by Vonnie Davis
“Yes.” What was Owen doing here? Had he been helping out at the ranch, too?
“This is a very special guest.” Dustin smiled broadly and patted his heart. A dark-haired woman with eyes like his patted her heart in return. “My mom, Linda Franks, who’s exhausted from a spur-of-the-moment flight here.”
Linda dabbed her eyes. “I’m so happy to see my son again.” She shot an admonishing look at him. “It’s been a long time, but we’ll talk about that later.” She winked at Dustin. “I’m thrilled to meet the woman who’s captured his heart and helped him heal.” Her bright smile warmed Kelcee.
Dustin kept moving around the people at the table, giving her little time to wonder why his mother was here. “ZQ, JJ, Clint, and Fran. You’ll remember Jesse, who took care of you after you were run over.”
“I’ll always remember his kindness.” Was this her birthday and she’d forgotten?
“Mark, Nina, and my buddy Dusty in his SEAL cap. Gina, my physical therapist, who could certainly help you with therapy once the cast comes off.”
Gina was a slender blonde with chocolate eyes and a warm smile. “So, you’re the woman who’s been beating up on Dustin? How nice to meet you. Thanks for all the hard work you’ve put into his recovery.
“He can be a bit of a grouch. You do know that.” She winked and laughed. Kelcee liked her personality right away.
Pitchers of sangria sat on the table. Little Dusty had his own small pitcher of grape juice with orange and lemon slices floating in it. Platters of food were brought in and they ate family style. The conversation was easy and the laughter loud. Dustin seemed at ease, although Kelcee caught the corners of his mouth tensing a time or two.
Dustin asked the waitress to hold off on bringing in the dessert. He stood and the room grew quiet. “Everyone, I have a few things to say. All of you have helped my adjustment from hospital life to normal life. I’m grateful.” He rubbed his hand across her shoulder.
“I’ve decided once I get some minor surgical treatment done, I’m taking my medical discharge from the Navy.” He looked at Kelcee. “Close your mouth, love, I know it’s a shock. It’s something we should have talked about, but the thought of leaving you was too much for me to handle. I need you in my life. Not just in letters or on Skype or a few months a year, but every day.”
ZQ coughed.
“Well, unless I’m doing work for ZQ.” He winked at her and she understood what that meant. He was joining Black Eagle Ops. “I’m thinking of opening a small, one-man architectural firm here in Warrior Falls.” Heads nodded in agreement.
This was all too much to understand, to wrap her mind around at once. “You…you’re not going back to Coronado?”
“No.” He slipped a small box from his pants pocket and dropped to one knee. “Kelcee, I love you. I’ve loved you since my first day here in town when I ran into your jasmine wall of attitude.” He flipped the box open to reveal a round diamond flanked by channel-set dark blue sapphires, the color of his eyes. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me? Of having my children. Of growing old with me?”
Now the setup made sense. The private room, everyone they knew, the rose at her seat, and his mother. He’d planned this well. He’d created a memorable event for his proposal. She placed her hand on his cheek and he turned into it, kissing her palm. Tears of happiness flooded her eyes. She did love this man, her protector, her survivor. “Yes! Oh yes, I’ll marry you!”
Dustin took the ring from the box, kissed it, and placed it on her finger. He stood and pulled her out of her chair. “I’ve got witnesses, Kitten.” He waved an open hand to include the entire room. “You’re mine and we’re getting married.” Cheers and clapping accompanied his kiss of pure possession. Damned if her garter belt didn’t ping against him again.
Once the kiss finally ended, he turned her toward the group as she frantically tried to cover her errant garter. His arms went around her waist, drawing her back to the solid wall of his chest. His hand brushed hers away and covered what she was trying to hide. “Friends, SEAL brothers, I present to you the future Mrs. Dustin Sloan Franks.”
“We need a date,” ZQ demanded. Trust the commander to always try to run the show.
Kelcee couldn’t take her eyes off the ring and kept fingering it. Dustin leaned and whispered in her ear. “The blue sapphires are my eyes always watching out for you, protecting you.” She nodded. What a beautiful sentiment.
“A date?” ZQ pushed further.
“New Yearth Eve,” little Dusty chimed in. “On accounta…on accounta I alwayth get to thtay up late on New Yearth Eve.”
What a perfect idea. Starting a new year out as this man’s wife. “I like what Dusty said. He can be our ring bearer.”
“New Year’s Eve! Well, land sakes, we can’t plan a wedding in three months.” Fran jerked toward Clint for his opinion.
“Our girl can have whatever she wants, Sugar Loaf. You, Junebug, and the bride will get your heads together, make calls back and forth to Linda, and plan something beautiful. Won’t they, Owen?”
Owen shook his head once. “And the honeymoon cruise is on me, if the groom can handle bein’ on water.” He threw his head back and laughed.
Kelcee pivoted in Dustin’s arms. “If we don’t soon get out of here, this gang will have our whole wedding planned.”
“I will love you forever, Kitten,” and she joined in so they spoke their private oath together, “until my final heartbeat and the one after that.”
