Degree of Risk

by Lindsay McKenna

  “We were both tired,” Sarah said, inhaling his masculine scent, the hot sunlight and the pine-scented soap he’d used to shower with earlier.

  “Hungry?”

  She grinned. “Not anymore.” Sarah felt his chest rumble with laughter, watching his mouth carelessly curve. Ethan’s face was strong, darkly tanned, and the beard did nothing but give him that air of dangerousness. When he slid a look toward her, she pouted and said, “Well, maybe we had dessert first. I am kind of hungry, for a goddess…”

  *

  They made beef sandwiches at 1300 after finally deciding they’d better get out of bed and get some protein. Sarah found a jar of butter pickles, Ethan found some chips. They ate at the long, oval dining room table. The housekeeper did not appear and Sarah was glad she respected their need to be alone. The villa almost felt as if they owned it and they were sitting down to enjoy a lunch with one another. Ethan discovered some beer in the fridge and opened two bottles to go with their scavenger lunch.

  He sat at the end of the table, his plate on an orange place mat. Sara sat to his right. He watched her nibble on the pickle, her lips so damned beautiful. He wanted her to nibble on him like that. It didn’t get any better than this.

  “What are your future plans?” Ethan asked, picking up another pickle, watching her.

  “Hmm, well—” Sarah eyed him warmly “—to marry you.”

  “When?”

  There was a seriousness in his eyes. “When we get rotated back to the States.”

  “Sounds wise.” He held her gaze. “My parents were asking me in an email about a week ago if you would mind if we got married at their ranch in Texas.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I love rural country.” And then Sarah shrugged, faraway pain in her voice. “I don’t have a family, Ethan. You’re marrying a stray.”

  His heart clenched in his chest. Every so often, the past would come bleeding through her present like a stain and make him wince inwardly. He remained still, saying nothing for a moment. “You’re not a stray,” he said gently, reaching out and placing his finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “My family will love you. I love you. You belong to me, Sarah. I belong to you. I don’t see any stray here, do you?” Ethan looked around him to prove the point after releasing her chin.

  Her lips quirked as she finished off the last of her sandwich, famished. “You’re right. Sometimes…I get scared.”

  “Of what?” God knew, Sarah had plenty to be frightened of. The ghosts from her past would have destroyed most people.

  Sarah shrugged. “I’m afraid I’ll lose you, Ethan.” There, she’d finally admitted it. The terror of losing him was so huge for her, she couldn’t ignore it or hide from it.

  Reaching out, Ethan grazed her cheek. “I’m not going to abandon you, Sarah. I’d never do that.” His voice lowered with emotion. “You’re the woman I want to wake up to every morning I draw a breath into my body. Your smile just makes my heart hammer with joy I’ve never felt before.”

  His words seemed to drive out her fear, for now. “I’ve never been in love, Ethan. I never knew it could be like this. It’s like bright sunlight and I’m getting so used to it, love it so much, that I’m afraid something will come along and throw me back into that pitch darkness I lived in for so long.”

  Ethan wiped off his hands with the linen napkin, pushed back his chair and stood up. “Come here,” he urged thickly, holding out his hand to her as he pulled the chair back for her.

  He led Sarah over to the long L-shaped dark brown leather couch, sat her down with him and gathered her into his arms. She curled her legs beneath her, content to be held by him. “You’ve come such a long way alone, Sarah,” Ethan told her quietly, his lips against her hair. “And now that you’ve found me and I’ve found you, you’re afraid I’ll be taken or leave.”

  Ethan pressed a kiss to her hair as she buried her face against his neck, her palm against his chest. “It’s okay to feel it. It’s normal. Hell, there isn’t a day goes by that I don’t feel fear of losing you. There’s so many ways it can happen.” Tears pricked the back of his eyes. Easing Sarah away, angling her so that he could look deeply into her eyes, he whispered, “You’re my soul mate. There will never be anyone else but you. And we’ve just got to have faith that we’ll make it through this deployment alive and well. We have so much to look forward to, Sarah. So much…”

  Tears silently trailed down her cheeks. “I’ve just never felt like this Ethan. I feel like my heart is being gnawed away every time you go on patrol. I’m so damned scared, I’m ashamed of myself. I thought only teenage girls went through this kind of thing.”

