Hero of My Heart (The McRae Series, Book 5 - Will)

by Teresa Hill

  And he wished he'd been with Amanda when it happened. He hated when things went bad, and he wasn't with her.

  Although, they'd been lucky, getting more time together than he'd thought they would. The teams had been hit by a rash of injuries, nothing major, just enough to force guys back home to recover. Will had been filling in, doing quick deployments here and there rather than tackling long assignments of his own. This was the fourth time he'd left her, the fourth time he'd come home to her. It wasn't getting any easier, leaving her, but there was nothing like having her to come home to.

  After they got out of the car, he hung back so he could call her with a little privacy. The sooner he called her, the sooner he'd get to see her.

  She answered on the first ring. "Will!! Are you here?"

  "Just got out of the car." He was in the covered parking area on the first floor of the small, bay-front condo complex where he lived. "I'll be walking in the door in two minutes. Where are you?"

  "Close," she said.

  "How close?" He wanted her right now, in his arms, her pretty face smiling up at him, and then his mouth on hers. She'd spoiled him, loving him the way she did, showing him what it was like to come home and have a woman like her waiting for him.

  He was heading for the elevator when Mace yelled "Holy shit!" and gave a sharp wolf-whistle.

  "Hello, gorgeous," one of the other guys said.

  "God, I love this country. Prettiest women in the world," said another.

  They had walked out onto the deck overlooking the beach and gotten distracted before they made it upstairs.

  Will and Mace had both bought condos here a few years back when the real estate market tanked, especially vacation property. Hard to beat the location—views of the bay and close enough to the base that they often commuted to work by jogging up the beach. The two others were roommates, renting here.

  Will planned to ignore them and go upstairs, but Mace yelled, "Will, come 'ere. You gotta to see this."

  Will pointed to the phone he was holding to his ear. Hello, on the phone with my own beautiful woman right now.

  Mace, the idiot, grabbed Will anyway and pulled him over to the edge of the deck to see what he was talking about.

  "What are they doing?" Amanda laughed.

  "What they always do. Not even on the ground fifteen minutes, and they're already trying to pick up women."

  She laughed again.

  "There, walking down the beach," Mace said. "Looks like I got here just in time. Stay here, guys. Watch the master work."

  Will glanced up to see in the distance a woman walking down the beach. A leggy blonde in some big, loose cover-up that was full of holes, covering up next to nothing, a white bikini beneath it and a whole lot of tanned skin showing. She was pretty, he noted absently.

  "I've seen enough to know she's way out of your league," Will said.

  "Bet me." Mace was nothing if not confident.

  "I'm done, guys. Don't call me. Don't come knocking on my door, and don't get into any trouble that I have to fix for you," he said, then got back to Amanda. "You never told me. How close are you?"

  "Getting closer with every step I take," she said.

  Something in the way she said it made Will turn back and take one more look at the pretty blonde walking down the beach. She was holding her phone to her ear and, even that far away, he would swear she was smiling at him.

  No way, he thought, as she got closer, and it became clearer with every step she took just how tiny that white bikini was. A white string bikini. He was pretty sure he could see one little bow and that expanse of nothing but string at the side of one of her hips.

  He managed to pull his gaze higher, lingering somehow only for a moment on perfect breasts, not too big and completely natural, covered by tiny white triangles of material and strings. Okay, he might have lingered a little longer than a moment there, but then he looked at her face, at that smile.

  "Holy shit!"

  Amanda laughed again.

  God, he lived to hear her so happy she laughed.

  And he didn't just hear it. He watched her do it.

  "What have you done, Amanda?" he said quietly into the phone as he walked five steps away from the others to talk to her.

  "I needed to work on my tan. My guy goes for that California beach girl look."

  "He goes for you. Just you. I can't believe that's you."

  She was every bit gorgeous enough to wear an outfit like that, but she was still a little uncomfortable about showing that much of her body in public. Even in private, she sometimes wanted most of the lights off. This much skin, even on a quiet beach—he knew it couldn't be easy for her, but this was like her, too. Making a little extra effort to surprise him, indulge him, make him happy.

  "I thought I'd give you a little welcome home present," she said. "What do you think?"

  "That I'm going to have to drag Mace and the two other guys out of here before you get any closer. Mace is drooling like a puppy, and the other two are going to cry like little girls when they find out they have no chance with the beautiful blonde on the beach."

  "Tell Mace I said hi."

  Will disconnected the call and walked over to the three men, who were still laughing and taking bets on which one of them would be the guy to go home with her.

  "All right, clear out, guys. Nothing for you to see here," Will said.

  "Jesus, are you blind? Look at her," Mace said.

  "Yeah. She's mine."

  "Bullshit, you've got a woman," Mace said.

  "I know. And that's her. Take one more look—a quick one—and get the hell out of here, before I have to hurt you."

  They stood there dumbstruck and so disappointed. The two younger guys shot him a look of pure disgust.

  "No way," one of them said.

  "Why the hell not?" he shot back.

  "Nothing, Master Chief. I didn't mean a thing."

