ROMANCE: Romantic Comedy: Love in 30 Days - The Best Plans Don't Always Work! (Plus 19 FREE Books Book 13) (27 page)

Chapter 5

West wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unsure of what to do. Shelley slowly curled her body up, nestled onto the couch like a child. Finally, he started to gather up his clothes and dress himself, wondering whether he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

He went to the door, but on his lips he could still feel the taste and the pressure of hers. He paused with one hand on the handle, then swore under his breath and went back to the lounge. She was still lying there, crying almost silently.

He rushed to her side and knelt down, pulling her towards him. Almost to his surprise, she eagerly rolled his way, burying her face in his chest and his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, and he stroked her hair, trying to shush her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he whispered, but it was not West she was apologizing to.

“I’m sorry, John,” she cried, and he gripped her all the harder.

He ended up staying the night, helping her to bed and falling asleep in a cushioned chair in the bedroom, watching her toss and turn in her dreams. She woke a few times in the night, and he was there to stroke her hair and stop her crying again.

In the morning, West woke to find the bed empty, Shelley gone. He looked for her in the kitchen and found breakfast waiting for him, bacon and eggs prepared as the perfect antidote to a headache that pounded between his ears. She was already eating hers, swathed in her satin robe again and almost unable to meet his eyes.

“Last night,” he said, once the breakfast had been eaten in silence.

“Don’t,” Shelley whispered, then sighed. She knew as well as he did that they both needed to talk about it. “I can’t believe we let it happen.”

“We both had a lot to drink,” West offered, placing his palms flat on the table in front of him.

“Don’t try to explain it away,” she cut in, closing her eyes and shuddering. “Don’t make an excuse. It was real and it happened and I think we both want it to happen again.”

There was a pause; West studied his hands very closely, looking at the scar on the back of his left thumb from the time he and John had decided it was a good idea to try and hitch a ride on the back of a lorry on skateboards.

He cleared his throat. “You’re right,” he said.

“But I can’t do this, West,” she said. “I need you to leave and stay with your family. I need you to let me alone to deal with this. I can’t wait here for you like I waited for John.”

West noted that his fingernails could probably benefit from being clipped a little, and drew his hands off the table to hide them. “I need to know that you’ll have someone looking out for you.”

“I’ll call my sister,” Shelley said. “Admit to her that I need help for a while. She’ll get me back on my feet.”

West nodded slowly. Their eyes hadn’t met all morning. Maybe it was easier that way. “Are you afraid of betraying John?” he asked, though his best judgement would have been to get up and go in silence.

“No,” she said, sniffling over her plate. “We’ve already done that.”

West let the weight of those words sink in, feeling them ache in his heart. “Then what?” he asked.

“I’m afraid of falling in love with another man who will die in combat,” she said, and abruptly got up. She walked out of the kitchen without another word. West heard her heading up the stairs, and figured it was probably best for both of them if he left instead of following her.

West went home, showered and changed, and tried to avoid his parents’ well-meaning but obvious questions about where he had been all night. He went out to the bar down the road and sat on his own in a corner booth, hoping that no one would try to talk to him.

For a while, it worked. He was not really interested in having a drink; the point was to be alone with his thoughts, to try and clear up everything that had happened between them. He wanted to kick something really hard. Most of all, he wanted there to be a way that all of this could turn out alright.

Days and nights passed, but still West could do nothing but think about Shelley. The touch of her lips had been maddening, the feel of her body a memory that left him sweating in his dreams. He wanted to see her again, to talk with her at least. Maybe if they sorted all of this out, it would be alright again. Maybe he could forget about her if they put the whole situation to bed.

Finally, he plucked up his courage, around a week after the last time he had seen her. West dressed smartly, trying not to overthink it, and went over to the house.

He knocked on the door with his heart in his throat, and stood there waiting. For an awful moment he thought that she might not answer the door at all. The image of John’s grave flashed up in his mind without him calling it, and the look on his friend’s face after he had been shot. He was almost about to turn around and go home again when the door opened.

Shelley looked good. She had clean and tidy hair, tucked behind one of her ears the way she always used to wear it. Her clothes were neat and fit her well, and her skin was clear. Even the bags under her eyes were almost gone. She looked him up and down with an expression almost of resignation, as if she had always expected him to be there.

“Well,” she said, stepping to one side. “I guess you’d better come in.”

Chapter 6

They sat down at the table in the kitchen, a steaming cup of coffee each cradled in their hands. The room was clean and fresh, and when Shelley opened the cupboards to get the coffee jar down West had seen that they were stocked with food.

