the groundskeeper knew. Maybe he should make friends with him. Charlie played the course enough, usually every day during his leave.

  He suddenly realized he hadn’t played golf for four days, not since meeting…

  “Can I ask you something?” Ellie said as they crossed the fairway.

  “Sure,” Charlie said, wondering when exactly the woman beside him had slid so deeply into his heart.

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  His heart whacked against his ribcage, back and forth like a pinball, but he couldn’t think of a response.

  “Is that a weird question?” she tacked on.

  “No. I just have to think about it.”

  She n
odded slowly, waiting, chewing on her bottom lip.

  Before answering, he thought about his past relationships—such as they were—and all the women he’d dated. Had he loved any of them? Had he cherished a woman? Treasured her? Done everything in his power to make her happy?

  “No,” he admitted, feeling deflated. “Have you?”

  She didn’t speak right away, either. Maybe she, too, had to consider her answer. “I think so.”

  Charlie didn’t like that. “How recently?” he couldn’t help asking, wondering if she would bring up the e-mails. Had she been in love with online Charlie? Despite how much he’d wanted that to be true at one time, he did not want it to be true now. If Ellie Bell were falling for anyone, he wanted it to be the here-and-now “Hunter.”

  Her eyes grew wide for a second: deer in the headlights, as if anxious about what she was going to say next. “A year ago,” she replied. “Well, eleven months and one week ago.”

  Charlie tilted his head. “That’s pretty specific.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Did I mention the pond will be a thirty-minute walk at our pace?”

  She laughed and he could tell she was relaxing again. “Okay. Well, I had this boyfriend. Drew was his name.”

  Charlie hated Drew.

  “It didn’t end very happily, as is common with breakups, obviously, but we weren’t happy before that.” She paused to take a breath. “He wasn’t the first, though. It was kind of a pattern.”

  “What kind of pattern?”

  “Drew wasn’t…nice to me.”

  The hair on the back of Charlie’s neck stood at attention. “What does that mean? Not nice?”

  “It was my fault, too.” Her voice sounded dreary but resolute. “I have to take some of the blame.”

  “Ellie.” He moved in front of her and gripped her by the shoulders. “Whatever this guy did to you, it was not your fault.” He wanted to tear this Drew guy’s limbs off one by one.

  “What?” She gaped at him, confusion in her eyes. “No, I meant he cheated on me.”

  Charlie blinked. “Oh.” Not only did he hate the guy, but this Drew ass-hat was obviously the biggest moron on the planet for cheating on the perfect woman.

  “Yeah,” she continued, staring straight ahead into the darkness. “When I say pattern, I mean I have a tendency of being drawn to the wrong guys, like the wrong guys. They’re either players or cheaters or liars. Usually all three.”

  “Liars,” Charlie repeated under his breath, a knot rolling in his stomach.

  “Yeah.” She chuckled sarcastically. “Pretty awesome, right? I sure know how to pick ’em.” She tucked some hair behind an ear. “I needed to see if I could break the pattern, but that meant making some major changes and one pretty big goal.”

  A memory from one of her e-mails jumped to the front of Charlie’s mind.

  Ellie’s goal.

  She’d mentioned it—not what it was specifically, only that it was very important and would mean a lot to her mother.

  “What kind of goal? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said. “You need to know about it, anyway.” It was too dark to tell if she was smiling at him or smirking. “I decided to go one year without dating. No men. Zilch.”

  That’s major, all right.

  Charlie did some mental math. “Didn’t you say it’s been eleven months and some change?” She nodded. “So earlier at the studio was just…”

  She pulled back the cutest guilty smile he’d ever seen, lightening his heavy heart. “A slip-up?”

  He laughed out loud. “I take all the blame for that. You should consider your streak intact.”

  “What a gentleman.” She bumped his shoulder.

  “So, you haven’t dated for almost a year,” he recapped. “And your year is up in…”

  “Twenty-two days,” she said, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. Charlie tried not to stare at her kissable mouth, but his instant recall spread the taste of her to the middle of his tongue.

  “Okay.” He slid his hands into his back pockets. “It’s not ideal, but doable.”

  Ellie stopped walking. Even in the near dark, he could see her expression twist in shock, then brighten. “Really? You don’t mind if we…” She broke off and looked down. “I mean, well, I’m obviously not going to assume you want—”

  “Ellie.” He touched a finger to her lips. “You’re not assuming anything.” He could have said more, a whole hell of a lot more, but the softness of her lips veered his train of thought. “If it were allowed, I would show you just how much you’re not assuming.”

  “You might already be gone in three weeks,” she pointed out.

  “I know. But that won’t stop me from finding some way to be in the same room with you on the day your year is up.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m pretty creative when motivated.”

