by Zoe York
“The future,” he said simply.
“Post-retirement?”
“I guess so.”
“What are you going to do next?”
“Nothing.”
She waited.
He laughed. “I’m only partially kidding. I honestly have no idea how I’ll fill my time.”
“Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”
He lifted their entangled hands and kissed her knuckles. “Of course.”
“Everyone needs a purpose, Frank.”
He’d had two. He’d been a husband and a SEAL, and nothing else had mattered. He took a deep breath. “I know. I’ll find my way.”
He hoped.
The trees grew thicker as the path curved away from the buildings. He wrapped his arm around her, encouraging her to lean against him. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That’s good advice.”
“I know a little something about being lost, and I can’t imagine losing the love of my life.” She squeezed her arm around his waist. “But the man I saw tonight…he’ll figure it out.”
That was the thing. That man? He was mostly an act these days. “I’m not sure he’s real,” he confessed.
“How about the man on the mountain yesterday?”
He’d been real as anything. Frank hauled Grace hard against him and crushed his mouth against hers. “He’s legit,” he growled.
“Then trust him.” She kissed him back. “Race back to the cabin?”
Grace was glad she’d worn running shoes. Frank let her win, but not by much. He caught her around the waist as she leapt onto the porch, and the next thing she knew he had her pinned against the door on her side of the cabin.
“Again with the fun,” he rumbled.
“That’s me, Little Miss Sunshine,” she said breathlessly.
He groaned and pressed his mouth to her neck, sucking on the skin there. “My wildflower,” he whispered. “But yes, sunshine, too.”
“My bed or yours?” She tried to quip it, but it came out quite serious.
He didn’t seem to mind. His hands tightened on her body and he dragged in a rough breath. “Yours.”
The room was dark, lit just from the moon, but they both knew where the bed was. Grace fell back with a sigh as Frank climbed on top of her, his thighs pressing hers apart. He trailed his fingers down her neck and over her chest, palming one breast as he took the other nipple in his mouth. She rubbed his cheek, the rough stubble a shocking contrast to the soft, wet heat of his mouth.
Melting into the mattress, she let him be in charge. He kissed her roughly, then softer, pausing here and there to check that she was still with him.
Oh, she was so with him it hurt.
She needed him inside her pronto, but the man hadn’t done this in more than a year, and the last time had been with the love of his life. Grace could be a little patient.
And worst-case scenario, he’d do that thing with his fingers again and she’d be just fine.
Slowly but surely, they lost items of clothing. His shirt first, then hers. Then her shorts, and she was in her underwear for a while. He kissed every inch of exposed skin until she was squirming, and then the rest of the clothes went poof.
When he was back on top of her, Grace lifted her hips, needing him to fill that ache, and they both shook when her wet sex made contact with his erection.
“Condom,” he muttered, but she was way ahead of him. She’d already opened a box earlier that day, anticipating this moment.
“Under the pillow,” she gasped.
“Genius woman.” A quick rip of a packet later he was sheathing himself and then he was right there again, notching into her.
She moaned his name as she arched toward him, and he braced his arms around her.
“Grace,” he whispered, his voice shaking.
She cried out again as his first thrust stretched her to the aching point. Stretching her arms above her head, she fisted the pillow in one hand and scrabbled at the solid headboard with the other. Frank tipped her hips up with one wide hand curled under her bottom and found her wiggling fingers with the other hand. She curled her legs up high on his side as they surged together like that, hands clasped, and bodies entwined.
She’d fantasized about him on top of her all day. The reality was so much better. She couldn’t keep her mouth off his skin, kissing his mouth and his neck and his chest. She desperately wanted to take a bite out of the bulging muscle where his neck met his shoulder.
The whole time he kept moving inside her, relentlessly building that unbelievable feeling that she just might explode from desire. “So good,” she panted, and he lifted his head.
“Tell me what you want.” The room was nothing but shadows, but her eyes had adjusted, and she could see the intensity on his face. Even if there had been any doubt, she could hear it in his voice.
“This, I just want this.” She tightened her legs. “You inside me.”
His face twisted, desperate need warring with astonishment, and then he groaned. Deep, feral, perfect. She would remember that sound for the rest of her life and hold it like a secret treasure.
“Frank.” She said his name on a long breath, then again and again, chanting it as he tilted his hips, finding her clit between their bodies.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice tight as his body shook over her, and she ran her hand over her belly, down to where they were joined. The hot, wet spot where he filled her, and then she closed her eyes, tipped her head back and pushed herself over the edge as he exploded inside her.
Chapter 11
Frank held Grace as she fell asleep. He dozed off, too, but not for long.
It had been too long since he’d slept next to another body, and the last few times had been agonizing. This—not the sex, but this quiet period after it—was the unexpected trauma he hadn’t seen coming.
After a while, he got up and carefully dressed, then stepped outside.
He didn’t go into his own cabin. He wouldn’t be able to sleep if he did, and he had had enough of lying miserably awake for a whole lifetime.
