Chapter 5

CHAPTER

FIVE

Chad

"I'm not sure I'll ever get all this sand out of my hair. How was this even possible when I was wearing a helmet?" she asks from the passenger seat of our rental.

I glance her way, a smile instantly spreading across my face. Her hair is matted and rumpled, several long brown strands sticking up every which way. Not to mention the red outline on her face from the goggles. It's cute as hell.

"We had that sand flying everywhere," I confirm, feeling those tiny granules in places you don't ever want them to be. It reminds me of my first tour in Afghanistan with Ford.

"Yeah, but I guess I didn't expect to find it beneath the helmet. And I'm pretty sure I'm taking half the desert back with us in my bra," she states, pulling out the front of her shirt and peeking down at her chest.

My eyes instantly drop to the place hers are focused. "I could help you out with that," I quip, even though I'm totally serious.

She flashes me a wide grin. "I'm sure you would," she sasses, releasing her shirt and kicking back in the seat. She crisscrosses her legs and sighs. "It was totally worth it, though. I had so much fun."

"Me too," I reply, wanting to reach over and grab her hand, entangling our fingers as I drive. But I don't. Sure, I've stolen little touches here and there throughout the day, but nothing as bold as to take her hand in mine. "Are you hungry?" I ask to get my mind off touching her.

"Starved, actually. Who knew racing through the desert would burn so many calories?"

"It's the sun and the heat," I tell her. "When Ford and I were overseas, we could be sitting outside doing nothing, and I was probably hungrier than if we were actually working."

It's quiet for a few moments before she asks, "What was it like over there? Ford's never really said too much, probably to protect us, but I know he talked to my dad. Dad was no stranger to being sent away, which sucked for him and my mom. He missed us being born, and he'd had enough. Six months later he was home for good."

I can't help myself now. I reach over and grab her hand, holding hers within my much larger one and giving it a gentle squeeze. She slips her fingers through mine, entwining them as I've been picturing all day. The result causes my heart to simultaneously skip a beat with excitement and relax in contentment.

"I can't imagine growing up with a parent in the military like that. I'm the first one to enlist in my family. My grandpa had a childhood heart condition, which prevented him from enlisting, and by the time my dad was nearing the end of high school, he was helping full time with the farm. I think they always thought I'd hang around and join them, but I saw my future a little differently. I wanted to see more of the world and do my part to make it a better place before I put down roots somewhere."

"You're a good person, Chad Anthony. I'm super proud of you," she replies softly, squeezing my hand—and maybe my heart a little too.

"Anyway, being in Afghanistan is pretty much what you'd expect. It was hot during the summer months and at times, the hours were long and grueling. I remember feeling like everyone was watching me, and I guess they were. We were the Americans, coming into their towns and villages for whatever reason. For all the bad I saw—and believe me, there was plenty of that—there was a lot of good too. I have a ton of memories of playing soccer and hopscotch in the dirt streets with some of the kids and teaching a little girl how to tie her shoes. There's a lot of bad in the world, but there's a hell of a lot of good too."

"When I was in third grade, I remember our teacher's son being in the military and he was sent overseas somewhere. Every Friday, our class would write him a letter or draw him a picture. He was our pen pal, I guess you could say. Mrs. Winger would put together a package, sometimes a big box with snacks for him and those in his unit, and sometimes just a big envelope with that week's messages from the kids. She'd always write her own letter too and include it. A few times, we'd even be able to schedule video chats with him. I remember how excited everyone was, mostly because it was hard to picture a world so big that someone could be thousands of miles away and we could still communicate with them. On those days, we all were wearing our red, white, and blue, and he'd always smile so widely when we showed our support.

"One Monday, we were supposed to have a video chat, but Mrs. Winger wasn't there. The substitute told us there was an accident involving Brogan, her son, but wouldn't tell us anything more. Turns out, his Humvee hit a roadside bomb. All six inside were killed. Mrs. Winger never returned that school year, and it was my first real look at how dangerous military life really was. My parents never talked about it with us, and I can understand why. No one wants to tell their children their father could leave and never come back. That year changed how I viewed our military and those who serve."

My throat is tight as I try to swallow over the lump and absorb her words, the fear we face all too real.

"When Ford enlisted, I recall exactly how gripping that fear felt. I was transported right back to third grade, to the little girl who felt something so big, yet didn't really comprehend it until she was older. I have never been so terrified in my life than when he was gone. I constantly worried about him and if I would ever see him again."

I don't even realize I'm pulling the car over along the side of the deserted road until I'm stopping and throwing it in Park. Turning to face her, I see tears in those gorgeous emerald eyes. Tears that gut me right to the core.

