The Valentine's Arrangement (18 page)

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Authors: Kelsie Leverich

BOOK: The Valentine's Arrangement
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Chapter 14

Kale was sitting at home in his living room and the quiet was almost agonizing. The TV was playing in the background, his iPod was set to shuffle, and the box fan he brought in from his bedroom was running. Yet, it was quiet. The sounds were drowned out like he had hit the mute button in his ears. Instead, it was as if he was watching a silent film in his mind. All he saw was everything caving in around him, everything happening in one single, momentary, instant. Then black.

He remembered the few seconds before the explosion. He was talking with the medic that was riding along with them. Kale really liked the guy, he was young—maybe twenty two. He had a fire to him that Kale respected, a fire that put his whole heart into his job, a fire that reminded Kale of himself. He was a damn good soldier.

They weren’t talking about anything in particular, but he remembered the smile on his soldier’s face as he retold stories about his daughter—stories they all have heard a hundred times over. He liked hearing his soldiers’ stories though, listening about their families. It gave them something to look forward to, something to smile about; and in the hellhole they were in that was invaluable.

But just as easily as they were talking, just as easily as they were driving down a road they had patrolled time and time again, everything changed.

He didn’t remember a sound. He didn’t remember the roar of the explosion as it rang through the vehicle, he didn’t remember hearing the shouting from his men or the pop of firing weapons. There was only silence.

A singeing pain was ripping apart the skin on his cheek. Hot liquid streamed down his neck, soaking the material of his uniform. His head felt like it was a solid, heavy, block of ice. It was a burning pain, but not like a burn from a fire. It was the kind of burn that stung every nerve ending—a cold that buried deep, a cold that was so cold, it hurt.

A fog had lifted in front of his vision, his right eye seeing only a thick haze of gray. He closed his right eye, leaving his left open, and watched as a few of his men went into action, securing the vehicle, tending to those who were severely injured. His young soldier, the medic who had talked about his family only minutes before, was next to him; his head was rolled back and his eyes were closed. His arm was lying across his body like it didn’t belong to him, blood covering every visible inch of him. This wasn’t the first time Kale’s vehicle was hit by a roadside bomb. IED’s happened nearly every damn day and he has been in more than his fair share—Kale knew what he needed to do.

He placed his hands under him and pushed up onto his feet, but he didn’t get far. A strong hand clamped down on his bicep, supporting him as a slicing pain shredded apart his thigh, his body weight crumbling the muscles until it felt like there was nothing left of his leg. The pain traveled up his thigh, through his abdomen, and to his neck. He looked down at his leg as the pain ricocheted to his head, then his body fell to the floor and everything went black.

The pain meds his doctor prescribed him took the edge off the pain in his thigh but it didn’t do a damn thing to dull his mind. He would love to dive into a drunken pity party of liquor until the images were erased from his memory but that wasn’t his style. No matter how fucked up things were right now, he wouldn’t go to that place.

He was here. He made it out alive. He wished like hell he could say that about all of them, but they weren’t all so lucky.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would see them. Tomorrow he would face the little girl who no longer had a daddy. The little girl who would never run into her daddy’s arms again, the little girl who would never have the chance to give him hell as a teenager, or have him there to walk her down the aisle when she got married. Kale will have to give his condolences to a young widow who was too young to bear the loss of a husband. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will relive this hell for them and tell them the stories he was told—he would make sure they knew the last thing their fallen soldier was thinking about, was them.

The time after Kale lost consciousness was a complete void. He would slip in and out, and as romance movie cliché as it was, the one thing Kale thought about when his mind was in working order was Ronnie. When he woke up in Landstuhl Medical Center in Germany, his thoughts instantly went to her; that’s when he sent her the flowers. He knew he needed to lay it all out there. He had a second chance and he wasn’t going to waste it. But he never heard anything from her. He checked his email every single hour, even if it made him a pathetic sap, he didn’t care. But there was nothing, and that was answer enough for him.

