21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (101 page)

Seated deep within her, he stilled and checked her with a look. “Still okay?”

“Yes.” The whispered word came out a plea and he smiled, a heart-stopping, brilliant grin, and began to thrust in and out of her.

“Come again, baby.” He stroked her clit, never ceasing his rhythm, and she came again and again, sobbing his name, one orgasm crashing into another. His hips pistoned, and thrust harder, but he seemed ever aware of her, stroking her, teasing her, heightening her pleasure and when he found his release in hot jet of heat, he called her name against her mouth and kissed her.

I love him so much
…. The thought tumbled in her mind, riding the whirlpool of pleasure.
So much
….

***

Loving her was easier from several thousand miles away. There, he didn’t have to witness her simmering irritation when he came in from a run carrying a cup of coffee. There, he didn’t know how often she woke in the middle of the night, or that spooning wasn’t her favorite way to sleep. But there he also didn’t get to indulge himself in the softness of her body or give her foot rubs when she came in after a particularly long shift. He couldn’t deliver food to her or get to know her co-workers.

So maybe loving her from afar seemed easier, but it was nowhere near as satisfying. She loved the tree. And he even managed to coax her into buying some decorations for it—including one photo frame that boasted a miniaturized likeness of their sonogram. Baby bump still didn’t have any interest in sharing his or her gender. The baby played shy with his or her legs always closed or turned away. Paul enjoyed the anticipation, Lillianna not so much.

She was a planner.

“So what do you think of Michael?” He fixed dinner—well, he’d grabbed carryout from Damon’s restaurant. His idea of cooking consisted of anything made on a grill or take-out.

“I dated a Michael. No.” She didn’t eat properly, picking at her food and pushing it around on the plate rather than eating it. “Jackson?”

“Jackson Torres.” He tried the name.

“Hansen.” She corrected.

And there they went again. “Torres,” he repeated patiently. “I like Danniella, for a girl.”

“Then someone would call her Dani. I’m not a big fan of nicknames.” She shifted in the chair and he recognized the pinch of her eyebrows.

“You don’t mind when I call you Lily. Back hurt?” He rose and fetched the pillow off the sofa and eased it between her back and the hard chair.

“A little.” But her grimace betrayed the lie. He paused and gave her a hard stare, and she relented. “Okay, a lot. I’m not really hungry, maybe I’m just tired. And I like when you call me Lily.”

“Maybe, but you should still eat something. I can get you something else if you don’t like the fish.” Maybe he should have run the meal plan past her first.

“No, the fish is fine. In fact, I’m sure it tastes great. But it was a long day….”

“And your last one, right? You’re on leave now?” She had enough vacation time accrued to take off through the first of the year. The policy at her hospital allowed her a pre-maternity and a post-delivery leave. Which meant even though the baby wasn’t due for another six weeks, she had time off.

“Yes, I’m on leave. Signed the last papers today, I’m off work until April.”

“April.” He frowned. “That’s not a lot of recovery time.”

“Six weeks is more than enough and you’re presuming this kid is going to stay on some kind of predictable schedule. Babies tend to do whatever they want.” She grimaced again and glared at her stomach. “And kicking me isn’t helping your case.”

Paul laid his hand against her belly immediately. Since arriving, the baby had been pretty quiet. He’d only noticed some movement when she slept, and he was eager for the experience. When the little one thumped his hand through the belly, he grinned. “Hello there. Nice high five.”

Lily laughed. “I think that was his foot.” But the tension knitting her brows together relaxed.

“Okay, then maybe he can be a kicker for the football team.”

“Or she can be a prima ballerina.”

He’d miss talking to her—playing with her. The sobering thought kicked him square in the gut. He didn’t want to miss it. If she’d just agree with him—it would solve so much. Glancing up, he locked gazes with her. “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question.

“We’ve talked about this.” She glanced away.

“No, you’ve talked about it. You’ve given me a lot of excuses, but no real reasons. I know you’re life is here, but that doesn’t mean it’s set in cement.”