“Your sister helped you out a lot,” he noted, looking around.

Shelley hesitated. “I never called my sister,” she admitted. “I just… kept pretending I couldn’t look after myself so you’d keep coming round.”

West moved his coffee cup around on the table, scraping the bottom across the wood. “You could have just told me,” he said.

“Told you what?” she asked. There were tears in her eyes again. “Told you that I think I’m falling for the best friend of my dead husband not a month after he’s been put in the ground?”

West shifted in his seat and placed his hand over hers. “Don’t say it like that,” he said.

“Why?” she burst out. “That’s how it is! John’s funeral was a month ago and we’re sitting here like – like… Oh god, in his own home…”

West shook his head vehemently. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not. John sent me to look after you. And you know things between us have a long history.”

“What are people going to say?” Shelley asked, not seeming to hear his last words.

“They won’t say anything,” West said firmly, gripping her hand tightly. “Look. It’s like this. We’re two friends both grieving over someone we loved. But we’ve been friends a long time, and things happen when you’re that way. Do you think John wanted us to spend the rest of our lives miserable?”

“No,” Shelley sniffed, starting to come around to his point.

“You and I are the only people who really knew him,” West said. “The people who loved him most. Hell, I was closer to him than my own sister. He was my brother in everything but blood.”

“But you don’t up and sleep with your brother’s wife after he’s dead,” Shelley shook her head, inconsolable. “What we’re doing is wrong.”

“It’s not wrong,” West insisted. “It’s just fast. We need to take some time to let things settle down. I’m going away again soon, anyway. We need to take the time to see how things pan out by themselves.”

Shelley considered this for a while, mulling it over in her head. “How long do you have?” she asked.

“Not long,” he sighed. “But I think that might be for the best. Maybe it’ll give us both some time to cool our heads. Now I know you’ll be able to look after yourself without me, I’ll find it easier.”

“I really can,” she affirmed, tucking her hair back behind her ear where it had fallen forward. “It’s hard to know that John is gone forever. But I spent a lot of time here on my own while he was away. I’ll just go on living, the same as before. The only difference is I’m not waiting for him to come back.”

West nodded, and then gave a short laugh. “To be honest, you’re probably going to cope better than me,” he said, smiling wryly. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it without him at my back. As much as I trust the other guys in the troop, I’d never be able to rely on them the way I did on him.”

Shelley smiled back. “You’re right, what you said,” she said. “We’re the only two people who really knew how wonderful he was.”

West paused, and said quietly, “That’s why I didn’t put up a fight when he said he wanted you, back then. I thought he’d be the better man for you.”

“You were right,” Shelley said, and squeezed his hand to show she didn’t mean it as an insult. “But he’s gone now, and the two of us have to figure out a way to go on living all the same.”

West spent a couple of brief weeks at home, visiting Shelley every few days and trying to find a way for their lives to intersect that wasn’t painful or too emotionally charged. It was difficult, but what they had to do was get to know each other again. Not as John’s Wife and John’s Best Friend, but as themselves, with John taken out of the equation entirely. It was certainly not the kind of thing that would ever be easy, or done in a short space of time, but it was a start.

Then it was time for him to leave. With his family around him at the airfield once again, West felt a strange mixture of emotions. He felt blessed to have people he loved and who loved him, and to have a job that he was good at. He also felt afraid of what it was going to be like without John. For the first time, he was even unsure of whether he was going to come back or not. Death was a given in his line of work – it was just that until now, he had always associated that death with anyone else but him.

He got on the plane and looked out of the window. He touched the dog tags around his neck, and thought about the ones he had carried this way a short time ago. They were hanging up from a peg in Shelley’s kitchen now, a memory of a man who was always going to be better than he could ever be. At least from now on, he might just have a reason to try.

Chapter 7

West stood on the doorstep, expectantly waiting for a response to his knock. A flurry of footsteps inside let him know that the excitement he felt was not his alone, and the door opened before he had barely had time to take a breath.

Shelley was there, beautiful in a white cotton dress and with her hair cut in a new style. She looked fresh and clean, and healthy. She was everything he had been dreaming about and more.

They were both breathless, cheeks rosy with excitement, as he came inside the door and walked through to the lounge with her. It was a bright and airy space now, the curtains open to let in the light that had been missing before. West could see that she was healing. He was glad – and not just for his own sake. For the sake of John, who would have always wanted the woman he loved to be happy, whether he was around or not.

“I’ve missed you,” West admitted, as they sat with a glass of wine on the couch.

