Major Love

Chapter 24

Sunday

A reckless heart is dangerous because the less you fear the more daring you become.

The more that you do, the more you’re willing to try, to push your luck a little harder.

Which is probably why I’m feeling so good, so wild and free, by the time that I’ve tossed my stuff back in Casey’s cabin, taken a spontaneous winter walk through the lower valleys with Haven and Tucker, and then pulled up into the parking lot in the snow-covered town square.

The roads have been cleared, making the remaining snow accumulate on the sidewalks, and I secretly kind of love it as my boots slowly sink into the sparkling piles.

I cast a glance toward the roof of the diner where one of Jason’s team members is currently dismounting a tall ladder, casting me a double-take of surprise when he sees me walking past.

“Sunday?” he calls out, blinking quickly as he looks over his shoulder.

I’m ninety-nine-percent sure that this crew member is Knox, a no-nonsense, thick-muscled guy, with tan skin and incredible biceps.

I smile up at him over my shoulder, offering him a naughty wink as I head to the bar.

Casey’s bar .

I wonder how long it’ll take me to get used to that.

Knox’s handsome smile is enough to spur me forwards, and I almost collide with Beckett’s chest as he heads over to his truck, his lighter in hand.

His strong brow lifts as high as Knox’s, but the look in his eyes isn’t as sweet.

I have a feeling that Beckett’s a total bad boy, through and through.

It takes him less than a second to veil his expression and pocket his lighter. His eyes rake down my outfit, appreciation flickering in his gaze.

He backsteps into the bar as I stroll effortlessly forwards, casually tugging my gloves from my fingers and tossing them over to one of the tables.

Sensing the storm brewing inside of me, Beckett comes to a sharp stop when we hit the counter.

He folds his arms over his broad chest and tells me, “Jason’s not here.”

I think that it’s more of a statement than an offer. Like he thinks that Jason is who I’m looking for, rather than suggesting that we use his absence as an opportunity.

Curiosity flickers in his eyes as he adds, “And, by the way, your man just got in touch. Said that he’s looking for you.”

I can’t help the way that my heart squeezes with relief – relief that Jason has finished his search-and-rescue mission and is clearly okay. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not still angry with him for leaving me without a word of warning about what he was going to do this morning.

Where he was going to be.

The kind of danger that he would obviously be putting himself in.

“He’s not my man,” I say back to him. “So he doesn’t need to be looking for me.”

Although it is a little gratifying to know that Jason’s first port-of-call after his shift was to head back to his place and check in on me.

I can’t help but wonder how he felt when he realised that I’d packed up and gone.

Beckett swipes his tongue over his lower lip, flicking a glance toward the guys in the room before swinging it back to me.

“Look, Nashville,” he rumbles. “I like my balls attached to my body. If you’ve got shit going on with the boss, I’m not the best rebound for getting back at him.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” comes the husky voice of a woman who I hadn’t noticed when I tornadoed in here, making my head whip around, eyes wide as I take her in.

Blonde hair, unbelievable curves, and she flashes me a little wink as she makes her way to the entrance of the bar.

I stare after her with a combination of intrigue and horror before turning my attention back to Beckett.

“Let me guess,” I say, exasperated. “That’s Halle.”

“Halle? No. That’s Denver,” Beckett says casually.

My eyes flash up to his, my cheeks heating with indignation.

“There’s more ?” I rasp. “Great. Absolutely great.”

Beckett snickers as he looks me over, shaking his head as he clicks his lighter.

“You don’t need to worry about them,” he drawls, his eyes on a steady ride back up my body. “Trust me.”

“Oh sure, I definitely won’t worry about a five-foot-eleven blonde goddess,” I deadpan, ripping open my jacket because my anger is burning me up from the inside. I wait about half a second, and then snap, “Why don’t I need to worry about them?”

“Ever heard the phrase ‘don’t piss where you eat’?”

I stare up at him blankly, which makes him smirk even harder.

“Your man Jace abides by it,” Beckett says simply. “It means he doesn’t fuck around in the small town that he lives in. You can’t bang a chick on Saturday night without running into her on Sunday morning, so guys around here only hook-up on home turf if they’re planning on being in it for the long-haul.”

I watch Beckett for a couple moments, gauging from his expression to see if he’s actually being serious.

Then I’m breathing out a laugh because I can’t believe that he just said that.

“Wow,” I say wryly. “I’m sure that women everywhere adore that analogy.”

“Nashville, that’s the PG version. I made it family-friendly just for you.”

“If that’s the family-friendly version then I absolutely do not want to know what the other version is,” I tell him.

