Page 60 of A Hero Comes Home

“You could take care of me,” he said softly.

“Do you need care?”

“In spades.”

She arched her brows. “Are you in pain?”

“Always.”

“Would it help if I massaged your leg?”

He made a low choking sound before replying, “That would be a start.”

“I have some scented bath oil.”

“Even better.” He smiled.

And Sally melted a little bit more.

The answer to whether they were going to have sex or not was a foregone conclusion. Nothing that had been discussed. Just something understood. There was no doubt in Sally’s mind that Jake wanted it. She sure as sugar did.

Sally wasn’t sure when she’d decided to give up her resolution to have a firm commitment from Jake, a clear-cut idea of their future together, before starting a sexual relationship. In some ways, it was like her reasoning for expanding the bakery business, taking on a huge loan. A risk. At some point, days ago, she’d decided to gamble that she and Jake had enough assets, enough promises of return on investment, to jump in headfirst. Yeah, they had a checkered P & L relationship statement, but nine years of marriage and three children had to count for something.

The big question, the big elephant looming between them, was love . . . or lack of love. Had that all-consuming love at first sight died?

She didn’t know. She felt raw, exposed. If he’d come back a few months after his last deployment, she might very well have given him his walking papers. That’s how disillusioned she’d been with her marriage. Now? She wasn’t sure.

As for Jake . . . she hadn’t heard any expressions of undying love on his part, either. Unlike his old cocky self, overconfidence personified, he seemed equally unsure of himself. He’d even been willing to let her go. Hadn’t he told her in so many words that she could have an affair with another man, as long as she did it discreetly? The clueless ass! Does he know me so little? Sex as a widow was one thing. Adultery was quite another.

The thing was, Jake didn’t talk much at all. About the things that were important. Maybe if she understood what he’d been through the past three years, she could bridge the gap between them.

Would sex provide that bridge?

It appeared that she was about to find out.

Jake pushed away from the column and moved the three steps closer to her. Tipping her chin up, he said, “Honey, I’m home.”

And it was as if the last few weeks, the last three years, were wiped out. A new start.

Home is where the heart is, and other body parts, too . . .

“Thank God!” Sally said and leaned into the palm of his hand.

Jake’s heart swelled in his chest at that mere gesture. He assumed she was responding to his remark about being home.

“So? Are we going to do this thing?” he asked.

She nodded, and there were tears in her eyes, turning them from chocolate to misty caramel. He didn’t think they were tears of sorrow. More a surfeit of emotion.

He knew how that felt. The time for “Should we?” or “Shouldn’t we?” or “What if this?” or “What if that?” or “Maybe we should wait” was long past. The time for going for the flow of emotion was at hand.

Tugging her closer, with both hands on her hips, he leaned down to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and went up on tiptoes to meet his kiss and kiss him back.

It was sweet.

So sweet.

And then it was hot.