  When Ellie Bell smiled, the loveliest blush crept up her creamy skin. Charlie had to actually brace himself not to lean in and cover that skin with kisses. After another bashful smile, she lowered her eyes and pressed the side of her face to his shoulder.

  She was so soft and warm, it drove him crazy when she was near like this. He put an arm around her, easing her in so she could rest her head against his chest. So soft. For a moment, they just stood in the middle of the eighth fairway. He felt the rhythm of her breathing in and out, their bodies rising together.

  How a woman so incredible managed to stay single for a solid year… he thought with utter amazement. She must’ve been beating them off with a stick. Ellie adjusted her position against him, causing his desire to stir, but also reminding him that she was still three weeks short.

  Three weeks…

  It was like a bag of bricks hit him over the head. Charlie wasn’t sure what cosmic god of love was smiling down at him, but he suddenly felt like he’d been given an enormous gift, one he was very undeserving of…

  If Ellie couldn’t date for another three weeks, maybe he didn’t have to tell her the whole truth tonight. He had time to break it to her, time to just hang out and laugh and get to know her even better in the time before he might have to PCS early. If that was the worst case scenario, he would gladly take it.

  He tried to ignore the cramp of guilt he felt while considering not coming clean right that instant. It was cowardly of him, but he couldn’t risk it. She’d asked him if he’d ever been in love, and he’d answered honestly. But if she’d also asked what woman he cared about most in the world, the one he thought about, wanted to talk to, kiss, and just be around…he would have said, unequivocally, that woman was her.

  Every day he spent with her, every minute, his feelings grew stronger and stronger, like a runaway train. It actually made that damn tango worth it. And she’d picked an Elvis song. Dammit, he really might be falling in love.

  “Is everything okay now?” he asked.

  “Everything’s perfect.” She lifted her cheek off his chest, tipped her chin, and grinned. “Well, not perfect, obviously.”

  Charlie gazed down at her and growled. “Twenty-two days?”

  She nodded, still smiling all dreamily up at him. He instantly dropped the arm that was around her. “Then you better stay over there,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and moving her a good three feet away.

  As he retreated, she frowned. “All the way over here?”

  “Woman, you have no idea how irresistible you look standing in the middle of my golf course in the dark. And what do you think you’re doing wearing an outfit like that?” He waved a hand in her general direction.

  She glanced down at her clothes. “It’s just a baggy T-shirt and jeans.”

  Charlie clasped a hand over his forehead. “Exactly. You have no idea how sexy you are.”

  She twirled a strand of red hair around a finger. “Yeah?”

  “Eleanor…” Charlie warned while struggling to muzzle his desire. “Do not force me to break your streak. I’m not as gentlemanly as you t
hink.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ellie had never felt sexier in her own skin than when Hunter looked at her that way. It didn’t feel like he was some womanizing hound dog about to eat her alive, but like he appreciated what he was seeing. It thrilled her beyond any compliment she’d ever received.

  It was also a huge turn-on.

  Was it possible to fall for someone in four days? She didn’t know, but it felt like that was exactly where she was headed. The chemistry was there—good golly, was it there. And they definitely had a lot in common. But did she know enough about him to be in love? Which reminded her of another subject she’d been meaning to get to.

  “Can I bring up something we kind of brushed over?”

  “Okay,” Hunter said, strolling beside her as they crossed the golf course, his hands in his pockets.

  “You said you’ve been in your apartment for a few years, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you want to buy a house? In the future, sometime? Is that something you think about? And I mean, how far in the future? Wow.” She paused and made a face. “That came out all wrong.”

  “Take a breath, Ellie,” he said, a smile in his voice. “What are you trying to ask me?”

  “You’re military, like, forever, yes?”

  He gave her a long look, maybe trying to read more into her question. “Yes,” he answered. “I don’t know when I’m PCS-ing again, or where I’ll be going, but I do know I’ll be in the Army for as long as they’ll have me. It’s what I have to do. It’s what I love.”

  She nodded, absorbing this information. She liked what he’d said, even liked the way he’d said it. He was devoted. Loyal. Not a terribly unattractive quality in a man.

  “Was that what you wanted to know?” he added.

  She shrugged, wanting to know a lot more but not knowing how to ask.

  “To answer your other question, yes, I’ve thought about buying a house. There are some good VA loans out there. But, I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his head. “Being deployed for months at a time, and being single, it hasn’t felt worth it.” He chuckled softly at whatever he was thinking. “I guess the Army allows me a certain freedom in that way. Unencumbered.” His eyes moved from her, cloudiness shrouding them like earlier tonight. “But things changed for me a few months ago. Something happened.”