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Elise had lost her older brother over in Afghanistan fourteen months before I signed on the dotted line. After witnessing her heartache, I couldn’t put her through that again so I broke up with her. But now that I’m out of the Marines, and home again, I want my girl back. But Beth, my sister, broke the news to me that Elise is now engaged. It kills me knowing that another man is putting his hands on her when she’s mine.
It shouldn’t because I haven’t exactly been a monk, but they never meant anything to me and were just a way of letting off steam. Elise seems to have moved on with someone else. I told her that’s what I wanted, but I’d lied through my teeth to make her leave me because she had been slowly breaking through the barrier I’d erected before I went to Paris Island.
The big question hanging over my head right now is what the hell I’m going to do about her. I love her. It’s that simple. When I’ve been home over the years, I’ve spotted her around and noticed she always goes out of her way to avoid me. But every time I’ve caught sight of her, my heart somersaults in my chest. She’s always going to be my girl and a Marine never gives up. I just need a plan of action—a plan that includes me showing up wherever she is, and not letting her avoid me.
She has to still feel something for me, otherwise why try and avoid me as much as she does?
With that thought in mind, I pull myself out of my dark mood and strip. Tossing my clothes into the wicker hamper in the corner of my room, I head to the bathroom.
I catch a glimpse of my scarred hip as I turn the shower on, and it causes me to pause. The scar is an angry mark on my body starting on my hip and extending onto my buttock. If I overdo it, then the scars look red and angry, and h
urt like a bitch. Sometimes on waking, I have to slowly massage my hip, thigh and buttock before I can get out of bed, something I’ve kept to myself.
I see the look on my father’s face when he sees me limping, and it hurts because I’m the one who put that look on his face. I don’t want pity from anyone, but knowing my father is hurting because I am, doesn’t sit well with me at all. This is one of the reasons why I’m happy he’s falling for Rona and vice-versa. At last, I hope, he has someone to talk to and be there for him because, God knows, he must have been lonely as hell over the years. I’m also hoping with their growing relationship, he’ll be too distracted with Rona to worry a lot about me.
But while he’s doing that, I’m going to get my girl.
Stepping into the steaming shower, I stand under the spray and feel my body start to relax as my mind wanders to my girl. As it does, the tension creeps back and I imagine the way she would react to me; to my body. Her gorgeous head of blonde curls flow down her back to her waist and I ache to touch those silky strands again. The light sprinkling of freckles she has over her nose and cheekbones still create a craving to taste her. I used to tease that her freckles tasted like cinnamon sugar, which always had her laughing. The melodious sound would stop, though, when I put my mouth on her pussy lips, and opened them with my tongue so I could dip inside and really taste her.
Groaning, I push my hips forward in arousal. I need release. It’s been a hell of a long time since I felt the touch of a woman, but as my dick swells with thoughts of Elise, she’s the only one whose hands and mouth I want on me.
My thoughts are really not helping right now.
Continuing to wash my body, I ignore my hard-as-hell dick, rinse off, and step out. I grab a towel, and dry off quickly. Shoving my legs in underwear, I opt for dress jeans and a shirt for tonight’s dinner over at Anna’s house. She’s been badgering me to spend time with her since I stepped foot in Wyoming a couple of days ago. I don’t think she had family time in mind and preferred to see me alone. But we’ll both take the compromise for now. I can avoid the pep talk I know she really wants to give me. She definitely wants to talk about what happened to me, and about my plans for the future. I’m just not ready to discuss them with her, no matter how much I love her.
The first person I plan on talking to is Elise, if she’ll listen.
Fastening the last button on my shirt, I grab socks and shove my feet into my boots just as my cell starts to vibrate across the wooden dresser. I answer, “Hello,” without bothering to look at the caller ID. Shows how damn distracted I am.
“Jake.”
Elise.
“Jake, are you there?” I hear a trace of nervousness in her voice.
“Yeah,” I whisper, and then more strongly, I say, “I’m here.”
Just knowing she’s on the other end of the telephone with me has caused my brain to freeze, preventing me from forming a more coherent sentence.
“Beth told me you’re back home now. I just wanted to make sure you’re really okay. You are, aren’t you?”
I drop my ass to the bed, wondering what to tell her over the phone. My family kept my injury to themselves, so Elise has no way of knowing something did happen, although she’s probably guessed.
As I’m dragging my hand through my hair, about to answer her, she jumps in again. “Jake, dammit! Will you please stop with the silent treatment? I never did anything to you. You left me, remember?”
“I remember,” I growl. “Fuck, Elsie. You’ve thrown me, calling out of the blue. I don’t know what the hell to say to you, but I can’t do it over the phone.”
“You’re frightening me,” she whispers.
“Don’t be afraid. I know I hurt you badly in the past, but I’ll never intentionally hurt you again. I promise, Elise. Please meet me so we can talk.”
I force myself to stay silent while I can practically feel the wheels turning in her head.
“All right. I’ll meet you, but I can’t now. I’ll call you, but Jake, you are okay, right?”
“I’m good, Elise. Don’t worry.”
“If you’re sure, I’ll see you soon.”