To all the men and women of our Armed Forces, who give their youth, their souls, and sometimes their lives in the service of our country so we can enjoy all the freedoms they protect. Thank you.
While my grandson is suffering his private battles with PTSD, I felt I needed a broader spectrum of knowledge, not only for the effects of this disease, but also for the brotherhood of SEALs. Reading the following books proved invaluable:
American Sniper by Chris Kyle with Jim DeFelice and Scott McEwen: William Morrow: An Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers
Fields of Combat: Understanding PTSD among Veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan by Erin P. Finley: ILR Press: An Imprint of Cornell University Press
Service: A Navy SEAL at War by Marcus Luttrell with James D. Hornfischer: Back Bay Books: Little, Brown and Company
BY VONNIE DAVIS
Black Eagle Ops
Her Survivor
Hers to Heal (coming soon)
Highlander’s Beloved
A Highlander’s Obsession
A Highlander’s Passion
Bearing It All
PHOTO: MIKE SHUBERT
VONNIE DAVIS, who studied English at Penn State, likens herself to a croissant: crusty, wrinkled, flaky—and best served with strong coffee. After a career as a technical writer, she’s spending her retirement playing fairy godmother to her characters, giving them their happily-ever-afters. Six fantastic, talented kids call her “Grandma” and brighten her world in so many ways. She lives in southern Virginia with her husband, author Calvin Davis.
vonniedavis.com
Facebook.com/WritingStoriesOfTheHeart
@VonnieWrites
The Editor’s Corner
Looking for the next romance that’ll give you the feels? Our fantastic selection of books will definitely satisfy.
You’ve never read bedtime stories like the sensual forbidden fairy tales in Sharon Lynn Fisher’s Loveswept debut, Before She Wakes. And speaking of debuts, don’t miss New York Times bestselling author Kelly Elliott’s Searching for Harmony—a gut-wrenching story of a love that transcends all odds. Vonnie Davis’s Her Survivor welcomes readers to Wounded Warrior Falls where beating the odds is what it’s all about, while Bound Beneath His Pain kicks off a deeply sensual new series from Club Sin author Stacey Kennedy.
Diana Quincy continues her Rebellious Brides series with a tale of forbidden love between a socialite and a scholar in A License to Wed. Wedding bells are ringing—and tempers are flaring—as Marquita Valentine’s Take the Fall seri
es continues in the sweet and sexy Hard to Fall. The Brothers of Mayhem MC ride again in Carla Swafford’s explosive novel, Full Heat. Ashley Suzanne follows up Raven with the next round in her scorching Fight or Flight series, Cutter. The third book in Beth Yarnall’s Recovered Innocence series, Reclaim, is brimming with angst and sensuality. And don’t miss the next book in Stacey Lynn’s deeply emotional Fireside series, His to Protect. Or the story of a war hero fighting to remember the love he left behind in Serena Bell’s emotionally charged To Have and to Hold.
Then Shawntelle Madison’s seductive Surrender to You follows two career-oriented friends with benefits. And finally we have a cold case that leads to blazing-hot temptation in Kathy Clark’s romantic suspense Almost Forever.
Until next time ~Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from
Hers to Heal
A Black Eagle Ops Novel
Vonnie Davis
Available from Loveswept
Reece Browning hated everything.
He hated that he was no longer a SEAL in Team 5, that he only had one arm, and that he’d mentally changed into a person he barely recognized. He hated wearing a prosthetic arm, which was why he kept throwing it away. And he positively hated how his physical therapist kept carrying the damned arm back in, cleaning it up, and standing over him like a mouthy Marine drill sergeant until Reece reattached it.
What he really detested was that she was a former Marine—a willowy, blonde, brown-eyed, opinionated, ballsy ex-Marine by the name of Gina Wilson. Who, right at this moment, had her powerful hands on his bare ass, giving his wounded muscles and resulting scars one hellacious massage.
Okay, so maybe he didn’t hate this part so much.
“This should take care of some of the pain in your sciatic nerve. Once I’m through, I’ll put an ice pack on it. Keep it there for twenty minutes.”
He grunted in response.
“A word of warning: If I come here tomorrow and you’re not wearing that arm, I’m going to shove it up your ass, Reece.”
Refusing to give her anything more to harp about, he merely grunted again and stared at the green wall of his room. Early in the mornings, in the soft sunlight, the green reminded him of a stalk of celery in a strong, spicy Bloody Mary, his late mother’s favorite drink. Wasn’t it strange as hell how his mind now worked? His mom’s dying words as pancreatic cancer consumed her were, “God, I could use a Bloody Mary.” He hoped they had an open bar in heaven. She’d be drunk as hell if she could see him now.
“Either that or I’m going to program your arm so the fingers clamp onto your penis if you try to remove the prosthesis before nine at night.”
Once more, Gina’s continual yapping invaded thoughts of losing his mother. Tomorrow would be two years since she’d gotten her angel wings.