“No, it doesn’t. But I bounced around my entire childhood. I never knew where we would go next. We didn’t have any control of Dad’s assignments. I didn’t grow up in a neighborhood where everyone knew my name, I grew up in an Army where everyone moved when they were told, went to states and bases and countries they may never have heard of, and we had no say in the matter. No one took into account who my friends were or what I liked to do—if the Army said go, we went.” Tears filled her eyes. “I love my dad, I love that he loves his country, and I have always been proud of him. But Paul, I hated that. I hated not having a place to call mine, a place I could settle in and establish roots.”

Still kneeling, he covered her hands with his. “I get that. But if you stay here and I go, we’re apart. How is that fair?”

She bit her lip and gone was the sassy, tough nurse who handled everything and all that remained was the vulnerable mom-to-be. His heart fisted in his chest. “I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

Well, that was something. “You know kids don’t get to choose their families. They’re born into them. I know you didn’t like all the moving, and I can’t promise you that we won’t have to. I’m in Germany right now. I was in Afghanistan a year ago, Iraq before that. I’ve been assigned all over the world. I go where they need me. It’s who I am. But I want to be your husband, too.”

Sighing, Lily touched his face and he leaned his cheek into her gentle fingers. “Paul, we’re having a baby…I love having you here. I look forward to talking to you. But is that enough to make a marriage? Won’t you eventually resent me?” She swallowed hard. “Or worse, what if I end up resenting you?”

Discomfort rippled across her face and he touched her belly again. The baby seemed to be kicking more. “I can’t say it won’t happen. Because I can’t see the future. No one can promise you that. Happily ever after isn’t something that happens, it’s something you work for—together.” He believed that. He was raised with two parents who argued, loudly, and made up just as fiercely. They weren’t perfect, they made mistakes, they adjusted, and they grew together. He wanted that for himself.

He wanted Lily.

“But you’re tired.” It wasn’t a question. The baby’s size made her more uncomfortable by the day and he’d been there a week and already saw it. “So—let’s do this. We’re going to get you comfortable, you pick the movie and I’ll clean and then give you a foot rub.”

Her smile softened and she shook her head. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong answer.” He leaned in and kissed her hard. “I don’t deserve you. That’s why you’re making me work so hard.” Rising, he helped her out of the chair and gave her bottom a light smack. “Go. Get comfy and figure out what you want to watch.”

And let me figure out how to convince you that we’re right together
…. His time ran short. Two weeks was nowhere near enough time to make his case.
Deal with the situation in front of you, like Luke says. This is the situation. This is what I do
.

***

Christmas morning turned magical. She’d noticed and watched curiously as the boxes waiting in her dining room vanished and mysteriously reappeared as wrapped presents under the tree. And there were a lot of them. Curiosity nibbled on her, but she focused her attention on Paul and not the presents. The last two weeks had been a small miracle.

The man was invested in every part of her life. They went to a Christmas party together at Mike’s Place. Surrounded by his friends and fellow Marines, she thought she’d be out of place—but no one allowed her that. They welcomed her like she belonged there.

Paul apparently conspired with Rebecca for her baby shower, too. He delivered her to the location and picked her up, packing in all the presents. They had a crib, a decorated room for the baby, and everything she would need for the first few months.

The night he put it all together, she’d never laughed so hard in her life. But he wasn’t perfect. Mentally, she’d ticked off the list—he snored. He used all the hot water in the shower. He loved to cuddle. He never let her do anything if he got to it first.

Yeah, his flaws are the suck
….

But at his core, he remained a Marine. The clock ticking down on their time together thudded with every beat of her heart. It didn’t matter how much fun they were having, he had to leave right after the first to report to his duty station in Germany. He would leave.

And she would be there alone, with the baby still due.

And that’s what I want to do
. But it wasn’t. No matter how much she couldn’t reconcile herself to the nomadic lifestyle again, her stationary home held even less appeal…because Paul wouldn’t be in it.