Squeezing our joined hands once more, I bring the other up to her cheek and cup her soft skin. "I'm sorry you experienced that."

She gives me a watery grin. "That's life. The beauty and the pain. You can't have one without the other."

"Unfortunately," I agree, recalling all the heartache that has accompanied my time in the military. Like life in general, there has been a lot of good, but also plenty of bad too.

"Promise me something," she says, flashing me a sad smile.

"Anything."

"Promise me if you ever go, you'll be careful. I can't ask you to promise not to go, but you have to promise to do everything you can to come home at the end."

Her request has me reaching for her other hand. "Darlin', I promise I'll do everything in my power to come home," I reply softly, running my thumb across her knuckles. "If I could promise never to go away again, I would in a heartbeat, but that's not something I can guarantee."

Her lips turn upward, but her eyes reflect a lot of sadness with that single gesture. "I know, and I was teasing a little when I said that part. I'd never ask you to promise me that, honestly. I know there are no guarantees in this life, especially in the military."

"No, there's not," I concede, wishing I could take her in my arms and hold her close and never fucking let her go. "But I can promise I'll do everything in my power to come home at the end of the day. Even if I'm thousands of miles away. Okay?"

She nods and leans into my touch again, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling. Her eyes close and the faintest smile plays across her lips. She looks so… content. And so fucking beautiful it hurts. Faith tilts her head just the slightest, her warm, soft lips resting against the inside of my thumb. She moves her mouth and kisses my hand. It's not a friendly kiss. That slightest touch is packed with passion, desire, and perhaps a hint of intent, and it goes straight to my balls.

Needing a change so I don't drag her into the back seat of the rental and maul her like a damn animal, I drop my hand to sever the connection. Her eyes slowly open as I ask, "Ready to get back so we can grab a bite to eat?"

Hurt and confusion flash in her eyes before it's pushed away. "Yes," she replies, that one word thick in her throat. She clears it away and sits up in her seat, adjusting the belt across her chest. It almost seems like she's giving her hands something to do.

I feel terrible.

I wanted to kiss her.

So fucking bad that the need caused physical pain, but when I kiss her, I'm not going to want to stop, so now isn't the time.

The drive back to Fort Irwin is comfortable, mostly because I never let go of her hand. We chat about everything. Her family, mine, my new job, and the base I now call home. I even explain The Box, part of the training process I have to do every couple of weeks, which is set to begin the Monday after she leaves.

"I have an idea," I say as we approach town and I head toward the hotel. "How about I drop you off so you can jump in the shower, then I'll run and pick up some food and meet you back in your room? Unless you want to go out somewhere. I can drop you off, run back to the barracks and shower, and be back in thirty."

"No, I think I'd prefer eating in."

I pull up in front of the hotel, flip on my hazard lights, and jump out. When I meet her around at the passenger door, she asks, "What are you doing?"

"Walking you up," I state, shutting the door and taking her hand.

"It's not far. I'm sure I can manage," she quips, her lips curling heavenward.

"You're more than capable, but there's no need to go alone if I'm able to be by your side." I don't realize how significant and true those words are until I've said them.

Faith doesn't argue. She walks beside me as we make our way through the small lobby of the hotel and to the elevator. We step inside, and within a few moments, are whisked away to the third floor. I don't release her hand until her room is unlocked and opened.

"What would you like for dinner?"

"Anything," she replies, turning to face me. "I'm not picky."

"What don't you like?"

She seems to take a few seconds to think before she replies, "I'm not a fan of roast beef dishes. You already know I prefer onion rings over french fries, and I don't like mustard on my hamburgers, but something else I could live without is German chocolate cake. Who wants to ruin chocolate with something as nasty as coconut pecan frosting?"

I lean forward and kiss her forehead. "Thank you. I'll be back in just a little bit. Lock up behind me," I state, turning and stepping back into the hallway. When she goes to shut the door, I add, "Oh, and, Faith? I hate mustard on my burger too." I toss her a smile and wink, then head for the elevator, making sure her door is secured before I step onto the car.

Jumping back in the rental, I make the short drive to the diner and place our order. "Give us ten minutes," the server says, placing our order with the kitchen.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to run an errand real fast," I tell her, making sure to give extra in the tip in case I'm a few minutes later.

"Not a problem, hon," she replies, already moving on to refill drinks for the customers at the counter.

I slip into the rental and make a quick trip to my barracks. After showing my ID, I park in the nearest lot and run to where my bed is.

"What are you doing back here? I thought you'd be out all night with your girl," Sanders says as soon as I enter the large room.

