Authors: Arianna Hart
Tags: #Military;Navy SEALs;Wounded Warrior;small town;returning hero;injuries;love;family;amputee;ptsd;son of a preacher man
“I can sleep anywhere. My old room is fine.” He hefted his bags over his shoulder and followed her through the kitchen.
The first sight of his big, strong father sitting strapped to a chair, his right arm hanging limply and his face distorted from the partial paralysis, was a kick in the gut. It was all he could do to hide his reaction. Memories of his friends coming to visit him with either false cheerfulness or pity in their eyes kept his face blank, but damn, it was hard.
He ditched his bags in the hall by the stairs and crossed the living room to his father. “Hey, Dad, I’m home,” he said, his voice a little more husky than he’d anticipated. He knelt down on his father’s left side and hugged him.
Automatically, he noted the changes in the room, and that his mother was talking to someone quietly, but he quickly dismissed those details. His entire focus was on holding his father close. It took a few moments before he could choke back the tears and look him in the eye.
When he did, the tears threatened again as his father’s blue eyes were already overflowing. He gripped Grant’s hand tightly, and Grant was reminded of when he was a little kid and had to get a shot. His father would tell him to squeeze as hard as he could until it was over. “Don’t you worry, Dad. We’ve got this.”
Ellie’s heart beat darn near out of her chest as she hustled up the stairs to the little balcony that ran along the back side of her apartment. Holy cow, but Grant Anderson was still
hot
. Not that she should have doubted it, but it had been years since she’d seen him up close.
She’d watched him as he had come through the kitchen, desperate to see him again. He hadn’t shown any hint of a limp from his artificial foot when he rushed to his father’s side. Ellie had been brought to tears when she saw those two strong, injured men hugging. She’d had to leave before she embarrassed herself completely.
Part of her had wanted to give the family their privacy for their reunion, but a selfish part of her wanted to stay and take in every aspect of Grant’s presence. It had been hard to tell for sure, but she didn’t notice any huge scars. There might have been something along his neck, but nothing crazy obvious. It certainly didn’t detract from his chiseled jaw and gorgeous blue eyes.
In high school, he’d been nicknamed the Viking because of his height and Nordic good looks. Now that he’d filled out in his chest and shoulders, he looked even more like a warrior of old. It didn’t take much imagination to envision him wearing a horned helmet and swinging a sword.
She’d taken extra care with her hair and outfit that morning, even though she’d known when she got up at the crack of dawn it was a waste of time. Grant hadn’t noticed her even to say hi. Ellie laughed at herself and her starry-eyed little daydreams. She’d have to tell Peter about it when they went out tonight.
In the meantime, she needed to head to Canton to get a mani-pedi for her
date
. She hadn’t made an appointment, just in case Mrs. Anderson was delayed or wanted her to stay at the house longer. Now she’d be lucky to get squeezed in with enough time to get back home and get ready. It didn’t matter, seeing Grant hugging his father had been worth having to run like a crazy woman now.
Chapter Three
She looked good. Better than good. Ellie twisted this way and that in the full-length mirror, loving the way the dress shimmered over her body. Mel was absolutely right about the silk fabric, the way it molded to her gave her curves she never knew she had. The pushup bra didn’t hurt either.
The planets had aligned, and not only had she been able to get a mani-pedi, but a last-minute cancelation at the salon had opened up a spot with Sara, her favorite stylist, and she’d gotten her hair done as well. Good thing too, or she’d never had been able to get her wispy bangs to behave the way Sara did. The low bun was neat as a pin and Sara had taken the floaty layers around her face and gelled them into almost knife-sharp angles that accented her high cheekbones and large eyes.
Ellie felt bold and daring in the dress. Peter was right about the stilettos. They made her legs look long and sexy whenever the slit parted and her leg flashed out. Tonight was going to be so much fun. She couldn’t wait for Peter to see her. She put the finishing touches on her makeup and checked her teeth for bright red lipstick. That would be just like her, to have everything else put together and smile with a huge smear of lipstick on her teeth.
Her cell rang and she grabbed it out of the tiny beaded clutch on the table.
“Hello? Peter?” she asked, looking at the display. She hoped he wasn’t calling to say he’d been delayed, it was almost five.
“Sweetheart, I’m pulling up the drive now. Will you be crushed if I don’t meet you at the door?”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll come on down. I’m ready.”
“You’re supposed to make me wait. Don’t you know how to use your feminine wiles?”
“What feminine wiles?”
“Exactly. I’m here.”