His smirk widens. “Your loss.”

“So, is this how you reel them in? With your poetic tongue?” I ask, mock-earnest, wondering if he can pick up on my sarcasm as I place my hand over my heart. “Beckett, I bet you charm the panties off of every lady you see.”

From the deadly glint in his eyes, he senses the sarcasm and he doesn’t like it. But, if anything, that just spurs me on more.

“That’s usually the case,” he says gruffly, although I can see the flicker of humour in his eyes.

“Except for here, right? Because you don’t ‘piss where you eat’,” I reiterate.

He gives me a once-over. “I didn’t say that I follow that rule, Nashville.”

My chest lifts on a curious inhale.

No, I guess he didn’t.

And in the next second everyone’s whipping around as the bar’s front door slams open, hulking shoulders filling up the entryway as molten eyes meet mine.

Beckett leaps away from me so fast you’d think that I’d just burnt him with his lighter.

I shoot him a look. “Chicken.”

He gestures to his junk. “I’m keeping these.”

Then my eyes are back on Jason’s as he all but storms toward me, his scorching gaze pinning me to the counter as he rips the black jacket from his body.

His black search-and-rescue jacket, which is a poignant reminder of what he spent his morning doing: risking his life in the mountains and not even telling me about it.

He stops when there’s barely an inch between us, his muscular chest heaving as he looms over me.

“Where’s your stuff?” he asks instantly.

So he did see that I’d packed up and left.

“At Casey’s cabin,” I reply, my voice huskier than I mean for it to be.

His eyes bore into mine. “Bring them back.”

I glance at my glossy nails. “I don’t think I will.”

His jaw muscles flex as he slowly looks me up and down. “We need to talk. Take a walk with me.”

“Here?” I ask. “Or up the mountain that you didn’t tell me you were riding this morning?”

Beckett lets out a low whistle and murmurs, “Oh, boy.”

Jason’s eyes stay trained on mine. “Walk with me. Now.”

I glower up at him for a long moment before spinning around and taking off.

My pace is lightning fast as I descend the back corridor, boots clipping off the hardwood as Jason strides behind me.

And just before I make it to the back door, he rounds my body, towering over me.

“In there.”

He gestures to the dark wood-panelled office on my left, the doorway looking barely big enough to accommodate one of his biceps.

I tear my eyes away from the offending muscles, lashes fluttering as he bears down on me.

“You won’t even fit in there,” I breathe out.

“Hasn’t stopped me before.”

I narrow my eyes and rear back, resisting the urge to slap him for that, and then I storm angrily into the back office, shivering as his warm body follows right behind me.

He leaves the door ajar but when I turn to face him, he’s all that I see, his broad shoulders eclipsing the corridor as he looms over me.

“You took off without telling me.”

My jaw almost drops. “So did you.”

“You know what my job is.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it!”

Jason’s impenetrable gaze searches mine, my chest pumping faster as he closes the distance between us.

“Is that what this is about? You don’t like my job, so you’re leaving me again?”

The hoarseness in his deep voice makes my heart squeeze painfully.

“I didn’t leave you the first time,” I rasp. “You left me , remember?”

His irises flare in disbelief. “Because you told me to.”

I can see exactly what he’s seeing. The night of our prom, so filled with hope, until I received the news about Cash… the night that we both knew that we wouldn’t be able to be together.

“I was seventeen, Jason!” I exclaim, my shaky voice rasping. “Do you really think that I could have lived with myself if – one year, two years, ten years down the line – you’d listened to what I wanted and realised that it had all been a huge mistake? People resent people who make their choices for them, so I’m never going to regret not standing in the way of your dreams. I never want you to feel that way about me.”

“I don’t and I never will, but we did our time apart, Sunday. You lived your life in Nashville. I did my time on the road. But you sold your bar and I left the Army, so what the hell is keeping you away from me any longer?”

“You’re still putting yourself in danger!” I explode. “I’m still at risk of losing you, every freaking weekend!”

He stares steadily down at me, his striking irises unreadable.

“You’re the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever seen, Sunday. Guys in every state will be lining up to win your heart.”

This time, I do shove him in the chest, because he just doesn’t get it.

My palms meet his hot rigid muscles and he grunts roughly, his eyes on fire.

“You’re irreplaceable!” I rasp, yanking my hands back before he can grab them. “And I thought that I’d moved past my fear but, you know what? I guess I haven’t.”

I’m always going to be afraid of losing you.

“Why did you leave Nashville?” he asks suddenly, and I blink up at him in shock. Because I thought that this conversation was going to be about him, not the other way around.