  Ethan laughed quietly and nudged some dark strands away from her temple. “Oh no, that’s reserved for everyone. It’s not age related—it’s love related. When you love someone, you automatically worry about them.” He caught her downcast look. “Okay?”

  “I’m sorry for being such a whiner.”

  He squeezed her. “You whine to me anytime you want. I like to hear what’s in your head and heart, Sarah. You never bore me. You never will. You’re smart, a fox, and you’re mine.”

  Sarah still couldn’t shake the impending doom she felt. Maybe it was hormones. If she hadn’t been on the pill for the past nine years, she’d still have whipsaw periods that sent her into angry rages and nonstop irritability. Perhaps, it was nothing more than her period, which was always irregular in combat.

  Still, it didn’t ease Sarah’s fear of losing Ethan. He was so alive, so male, so incredibly sensitive and tender toward her that she knew she’d die if he was ever lost to her. Sarah simply didn’t have the strength to survive his loss.

  “Come on,” Ethan urged her softly, “let’s finish our beer and then I want to show you some family photos.” He leaned over, catching Sarah’s gaze. “My mother has been ragging on me ever since I told her I gave you an engagement ring. Rescue me, will you?”

  “Okay,” Sarah said, feeling better. “I do want to meet your family. They sounded so nice from the way you described them to me.” And she realized she would, once more, have a real family. Ethan’s family. A nice family, like Hank and Mary had given her from age twelve to eighteen years old. Ethan released her and she missed his warmth, his quiet strength.

  “Come on,” Ethan urged, holding out his hand to her. Sarah seemed disturbed about something and he wasn’t sure his words had addressed it or made her feel any better. He led her back to the table and pulled out the chair for her. These two days were going to cement their relationship and make it indestructible. And Ethan wanted to spend every minute of it with Sarah.

  Chapter 4

  Ethan sat at one end of the couch, Sarah stretched out, her head in his lap after dinner. There was soft classical music in the background. The sun was low in the west, the sky slowly growing old. He sifted his fingers slowly through her hair, watching her expression. She had been tired and he wanted these two days to get her rested up. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted.

  “Tell me about some of the good memories you have from when you lived with Hank and Mary Benson?” he asked her quietly. He watched her face, her eyes still closed. Her mouth softened over his question.

  “They were very kind to me, Ethan. They knew I had been sexually abused for years, and they couldn’t love me enough. They tried to make up for it, I think. At first, I was afraid of Hank, but he eventually won me over.”

  “How?” Ethan gazed down at her. Wearing just the tank top and jeans, her small feet perfect and bare, gave her a wild, natural appearance.

  “Hank knew I was afraid of him because he was a man. About three months into my stay with them, he took me out to the nearby airport to show me the helicopter he flew. I was so taken with it, I couldn’t contain myself.” She laughed a little, gazed up into Ethan’s relaxed features. “I asked him if I could sit in the helo and he opened the door and I climbed into the copilot’s seat. He was getting it gassed up for a job the next morning when he
had to dust a farmer’s crop of cotton. I was fascinated with the cyclic, the collective and the panel of instruments. He sat in there for an hour with me as I asked him what each dial meant.”

  “He was forging trust with you.” Ethan caressed her cheek, feeling the velvet warmth of her flesh beneath his fingertips.

  “Yes, and the next time he was going out to spray a field, he asked if I wanted to go along.” Sarah sighed and smiled fondly in remembrance of that day. “Hank taught me how to fly. When I got up in the air, I felt like I had freedom for the first time in my life.” She stared off into space. “Freedom before that was a closet to hide in. Hiding, I thought, was freedom.” She bit her lower lip. “Hank and Mary tried to socialize me when I was a teen, but I just didn’t want anything to do with boys. They scared me too much.”

