The Promise of Rainbows

by Ava Miles

  “Okay, let’s watch a movie,” she agreed. “What sounds good to you?”

  “I’m assuming action movies are out,” he said, earning him a look.

  “Why ever would you assume that? Just because I’m a girl, doesn’t mean I don’t like action.” She flushed at the sight of his grin. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Come on. We’ll pick out something together.”

  They settled on Casablanca since it had both action and romance. Susannah had seen it many times, but watching it with Jake was different. After all, he’d actually been in a war. The thought made her worry—what if this set him off?

  “Does this movie bother you?” she decided to ask, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

  He immediately turned to look at her. “Why would it?”

  “Well…it’s about a war.”

  His laughter dissolved any tension in her belly. “Trust me, sugar. This movie is the furthest thing from my experience in Iraq.”

  “Good,” she said, turning back to the TV.

  Humphrey Bogart was wearing his iconic white suit while walking through Rick’s Café, eyeing Ingrid Bergman with mistrust. Susannah tried to focus on the movie, but it was difficult with Jake’s warm body next to hers. His thumb was making circles on the top of her hand, and it was swirling something inside her. Shifting closer, she settled her head against his shoulder. His breathing stilled, and she felt it: the slow, steady beat of desire rising between them.

  Helpless to resist, she raised her head. His was already descending to kiss her. Their mouths met, and like usual, they both tried to keep it light. Soon it was impossible to deny the heat. Her mouth opened, and their kisses grew lusher. Wetter. She heard herself moan when he stroked her tongue with his. Rising so she could press both of her hands against his chest, she caressed the hard muscles there. So far, they’d kissed while clothed, but they hadn’t taken it any further. Sure, Jake had run his hands over her body, but she knew he was waiting for a sign from her before pushing that boundary.

  Tonight she was going to give him that sign.

  When his hands slid up to hold her waist, caressing the indention there, she lifted her blue cashmere sweater. Their gazes met, and his eyes flashed with heat and desire. His hands stroked her bare skin and traveled up her ribcage until he was touching her breasts. His mouth found hers again, leading her in a deep, arousing dance while he showed her how sensitive her breasts actually were. She moaned into his mouth again, and he pulled back slowly.

  “I want to take your bra off,” he whispered against her cheek. “Is that okay?”

  She nodded and felt his hands come around her back. The material went tight and then came loose. Holding her breath, she waited for his hands to touch her again. He slid them around, igniting all sorts of fires inside her. When he raised the bra slowly above her breasts, still keeping her sweater on, the sensations running through her were so intense she had to close her eyes.

  He was watching her, she knew, and she almost felt too vulnerable. His fingers caressed her nipples, rubbing them, sending electricity straight down her belly and beyond. Oh, she liked this. She really liked this.

  “Susannah,” he said softly.

  She opened her eyes and gazed into the deep cobalt blue of his own.

  “I want to take your sweater off,” he said, his jaw tight from tension. “I promise to stop when you tell me. Will you trust me?”

  She raised her arms slowly in response. He slid the sweater off, and her bra too, and then settled back to look at her. The fire was warm, so she wasn’t cold, but she found herself shivering all the same. Having him see her like this made her feel vulnerable and hopeful all at once. Trusting him with her body was big for her, and from the delicate way he was touching her, he knew it.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, tracing the mounds. “Everything about you is beautiful. I truly am the luckiest man in the world.”

  And then he lowered his mouth to her breasts and gave her a new taste of pleasure. He took his time, heightening her desire. The suction of his mouth became her sole focal point. When his hands gripped her waist to bring her closer to his mouth, she couldn’t contain her moan.

  “Oh, Jake,” she breathed out.

  He kissed her again, and she put her hand to his chest, wanting to touch him too.

  “Would it be all right if you took your shirt off too?” she asked, her words as hesitant as her touch. “Or would that be too much?”

  She was always worrying about making him too uncomfortable. She hated that her values made him feel so frustrated.

  “Too much and not enough,” he ground, immediately unbuttoning his shirt. He was shrugging out of it when he froze. “Ah…I have a scar. On my shoulder. From combat. It’s why…I don’t take my shirt off in public. I hope it doesn’t bother you. I can keep it on if it does. I know it’s not…pretty.”

  He’d been injured? Her breath seemed to freeze in her lungs. “I didn’t know,” she said, tracing his face.

  “I’m glad you didn’t find the article they published about it.” His mouth flattened into a straight line. “It may have made events out to be bigger than they were. It’s only a shoulder wound, but it’s still…a sight.”

  While she wanted to know more about whatever bit of heroism he was underplaying, that could wait—right now she needed to touch him. Sliding her hands inside his shirt, she eased back the fabric and helped him remove it. His pectoral muscles were beautiful and defined, but he’d been right to warn her. The scar looked to be about four inches long.

  “I was hit with a high-powered rifle,” he told her, watching her carefully.

  Leaning forward, she kissed the long ridge of that white line dotting his skin. He could have been killed, was all she could think.