“I sold the bar,” I rasp slowly. Unconvincingly, judging by the sharp look in Jason’s eyes. “And… I wanted to be back for when Casey gets home. And… I’m on vacation.”

Jason stares down at me. Then he steps closer.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says. “Just because you sold the bar doesn’t mean that you’d leave Nashville. And you’re still shit-scared of this thing between us, so I know that this isn’t why you came home. At least…” He searches my eyes. “At least, it’s not the whole reason. And now that you’re doing up Casey’s bar, you’re working every damn second that I see you, so don’t give me the ‘vacation’ line when I know that isn’t true. You came here for a reason, Sunday, and I want to know why.”

“Fine,” I rasp, my resolve snapping like a crack of thunder. “You want to know why I left Nashville? I left because I’ve spent the past decade and a half building a legacy for my family, and then with one insane headline” – I click my fingers – “someone tried to burn it down. And when one publication comes after you? It makes everyone else think that they have free rein, too. Because, in case the story’s a dud, they weren’t actually the ones who started it – but they’re happy to capitalise in the meantime, even if it means seven million country music fans are out for your blood.”

I gather that without the full context Jason won’t really know what I’m alluding to but, from the way that his eyes harden, I think he understands just fine.

His deep voice is like gravel when he finally asks, “Are you kidding me?”

And the way that he towers over me makes my heart pound as my breathing turns shallow.

“You’re talking to me about danger… and then I find out that you’re in it, too?”

My lips part as my breathing catches, realising that… maybe he has a point.

And that heated gaze lingers on my bottom lip before sliding back up to meet my eyes, waiting for me to defend myself even though we both know that isn’t an option.

“It was some stupid article, and it had nothing to do with my job,” I explain, my voice breathless as he watches me with that unyielding stare. “Someone leaked a story to the press, trying to link me up with this huge country music star. And he has millions of fans, so some of them bought into it.”

And some people will cling to any story in order to diminish the accomplishments of a successful businesswoman.

“They made it out like we were having a secret affair, even though he’s just a friend. At first, I thought that it was silly, and that it would eventually pass and I could laugh about it. But the paparazzi were everywhere, and there was so much fan-hate, and all of these women… it became freaking wild and I just had to get away for a while,” I finish, suddenly so grateful that I’ve been away from my Nashville-problems in Phoenix Falls.

And then we’re watching each other in silence, the only sounds coming from our laboured breathing.

Jason swipes a hand through his hair and quietly murmurs, “Jesus Christ.”

And when he drops his arm back to his side, his intoxicating body-heat washes over me.

I slide my eyes down his heaving chest, rasping, “I guess you’d know all about the women.”

His eyes drop to mine, his brow arching. “What’s that now?”

I don’t really want to fight with him, but I may as well get it all out in the open.

“Halle? Denver? Every other pretty blonde that you see?” I remind him.

His brow lifts higher as he watches me, his biceps flexing beneath his long-sleeved shirt.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, his tone so cautious you’d think he doesn’t believe it.

Yes , I want to rasp. “Seems like you’ve got a type, is all,” I whisper instead.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Blondes?”

I lift my chin. “Yeah.”

“Sunday,” he rumbles slowly. “You were brunette when I first met you.”

I gape and clutch my heart. “I can’t believe that you just said that.”

Jason’s eyes dip toward my hand, placed over the soft sweater covering my breasts, and my body turns fevered under his gaze, making me tug off the jacket that I’d half-removed earlier.

His eyes flash back to mine and I grasp the table behind me, steadying myself.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you where I was going this morning,” he says. “It was barely five a.m. and I didn’t think you’d want me to wake you. If I’d known that you’d want me to, nothing would have stopped me.”

And the way that he says it makes my pulse quicken, like there’s a hidden meaning behind his words, and we both know what he’s really saying.

My gaze roams over his swollen chest and up his large rippling shoulders, well aware that nothing could stop this man from taking what he wants.

We’ve never fought before and this is new territory for both of us.

I breathe in a shaky inhale as I take in his search-and-rescue uniform – the utility pants that I can still make out the muscles of his quads beneath, and the official department badges sewn around the swells of his large biceps.

I let out a nervous breath as I swipe a curl from my face, embarrassed for showing so much of my long-neglected heart.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Jason shakes his head, like I don’t need to apologise to him.

“It was unfair to crash at your place when you’re so busy, anyway,” I say breathlessly, my gaze sliding up to his as he bears down on me. He steps closer and I back up, glancing at the doorway before I move toward it. “I won’t get in your way anymore. But thank you for everything. Sergeant .”