  “It was a survival reflex.” He skimmed his hand down her slender arm and tangled his fingers within hers. Ethan didn’t want bad memories for her right now, so he detoured into something positive. “You know the SEALs will be asking me to re-up. I get out six months from now if I don’t.”

  Sarah tried to gird herself for the answer he’d give her. “Will you reenlist?”

  Ethan looked down into her worried blue eyes. “No, angel, four tours into Afghanistan is enough for me. I want to start a new chapter in my life with you.”

  Sarah closed her eyes, relief surging through her. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t leave the SEALs, Ethan.”

  “A lot of guys stick around. We’re a big, messy military family.” He smiled. “But you’re more important to me. I want one hell of a life with you, Sarah.”

  His words soothed her heart. “When did you decide this?”

  “The day I saw you at the canteen. I knew then that we were meant for each other.”

  “Even though I gave you crap?” She grinned.

  “Yes, because I saw the real you.

  “You have good insight into people, Ethan. That’s a real gift.”

  He leaned back, closed his eyes, absorbing her and the peaceful moment. “You’re my gift and don’t ever forget that, Sarah.”

  His hand came to rest on her shoulder, warm, solid, and a sense of protectiveness wrapped around her. “Until you walked into my life, Ethan, I had my women friends over at the Black Jaguar Squadron. And even then, I felt alone. And now,” Sarah whispered, “I feel like this is all a dream. A beautiful dream.”

  “Dreams do come true,” Ethan drawled, smiling over the wispy quality of her voice. “After we get married, where would you like to live?”

  She raised her brows, thinking. “I love San Diego. And I know you’re based there in Coronado.”

  “Because you like the ocean?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ve always seen myself like the ocean.”

  “You have the depth.”

  “No, I was thinking more like my moodiness, my emotional highs and lows. Peaceful one day, hell-raising and angry the next.”

  “I like the ocean, too, for the same reasons. I can sit out on Coronado Beach and watch the waves go in and out for hours. It’s healing to me. Maybe it is for you, too.”

  “Water has always been healing for me. So? San Diego?”

  “Sure,” Ethan said, grazing her cheek, hearing her purr, that soft sound vibrating in her slender throat. “Did you know I have a degree in mechanical engineering?”

  Sarah blinked. “No. But, you’re enlisted! How?” A four-year degree set a person up to become an officer. Anything less, the military saw the individual as an enlisted person. Or in her case with two years of college, a warrant officer.

  “I worked on the degree every time the team rotated back to Coronado for eighteen months. Took me five years to get it from San Diego University, but I wanted a trade to support me when I got out.”

  “You could be an officer, Ethan.”

  “Not me. Not into politics.” He laughed.

  “I’m impressed. Here I thought you were just an enlisted swabby,” she teased. Sarah loved the light in his gray eyes, the happiness. “So, you’ll look for a mechanical engineer job in the San Diego area?”

  “Yes. I want to join a small company, not some big machine.”

  “You like to get your hands dirty, Quinn.”

  He gave her a wicked look, “Yes, indeed I do.” He held up one large hand. “And I like touching things, handling them, seeing how they work….”

  She snorted. “What a line, frogman!”

  They laughed together at the inside joke that had definite sexual implications. Sarah sat up and turned around, crossing her legs, her hands resting on her knees.

  “What about you?” Ethan asked, clearly enjoying their repartee. “Job-wise?”

  “I’d definitely want to try to be hired by a hospital to fly medevac.” She shrugged. “It’s in my blood, Ethan. I like helping people who can’t fend for or protect themselves.”

  He reached out, cupping her cheek. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

  The grittiness in his voice flowed into her heart, warming her body once again. The glittering expression in his eyes told Sarah he loved her. There was no question. She found her voice a little shaken. “I want to fly, Ethan. I need to fly. It’s my freedom even though I know that things are changing, I’m changing, but I have to have air under me.”