  “Oh, Susannah,” he said, weaving his fingers into her hair with a groan. “I knew you were the sweetest girl in the world, but I never expected you to react like this.”

  She kissed the scar again, in benediction, and placed her hand over his warm chest, where his heart was racing. “I’m so glad you came home safe. It was like God was answering my prayers before I even knew to say them.”

  He expelled a rush of air from his chest, and she took the harsh sound as her invitation to kiss his wound again.

  “I wondered for a long time why I made it back and Booker didn’t, but right now, I think I made it back because I had to meet you.”

  She laid her forehead against his chest as those words rolled over her. Then she raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I love you, Jake.”

  His face scrunched up, a sure sign he was fighting emotion. “I love you too. I’ve wanted to tell you all week.”

  Her lips trembled, and she made herself smile. “I wanted to tell you too, but I thought it was too soon.”

  He shook his head. “Love isn’t dictated by time. So let’s agree not to let time slow us down from expressing how we feel.”

  “That sounds mighty wise if you ask me,” she said as the energy of their love filled her. She was expanding inside, her heart growing with each beat.

  “Tell me again,” he whispered, caressing the line of her cheek with his thumb.

  “I love you,” she said, the words strong and true.

  “And I love you,” he responded in that same sure tone. “Always and forever.”

  This time, when their mouths met, there was something new in their connection. The press of their lips seemed to be a bridge to something else, something permanent, something that could never be taken away.

  They slowed down so they could be present for each touch of their lips, each dance of their tongues. His hands caressed her breasts while her fingers lovingly traced his scar, as if to erase all the pain and bad memories it held.

  When their passion started to blaze out of control, Jake pressed back and kissed her cheek. She knew it was time to stop—although she wished otherwise. She made her hands fall away
from his hot skin. As he shrugged into his shirt, she followed suit, dressing quickly. He didn’t help her. Didn’t touch her again. It was for the best, she knew. Though she wanted nothing more than for him to keep on touching her and her him, but she knew where that would lead.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, rising from the couch.

  Every night he took off into the kitchen after they separated. She listened to the water run in the sink and knew he was putting a wet towel to the back of his neck. Usually his nape was damp when he returned to her with two glasses of ice water. He’d tried to joke about the ice before, but it had fallen flat. They were both too hungry for each other to laugh about it.

  She waited for him, but he took longer than he had on previous nights. Her heart hurt for it. When he finally returned, there was tension around his eyes even though he gave her a smile.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, something she found herself saying every night. “It’s not fair to you.”

  He sat beside her after putting their glasses on the coffee table. While he didn’t pull her close, he did situate his body next to hers.

  “I’ve told you not to feel bad. Honey, it’s just the way it is. I would rather be with you than anything else in the world, so don’t give it another thought.”

  Not once had he ever tried to push her. Not once had he snarled at her out of frustration.

  “Do you want me to go?” she asked quietly, noting that the movie credits were now rolling on the screen. The ending of the movie clearly hadn’t captured their attention.

  He took a hold of her hand. “No. Let’s sit by the fire for a spell. Do you want me to sing?”

  On a few other nights, he’d brought out his guitar after they’d cut their passion short, and she wondered if playing helped soothe him some. “I love to listen to you sing.”

  And so he sang to her with love in his eyes, as her mind ran through all the reasons why loving him with her body couldn’t be a bad thing.

  Chapter 23

  Jake found himself opening up more in his sessions with Louisa. He was the one who came up with the idea of flying his old Army buddies to town for a spontaneous get-together, but her encouragement was what helped him get there. She was all for the idea—she said something about how connecting his past with his present would be a powerful way to integrate the healing he was undergoing. He didn’t know much about the integration part, but he was feeling happier each day—something he wanted to share with his old friends.

  He called each of his friends and started off the same way: “I need y’all to meet my girl.” Each time, he barely managed to finish the sentence before receiving the same response: “When?”

  A week later, he picked his buddies up from the airport and drove them out to Redemption Ridge.

  Monty was the first to exit the vehicle when he pulled to a stop out front. His shrill whistle made everyone rub their ears. “Holy shit, man. I thought your last place was nice, but these digs…”

  “Your whistle still sounds like a missile getting ready to make impact,” Darren said, rubbing his ear. The diamond earring he’d gotten after leaving the service twinkled in the sun. “This place is mighty fine, Jake.”

  Monty made the sound again, giving Jake the chills. The reason Monty had started making it as a joke in the first place was to relieve their tension during missile strikes by the enemy.

  “That’s not a sound a man can forget,” Jake said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, it’s just as impossible to forget how perfect Monty’s hair always looks,” Randy said with a snort, scanning the grounds with the other guys. “Although it’s long enough to braid now.”

  “Bull-sheet,” Monty said, running his hands through his dark curls. “The wife likes it. Trust me, Jake. If Susannah is the one for you, you’ll do anything to make her happy.”

  Jake studied his friend some more. Monty walked to the back of the SUV to help Darren with their carry-ons, moving much more gracefully with his prosthetic than the last time Jake had seen him. His friend had been depressed for a long time following his injury, and he’d struggled with feeling like less than a man without his whole leg. Thank God his new wife seemed to have helped him see himself in a new light.

