Page 46 of The Forgotten SEAL (The Real SEAL #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Carina

He’s there when I get home. The sight of his truck in the driveway gives me goose bumps. It’s excitement, something I’ve only had in small doses throughout my life. Smith is sitting inside the cab with the engine running even though I’m sure he has a house key.

Emotionally, I’m exhausted. Physically, I’m drained. Both of those things take a back seat when I think about how amazing it felt to have him in my arms today. When he sees me pull in, he hops out of his truck quickly and opens the car door for me.

“Have you been here since you left the bookstore?” I ask. I finished the meet and greet, and Smith left because of the crazy commotion his declaration caused. After that spectacle, I answered so many questions I wasn’t sure what was real and what was a lie. That would always be the problem.

He sighs. “I had a lot of thinking to do,” he says.

I grab my handbag and a few other totes with my supplies and step out. “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound like the start of a happy story,” I reply.

He kisses me. Right here in the driveway.

Like we’re in a bedroom naked with the lights off.

It takes my breath away and steals all thoughts I had moments before.

Kissing Ben never felt like this. Not even by a fraction.

I chalked it up to heartbreak, but now I realize the problem was larger than that.

The problem was I’d already tasted this .

His hands make their way into my hair, and it tingles every place he touches. My stomach is light, and I’m so turned-on, it’s like no time has passed at all. That thought scares me into caution.

“You should have gone in. Poppet is all by herself,” I say, pecking his mouth in a sweet kiss.

“I want you all by yourself,” Smith replies, pulling me closer.

Truly, I can’t resist. I lean into his chest and bury my face in his clean T-shirt. He’s changed since the show this afternoon. A white bandage wraps the knuckles on his right hand.

“I can breathe again, Care. I can breathe.” Smith tightens his grip like he fears I’ll vanish into thin air.

“Let’s go somewhere,” I say. “The park. I haven’t been able to go anywhere at night. You can abuse your handy ID to get us there, right?”

Reluctantly, Smith pulls away from our embrace. He runs the back of his knuckles down my face. It’s where Roarke hit me. “Yes. Let’s go. Poppet?” he asks, smiling .

We agree to go in and say hello to the cat and then leave. Poppet is sleeping on my bed but stands when I enter the room. She looks between Smith and me. “She’s not used to anyone else in the house,” I explain.

“Not even Ben?” Smith asks, leaning against the doorway. The way he’s holding himself back is admirable. I know exactly what he wants to do and how badly he wishes he were in this room. On this bed. With me. I know because I feel the same way.

I sit on the edge of the bed, and Poppet lands in my lap with a cute jump. I kiss her small head and stroke her fur. “No, Smith. I can’t have a man in this house.”

He palms his chest with his bandaged hand. “I’m a man in this house.”

I roll my eyes and stand. “You pay for this house, and this is our house. It will always be our house. I called Ben on the way home,” I say, clearing my throat.

Smith stands and shifts his weight to the other side. “And?”

“He called me a lying bitch. Before you get upset, I am. I told him I was over you when we started dating. I called you bad things. I also told him Never Forever was fiction. It is…but it’s not. I lied to him.”

“A bitch, though?” Smith asks, lips pressed in a firm line. He raises one brow in question.

Kissing Poppet one more time, I plop her back on the bed and brush her white hair off my dress.

Walking toward Smith, I say, “My grandma always told me to do two things in person. Give bad news and apologize. Both of those probably needed to happen, and I called him instead. I broke up with him by way of a phone call on the night we were planning on having sex for the first time.”

His eyes just about bulge out of his head. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Shit, Carina. TMI. I have visions of you that are so disturbing that I could commit murder right now.”

I slide my hands around his waist as he slips his hands around me. “I didn’t want to, but that’s usually part of moving on. He…was a good guy. His timing was unlucky, and his selection was faulty.”

He kisses me on the top of the head. “We should go. Before my thoughts shift to me having sex with you instead of some dude named Ben.” He thrusts his hips forward so I feel his erection. “Oh, wait. They’ve already rounded that corner and decided to take a detour to Blow Job Street, too.”

We laugh. I kiss his neck. He groans. I melt.

We make it out to his truck. Barely. He knows as well as I do that we need to talk.