I say the last word without meaning to, a mischievous parting taunt, but before I can push past him Jason’s large palm captures my hip.

Our eyes meet instantaneously and my body flames as he tugs me closer, his rough fingers bunching my sweater and making me swallow breathlessly as he tightens his grip.

His solid chest presses against mine and we watch each other, unblinking.

“I wasn’t a Sergeant,” he says, that deep voice reverberating through my belly.

“What were you then?” I rasp.

“I was the Major.”

My heart skids in my chest, pounding so loud I swear he hears it.

And it all makes sense. No wonder he stayed in service for so long.

Because he became the highest enlisted rank in the entire Army.

Just like he had always wanted to be.

My back gently hits the wall behind me and my hands reach up to clutch his shirt, his other palm enveloping my waist and roaming slowly in a firm caress.

With both of his hands on my body his chest pumps heavily as he glances down at me.

And my cheeks burst into flames when I realise what he’s looking at.

“Nice sweater,” he rumbles, a hint of satisfaction in his low voice because yes, it’s his sweater , and I couldn’t bear to leave it this morning.

“Very funny,” I whisper, but then I’m no longer breathing.

Because Jason gathers me against his chest, searches my eyes, and kisses me.

It’s the softest kiss that I’ve ever felt, his lips warm and gentle as they move against mine.

His large palms squeeze my waist, the heat from his hands radiating through the sweater, and I instinctively pull him closer, wrapping my arms tight around his broad shoulders.

His coarse stubble scrapes over my skin and I release a pleasured gasp, reaching up with shaking fingers so that I can tentatively caress him as he kisses me.

And then he’s grunting and pulling back, keeping me in place as he calms his breathing.

He rests his forehead against mine, waiting in the silence so that he can gauge my reaction, and his gaze lingers on my heaving chest, his biceps bunching as he watches me.

I lift my eyes to meet his and molten hunger burns in his irises.

“You’re breathing really fast,” he says, his voice so deep that I press myself harder against him.

“It’s… it’s because of the argument,” I whisper breathlessly, even though we both know that that’s a lie.

He rumbles quietly, a low sound deep in his broad chest. An understanding sound, that makes me want to stay wrapped up in his arms forever.

Then I stroke the stubble of his jaw and his long lashes flutter closed, leaning into my touch.

“Wanna keep arguing?” he rumbles, the heated look in his eyes telling me what he really means.

I exhale hard and tug him closer, making him swallow as his quads knock against me.

And I don’t make him wait any longer, as I whisper a breathless, “Yes.”

He groans and hauls me into him, shoulders hunching as he lowers himself to my height, and his mouth caresses faster as his fingers finally slip beneath the hem of my top.

And the second that his skin meets mine he’s grunting roughly and massaging my waist, the heat from his hands making me lightheaded as I push myself against him, needing more.

He coaxes my lips open and slides his tongue against mine, the stroke long and warm as he lifts me against the wall. He positions his quads between my thighs, taking my weight on his rigid muscles.

“Can’t believe that you didn’t know I was the Major,” he murmurs, before kissing me deeper, and growling as I squeeze his swollen pecs.

And I’m just about to rip the whole zipper off of his work shirt when heavy footfalls sound from the corridor outside of the small room.

“…Just arrived in the lot if you want us to grab the load off the back?”

Beckett’s rough voice enters my consciousness at the same second that Jason drops me to the ground, his expression stoic and unreadable as he glances over his heaving shoulder toward the doorway.

Beckett’s brow hits the ceiling as his gaze bounces back and forth between us.

“Uh…” Beckett starts slowly, taking one step back, then another, before jerking his thumb over his shoulder and saying, “I’ll just be… over there.”

Jason watches him leave with such brutal authority that I almost feel a little intimidated when he drops his attention back to me.

And from the molten flame in his irises, he can sense exactly what I’m thinking.

“I have to go take care of this,” he says, that rough voice trying to be gentle for me. Then he caresses my waist, squeezing lightly. “We can keep fighting tonight.”

Warmth spills in my stomach, my thighs clenching at what he’s offering.

But I shake my head as I whisper, “I shouldn’t… we can’t…”

He leans down and I turn breathless, making him chuckle before kissing my cheek.

I clutch his uniform in my fists and his large hands cover mine as he watches me.

“I’m gonna prove to you that we can work. If you trust me,” he says quietly.

Don’t let your past rule your future , I repeat to myself as I search his eyes.

And then I pull his mouth to mine for one last kiss and I whisper, “I trust you.”