His Shooting Star: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  “Then where’s the vest?” he retorts.

  I only shrug in reply.

  And so it could go on, but I’m done with it all. I’ve told Xander One that, and here I am, back home.

  My proper home, where I belong. With Gillian.

  “Where’s Gillian,” I ask her dad. Noting the pained expression he gets when I say her name.

  “She’s at the Patterson’s.” He humphs to himself. “I’ve been trying to tell myself I’d come down here, take her home. Even with all this, I thought I could still do that,” he muses aloud.

  “Except?” I ask.

  “Except I believe her when she tells me she loves you. And the fact I came here to wait for you to break your nose for fooling around with my daughter,” he laughs softly to himself.

  “And?” I ask, wondering aloud myself if he still will.

  “I don’t think I could even reach your nose let alone break it,” he concedes.

  “I do love Gillian,” I tell him. “More than the words or the actions,” I add, making him wince again.

  “I don’t need the gory details,” he groans, sighing as he looks helplessly at his evidence.

  “What am I supposed to do with all this?” he asks me.

  “I’ve put three cases at home on hold to come down here to help out with this, and from every side, I look at it, every angle, it just doesn’t add up.”

  “Have you ever not solved a case?” I ask him, knowing he hasn’t.

  “No. No, I haven’t, until now,” he says with stubborn pride.

  The distant sound of a helicopter makes me smile a little.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much, Mike. Can I call you Mike?” I ask, glad when he shrugs a ‘why not.’

  “You see, even if I did tell you everything. Even if I could remember everything myself, I’d have no real proof,” I admit.

  “And why not?” The detective asks, his own professional interest piqued as the buzzing becomes a deep booming drone.

  I smile again, pointing up. But it’s not a knowing smile anymore.

  Not a sarcastic or even commanding smile.

  It’s the smile of relief. The relief of not knowing. Not wanting to or even having to know anymore.

  “I don’t follow,” Detective Parker says, frowning.

  The helicopter gets closer, finally whomping so loud I can hear my own ears wanting to pop.

  There’s the movement of dark vehicles outside too. SUV’s. Looking startled, the detective rushes to the window.

  I ease myself onto my couch, putting my feet up on the coffee table.

  Still wondering what day it is. Wishing my throat wasn’t so sore.

  The front door bursts open and looking at me with his hand wanting to draw his gun I shake my head at him instead.

  There’s really no point. I tell him with my mind, watching his expression change as it registers.

  We all pretend not to know, but really we all know. I smile.

  Familiar-looking men in dark suits fill the room, boxing up everything. The noise of the chopper recedes and someone hands the detective a handset, which he holds to his ear momentarily before putting it on speaker and setting it down on the table.

  “Detective Parker. Colonel Xander Sixteen. This is Secretary of Defense, General Miles Bragg. I’m calling you detective, to ask you to stand down your investigation. Effective immediately. We’ll take care of things from here. Your own department and precincts have been notified.”

  The detective scowls, but his own astonishment is still obvious.

  “Colonel Xander Sixteen?” The same voice asks, sounding a lot less authoritative. Almost timid.

  “Yes General, I’m here,” I tell him. “But it’s just Xander now. Retired.” I let him know if he doesn’t know that already.

  “As you wish, sir,” he replies before continuing. “I’m authorized and very pleased to give you our nations and our own heartfelt thanks for all your service over the years. Not just to this country, but to the world. We owe you a debt of gratitude. The President herself would thank you, but she isn’t cleared for this level of operations. I hope my thanks are acceptable in her absence.”

  I’m glad it’s a voice call and not a video call because I hate those.

  “Thank you, General. Always glad to be of service.”

  I notice a few of my favorite charts and pictures being removed, but what’s the point in splitting hairs?

  The General asks to be put back on to the commanding officer on the ground and I can only wait for what I really want.

  What I really need.

  It’s so close, I feel it, but with all the cars and helicopters it’s hard to gauge how close she really is.

  Detective Mike Parker scratches his head, then his chin, and finally has to laugh a little with me as we watch the last of the operatives remove all evidence, except for me of course.

  Just as the last dark SUVs pull away, a familiar V8 sound rumbles up the drive and I feel my heart thunder in my chest.

  Mike Parker has his hands on his thighs, ready to help himself out of his chair, but I motion for him to stay.

  Just for a while longer.

  I wince when I hear the car scraping alongside something, possibly a police cruiser, which Mike rushes to investigate.

  It’s Gillian.

  And I’ve never been so glad to see anyone or anything in my whole life.

  She ignores her dad and the car, hobbling over to me as I step through our front doorway, lifting her into my arms, taking in the life-giving breath of her scent.

  The touch of her hair and the warmth of her skin against mine, instantly making both of us whole again.

  I kiss her hard and long until her dad behind us clears his throat and I set his daughter down, my arm firmly around her as I keep her close.

  “That’s another lot of paperwork you just caused,” he says, trying to scold his daughter, but eyeing the pair of us, he can’t stay mad.

  “Did you do what you came up here to do, Dad?” Gillian finally asks,

  I turn my attention to her dad again who replies. “No. No, I haven’t yet,” he confides.

