Page 22 of A Veteran’s Second Chance

“Yes, ma’am.”

I slide my shorts off, and Savanna sits up on her elbows to watch me undress, her heated gaze setting me on fire.

I kneel before her, then come down on my good side, my elbow crushing the leaves beneath it.

My hand trails down her body, and she leans forward to do the same. Her strong fingers trace over my chest and down my torso, and then she’s gripping me in her strong grasp.

“Fuck. I’m not going to last long if you do that.”

She smiles and gives me a hard tug before lying back on the ground. “Then do what we came here to do, Logan.”

I grab a condom from my shorts pocket, and she raises an eyebrow. “You came prepared.”

“I was hopeful.”

I don’t tell her that the lessons of my father have made me extra cautious with protection. I don’t want to leave behind a string of fatherless children.

The image of Savanna’s belly round with my child flashes in my mind, and it’s not unpleasant.

Savanna snickers. “Don’t get too hopeful, Logan. It’s only sex.”

The image bursts. I’ve got a long way still to go to win Savanna’s heart, although I wonder if it’s me or herself she’s saying the words for. There is no way this is just sex. And she can lie to herself all she likes, but as I slide into her and she arches to meet me, as our bodies entwine and move together, as she wraps her legs around me and grips my arms, the warmth and heat and feeling of openness is like nothing I’ve ever experienced with anyone else. This is no normal sex; this is intimate and right. It’s not just two bodies coming together, but two hearts, two souls.

She raises her hips, and I slide in deeper. Savanna cries out, and a bird answers her call. My legs scrape against fallen leaves and the dirt of the earth, grounding me in a way that is perfect for this moment. Insects chirp and the leaves rustle around us as our bodies merge together, like a part of the natural order of things.

“Savanna…” I gasp her name as she moves under me, and I’m this close to telling her I love her, but I stop myself because she’s not ready to hear that.

Instead, I push harder, go deeper, my mouth caresses her breasts, and I show her with my body what I’m feeling and hope she gets the message.

“Logan.” She whines my name, and her legs tighten around me. Her gaze finds mine, and her eyes are wide with wonder.

“Come for me, Savanna.”

She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, and I want her to see me while she comes, but she’s not ready for that either.

I thrust hard, and she cries out, and her body contracts around me, and it’s more than I can take. I come with her, and my cries join hers, startling the birds into the sky.

I dip my head against her forehead, and we’re both breathing hard. Something flashes across her face that I can’t name. And then she moves, and reluctantly I move off her and roll to the side. She sits up and reaches for her clothes. Her naked back to me glistens with sweat and vulnerability. I run my fingers down her spine, and she shivers.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she answers too quickly. “I just don’t want to get discovered with my clothes off. We were pretty loud.”

She pulls her shirt over her head, and I hand her her panties. I lean back and watch her dress. She’s not okay. Because that sex was far from ‘just sex.’ That was mind-blowing, life-changing sex. Savanna isn’t ready to admit it, but we are still damn good together. I love her, and she hasn’t caught up yet.

I know what that expression on her face was. It was terror. Savanna has feelings for me, and it terrifies her.

She’s terrified this will take her somewhere and break her heart all over again. And she’s right to be. This shoulder could put me out of the service, and I don’t know who I am without it—I’ve been a soldier since I was seventeen. But I’m not weighing that against her. I did that once, eleven years ago. I came up with the wrong answer, and it cost us both a decade. Whatever the Army decides about my injury, I’ve already decided about Savanna.

13

SAVANNA

Two weeks later…

Logan’s stirring the pasta sauce and singing along to my Taylor Swift playlist when my phone rings. Cassie’s name flashes up on the screen, and guilt gnaws at my belly. I haven’t taken her last two calls because I can’t face lying to her, and also because I was in bed with Logan when she last rang. In her last voicemail, she threatened to get on a plane and come check on me.

I take my phone into the bedroom and close the door. It doesn’t quite block out Logan’s singing.