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“I’m sorry about the last time I was here,” Ace says as he lies on his back and I rest my head on his chest.
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. “You got sick from serving your country.”
He lets out a sigh. “It doesn’t feel noble.”
I prop my head on my hand to look at him. He looks so sad. My heart squeezes. At that moment I understand how difficult it must be for Ace to know that at any moment, his mind can transport him back to Afghanistan.
“A bullet wound is noble. PTSD is not,” he says. His voice is tortured and raw with pain. I wish I could ease his pain with a swipe of my hand.
“According to who?” I say.
“Unwritten soldier rules,” Ace says.
“Those are your rules, Ace. If the rest of us saw some of the things you saw out there, we’d have long sunk into a black hole.”
“Yeah. The flashbacks are terrible,” Ace says. “I should go home. I’m fighting to keep my eyes open and I don’t want to fall asleep.”
I open my mouth to ask why and then promptly shut it. I know why. He’s afraid that if he falls asleep, he might have one of his episodes. It was one of the most frightening things I had ever seen. A grown man crouched naked on the floor, his eyes blazing wildly.
I shiver when I remember it now. Inside of that figure reenacting a combat scene from his memories is a kind and generous man. A man who is working hard to heal himself. The father of my daughter. I make a decision.
“It’s okay, you can stay. We’ll figure it out if it happens again,” I tell him.
His chest lifts and falls taking my head with it. I can feel the swell of emotion that comes over him.
“Are you sure?” Ace says his voice thick with emotion.
“I’m sure,” I tell him.
He’s silent for a while. “I’m taking the boat out on Saturday. Do you want to come?”
From our conversations, I know that Ace’s sailboat is pretty important to him. Asking me to go sailing with him is a big deal. Happy butterflies fill my belly. I raise my head and kiss his lips.
He smiles sleepily.
“I’d love to.”
“Good,” Ace says.
My body is exhausted but my mind is fully alert. I watch Ace as he falls asleep, his sensuous mouth slightly ajar. I study his features and compare them with Luna’s. The same shapely lips, the same nose, and shape of the head. It’s pure luck that Ace has not figured out the Luna is his daughter.
But I know that I’m running out of time. The longer I leave it, the harder it’s going to be.
Chapter 13
Ace
I tap the steering wheel impatiently as I wait for Lexi to come out. I could go to the house and wait for her inside, but I know what will happen if I do. The sexual attraction between us is potent. Explosive. There’s no way I’ll let her leave that house without a taste of her.
It’s more than tempting but I have plans. I want Lexi to love sailing. I want her to experience the sense of freedom and adventure that you feel when you’re out in the water. The weather today is perfect for a day out at sea.
Lexi emerges a few minutes later, dressed in a blue and white sleeveless summer dress. On her head is a hat, which I plan to remove. I like her hair loose, flowing down her shoulders. I can’t make out the expression in her eyes as they are hidden by sunglasses.
“Hi,” she says when she enters the passenger side of the car.
Her dress rides up her legs when she sits down.
“Hello, beautiful.” I lean across to kiss her and rest my hand on her thigh unable to help myself. Before I know it, we’re all over each other like horny kids.
“Ace,” Lexi whispers when I find her clit and stroke it over the material of her panties.
I feel the tremble of her legs and I let out a string of curses when I remember that we’re in my car. I break the kiss but keep rubbing her clit. Her head falls back against the seat as though her neck muscles have collapsed.
That’s when I notice the book in her hand. It has a picture of a sailboat. A reminder of the day’s plans which do not involve having sex in the car in broad daylight. I’m not worried that somebody can see us. The windows of my SUV are heavily tinted. I’ve never been more grateful for them than now.
“To be continued,” I tell Lexi and withdraw my fingers.
She makes sweet noises of protest. I laugh.
“I’ll get you back for that,” she says and adjusts her dress.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” I tell her. “I promise.” My gaze falls to the book. “What’s that?”