  He takes several long strides towards me, and extending his hand to mine, he grips it firmly.

  “You saved my daughter’s life, Xander. Professor… Colonel… Whoever you are. And I owe you mine because of it,” he says choking back emotion.

  Taking a step back and saluting me, I feel my face warm before I reach over and embrace him.

  “You haven’t lost a daughter, only gained a friend,” I remind him. Holding him as long as he needs to compose himself.

  “Well,” he finally says, wiping his eye free from dust or grit I guess. “I’ll leave you both to it,” he says and I let Gillian go just long enough so she can see her dad to his car, hugging him farewell before we both stand at the end of our driveway, waving him goodbye until he visits again.

  Gillian hands me a small paper sack.

  “What’s this?” I ask. Hearing her clear sweet voice in my mind reply.

  Cough syrup and aspirin, just like you wanted.

  I laugh out loud, lifting her up and kissing her again, stooping a little more than usual as I carry her across the threshold.

  Home.

  Our new home.

  “I love you, Professor Sexton. My hero,” she whispers as I lean against the door to close it.

  “Hero?” I ask.

  “For saving us from that crazy stalker?” she adds. Looking down at her belly.

  “There’s no end to loving you Gillian,” I tell her. “I’ll love you today, tomorrow, and into eternity,” I whisper, wondering why she’s rolled her eyes.

  She giggles, like a girl with a secret.

  “How ‘bout we start with Wednesday?” she adds, winking up at me.

  Cleverly helping me out with what day it is without me having to ask.

  That’s my girl.

  Epilogue

  Two Months Later

  Gillian
/>   I don’t know what’s harder, keeping certain news from a certain husband to be who can read minds or keeping my lips sealed?

  Either way, my wedding dress is safe but the wedding night lingerie arrived while I wasn’t home, so I had to order a different set once Xander opened it ‘by accident’.

  I swear the man has x-ray vision too sometimes.

  Xander wasn’t unhappy with the first choice, mind you. I didn’t think he’d be so interested in the wedding preparation and that sort of thing, but he’s still full of surprises.

  I thought dad would take our engagement so soon a little hard, but he’s insisted on being involved with the wedding. Even wanting to pay for everything, but Xander won’t let him do that.

  Xander wants to plan as much as my dad, but between them, they haven’t achieved much so far.

  My job? Dress and outfits. The boys seem hell-bent on planning the wedding of the century.

  “Why so soon honey?” is all dad asked.

  “I have my reasons,” I smiled coyly, joking that with a catch like Xander I needed to put a ring on him before he got away.

  Dad nodded and tapped the side of his nose. “A clever move. But I think Xander’s just as smitten as you are,” is all he commented, and don’t I know it.

  It’s like we get closer every day, and keeping certain things, good things a surprise is almost impossible.

  Almost.

  There was a suggestion that the ceremony be a big deal, courtesy of Xander’s friends in certain high places but he wouldn’t hear of that either.

  “Just a simple ceremony with a few friends and family, right?” he keeps asking me, trying to be agreeable but his usual aloof self, but still making a face whenever dad or I make any actual suggestions.

  “The date’s been set,” I remind him, thrusting my engagement ring finger in front of him to remind him.

  “We just need to book a chapel or minister or whatever it is you want,” I remind him as the days turn into weeks.

  “Just no space stuff, right? We don’t need lights over the neighborhood or you disappearing for a few days,” I caution him which makes him quiet for a few days.

  In the end, I have to step in. Not hard to do when nothing’s happening.

  Dad’s busy with work and Xander seems to have learned how to sulk. Cute, but not helping.

  It’s the closest we’ve come to an argument, but needs must so I take full charge by going straight to the professionals.

  I go to the Palazzo’s without Xander knowing, and with her blessing, Nonna Palazzo promises to arrange everything at the restaurant for the wedding day reception.

  That just leaves the ceremony itself.

  All that matters to me is a dress I can pass on to our children and to marry the man I love in, and if we can avoid doing it in outer space or some secret government bunker with the groomsmen wearing spiral earpieces, I’d be grateful.

  Xander surprises me almost a month out from our date when I get home from another dress fitting. I was ready to postpone but figured he had something up his sleeve.

  “I’ve got it, my love,” he announces triumphantly, really surprising me by having dinner ready and letting me know he’s arranged the ceremony.

  “Tell me over dinner,” I reply, relieved. I shower and change, never disappointed when Xander cooks.

  He does everything so well.

  Except for wedding ceremonies, I guess.

  “A priest at the local church?” I repeat, having sat through two courses of him building up the suspense and giving me the big reveal over dessert.

  “What do you think? Not too much?” he asks, genuinely not wanting to overdo it and really believing he’s had a breakthrough.

  I take a minute to digest it, but he’s so adorable, so innocent sometimes that I have to agree it’s the best idea yet.

  “I’m glad you’re happy sweetheart,” he tells me, sitting me on his lap, and kissing me on the lips.

  “Sometimes I just can’t tell with you, Xander. But I’d rather a small, traditional ceremony than none at all.”

  “Now all I need to do is find a caterer,” he sighs, and I can’t go through with it.

  I couldn’t have another week of watching him try so hard.