He sat on the step.
Their step.
In a few short days, it had become a place where a lot had happened. Now he let those memories wash over him. Not just things that had happened at the cabin, but up on the mountain. On the lake. And then something she’d said after he’d helped her get back in her kayak. When they’d taken their drinks to the sunny patch of grass behind the main lodge and learned a bit more about each other.
The start of their friendship in a lot of ways.
“Better something than nothing.”
She’d been talking about travel. About grabbing what you can afford, what was available, rather than bemoaning that it wasn’t exactly what you wanted.
But it felt hollow inside to think of grabbing a person, knowing they were only something, and not everything.
Bianca had been his everything.
Grace could never—
Frank groaned, a loud, guttural wounded sound. He was the worst kind of monster for even having that thought.
Grace was amazing. On every level, she was a fantastic woman. She deserved more than sharing space in his head and his heart with the ghost of a wife he’d adored for three decades.
“Can’t sleep?”
He jerked his head around and saw Grace in her doorway. She was in her oversized pyjamas again and looked cute as hell. She’d dressed herself before coming to find him.
He’d left her naked in her bed, and she’d had to put on clothes because he’d snuck out. Sure, he hadn’t gone far, but still…
Guilt swam in his gut. “Yeah.”
“Do you want company? Or would you prefer privacy?”
“Company,” he said without hesitation. But then he winced. God, he couldn’t keep his shit straight. After two days of being fine, now was not the time to fall apart.
She didn’t react to his facial expression. Maybe she couldn’t see it in the shadows. “‘Kay.”<
br />
He swallowed hard. “You should go to sleep, actually.”
A beat went by, then another, before she softly said, “Are you feeling guilty?”
“You don’t really believe in personal boundaries much, do you?”
“Highly overrated. Unless they’re mine, in which case they’re sacrosanct. It’s a weird thing of mine.”
“You have a lot of weird things that are actually pretty sound. I’ll trust this one, too.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m feeling guilty. A bit.”
“I know you miss your wife. That’s okay. I’ve been with widowers before.”
He laughed and groaned at the same time.
She was undeterred. “At our ages, Frank, we all have baggage. I don’t trust men as far as I can throw them, and with these pipe-cleaners—” She flung her arms wide. “That’s not far at all. But everything you’ve shown me this week says that you will be straight up with me. That’s all I ask. Maybe we should have that old-fashioned conversation about intentions—because I don’t have any beyond getting laid.”
Her words echoed between them as she fell silent.
Getting laid.
He was twisted up about space in his heart and she wanted to use him for his body. What the fuck was wrong with him that he couldn’t see that?
“I don’t have a lot of emotional bandwidth to share,” he said quietly. “But I appreciate the hell out of you. I see you as someone who deserves the moon, and I feel guilty that I can’t be the one to snag it for you.”
“That’s what you feel bad about? Not…” She trailed off.
He shook his head. “Bia wanted me to be happy. To death do us part. That was our vow. I took it well past that point, but I need to start living again.”
“You do.” She smiled softly. “I’m happy to help with that. Fair trade for orgasms.” She straightened up. “I’m going back to bed. If you want to join me, it might be nice to wake up together. And if you need some space, that’s fine too. Of course it is.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “But that was amazing. And I’d happily do it again.”
So would he. He caught her wrist. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t.” She smiled down at him. “Do you want me to wake you up with sex in the morning?”
What kind of a question was that? He pushed to his feet and followed her back to bed.
As promised, he was dragged out of slumber by a whisper and a teasing, light touch of fingers along his jaw.
Bia, his brain thought at first with a confused jolt. Then he remembered, and instead of guilt, he felt a strange floating feeling. He frowned, trying to make sense of it.
“Wake up, Grumpy Pants,” she murmured. “And gently, please.”
He harrumphed. “You just called me grumpy.”
“I like grumpy.” She slid her hand under the blanket, her fingertips spreading that lovely, floaty feeling across his whole body. “Mmm. But I was wrong about the pants. I like this better.”
“You stripped me of those last night. And then…” He cracked his eyelids and focused on her smiling face.
“And then, indeed.” She stroked his thickening length. “And now?”
Now he felt…
Peaceful.
And ready for more of this woman. Immediately.
“Climb on top of me,” he said, his voice rough with need.
“I was thinking of something else.” She wiggled down his body, her breasts brushing his chest, then his thighs as she settled between his legs, the blanket discarded off the end of his bed. “How do you like your blow-jobs?”
“However you want to deliver them,” he said huskily. Was she for real? And were people picky about getting their dicks sucked? Because he was happy for whatever.
“Sloppy, fast, and with some friendly help from my hand.”
“Jesus, do you go out in public with that mouth?” He brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth. “Whatever you want, wildflower. Whatever you want. Please. Anything.”
“You’re babbling, Frank.”
“It’s early. I haven’t had coffee. And you’re kind of blowing my mind.”