  “Susannah is the one, I think,” he told them, knowing it was true in his heart.

  Darren patted his massive chest like he was imitating a heartbeat. “I’ve never seen you look so dopey-faced, Lassiter,” he joked.

  “Dopey?” Randy fired back, wrapping his arm around Jake’s shoulder. “I’d say he looks like Dudley Do-Right.”

  “Not that again,” Jake said, wincing. “You know I hate that nickname.”

  Monty twirled his carry-on in a dramatic circle. “But it’s so true. Even the media calls you one of the most wholesome country singers out there.”

  He narrowed his eyes at them, which didn’t dim the wattage of their teasing grins. This was the way they ragged on each other every time they were together. “And y’all are clucking like a bunch of hens. Best come on in and see the rest of the place before you lay an egg in my front yard.”

  The guys started clucking like chickens, of course, and they kept doing it sporadically as he led them around the house, the clucker sending the rest into gales of laughter . He caught them blinking a few times at the sheer expanse of his house, which didn’t surprise him since they’d all come from modest upbringings. Darren had escaped one of the most dangerous Latino neighborhoods in Los Angeles by enlisting, while Randy had entered the Army to go to college, not wanting to join a Detroit gang like his older brother. Monty had seen the Army as his only way out of the small-town trailer park he’d grown up in outside of Mobile, Alabama.

  Jake concluded the tour by passing out beers. They hunkered down in the den, and Jake turned to one of his most bittersweet tasks as host.

  “To Booker and all the rest of our friends who didn’t make it,” he said, and they all clicked their beer bottles together.

  They were quiet for a minute, but Monty broke the tension by cracking a joke about them all being no better than a bunch of women sniffling after a funeral. They kept the conversation light after that, shooting the shit and catching up. But the next time there was a lull in the conversation, Jake decided it was time to speak his mind.

  “Reverend Louisa—Susannah’s mama—has really been helping me deal with the stuff that’s been coming up for me lately,” he told them. “I’m…more hopeful than ever that I might be normal again.”

  “You know there’s no such thing as normal, Jake,” Monty said, gesturing to his leg. “We don’t have the same experiences as most of the people around us, but that doesn’t mean we’re a lost cause. May shows me that each day.”

  “I’m glad she’s making you so happy, man,” Randy said, tipping his beer in Monty’s direction. “No one deserves it more than you. Well, except for this asshole country singer over here.”

  Jake shook his head, knowing it was all good fun. “Asshole country singer? I’ll have to tell my manager to use that headline for my next concert.”

  “So when are we meeting Susannah?” Darren asked, kicking his feet up on the footstool in front of the loveseat. “You’ve been your usual clam of a self when it comes to telling us about your lady. How hot is she?”

  “Dudley Do-Right never tells,” Monty said, chuckling. “But I’m happy to report that May is as hot as a five-alarm chili and then some.”

  “Ooh,” Darren and Randy called out.

  “I can’t believe you just compared your wife to chili, Monty,” Jake said, nudging his good leg with the tip of his boot.

  “Well, she’s hot…and sweet,” Monty said with a drawl. “Did I mention sweet?

  After meeting May a few times, Jake had to concur. “How’s work going, Monty? Are you still using your magic to make cars run? Mine might need an oil change.”

  “Shee-et, bubba. I’ll give you an oil change.” Then he shrugged. “The garage is okay, I guess. My boss is an asshole,
but it keeps me busy. There’s always a car to fix. The money’s not great, but May is working at a new restaurant where the tips are better. We’re saving up to buy a house.”

  When people talked about struggling over money, Jake felt guilty for all he had. “If you need anything, man…”

  “We’re fine, Jake,” Monty said crisply, taking a sip of his beer.

  Jake went mute. He’d offered his help before, and while he knew it was a touchy subject, he couldn’t help but offer. These guys were his friends, and he had more money than he could ever spend.

  Randy shot him a glance, and he could all but hear the man telling him to back off. They were all a prideful lot when it came down to it. He had to respect that.

  “Anyone up for some pool?” Jake asked, eager to get them back on easier ground. “As you might have noticed, my lovely lady found me a fabulous pool table for the game room.”

  “I’m game, haha,” Darren said, cracking his enormous hands. “Can we put on some salsa music?” he asked, flawlessly executing a few dance steps.

  “No!” they all immediately shouted.

  “Your preoccupation with that music makes me worry about you, man,” Randy teased him. “We should listen to country—for Jake.”

  He winced. “Let’s not. Rap or hip-hop is fine with me, but no salsa. Maybe Monty can do one of his Eminem imitations.”

  Monty launched into “Lose Yourself,” and Jake tipped back his beer and took a sip as his friend rapped out the famous song. Before his injury, Monty used to dance like Eminem while he rapped. Now, he bobbed from side to side carefully, moving his shoulders in time with the beat. Jake started to move in time with the rhythm, and soon they were all rapping the song like in the old days.