“It’s been you and me every day for three weeks, and I’ve had to do all the talking. Three weeks of listening to myself breaking the silence. I gotta tell ya, you have a very limited vocabulary….a male grunt, ‘no,’ and ‘hell no.’ Oh, and let’s not forget your favorite, ‘fuck you.’ You know, just to see if you’d verbally react, I’d say you have a nice ass,” her fingertips lightly caressed his flesh, instantly making him harder than the barrel of an M-4 Carbine, “but then you’re all ass.”
She was goading him. And, hell, he hated being goaded.
“Now I know why your SEAL brothers nicknamed you Steelhead. Damned if you aren’t the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”
He smiled into the white sheet on the king-sized bed.
“Guess what my nickname was in the Corps?” She slapped his ass and his eyes popped open. “Just guess!”
Motor Mouth? Lip Smacker? Talk-n-Plenty?
She began making small circles on his butt cheeks with her thumbs for a deep tissue massage. God, he did not like this part at all. Her first few rotations forced him to suck air and tense his legs.
“Can’t think of an answer?” She leaned over so her breasts pressed against his T-shirt. “Thumbs of Bitchin’ Steel. TOBS, for short,” she whispered in his ear and then straightened to press harder with her steely thumbs.
Kee-ryst! No fake.
When his former commander Zane Quinlan, known simply as ZQ, started talking to Reece about coming to Eagle Ridge Ranch to heal in peace and quiet, away from the noise and nonsense of the world’s fast pace, he’d eventually acquiesced. He hadn’t counted on Gina…Motor Mouth…Bitchin’ whatever. He sneered into the bed. He loved this ranch. Her, not so much. No matter how physically attracted he was to her. And wasn’t that a bitch?
Part of his decision to come to the hill country of Texas rested on former team members staying on or near ZQ’s twenty-two-thousand-acre ranch and the camaraderie they still shared. That, and his love of horses.
Dust, their team’s sniper, was living in Warrior Falls, a small town nearby, with his new wife, Kelcee. Dustin Franks had lost part of his leg in Raqqa, Syria.
JJ had been the team’s demolitions expert, assistant corpsman, and dog handler. Now that Jerryl Jacoby was a civilian, he’d been able to adopt the team’s German shepherd, Ordnance—or Nance, for short. JJ and Nance were both living and working on the ranch.
The team’s beloved service dog had her ear shot off as they’d fought their way through Al-Hasakah in Eastern Syria. That’s where Reece had lost his arm above the elbow in one hellacious explosion that pushed the ground away from his boots before it snapped back and bit him in the ass. As he crumpled to the ground, dazed and disoriented by the bomb, radical forces had dashed out of the buildings like armed roaches and taken him prisoner.
For three days, he’d been beaten and tortured damn near to death for information. He’d kept quiet. A SEAL lived to protect his team, his mission, and his country. Every scream, every shudder of pain he’d internalized into a shatterproof reinforcement of the oath he’d taken after BUD/S.
No matter how many times he’d been slashed with knives, whipped with chains, or electrocuted, he hadn’t talked. He’d survived waterboarding in gasping, panicked silence, convinced death was only a waterlogged heartbeat away. His sheer willpower had won against those bastards.
For Nance’s ear, for Dust’s leg, for his arm and the fine line he now walked between sanity and insanity, and for all the women and children Reece had seen beheaded, he hated ISIS with a passion.
His mother had raised him not to hate, to forgive with understanding. Now, hate seemed to plague his soul.
Where there was once light, darkness reigned.
“You’re extra tense today, Reece. Want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
He grunted, Gina’s words pulling him back from the edge.
She covered him with a sheet and the bed dipped as she lay beside him. He tensed from his hair tips to his toenails. What the hell is she doing?
“Reece, look at me.” Her hand sifted through his hair, an intimate stroke he craved like he craved the rest of his arm, which scared the bejesus out of him. He didn’t want to be attracted, but her silky voice was like a sensual magnet.
She exhaled a long sigh. “Be honest. Is it me you dislike? I want to help you get better and I can’t if you begrudge every word of instruction I give. Do you want me to get you another physical therapist? Because I will. Just say the word.”
He stared at the wall, watched an imaginary crack form and black snakes, with blood-red eyes, slither from the crack in vile orange goo. It had taken him months to realize this repetitive horrific sight was all a deranged specter, a part of his PTSD. Now, it barely increased his pulse. While having Gina lying next to him had his heart hammering like machine gun rounds.
What the hell was she thinking getting in bed with him? He was strong enough to overpower her, to assault her. Hell, he was still a man, even with most of an arm gone.
He’d never hurt her on purpose. How could he when her treatments were the high point of his days? His ma
nia fueled by his PTSD was another factor—unpredictable and uncontrollable. Because he could never ignore that unsolicited part of his psyche, he struggled to keep his fascination for her under emotional lock and key.
“Reece.” She tugged on his hair. “Do you want me to quit working with you?”
He inhaled a deep breath and allowed the truth to quietly exhale. “No.” The woman would never know how much that one whispered word of honesty cost him.
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