  “Angel, you can fly as long as you want. I just want you to be happy, is all.” Ethan accepted her explanation, wanting to kill Bill Caldwell with his bare hands. He was the foster father who had abused Sarah for six long, damned years. He flexed his fist, his blood chilling. He continued to be outraged by the social workers and the state that never caught on to the situation she was hopelessly trapped within. Sarah had to save herself, run to the police and tell them she was being hurt. Then she was given to Hank and Mary Benson and her physical torture ended. Ethan could see the levels of damage done to Sarah. She was fighting every day to get rid of the monsterlike memories that haunted her life. He wished she could be free of it. Perhaps his love for her would hurry the process, lighten her personal load and release her in so many other positive ways.

  “Do you think your parents will fuss if we live in San Diego and not back in Texas?”

  Ethan was always touched by her sensitivity and consideration of others. “They’ll be okay with it,” he assured her.

  “And your brothers and sisters?” Sarah never had any and had no experience with siblings. She watched Ethan’s grin widen.

  “I’m the oldest. What I say goes.” He chuckled. She became quiet. Ethan saw worry in her eyes. Sarah began to chew on her lower lip. He’d discovered that was a sign of something really bothering her. “Hey,” he whispered, “what’s worrying you?”

  Sarah felt his calloused fingers graze her cheek. She heard the care in his voice. It gave her the courage to speak. “What about children?” She held her breath, afraid. So afraid.

  “Sarah, whatever you want is okay with me. I’m marrying you because I love you. I want you to be the center of my heart’s universe.”

  The ice in her stomach dissolved. Sarah drew in a deep, ragged sigh and released it. “I like kids,” she whispered. “But Ethan, I’m so afraid—” and she couldn’t meet his gaze “—so afraid that I’d be a terrible mother. I never want to hurt a child and I’m so afraid that I would.” Pressing her palms to her eyes, Sarah tried to steady her breathing, feeling so damned vulnerable and embarrassed.

  Ethan whispered her name and pulled Sarah into his arms. She was distraught. It felt as if a knife had been plunged through his heart. Sarah came and buried her face against his chest, her hands hiding her features. He could feel her struggling not to cry. Dammit! Tears burned in his eyes.

  Helplessness was not a feeling he acknowledged. As a SEAL there were always options. Thinking outside the box. A work-around. But as he felt Sarah tense and heard her breathing become raspy, he closed his eyes and rested his head against hers. There was no fix for this, Ethan realized. All Sarah had known grow
ing up from that most impressionable age, when children cloned their mother and father, were the Caldwells, who had abused her.

  How then would Sarah think she could ever become a good mother to their children? She had no positive role model, had not experienced a nurturing mother to learn from or to emulate. Had Marg Caldwell hit her? Flown into a rage and beat her often enough that Sarah thought she might do the same thing to her own child? Ethan’s mouth tightened and he held Sarah tightly, wishing like hell he could take away her uncertainty, her terror. Her shoulders shook and she held her hand against her mouth, as if to stop the sounds of her crying.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” Ethan rasped, his voice hoarse. “You’re safe and you can let it go….” He would do anything to remove that wound from her soul. And he’d asked her innocent questions tonight, thinking that the future would be something to look forward to, to share. Marriage. A job. A place where they both wanted to live. A home. A conversation like this would just naturally lead to questions about having a family. Why the hell hadn’t he thought about children, Sarah being pregnant? Whether she wanted children at all?

  Finally, Ethan gently smoothed her cheek dry of the tears. “I’m sorry,” he said heavily. “I wasn’t thinking, Sarah. It doesn’t matter to me whether we have children or not.” He smoothed her mussed hair, pulling strands aside that hid her face. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He brushed her pale cheek. “As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters, Sarah.” Her eyes were tightly shut and he could see small, beaded tears on some of her black lashes.

  Sarah felt a snake pit writhing around inside her. She felt dirty, unclean, not deserving of someone like Ethan. Inwardly, she sensed he wanted children. A family. What normal man and woman wouldn’t want children? His question had torn off a scab from another wound she carried. Sarah was afraid he wouldn’t love her if she didn’t want children, and that she’d lose the most important person to her heart. Opening her eyes, she wiped her eyes and then rested her palm over his heart, feeling it beat so slow and strongly beneath it.