It’s been a long time since we’ve had any kind of relationship, let alone a sexual one.

The guards at the security checkpoint by my house know him now.

They wave him on, and we’re parking his truck in the empty lot just as the setting sun turns the sky a vibrant pink and red.

Smith tells me he wants to go to our tree—the one with the gangly roots that protrude through the ground like angry waves at the beach. It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s so silent and the night so temperate I’m happy to be outside. Especially with his hands wrapped around me.

The tree looms before us. Tall and old, leaves and roots untouched by the disaster that is our new world.

I suppose I thought it would look different after all this time and after everything that has transpired since our last visit.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. Smith nods in agreement and takes my hand in his.

I have our park blanket tucked under my arm.

The last rays of today’s light beam on the trunk, and it’s a sign.

Some insane, unpredictable sign that we are where we’re supposed to be.

Right now and forever. We sit down next to a tangled root that has several other ones fused around it and stare off in the distance.

The top of the old church is visible above the treetops, almost disappearing with daytime.

“It’s where it started,” Smith says, leaning back on his elbows. His whole demeanor has shifted. A calmness—a fragment of peace that wasn’t there any time I’ve seen him since our separation.

“Don’t tell me it’s where it ends. I don’t take the Romeo and Juliet comparison literally, you know?”

He pulls me toward him. My head finds his chest—his heartbeat.

“I missed you so much, Smith,” I whisper.

“Miss isn’t even the correct word.” He clears his throat, emotion already taking over. “I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. Nothing made sense. I held onto an old promise because it was all I had that made sense. I lost myself more when I lost you than I did when I lost my memory. I’m sorry.”

I roll on top of him, straddling his hips so I can look down and see his eyes. “Don’t apologize anymore. Make me promises instead. Those mean more.”

“I’d promise you anything right now. Not just because you’re sitting on top of my dick either,” he replies.

I smile. “Can you promise forever?” My voice shakes as I ask a question I never dared to ask of anyone else.

He sits up, a smile beaming bright on his beautiful face.

Grabbing my face, he kisses me once, then again.

Once more just to taste me, and I sigh in contentment.

“Marry me,” he orders. “Take my name and let’s make babies.

They’ll make babies, and our love will live on forever, Carina.

Marry me. Be the person you want to be. And I’ll be happy to be by your side for as long as we have left on this earth. ”

I snort an ungodly awful noise as I’m trying to conceal my tears and emotion. Kissing the side of his cheek, the scarred one, I lean into his ear. “Only if you’ll walk me down the aisle,” I reply.

He leans away to look at me. “Is that a yes?”

I nod. “Of course it’s a yes. I’ll marry you. I’ll make babies with you. I’ll love you forever. You’re the only thing in this world that gives me hope. The world could crumble around me…literally, but if you’re with me, I’ll be happy.”

Smith hugs me, and the embrace turns lethal when he kisses my ear and then my neck. I lean back to give him access to my collarbone and the front of my neck. “Are you okay right here?” he asks, his words a rush of breath and desire.

I kiss him as an answer. He lies down and takes me with him on top. “No one is outside right now. The curfew is good for something,” I reply. It wouldn’t have stopped me anyway.

“I want to make love to my fiancée, but I’m so excited I’m not sure what I’m about to do to you will be construed as love. You understand?” he asks, his hands unzipping my dress quickly.

I slide the dress off my shoulders to expose my lacy bra.

“You want to fuck me,” I say.

He grins. “My god, yes.”

Darkness conceals us, but not so much that we can’t see each other clearly.

I take his T-shirt off slowly so as to not harm his hand.

His smile is lustful but steadfast. He can’t stop smiling.

Standing over him, he slides the dress and my panties off with gentle fingers.

Being naked outdoors feels free. It feels naughty, the wind and air meeting places clothing is supposed to touch instead.

When his jeans and underwear are down by his ankles, I position myself between his knees and lean down, but stop right before I put him in my mouth. “This first?” I ask.

“You’re trying to kill me with anticipation. Yes, yes, this moment right here is what my dreams are made of. Not so much the blow job itself, but you right there, eyes looking at me, mouth ready, my cock hard. This. Snapshot,” he says then groans. “Don’t wait anymore, though.”