Chapter 6
Devon
I have a skip in my step as I leave work and head home to get everything set up for tonight. A lot is riding on this date, and I need everything to go perfectly. This might be my only chance to win Suri over.
Pulling into my driveway, I hurry inside to shower and change.
I picked up groceries last night after my shift.
My plan is to pick Suri up, bring her home, and cook us dinner.
Hopefully, the private setting will allow us to talk.
I need Suri to open up to me, need to know how she’s feeling.
If anything else is bothering her, I want to know so I can fix it.
It’s the only way we have a chance of making it together.
I debate calling Grant or Cole to talk about my plan to romance my girl for the night, but by the time I’m dressed, I need to leave to pick up Suri.
My house is on the edge of town. I picked it because it was a single story, and I didn’t have to worry about stairs causing me any pain.
The doctors warned me about that when I was released.
On my last deployment, I was shot in the back, close to my spine, and in the knee.
I have screws in it now, but they warned me I would probably need a knee replacement later in life.
When I bought this place, I was thinking long-term. If Suri is happy here, I will be too. I hope that one day, sooner rather than later, my girl will be living here with me.
I drive into town and park outside Suri’s apartment. Her car is out front, so I know she’s home. I can’t hide my smile as I take the stairs two at a time up to her place and knock on her front door.
She opens it a second later, and my mouth waters at the sight of her clad in a pair of black yoga pants and a loose green t-shirt. The shirt slides off her shoulder, and I realize she’s not wearing a bra.
“Goddamn,” I groan.
Suri smiles happily, though she tries to hide it from me. “Well, hello to you too,” she jokes. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to pick you up for our date.”
“What date?”
“The one I’m about to take you on.”
“It’s been a long day. I don’t feel like getting all dressed up and—”
“You’re perfect. Come on, let’s go.” I lace our fingers together and tug her toward me, reaching behind her to swipe her keys off the entryway table. I lock the door behind us and lead her down to my car.
“Where are we going that the dress code is pajamas and slippers?”
“My place.”
“Your place?”
I open the passenger door and help her into the car. “Yeah. I thought I would cook dinner for you.”
“Oh.”
“And then we can talk,” I say, closing the door before she can argue with me.
The drive back to my house is quick and quiet. I can tell that Suri is nervous, her fingers twisting together in her lap as we drive out of town and toward my house.
“You bought this place?” Suri asks as we park in the driveway.
“Yeah. It was hard to find a rental in this town.”
“I know. I got lucky with my apartment.”
I cut the engine, and we climb out. I’m annoyed I didn’t get to open her door for her, but I assure myself I’ll make up for it later. I take her hand in mine and lead her up to the front door.
“What are you hungry for?” I ask as she follows me into the kitchen.
“Can you cook?”
“Yeah, I’m good in the kitchen,” I promise.
“How about spaghetti?”
“Coming right up.”
I pull out a stool for her, grab her hips, and lift her onto the chair. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’m okay.”
I nod and make a start on dinner. Suri’s eyes are on me, studying me, as I boil water and preheat the oven. I open a bottle of wine, pouring us each a glass. When I pass the glass to her, she takes a deep breath and meets my eyes.
“Why are you doing all of this?” she asks carefully.
I smile. “Because you’re mine.”
She sighs.
I don’t think she likes that answer. I take a deep breath, knowing I need to open up to her to gain her trust so she’ll lower her own walls.
“We went to school together, right?”
She frowns. “Yeah.”
“You want to know why I didn’t notice you back then?” I ask, putting the garlic bread into the oven.
“I already know why,” she mumbles, her face flaming with a blush.
“Why do you think?”
She waves to her body, looking embarrassed.
I shake my head. “You’re fucking gorgeous, baby. It’s definitely not that.”
“Then why?”
“I didn’t notice anyone back then. I couldn’t.”
She watches me, waiting for me to go on.
I clear my throat. “My mom left when I was a kid.”
“Devon, I’m sorry. I thought she died?” Suri says softly.
I shake my head. “That’s what my dad told everyone. It was easier than the truth. Didn’t make him look like an abusive asshole. It made him the victim.”
Suri’s lips compress, and she waits for me to go on.
“My dad is an asshole. Or was? I don’t even know if he’s still alive. I don’t care to know.”
“He was abusive?”
“Yeah. I was a burden. Worthless. Unlovable. I was told something along those lines all my life. He’d smack me around, hit me with his belt, whale on me if I royally pissed him off or embarrassed him.”
“I had no idea,” she whispers.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want anyone to know. It was easier that way. I tried to tell a teacher when I was in third grade, and when that backfired, I realized I needed to keep my head down and come up with a way out.”
“The military.” Suri’s eyes fill with tears, and I can see her heart breaking for me.
“Yeah.” I turn to add the spaghetti to the boiling water.
“So, even if I had asked you out back in high school…”
I shrug. “I honestly don’t know. I think I would have taken one look at you and been unable to stay away from you. Then I remember what it was like, and I know I would have had to, or you would have been in his sights, which meant you would have been in danger.”
She mulls over my words as I stir the spaghetti.
“Why didn’t you ask me out back then?”
“Because I look like this,” she states.
I devour the sight of her curvy little body. “I know. It’s a goddamn miracle that you’re still single. Lucky for me, or I’d probably be on trial for murder by now.”
“Oh my god,” she groans, rolling her eyes, but I can tell that she’s pleased by my words.
My girl likes to be praised. I don’t know how she can’t see how perfect she is, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing her how beautiful and desirable she is.
The spaghetti and garlic bread are done, so I hurry to assemble our plates and take my seat beside her at the counter.
“Total honesty, Suri?”
She blinks up at me. “Always.”
“I’ve wanted you for years. Ever since your first letter to me. If I hadn’t been in bootcamp and then serving, I would have come for you years ago.”
Suri nods and picks up her wine glass, taking a sip.
“I’m ready to be with you now. Nothing is holding me back.”
She stares at her plate.
I lean closer. “What’s holding you back, baby?”
“I-it’s hard for me to trust that you want me, I guess. I mean, I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if I had never written to you. We would never have met. We wouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I like to think I would have found you anyway.”
“I don’t think I’m your type. I mean, you look like that, and I’m—”
“I don’t have a type, baby. Just you. I’ve never wanted anyone except you.”
“Devon—”
“You’ve been driving me crazy for years. You think I haven’t been chasing you? Do you know what I’ve done to track you down? I’ve been looking for you all this time.”
Suri looks shocked.
“I was going crazy trying to find you. I went to the post office and tried to bribe them to let me look at their security videos. I thought about hiring a handwriting expert to narrow it down. I used to go back to Colorado and walk around, wondering if I might pass you on the street and know it was you.”
“I—you…”
“I was about to hire a PI to look for you. I was so fucking desperate.” I tilt her face up so she’s looking at me fully. “When you told me your name… fuck, baby, it was the best day of my life.”
I expect her to ask me a question or maybe tell me how she’s been feeling all these years, but she doesn’t do either of those things.
Instead, she leans forward and kisses me.