"I'm just grabbing a change of clothes," I tell him. When I decided on today's activities, I hadn't anticipated the sand. I should have stopped here and showered first, then went to place our food order. However, since I didn't think about that until after I paid for our to-go order, I'm lacking on options. Here's to hoping she's okay with me using her shower.

I throw an Army T-shirt, pair of athletic shorts, underwear, socks, and deodorant into a pile on my bed and grab my running shoes. Once I have what I need, I glance around the room. Besides Sanders, Howe and Harwood are here, playing a game of cards. "It's Saturday night. Don't you ladies have skirts to chase?" I tease.

"My wife doesn't approve of skirt chasing," Howe announces with a grin.

I stop and face the other newest member of the team. "You're married?"

He nods proudly. "Six months. I have my name on the list for married housing and was told it could be any day. There are several opening up. I'm anxious to get her here with me."

"I bet," I reply, grabbing all my stuff and heading for the door.

"With that group transferring out, there should be some apartments and small houses available early next week. I'm just waitin' for the call," he adds, tossing his cards onto the table as he folds.

I throw a wave over my shoulder and head out. When I reach my rental, I chuck my clothes into the passenger seat and jump behind the wheel. I stop at the security gate and do my thing there before making my way back to the diner to pick up our food. The entire trip only took fifteen minutes, so I'm only a handful of minutes behind to grab the order.

By the time I make it back to her room, I have my arms loaded with my clothes and bags of food, including two slices of homemade pie I bought on a whim before I left the diner. Using the spare key, I let myself into the room and find her standing in the bathroom wearing a tight tank top and tiny little shorts that barely cover her ass. Also known as her pajamas. I remember them vividly from our night together in a hotel room similar to this one over a year ago.

"Oh my goodness, that smells amazing," she says, running a brush through her wet hair.

"It's ready when you are. How was the shower?" I step farther into the room and set the bags down on the small table.

"Heaven. You should see all the sand in the bottom of the tub," she replies with a chuckle.

"I brought something for me to change into. Do you mind if I use your shower?" I holler, only to startle a moment later when she places her hand on my upper arm.

"I don't mind. Hell, it's practically your shower anyway, since you're paying for it."

"No, it's your space. I may be paying for it, but it's all for you," I insist, catching a whiff of her floral shampoo and bodywash.

Jasmine.

She leans in just enough that her tits brush against my arm. My dick is already hard, but now it's painfully so. Turning my head, I realize exactly how close she's standing, exactly how close her mouth is to mine.

Taking a step back, I put some much-needed air between us and reach for the bag of food. "Let's eat while it's still hot."

Between the two of us, we devour two cheeseburgers, an order of fries and onion rings, while watching the original Batman movie from the late eighties. I toss the containers back in the bag and set it beside the garbage can.

"I'm going to shower," I state, grabbing my clothes and trying not to notice how relaxed and amazing she looks spread across the bed.

"Okay," she replies, flashing me a smile.

When I'm alone in the shower, I contemplate taking care of my very eager cock. No way can I lie beside her on that bed and not want to touch her. Hell, I'll still want to touch her even if I take the edge off. I opt for just a quick wash—despite my dick really wanting a little attention—using her shampoo and bodywash, of course.

I slip on boxer briefs and athletic shorts, leaving my shirt off until my body cools down enough to stop sweating, thanks to the shitty ventilation system in the small bathroom, and step out into the main room. Faith is exactly where I left her, lying on the bed, and looking like a wet fucking dream.

My wet dream .

"The next Batman is on," she says, scooting forward, indicating there's plenty of room for me.

Shit.

Even though I know the right move would be to go sit in the chair, my legs carry me right toward her. Sliding onto the bed, I reach for her. Her slender body molds to me, my front to her back. It's too much—the pleasure she stirs inside me without even trying.

I grab the pillow and prop it under my head before resting my hand on her hip. If only I could ignore the heat of her skin beneath my fingertips.

After only a few minutes of watching Batman Returns , she whispers, "Chad?"

"Hmm?" I go ahead and lean forward just a bit and inhale the familiar scent of her intoxicating shampoo.

She seems a little nervous as she asks, "Can you stay tonight?"

"Yes," I reply instantly. This is exactly why I went ahead and applied for an overnight pass.

"Chad?"

I can't help but grin. "Yes, Faith?"

When she glances over her shoulder and meets my gaze, something hot and primal stirs to life in my gut.

"Will you kiss me?"

The smile falls from my face as I move toward her. I know I said I wasn't going to kiss her unless she was mine, but I just can't resist her. She's everything. "It'd be my pleasure."

My earlier words buzz through my mind. This only means one thing: Faith is mine.

She just doesn't know it yet.

I press my lips to hers, and finally— finally —all is right in the world again.