  Yeah, he knew what they meant. He had ten years on both of them, felt every friggin' one of those years at times, and she was perfect.

  As Sam had said, sometimes the universe was incredibly kind and sent a beautiful, sweet, kind, loving woman like her to a guy like him.

  Mace still looked astonished. "That's Amanda?"

  Will nodded and grinned.

  "You are the luckiest damned man alive," Mace said.

  "Don't I know it."

  Because she kept showing up here, whenever he was here, happy to see him, laughing, holding him, loving him. It was an amazing thing to experience, easy and wonderful and effortless.

  She had said she'd show him what it was like to love someone, and she did, every minute they were together. How could any sane man not want this?

  He'd stopped waiting for her to get over him and find someone else. He'd stopped worrying about her father and what he thought. He'd stopped thinking about her trust fund, which she was happily using to establish a foundation to provide tutoring for kids in foster care so their often chaotic lives wouldn't make them fall behind in school. She said her mother would be happy to have the money do something like that.

  Will was ready to discount completely the twelve years between them and the fact that he'd turned forty during this last deployment. Both things had been painful, but if she didn't care, he wasn't going to, either.

  At first, he'd been mildly hopeful she'd be here when he got back, then wildly hopeful. Finally, he just knew she would be. He stopped wondering at it, stopped being surprised by it. What a feeling, to know she'd be here, happy to see him, smiling, running into his arms. The condo would be stocked with provisions, and they'd go inside and not come out for three days straight, catching up with each other. Who wouldn't want to come home to that?

  She didn't run to him this time. She was putting on a show for him, walking slowly, giving him ample time to watch. The closer she got, the more stunning she looked. That silly beach cover-up thing hid nothing. He was a Navy guy. To him, it looked like nothing but a loose collection of thin r
ope, knotted strategically just enough to stay together. It left big, square holes all over the place that he or anyone else could see right through.

  See through to miles of pretty, tanned skin, shown off to perfection by that tiny white string bikini.

  He'd seen her on this beach before, playing in the water, sunning herself, but never in anything as skimpy as this outfit.

  The bikini and that thing she had on over it was for him.

  She laughed again, and he focused on her shiny lips. Cherry gloss, he'd bet. She knew he loved to kiss every bit of it off of her. He could see her freckles. She took off her big sunglasses, and he could see delight sparkling in her eyes along with the biggest smile on her face.

  "Hello, gorgeous," he said, as she finally walked into his arms, and suddenly everything seemed so right in his world, he could hardly stand it.

  He bent down to kiss her, had to force himself to go slow and not devour her on a public beach, especially not with her wearing as little as she was when he'd been away for a whole month. But the elevator and his bed seemed so far away. So he gave himself a taste of her soft, sweet lips and then pulled away, just enough to look at her.

  "Damn," he said. "You look like a present—the best present ever—and I want to unwrap you very slowly, but I'm not sure I have the self-control. Of course, I think that's one of those games I can't lose. Fast or slow, I win. I can't figure out what I want to take off you first."

  She grinned.

  He tested one piece of the rope thing between two of his fingers. Yarn? No, tougher than yarn. "What is this thing?"

  "A beach cover-up."

  "Honey, it doesn't cover up a thing. It makes you look even closer to being naked."

  "I know. Happy birthday, Will. You've been a very bad boy for not telling me it was your birthday."

  "Sorry. It's not one of those birthdays a man feels like celebrating, especially when his girlfriend is all of twenty-eight."

  "Well, if you don't feel like celebrating, I could go put on something else—"

  "No, no, no. That's not what I meant. Not at all. I love my present. I have to say, it's the nicest one anybody has ever given me." One of the few he'd ever received, but he wasn't going to tell her that. It was all in the past. She was his future, this amazing woman. "So, you put it on. I get to take it off, right?"

  She nodded.

  Or do her in it, he thought wickedly.

  In part of it, he decided.

  "We need to go inside," he said. "Now."

  He rushed her to the condo, got her in the door and then carried her with her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on her hips, laughing as they went. When he set her down on the vanity in the bathroom, she started the water running, to get it hot, because he needed to shave before he got serious about showing her how much he missed her. Otherwise, he'd scruff up that pretty skin of hers. They'd learned that the first time she'd been here to welcome him home.

  She shook the can of shaving cream and delicately smeared it over his face while he stroked her hair, her face, her mouth with his fingertips, and then he went to work with the razor while she ran her hands down his chest, found the bottom of his T-shirt and started pushing it up to find the skin beneath, like she couldn't wait to touch him.

  Her hand slid down the waistband of his cargo pants, and he nearly cut his nose off.

  "Careful," she said, laughing.

  "While you have your hand in my pants?"

  "You're supposed to have a steady hand and great powers of concentration."

  "Baby, I'm not that good." He pulled her hand away while he tried to finish shaving.

  She bit gently on his earlobe.

  He swore softly. Two more swipes of the razor, and he was done. He rinsed his face and barely toweled it off. Then he grabbed her, pushing her knees apart with his legs. He palmed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the vanity, then settled his hips in the V of her legs and nestled his cock against her through their clothes.