Nothing made that plainer than waking alone on Christmas morning and seeing a stocking propped on the nightstand next to the bed. A beautiful rose poked out of the top of it and with an eagerness she hadn’t experienced since she was a baby, she pulled the stocking over and peeked inside.

The rose had a bracelet wrapped around it. Beneath that were two novels she’d mentioned liking, a copy of the Bourne movie they’d watched on Skype, and a homemade Dummies Guide to Loving a Marine.

Setting aside all the others, she flipped open the cover on the notebook and read the inscription.

Apparently there’s a project going on at Mike’s Place where all the spouses and significant others have been swapping stories. Rebecca asked them to put this together for you, so you’d know exactly what you’re getting into. Apparently being a military brat is different from being a military wife. I want you to have all the facts.

Your Marine, Paul

A tear splashed the back of her hand. Each page included a note or a letter from a Marine’s significant other. Some were just lists, others went deeper. Some had been military brats, and some like Rebecca were made widows before they were wives, abandoned by the love of their life for duty and country. But Rebecca added some key details to the story that Lillianna knew so well.

I get that this isn’t the life for everyone. But Luke didn’t give me a choice in it. I would trade every empty year without him for deployments, homecomings, and the worry in between. The choice of being there for someone you love is as important as the job they do being there for our country. It’s not the easiest road, but it’s far from the loneliest.

She didn’t know how long she sat reading, every story gripping her. The artist who waited for her boyfriend, the attorney who wasn’t sure if she could commit to a life that might involve having to say goodbye, the best friend who would take on anything if it meant staying with the man he loved, and the retired Marine husbands who were in similar positions. The status of being a spouse came with its own unique challenges and benefits, but they didn’t believe they were alone—ever. Because they kept the home fires burning together—a private club where they understood the trials and the tasks and helped the new arrivals ease into that life.

Climbing out of bed, she carried the book into the living room. Paul sat next to the tree, staring at it with the most thoughtful of expressions. She padded across the room and slid onto his lap and he adjusted immediately, helping her find a comfortable spot and wrapping his arm around her.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured.

“I love you.”

He smiled slowly. “I love you.”

Her heart pinged in her chest. “Do you really think we can do this?” She held up the book. The look on his face melted her.

He nodded. “I know we can. I know I don’t want to go back without you.”

“I thought we were just a wedding fling.” That’s what she’d told herself when it got too hard.

“You were never a one-night stand for me, or any kind of fling. I spent four months trying to figure out how to see you again when you called and told me you were pregnant. I haven’t touched another woman since you and I don’t want to. You’re my girl.” He rubbed her lower back. “Marry me.”

“You never give up.” A quiet sense of awe filled her. His confidence and charm were the facets that attracted her in the first place, but they filled her with an inexplicable comfort and sense of security.

“Nope. You see, good things come to those who know to go and damn well get them. You’re the best thing to happen to me since the Marines. So, I’m telling you. You’re going to marry me. It’s just a matter of when.”

“Well, when you put it like that…what do you think of New Year’s Eve?” She couldn’t stop her lips from twitching.

Paul whooped. “Sold.” He kissed her and she melted into him, holding on for dear life because she was throwing her hat into the deep end. Pressing his forehead to hers, he murmured. “I love you, Lillianna Hansen-soon-to-be-Torres, forever and ever. Marry me.”

She knew an order when she heard one. And this time, she wouldn’t break the rules. “Yes.”

“You can do this.” Paul held fast to his wife’s hand. They’d had her take the wedding ring off when they checked into the hospital, and it hung on a chain around his neck with his dog tags.

Lillianna leaned forward, her face straining as she howled her way through another contraction. “I hate you,” she murmured and sagged back, panting.

“Me, too,” he agreed cheerfully. “Ready? It’s time for another one?” Her water broke as he’d walked in the door from class, and he applauded their child’s effort to wait for him to get there. He’d never moved so fast in his life to get her to a hospital. They’d been in Germany just five weeks. They also had to promise their respective parents a bigger wedding sometime later in the year, but the justice of the peace who married them on New Year’s Eve was fine by him.