Shocked confusion marred his expression. “Emma, what the devil are you talking about?”
She ignored the lost tone of his voice and waved her hand to the table then the two of them. “That letter, you’re leaving…all of it.”
God, please let him leave quickly like last time. Then I can break down and cry until I pass out.
Two strong hands gripped her head in a tight, but gentle hold. “Emma, listen to me.” He dropped one hand to cup her chin and forced her to meet his blazing gaze. “I’m not leaving you.” Then he shrugged sheepishly. “Well, I am, but only to get coffee and food. I thought you’d sleep through it and I’d bring you breakfast in bed.”
Emma’s head spun with his words. “You…weren’t…leaving…me…again?”
Crushing her to his flannel covered chest, Brock swore. “Baby, you couldn’t get rid of me with C4 and a platoon of Marines. I’m here for as long as you’ll have me.”
“But what about the note?” she asked, unable to stifle the bubble of hope rising in her chest.
Releasing her, Brock stepped back to run a hand over his head as he turned away. “That’s everything else I couldn’t tell you. The things that still give me nightmares, my buddies that didn’t make it back. All their stories are in there including why they didn’t make it back.” He rubbed his nose while staring at the innocent white envelope. “There’s a lot I couldn’t bring myself to say. My shrink said I could write everything down and give you the letter. So that’s what I did.”
Brock spun around to face her, desperation carving white lines beside his full lips. “Emma, there’s some really bad shit on those pages. Things I never wanted to touch you, but I love you too much to keep secrets. I just pray that letter doesn’t kill your feelings for me.”
Feeling confident for the first time in days, Emma closed the space separating them. With a gentle touch, she clasped Brock’s face in her hands. “Brock, I welcome the chance to fight whatever demons are haunting you. I’m proud to stand by your side. Nothing you or anyone else could say will change my feelings for you. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’ll continue loving you until the day I die.”
“So you forgive me for walking out six years ago?” His voice was hoarse as he asked.
Emma shook her head. “I’ve thought about that and everything else you’ve told me. Brock, I don’t think it’s about forgiveness so much as understanding why you did what you did. So yes, I understand your fears back then, and with understanding, comes trust. Who’s to say I wouldn’t have run for the same reasons?”
“Marry me, Em. Be my wife, stay and love me forever. Make all my dreams come true.” Love, trust and the faint hope of happiness shined in Brock’s blue eyes.
When her answer came, it flew straight from her heart. “Yes, I’ll marry you and love you forever.” How could she not? Brock was everything she’d always dreamt of. Her heart pounded with such fierce joy she wondered if it would jump out of her chest.
He pressed a short, but desire-filled kiss to her lips before pulling away to look at her. With suspicious moisture glinting in his eyes, Brock growled low in his throat and swept Emma into his arms, nearly crushing her in his embrace. But she didn’t complain. She stroked and patted, whispering of her love.
Finally, Brock eased his grip then buried his face in the softness of her neck. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
“Oh, I don’t know how lucky you are, Brock,” she answered in a light teasing tone.
Uneasy he looked up. “What do you mean?”
Innocently, Emma twirled a long piece of her hair. “Olivia and Trinity broke Briley. Four of the Fearful Five are on their way up here now.”
Emma wanted to laugh as the colour drained from Brock’s face and he had to lean on the table to steady himself.
“Here?” His voice was hoarse.
Emma gave up on teasing him, loving him too much to keep the torment up. “Yes, but I’ll protect you from their evil ways. Besides, once they hear we’re getting married, they’ll stop all plots to have you sold to an Amsterdam bordello.”
“What?” he yelled just as four fists started knocking on the cabin door. “Baby, if I didn’t love you so much, I’d be out the window, hiding in the nearest tree with my balls safely tucked away.”
Emma laughed and patted his strong arm. “Don’t worry. We have plenty of time to call off the terrorist threat against you.”
Brock shook his head and braced his shoulders before shooting her a look of dread. “Bordello? Terrorist? Baby, are you sure these women are playing with all their marbles?”
She patted his arm then scooted around his big body to unlock the door. “Don’t worry,” Emma repeated. “At least Bri never tried to have you framed for drug smuggling in Beijing.”
Emma swung open the door, a wide smile on her face as she saw her friends. “We’re getting married.”
“Damn it, we had plane reservations for him,” Olivia muttered, looking unhappy that her illegal plans had been aborted.
“Well, there’s always Noah,” Trinity offered helpfully as the women swarmed the cabin, hugging and fussing over Emma and, to his shock, Brock.
When the four arrivals descended on the kitchen, Emma pulled him aside. “You’re theirs now. They’ll fight dirty to keep you safe too.”
Emma gave Brock a few moments to imagine his enemies or even poker buddies ending up in various horrible scenarios all because four very intelligent and evil women considered him one of their own.
He shuddered, as if shivers raced down his spine. “God help me,” he prayed then followed Emma into his lair.
About the Author
Allie Standifer has lived in various countries around the world. The gift of travel has her to accurately describe the scent and feel of far off place and feed her overactive imagination.
Her life has been one of constant adventure. From growing up in Saudi Arabia where her brother tried to sell her to Bedouins (for what amounts to less than $1.50), it’s been non-stop. And she loves every minute of it.
Ideas, plots, characters and conversations keep her company from inside her head and fuel her need to right. And now, they don’t tell her to start fired. J Tired of everyday stories, Allie’s tales have a decidedly paranormal twist to the. They’re filled with past lives, chain e-mail sending oracles, mythical creatures, magic, sexy gods and heroines who know exactly what they want and aren’t afraid to get it.
Any free time is spent spoiling two nieces and two nephews, pumping them up on sugar and caffeine, buying them very loud toys, then sending them back to their parents. The perfect revenge for all the slights of being the youngest child.
When not writing or contributing to the delinquency of minors, Allie enjoys anything to do with the ocean, reading, trying to outsmart her psycho cat and spending time with her wonder and supportive family.
Email: [email protected]
Allie loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Allie Standifer
Club Botticelli: Ordering Olivia
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