  “Nonna Palazzo’s,” I whisper in his ear, already following her suggestion to let him think it was his idea when the moment came.

  “Of course! Why didn’t we think of it before?” he cries out, rushing to the phone and spending an hour speaking in animated Italian while I book our honeymoon.

  “It’s a two-week cruise and train trip through the Rockies, Alaska, and Canada,” I tell him when he’s off the phone, holding up a warning finger and daring him to make a face before he agrees it’s a wonderful idea.

  ONE MONTH AND ONE WEEK LATER…

  I’m looking forward to everything, so glad it’s finally our big day. I spent the night at the Patterson’s, with Mrs. Patterson proving me wrong about her these past few months.

  She not only kept me from the bridegroom last night but helped me source antique lace and materials for my dress, which she’s expertly sewed herself and mostly by hand.

  “An irregular hobby. Glad to see it being put to use,” Mrs. Patterson sniffs, mumbling something about me being beautiful before she shuffles off to get ready herself.

  For something old, we have the lace veil. Something borrowed and blue is a beautiful sapphire pendant I’m sure I’ll struggle to have Mrs. Patterson let me return to her.

  “We just need something new,” she gasps, worrying that she’s completely forgotten that part.

  “Oh, I have that covered,” I let her know, having to accept her pout when I let her know it’s a little bit of a secret for now.

  “Well, do tell when you’re ready dear,” she chimes, recovering herself and flushing pink when she looks me up and down for the hundredth time.

  “You do look beautiful,” she concedes, a little line of silver at the corner of her eye.

  I hug her and thank her again, for everything.

  “And by the way,” she whispers. “I never did thank you for the house. I don’t know how you managed to fix all those things Mr. Patterson’s never got around to doing.”

  I feel myself getting misty-eyed, but she’s too efficient for that, and reminding everyone we’re already late, she bundles us all into the waiting line of local patrol cars serving as wedding cars for the day.

  Something I couldn’t talk my dad, or the college campus police out of.

  I left the service to Xander, and when we pull up at the church, I feel the butterflies kick in.

  It’s the oldest and prettiest building in town, a converted cathedral itself, I couldn’t have wished for a nicer setting for the service.

  My dad’s waiting, dressed in his full police uniform and he has to take more than a few moments before he’s ready to walk me down the aisle.

  “Your mom would be so proud,” he whispers, kissing me on the cheek and nodding when I ask if he remembered the rings.

  It’s the longest walk of my life, and so many people I never knew could or would care have turned out to wish us well, many more I don’t, so maybe it’s not so small a ceremony I grin. Everyone is smiling but a fair amount has a tear in their eye.

  Xander’s so big and tall, he never seems far away but it seems forever before I’m by his side and we can finally face each other, my dad giving me away as well as being best man.

  Despite the cathedral setting, it is a simple ceremony, just like Xander said.

  Our vows are simple and from the heart, a simple ‘I do’ from each of us, but after the ring exchange, there’s another token for Xander.

  A symbol of thanks.

  My dad presents him with a state police medal of honor for bravery, pinning it to his lapel and saluting him along with dozens of other officers who join the ceremony before he finally kisses his bride and we’re showered with confetti and rice on our way to his waiting car to take us to Palazzo’s for
the reception.

  Pointing up as we pull away from the church, there’s a very coincidental military fly-by, with a half dozen jets information too.

  That whole afternoon and well into the evening, I learn what Italian hospitality is really all about, and despite begging to change out of my dress I fear will burst if I eat another thing, Nonna Palazzo insists I leave it on, her own eyes damp with tears as she sees what must be like a son to her finally married.

  Only when it’s almost time for us to go, for our farewell as ‘just married’ and off to the airport can I change, and it’s Xander himself who insists on doing the driving from here on.

  All the guests have strict instructions to enjoy themselves until they can’t take anymore and carrying me to the car, we must spend half an hour with more kisses and well wishes before we finally pull away.

  “How do you feel, Mrs. Sexton?” Xander asks, looking more than pleased with himself, already eyeing my low cut top and resting his hand in my lap once I put it in mine.

  “Full of Italian food,” I confess. “But the happiest woman alive, Mr. Sexton,” I tell him truthfully.

  I notice him drive straight past the turnoff to the airport and I open my mouth to ask but think better of it.

  “Just one more little surprise,” he murmurs, almost making me groan but I knew we couldn’t avoid it.

  No space stuff I said, but it’s not really. Kind of not anyway. Only to the edge of the atmosphere, Xander promises.

  “It’s as close as I’ll be getting to out there for a while,” he tells me. “Plus we’ll be in Colorado in about ten minutes,” he adds as we stand at the stairs leading up to some kind of stealth fighter-looking thingy instead of the Delta flight I booked us.

  I feel a moment of hesitation. “Is it safe for women?” I ask and he laughs. “It’s safe for women,” he assures me.

  “Pregnant women?” I add, tugging his hand and putting it on my belly.

  “You mean?” he asks and I nod, biting my lip.

  “Surprise,” I fake cheer, not trying to take away from his surprise, but not wanting to get on anything that could harm our baby either.

  He grabs me, holding me close.