When he was flown back to the States, he stayed another week at the hospital on post. He almost called her yesterday when he was released. Hell, he wanted to see her, but he didn’t want her to see him like this. No, if he was going to try to win this woman over, having her pick him up from the hospital with a mangled face and a battered leg was not the way to go about it.

Kale shifted his weight on the couch. He definitely could use one of those old man lazy boy recliners right about now. His leather sectional wasn’t particularly conducive to the comfort of leg injuries. He leaned his head back against the cold leather and shut his eyes just as a knock on the door broke through the room.

“Come on in!” he shouted.

He heard the door open, then shut, then the soft click of…heels? His pulse started to race as a swarm of bees inhabited his chest. He knew the sound of those heels—he knew whom those heels belonged to.

He listened as they clicked down the hall, stopping for a couple heartbeats before they took the last step, bringing her to the living room, finally bringing her into view.

Ronnie froze, her body going rigid as she stared at him. He couldn’t believe she was standing in his living room. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. A tight grey dress clung to her curves and showcased those beautiful legs of hers along with the tattoo that was on her thigh. He smiled when he looked down and saw the bright yellow heels that were on her feet. He took his time scanning back up her body, his eyes landing on her hair that fell around her shoulders in long waves, then to her red lips that were turned down in a frown. Finally, he moved his gaze to her eyes. She blinked slowly as they collided with his. She set a bouquet of flowers down on the bookshelf next to the hallway and started walking toward him.

Kale pushed himself up with his hands, supporting all his weight on one leg as he reached for his crutches.

“No sit,” she demanded. Her voice was just as sweet as he remembered it.

Kale did as she said, lowering his body back to the couch, wincing as a dull pain shot up through his thigh. “Ronnie, I’m so glad—”

“Don’t you dare,” she said, stopping just a stride away from him. She was close enough that he could smell her sweet scent, but still too far away for him to reach out and grab onto her.

“I can’t fucking believe you.” She slammed her palms onto her hips and her thick black brows dipped.

“Ronnie—” Kale tried again, but she cut him short once more, her anger teetering over the surface.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” she shouted, her voice cracked and she swallowed hard pressing her lips together as she closed her eyes and inhaled a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back?” She opened her eyes and they focused in on the deep gash that ran from the corner of his left eye down to his jaw. It was deep and thick, and the scarring was already evident. He knew it was hideous, he knew his face was never going to look the same again, and he knew his eye would never be back to normal, but when Ronnie looked at him, he somehow didn’t feel like a monster.

Her eyes dropped to the floor, and he saw a single tear trickle down her cheek.

“Damn it, Sweetheart. Don’t cry. I’m fine.” He attempted to stand up again but he stopped when Ronnie lifted her gaze and pinned him with a look that paralyzed him.

“I am so fucking mad at you right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. She was mad, but mad at what? That he was hurt, that he didn’t tell her he was hurt? He hadn’t heard from her and now she was standing in front of him like she was out for blood and he had no idea why. But he was sorry, he was sorry for the tears streaming down her beautiful face, and he was sorry for the pain in her eyes, and he was sorry that he was the one who caused them.

“I feel like I can’t even breathe. I feel like…” Her words dropped off and she closed her eyes. It felt like a million heart beats thudded in his chest before she lifted them. She silently crossed the space between them. His eyes grew wide as she climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist. Her hands grabbed the sides of his face and in one swift movement her lips crushed against his, shocking all the air from his lungs. Her lips were soft and sweet, her tears mixing in with the taste of her mouth.

The pain in his thigh she caused as she sat on top of him was worth the reward of feeling her body pressing against him. His body craved this; it craved her like he was a junkie coming off a high. He needed her; he needed to feel her—now more than ever. Kale’s hands wound around her waist and he clung onto her as if she was going to vanish before his very eyes. He wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t—this seemed too good to be real.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her lips as he continued to kiss her. A sob caught in the back of her throat and she pressed against him harder, her hands griping the fabric of his t-shirt. She was kissing him like he was a dying man, and if he was, what a way to go.