“Me, too,” Shelley said, biting back a shy smile. “I’m glad that you came back in one piece.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be thinking of me,” West said. “Six months is a long time.”

“I didn’t stop,” Shelley told him.

“Me, either,” he said, putting his wine down on the table.

She looked at him for a moment, and they both knew that they understood all that needed to be understood – had said all that needed to be said. Shelley nodded, and he nodded back.

“I think it’s what John would have wanted, in the end,” she said.

“You’re probably right,” West nodded.

They looked at each other for a moment longer, exploring the truth in that statement, and then Shelley leaned forward to kiss him. He kissed her back, and without missing a heartbeat, the passion that had taken ahold of them before was back. They wanted each other, badly – this time without the anger that had threatened to overwhelm everything. This time it was only the desire and love for each other, and mixed alongside it, the determination to honor John’s memory the only way they really knew how.

Just as before, they pulled at each other’s clothes, tossing them to the floor. They moved up the stairs, kissing and touching one another, scattering things behind them. West’s shirt was flung onto the couch, his belt abandoned in the doorway. Shelley’s dress fell to the hall, and West’s jeans untangled from his legs before they started on the stairs.

This time there was a tenderness between them too, a fondness born of six months of waiting and wishing. Six months of deciding that this, here and now, was what they really wanted. Six months of praying that they would be given the chance to see each other again, and knowing with incontrovertible proof that all it took to destroy that dream was one solitary bullet.

Shelley’s bra was lost on the landing, and then they were in the bedroom, where West could explore her body again. Like discovering a land that was at once familiar and new, he ran his hands over every inch of her, feeling the pertness of her breasts and the curve of her waist.

Shelley kissed her way from his mouth to his neck to his chest, then down until she could grasp his underwear in both hands and pull it out of the way. He returned the favor and pushed her to the bed, gently, letting her sit and then pushing her legs apart.

She was almost about to ask him what he was doing, but when he kneeled in front of her and put his head between her legs it became clear all on its own. He moved his tongue skillfully, a technique he’d been taught by one of his old brief flings in-between deployments. He knew it was good when Shelley grabbed hold of his shoulders and then his head, as if she could hold him there forever.

She writhed underneath him as he licked, flicked, and slowly traced arcs with his tongue, taking his time to understand what she enjoyed the most. Finally, she was reaching a fever pitch, unable to stand it any longer, and she pulled him up to the bed with her.

“I need you,” she half-whispered, breathy from the pleasure and desperate for more.

He grinned, and kissed her as he carefully moved above her, sliding in-between her legs again and positioning himself to start. He hesitated then, teasing her; only when she whimpered in protest did he give in to what he wanted just as much, guiding himself with one hand to hit his mark the first time.

He was slow and gentle as he eased into her, but he could have thrown caution to the wind; she was ready for him, wet and open. It felt like heaven to the both of them, something that had been so long in coming. He started to thrust, fast, the friction between their bodies building up to almost unbearable pleasure. She cried out on every stroke, unable to stop herself, the sound pushed out of her through the intensity of the sensations that run over her whole body. He put his hands on her breasts and leaned down to kiss her, their tongues dancing in time with their hips.

He lifted her legs, placing each of her ankles on his shoulders, and carried on, holding tight to her thighs as he used all of his strength to move faster and harder. Her cries grew louder, more intense, and her hands curled into fists on the duvet. Handfuls of fabric tethered her to the world, and he pumped into and out of her until he could barely see straight. The sound of her voice and the joy in it was almost more than he could handle, and she too was just on the tip of falling over the edge, trying to make it last longer. At last they were both ready, and as she came she called out his name. That and the sensation of her body’s delight were enough to push him over the edge, too, the feeling taking over everything until his vision cleared again. He hardly wanted to move; being inside her felt like the place where he was always meant to be. At last he pulled out, earning another groan from her still sensitive flesh, and flopped down on the bed to lay beside her.

They lay awake, resting after their exertion but still aware of each other, arms wrapped lazily together. West counted the leaves on the floral-patterned shade on the ceiling light, and Shelley traced a figure of eight on the back of his hand with her fingertips.

“Yes,” West said, after a while had passed in silence. “I think this is what John would have wanted, in the end.”

“We’ll give it a try,” Shelley said, lifting her hand so that she could see her wedding ring and testing to see how loose it was.

“Because the two people who loved him most deserve to be able to love each other too,” West said, half to himself, feeling something inside of him shift and become whole again.