  "Mmm," she groaned.

  He peeled off his T-shirt and threw it on the floor, then leaned his shoulders back to give himself a really good look at her. "Jesus, are you sure you didn't give anybody a heart attack in this outfit?"

  "Pretty sure. No one collapsed."

  "I still might."

  "Oh, I think you can handle it."

  He shook his head thinking, so pretty, all this gorgeous skin and the curves and strings and those eyes of hers, that mouth, her hands, slipping beneath his waistband again, this time to cup his hips and pull him more tightly against her. He was already throbbing. If he took off his pants and briefs, he'd be inside her in two seconds flat, but he so wanted to enjoy this little show she'd put on for him.

  "You look so hot," he said, "and your skin is hot. You're hot all over." The sun had touched nearly every inch of her, and her skin still held its warmth. It felt incredible.

  "I told you, I had to work on my tan."

  He looked through the see-through non-cover-up to the little bikini, to the strings, the bow ties that were the only thing holding it on her body.

  "Honey, if I asked you very nicely, as a favor to me, not to wear this in public, ever again, would you think I was being unreasonable or too controlling?" he asked.

  She gave him a beautiful smile, "Will, it's just for you. I bought it for you, and I'm not going to wear it for anyone but you."

  "In that case, I love it." His hand toyed with the rope of the non-cover-up, tracing the inside of the big openings, one on her shoulder, one high on the swell of her breast, three on her abdomen, as she leaned back on the vanity until her head and shoulders rested against the mirror.

  Her skin trembled at his touch and the little muscles of her abdomen tightened. So much beautiful skin bared to him, he could hardly take it all in.

  "I want to trace the inside of every square," he told her.

  "Whatever you want," she said, but she wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust gently against him with her hips as she said it, reminding him what was waiting for him when he stopped playing around and got serious about having her.

  He groaned and let his forehead fall to her shoulder as he felt her heat and the way she nestled against his cock. He wanted her so bad. He put an arm around her waist and lifted her up just enough that she wasn't sitting on that ridiculous cover-up anymore. She laughed as his other hand tunneled up under it, up her back, and found the strings holding her top on. He tugged until the little bows were gone and the strings separated. Then his hands came to her front, pulled the bikini top out from beneath the cover-up and threw it on the floor.

  And then—holy shit—he could see almost every bit of her perfect breasts pushing against the rope mesh, her nipples bunched up and popping out through the holes in the cover-up.

  His mouth found one, then the other, stroking with his tongue and then sucking hard. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he lifted her again, pulling the strings on the bikini bottoms, and then they were gone, too. As he eased her back down on the vanity, he was sinking deep inside of her, watching her face as he did it, so trusting, that little smile, the way her breath came out in a rush.

  "Mmm," she said, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "Welcome home, sailor."

  * * *

  He still had to be careful with her. She still had nightmares, but not as often. He tried to always sleep on his side, facing away from her, not wanting to risk pinning her down and scaring her.

  But that was fine, because she loved to sleep curled up to his back, most nights naked with her breasts pressed against his shoulders and her arm around his waist, while he held her hand against his abdomen.

  And if he wanted to hold her, he'd just stay awake while he did it, and look at her and stroke her gently until she woke up,

  He hadn't done that this time. He was just awake watching her, thinking about how perfect she was, how amazing, how different his life was with her in it, how happy he was.

  She woke up and caught him looking,
gave him a slow, sleepy smile and then a little kiss.

  "Is it morning?"

  "Not yet. Almost." A soft pink light was starting to come through the blinds on the window facing the beach.

  "Hungry?" she asked.

  "No, baby. I'm fine."

  "Will?"

  She knew him too well.

  "Want to go out to the balcony and watch the sun come up?"

  She agreed, stealing his white T-shirt—and nothing else—to put on. It hung halfway down her thighs. He pulled on his boxers. The balcony was high enough off the ground that no one could see what they were wearing below waist-level, anyway.

  He pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her, not wanting her to be cold in the wind coming off the bay this early in the morning. They went out onto the balcony.

  It was a beautiful morning. The stars were still out, and it was quiet save for the birds calling to each other and the roar of the tide coming in. No sun yet, just a narrow band of pink light extending across the horizon where the sun would pop up before long.

  He'd had two chairs out here, but Amanda wanted to be closer to him, so she'd bought a little outdoor love seat. He sat at one end, and she snuggled up against him, wrapped in her blanket, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her.

  He tried to imagine the luxury of being able to greet every new day like this with her, and knew exactly what he wanted to do this morning, what he wanted to ask her.

  "I missed you," he said. "I miss feeling you curled up asleep against my back and being able to roll over and see you, hold you, kiss you."

  "I missed you, too."

  "This is going well, right? You and me? You're happy?"

  She smiled. "Yes, I'm very happy."

  "And that you-loving-me-thing? That's good for you? Because it's amazing for me. Best thing I've ever had. I hope I make you feel that way, as good as you make me feel. I hope you're as happy as I am."

  "I think I'm every bit as happy as you are, Will."

  Good. All good so far.