“Not yet,” she whispered, her breath brushing the head of his cock. “But I will be in three, two, one…”
And she did.
It was exactly as promised. Sloppy, fast, and with very clever help from her nimble little fingers. He came hard, spurting his come across her tongue before he could warn her it was coming.
She licked her lips like a happy little kitten anyway.
He let out a helpless moan and hauled her back up his body, kissing her hard on her talented mouth before she nestled into his side.
“When I first met you, I thought you were delicate.”
She snorted.
“I get now that that’s not accurate.”
She rolled onto her back and stretched out. He loved how uninhibited she was with her body. With sex and laughter and teasing. She looked at him and shook her head, making her breasts jiggle. “Not accurate at all. You can’t hurt me, Frank. I’m tough as nails.”
“I know,” he whispered, climbing on top of her. The sensitive crown of his cock dragged against her skin, and he thought about staying there until he got hard, thought about fucking her senseless until he could pour himself into her again.
But they had breakfast to get to. A second breakfast, in a way, because he was going to feast on her just as much as she had on him.
And then it would be a countdown until they lost their privacy. His SEAL team would be arriving later today, along with Grace’s daughter. For the rest of the weekend, it would be hands off.
Mouths off.
He dropped his head and tasted the skin at the base of her neck. God, that was going to be hard. He loved the way she tasted in the morning. And at night, after a day in the sun.
From a distant recess of his mind, a warning whispered. Don’t get too close, it said. He licked his way over her chest to her nipples, ignoring the suggestion from a well-meaning but too-cautious part of his brain.
Life was short.
Grace was fun.
He was going to enjoy the hell out of her in the time they had.
He tasted his way down her body, and when he settled between her thighs, he gave her his specialty. Slow, teasing, and worshipful. Her legs wrapped around his head when she came, flooding his mouth with her unique flavour.
And as he pressed his forehead into the crease between her thigh and her hip he realized it was way too late. He was already painfully close to this woman. He was already invested. And at some point this weekend, he’d need to steal a moment of the mother-of-the-bride’s time to talk about his big plans to go down on her again in the middle of a field of lavender.
Chapter 12
The first wedding guests to arrive, mid-morning, were Elaine and Brian Henderson. Wyatt’s parents had driven straight through the night, according to Brian.
“It’s a seventeen hour drive we made in sixteen, didn’t we?” He looked at Elaine, who nodded, then back to Grace.
She didn’t bother to tell them she’d abandoned her car in New Hampshire. She was pretty sure the Hendersons—who were lovely people—wouldn’t find that funny in the least. “That’s impressive,” she said instead. “Do you know Frank?”
“Admiral,” Brian said, holding out his hand. “A pleasure to see you again, sir.”
Oh. So it was like that.
Grace took a tiny step away from Frank. Rear Admiral DeMarco for the rest of the weekend, she supposed.
He gave her a small smile. Yep. And so it began.
The next to arrive were Grady and Priya Mills. They’d met through Tegan and Wyatt two years ago, and also fell in love at camp. Priya was a news producer and Grady was a SEAL. They hadn’t come with the rest of the group flying in from out west, though, because Priya had worked all week in Miami. Grace hugged her tightly. “How are you? I heard you had some flight troubles.”
“All’s well that ends
well. I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Tegan’s so happy. Did you text her that you’d arrived?”
“I did.”
“Good girl.”
Then it was Grady’s turn for a hug. Grace had only met him once before, but she hugged everyone. He was gracious about it.
The last arrival before lunch was Grace’s ex-husband, Charles Bennett, and his new wife of seventeen years. Not really new, but the word had stuck in Grace’s head. As long as she didn’t say it out loud, it was fine.
Frank had drifted away for most of the morning, but as soon as Charles arrived, he was right back at Grace’s side.
He knew she wanted space and wasn’t sure about people seeing them as overly familiar, but damn it, if this man stressed her out, Frank would be there to sooth that wound.
Except Grace and Charles got on just fine. They were pleasant to each other, and not just in tight, careful ways. They had an extended conversation about the illusionist that night, and the rehearsal dinner the next night. Charles asked about the other campers, and Grace reassured him the wedding parties would take place in relative privacy in various places around the camp property.
It was surprisingly healthy.
Frank almost left her to it, but then Charles and his wife excused themselves to go check in to their cabin, and that’s when Frank saw it.
Grace sagged.
Just a little. Just enough for him to notice, and maybe nobody else would. Her ex certainly didn’t, and Frank noticed that the man looked back at Grace.
But Frank saw, and he didn’t like it.
Catching Grace by the hand, he tugged her into the shade beneath a big oak tree. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Yep.”
“Your ex seems pleasant.”
She sighed. “Yeah. Okay, so he’s a handful and I’ve learned how to manage him over the years and that’s exhausting.”
“I thought so.”
“Thank you.”
He glanced around. They were alone. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently. “Lean on me whenever you can this weekend.”