*****

The words sliced through her, stinging her insides and warming them at the same time. Who was she kidding, she missed him too. She wouldn’t be here right now if she didn’t. He inhabited the little space in her heart that was still open—it was small, but he crammed himself into it regardless and as much as she tried to deny it, to ignore it, she couldn’t anymore.

Kale’s mouth was so eager, his breathy pants coming in short warm puffs into her mouth. His breath was hot, and he tasted so good. Just like she remembered.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and gently pulled until her lips were no longer on his and her eyes were level with the stormy ones in front of her.

His stare was dangerous. It sucked her in; making her feel like she was spiraling through a black hole that led to somewhere she had never been before. But as scary as it was, it was tantalizing. She would stand on the edge and free fall down that black hole if it meant being here with him now.

She shifted her eyes to the side of his face where a thick angry, red scar raised off his cheek in an uneven bumpy line that traveled the length of his eye to his jaw. Ronnie lightly placed the tip of her finger below his eye, on top of his scar. Kale’s jaw clinched tight and he shut his eyes as her finger followed the course it took down the side of his face.

Her chest squeezed tight, her heart throbbing in an ache that was so unfamiliar to her she gasped for air. Her throat burned, and she felt a physical pain creep over her body as a sob raked through her back. She held it in, swallowing the anger and the fear that formed her unshed tears.

“You okay?” Kale asked gently. His strong arms locked behind her back and he pulled her close to him so her chest was lying on his. “I’m fine,” he whispered in her ear when her face found its way to the dip in his shoulder, her forehead pressed against his jaw, right below his scar.

“It could have been different, you could have—”

“I didn’t though. I’m here. I’m fine,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“How the hell can you say that? You can’t even walk, and your face…your eye—

“Because you’re here. I’m fine because you’re here now.

Yes, she was here now, and she needed to reassure herself that he was fine just as much as she wanted to make him feel fine. She tilted her head up and brushed her lips over his jaw line. She pressed her palms against his chest and pushed herself up, raining feather light kisses along the tender ridge that extended down his cheek. His body tensed as she shifted her weight on his lap and she realized she was leaning on his bad leg.

“Damn it, Kale. I’m sorry.” She rose up off his lap and started to swing her leg over him to climb off but his fingers bit into the flesh between her hips and her thighs and he pulled her back down on him.

“I don’t have a problem with pain, baby,” he said, repeating his words from the first time they slept together, a smile tugged on her lips as the memory hit her.

She carefully sank back down on top of him, trying to keep as much of her weight off his leg as possible. “I can see that.”

He tightened his hold on her body and pushed her down on him until she was completely on his lap. “I mean it. I want to feel your body on mine, so don’t even think about getting up.” That impish gleam appeared in his blue eyes making her smile, annoyingly making her heart do a little pitter-patter in her chest. “I wasn’t sure if I would ever get the chance to feel you again, I’m not going to waste it now because of my damn leg.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes.

“It’s true, Sweetheart. I thought about you every day. I thought about being buried deep inside your sweet body…”

Ronnie huffed and slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand.

Kale laughed. “Oh, don’t think I didn’t”—his lips fell from their lopsided grin and his eyes glazed over—“but I also thought about ways to make you mine. I needed you to be mine.”

“Kale, I told you how I felt, I told you what I wanted.”

“I know, baby. It’s what I wanted too—until I had you, but then I needed more. You don’t get it. I’ve never had a relationship with a woman before. I’ve never wanted one. I’ve never found anyone that made me want one, till I met you. It was never worth it until you.”

“Kale—”

He placed his fingers on her lips to stop her, but the look in his eyes alone sucked the words from her vocal cords. “Don’t. Just let me have you this one last night.” His hand hooked around the back of her neck and he pulled her down to his mouth before she had a chance to say anything—not that she could have anyway. He was so gentle when he kissed her, his lips just barely grazing hers. She shuttered against him when his hands slid up her leg, traveling agonizingly slow from her knee up her thigh. His fingers toyed with the hem of her dress igniting goose bumps on her skin, teasing her as he slipped his fingertips under the edge.

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