“Good, you can wait at the bottom of the stairs in case I fall in these heels.” She hung up and checked her purse to make sure she had her license, money, lipstick and a credit card. After one last giddy spin, she walked out, loving the way her shoes click clacked against the floor.
Peter let out a wolf whistle as she turned to pull her front door closed. Mrs. Anderson stood next to him as Ellie made her grand descent.
“Look at you. Don’t you look all beautiful and sophisticated. Like a super model.” Mrs. Anderson clasped her hands together in front of her, smiling for all she was worth.
“I feel like one.” Ellie laughed as she carefully made her way down the long staircase that ran along the outside of the garage.
A twitch of the curtains in Grant’s room caught her eye and her stomach jumped. He must have wanted to see what all the noise was about. Good. It didn’t hurt her ego any to have him seeing her looking her best for once.
“Darling, you look fantastic. I’m going to be the envy of every man there.” Peter kissed her cheek, careful not to mess up her makeup. “And I have just the thing to complete the look, hold on.” He leaned into the car and pulled out a bag from a boutique in Canton.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said, even as she moved the tissue paper aside.
“It’s just a little thank-you present for not making me go to this alone.”
“Oh, it’s beautiful. Help me put it in,” Ellie said as she lifted the sparkling gold comb out of the box.
Peter deftly inserted the comb above her low bun. “There, it goes beautifully with the earrings. I knew it would.”
“I wish I could see it.” Ellie pretended to pout.
“Here, I’ll take a picture,” Mrs. Anderson offered.
“Oh, good idea. Will you take a few? Who knows when I’ll get the chance to dress up again?” Ellie gave Mrs. Anderson her cell phone and posed with Peter.
“I feel like I’m at the prom,” Peter said as he followed Mrs. Anderson’s directions on how to stand. “I knew I should have gotten you that corsage after all.”
“You two do make a handsome couple.”
“If only he was a foot taller,” Ellie joked. With her heels on, she towered over him.
“I’m just the right size. Now we’d better get moving or we’ll miss the cocktail hour completely.” He held the door for her to slide in and whistled again as her skirt parted to reveal her leg to her thigh.
“Y’all have fun. Be careful driving back.”
Ellie waved to Mrs. Anderson as Peter backed the car up. As the curtain in Grant’s room slid back into place, she felt another spike in her heart rate. She had a funny feeling this was going to be the most fun she had all night.
Grant heard the crunch of tires on the driveway and checked the time at the clock above the sink. Well, well, well, Cinderella returned from the ball before midnight. He was surprised when he heard only one door slam and the car head back down the drive. Easing the door closed behind him, he hid in the shadow of the house and watched little Ellie Hall, who wasn’t so little anymore, sit on the steps leading up to the apartment over the garage.
Hmmm, maybe the night didn’t go as planned? If he’d been out with her looking like that, she sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting alone on those stairs. He shifted his weight slightly and the hydraulics in his bionic ankle clicked and echoed in the silence.
“Mrs. Anderson?” Ellie called, sitting up straighter and searching the shadows.
Busted.
“No, it’s me, Grant.” He walked over to join her by the stairs. This close, he was captivated by her huge, hazel eyes. The blues and greens in them swirled together like the colors of the ocean.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” Her voice had a controlled quality to it that he associated with someone who was drunk but trying not to show it.
“No, I was in the kitchen getting a snack. I’m still on California time.” Which wasn’t a complete lie, although he’d long ago learned to adjust his body clock instantly to whatever time zone he dropped down into.
“Oh.” She stood and wobbled a bit. “I was just enjoying the spring night a bit before I headed to bed. I love this time of year before it gets so hot.”
“Off to bed so soon? It’s not even midnight yet.” He leaned in and caught the light floral scent of her perfume. It was subtle but potent, and he felt a stirring in his groin.
“After spending the evening listening to the press corps making speeches, I’m lucky I’m not already catatonic. Never give those people a microphone and a captive audience.” She hiccupped.
“Boring, huh?”
“Boring doesn’t begin to describe it. No wonder they have open bar. It’s the only way to survive.”
“It’s too bad your boyfriend didn’t take you out on the town afterward. You should be dancing ’til dawn wearing a dress like that.”
She let out a low, husky laugh, and he felt his cock harden. “Peter is my friend, not my boyfriend, and I can barely walk in these shoes, never mind dance. Besides, if we tried to dance together, it would look like something out of a comedy sketch.” She pointed her toes and he got a good look at the ankle-breaking spikes she had on her feet. He also got a fantastic view of legs that went on for days. Her boyfriend, or whatever he was, was a fool.
“Do you mind if I keep you company for a while then? My folks go to bed early and the only TV is in the den, which is now their bedroom. There’s only so many games of solitaire I can play on my phone before I go insane.”