*** THE END ***

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Book Nine

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POWER & PASSION

By Jane Keeler

Chapter 1

Alex was a passionate man.  He both loved and hated with passion. It was particularly cold that night when he went out to jog. There was something about the dark, empty streets at night that gave him a sense of peace. This was the time when he gathered himself, thought about the events of the day and strategized for the next day. He was the Mayor of San Francisco and therefore, could not avoid being surrounded by guards all the time. So whenever he went jogging, he was followed by at least two security officers who had to be in perfect shape to make sure they did not lose when he went on his jogs. Alex’s favorite was Timothy, or Tim, as Alex liked to call him.

“It’s quite chilly outside tonight boys. You think you are up for it?” Alex asked playfully to the security officers that were getting ready to go out with him tonight.

“Yes, Sir!” said all the guards in unison. “We were trained for this.”

“Alright then, let’s do this!” Alex exclaimed.

They were well into the rhythm of the jog when Alex’s phone rang. Tim ran up to him and showed him the phone indicating that it was ringing and that Alex needed to get the earphones out of his ears and attend the call.

“Who is it?” asked Alex as he removed his earphones.

“It reads “Emma” on the phone.” Tim said.

“Oh shoot. Give me the phone!” Alex said nervously.

“Hello Emma! I’m out for a jog right now. I’ll take a rain check for tonight. Can I get back to you with a different time later on?” Alex asked the caller on the other side of the phone.

Tim did not hear what the caller said after that, but Alex hung up, put on his earphones and went right back to his job. For Tim, this was not uncommon. Alex had a lot of admirers and a lot of people had vested interests in him. After all, he was one of the youngest Mayor of SF and a lot was expected from him in the future.

Emma was the Managing Director of Bywater and Company – a PR firm. Alex had hit a roadblock with the opening of a new Children’s Park in the downtown area. There was an area near the mall which was lying vacant for a number of years. The mall had come up at a place where a Children’s Park used to exist and Alex planned on using the vacant area near the mall to re-open the park. Alex needed good PR to make this project seem like a political message for the betterment of the society. Emma had promised him a younger new person to replace the PR executive that was working with Alex earlier, who had suddenly started taking uncalled leaves, coming late and leaving early.

Alex came back home after the jog to have a light dinner of soup and salad and go to sleep early tonight. He liked eating alone and had grown so accustomed to it that he hated having to eat in front of other people. Once dinner was over, he watched football on the TV for a while before calling it a night. He had to wake up early tomorrow and there was a lot of work to be done.

It was a bright Monday morning when Eva walked into the Bywater office. Eva was a bright management graduate who had just joined Bywater, to pursue a career in PR. Emma had asked her to come in early so that she could speak to her about company policies and complete all the formalities. Emma had already made up her mind to assign Eva to Alex’s team as a replacement and she wanted Eva to meet up with Alex today itself. Emma’s phone rang and she saw that it was her Secretary dialing in.

“Ma’am, the new joinee Eva is here to meet you. Shall I send her in?” asked Trudy, Emma’s secretary.

“Send her in, Trudy.” said Emma hurriedly and hung up.

“May I come in?” said a voice knocking on Emma’s door.

“Come in please, Eva!” Emma said enthusiastically.

“Good morning Emma. It’s so nice to meet you again. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work for this firm.” Eva greeted her, impressed with the facilities and infrastructure of the office.

“It’s great seeing you again too Eva! So, what are your first impressions?” asked Emma.

“It’s such a lovely office. And the view from your office is just spectacular. It must be empowering for you to head one of the biggest PR firms of the world. You really are an inspiration Emma!” said Eva beaming with wonder.

“That’s very kind of you to say Eva but believe me when I say that the road that leads here is not the smoothest one. I have been through some of the worst experiences in my life to reach here. And I have had to make some terrible calls. Do you think you are up for the challenge?” Emma had a smile on her face while saying this but she looked at Eva right in the eye to try to decipher what Eva could be thinking.

“Yes. I know what this business entails. I have read all about all the campaigns and projects that you have handled. I do think that I have the ability to think on my feet and have patience – which I think are the biggest tools for working as a PR executive.” said Eva with confidence.

“OK Eva, please head on to the HR department where you will asked to fill in some formal documents and come back here to my office in about an hour. I will have you first assignment ready by then!” said Emma pleased with Eva’s confidence.

Eva had worked really hard to reach here and she was so excited that she had finally made it to one of the biggest PR firms in the world! She was ready to take on the world!

Chapter 2

Eva came back to Emma’s office after she had filled up all the documents and completed all the formalities in HR. She was curious about her first assignment and was hoping she would be able to impress Emma by seeing it through successfully.