“I don’t mind at all. Do you want to sit down?” She looked at his prosthetic leg, which was clearly visible in the shorts he’d put on after his shower.
“I had enough sitting on the plane, I don’t mind standing.” He saw the questions in her eyes and tensed, waiting for what would come next.
“Is that the BiOM by iWalk? I’d read about it when I heard you were getting one, but haven’t actually seen one in person.” Her question surprised him. Not many people had heard of the BiOM before.
“Yeah, I’ve had it for six months.”
“I remember your mom talking about it. She said you were on a waiting list. From what I’ve read, it’s a godsend to people with prosthesis. How long does the battery last?”
He could see she was more interested in the mechanics of his fake foot than the fact his lower leg had been amputated. His shoulders relaxed. There was no pity in her eyes, just curiosity. “It’s been a godsend for me, that’s for sure. I’m still finding the limits to what I can and can’t do with it, but it’s made me feel normal for the first time in a long time. I can do stairs, ramps, even nature trails with no problem. The battery lasts for around six hours, depending on what I’m doing. I have a spare so I always have one on and one charging.”
“Makes sense.”
“Being prepared can solve half your battles before they even start.”
She hiccupped again. “I’m sorry, if I have even one more glass of champagne than I should I get the hiccups. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Nah, I think it’s cute.”
“I’m too tall to be cute. Puppies are cute. 5’10” Amazons are statuesque.”
“You can’t be too drunk if you can pronounce statuesque correctly.”
“I’m not drunk-drunk, just tipsy. It’s the bubbles, you know. They do it to me every time. I should stick to white wine, but the flutes of champagne just looked so sophisticated, I couldn’t help myself. I should probably get a glass of water and go to bed. Tomorrow morning could be very ugly.” She wobbled a bit as she turned.
“Whoa, you’re a little unsteady on your pins. Why don’t you let me help you up the stairs?”
“You don’t have to do that. It’s just the shoes. I don’t wear stilettos all that often,” she said, but didn’t resist as he wrapped his arm around her waist.
“It’ll make me feel better to see you safely to your door, like a gentleman should.” Like her date should have. He didn’t say it, but his tone must have indicated it because she giggled.
“Peter is a gentleman, but I told him I wanted to look at the stars before I went to bed. Besides, this isn’t Atlanta, it’s not like he had to watch me get inside so I didn’t get mugged.”
“Bad things happen everywhere.” In her high heels, she was only a little shorter than him, a novelty for sure. Her body pressed along his from torso to thigh, and her face was mere inches from his mouth. He had to remind himself that she was inebriated and didn’t realize that plastering her slim form all down the side of him wasn’t a smart thing to do to a guy who hadn’t been laid in months.
“I guess you would know that, but I don’t think Dale is exactly a hotbed of crime.”
The slit in her dress separated every time she took a step up, playing a sexy game of peekaboo with her thigh. He tried to pay attention to what she was saying, but he couldn’t help but wait for the next glimpse of that long, shapely limb. Thank God, there were a lot of stairs leading up to her apartment.
“I don’t suppose you locked your door?” he asked as they reached it.
“Don’t be silly.”
Out of habit, Grant took a quick glance around, noticing the balcony that ran around the back of the apartment, the wide-open windows and the wind chimes that hung off the railing. The back of the house faced the woods and the support poles to the balcony would be easy to climb. If someone wanted to get inside her apartment, it would be child’s play to sneak through the woods, shimmy up a pole, slide over the railing and into the window. And she thought he was
silly
to suggest she lock her door. She had no idea how vulnerable she was.
“Why don’t I take a look around, just to make sure?”
“Sure of what? That no mad rapist is lurking in my closet? It’s
Dale
.”
He tried to dial back his instincts. Instincts that had been honed to a sharp blade by years in combat situations. But she was right. This wasn’t Paktika province.
“I guess you’re right.” He stepped away from the door but made sure his frame blocked her smaller one as she opened it.
“Thanks for keeping me safe from the boogie man.” She turned and looked up at him, her face only inches from his. “You know, when I was a teenager, I would have given my right arm to have you walk me home.”
“Ah, really?” What did a guy say to something like that? He barely remembered her.
“Yup, as would have most of the girls in the county.” She smiled and a dimple winked near her lush mouth. “But then I wouldn’t have had the guts to do this.” Going up on tiptoes, she planted a soft, sweet kiss on his stunned lips.
Before he had time to process more than
yum
, she sank back down and stepped through the door.
“G’night now. Thanks for the assist on the stairs.” And she closed the door gently in his face.