Page 8 of Sloane

My laugh sounded nervous as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Oh, I’m just his pen pal.”

The look on their faces as they continued to study me suggested they weren’t sure if they believed my explanation.

Maddie let out a long moan, and with her mouth full exclaimed, “These are so good. Babe, you gotta try one.”

Craig moved to stand next to her and plucked one from the tray. More people stepped forward to grab a cupcake, but I got the impression it was more so they could get a closer look at me.

“Save some for Sloane!” Grace admonished.

Fortunately, the scrutiny didn’t last long when a military transport plane touched down on the runway and a loud cheer erupted from the crowd, echoing off the metal walls and concrete floor.

Uniformed personnel appeared and put-up stanchions, connecting them with retractable belts to keep the guests back as the aircraft taxied toward the hangar.

Once the jet came to a stop, two large portable staircases were moved into place at the front and rear of the plane.

Electricity seemed to fill the air as the crowd moved closer to the ropes, waiting for the doors to open. People bounced on their toes and craned their necks to get a better view of the plane. It felt like everyone collectively held their breaths as the doors began to move.

Another cheer went up when the first man in uniform appeared, soon followed by squeals and claps when people began to recognize their Marine.

As the men reached the barrier, there were tears, hugs, and kisses, then they’d quickly move out of the way to make room for the men coming behind them. I was surprised, but glad to see three women in uniform walk down the airplane’s steps.

Marine after Marine entered the hangar, but none of them were Sloane. So many people had disembarked that I began to wonder if maybe he wasn’t on the plane, after all.

“He’s always one of the last off the plane,” Ryan explained to the restless group waiting to greet Sloane.

The number of families at the front dwindled until there were only three or four.

That’s when I saw him appear in the plane’s doorway, holding his duffel bag over his shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat.

He was dressed in fatigues, same as every other Marine who’d gotten off the plane, but the sight of him took my breath away. His chest was broad under the tan t-shirt, and a hint of the tattoo on his muscular arm peaked out under the fabric.

But it was his swagger as he walked toward us that made my knees go weak. There was no question he was confident and in-charge.

When he was about thirty yards away, Tank must have recognized his owner, because he barked excitedly while his tail wagged furiously. The pup danced in place and let out a long, high-pitched whine while he anxiously waited for the man to cover the remaining distance.

I know the feeling, buddy.

Once Sloane crossed the barrier, Ryan released his hold on Tank’s leash, and the dog made a mad sprint toward Sloane, who’d dropped his bag and knelt to greet his fur-baby.

I understood how Tank got his name when he barreled into his owner at full speed and almost knocked him on his butt.

Sloane’s expression was one of pure joy as Tank jumped all over him, yelping and kissing him in the process. The rest of his friends ventured closer, and with one hand still on his dog, Sloane stood to accept Ryan’s embrace.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” I heard Sloane murmur as his friend gave him the two back slaps that always seemed to accompany any man hug I’d ever witnessed.

“Any time, man.”

I stood at the back as his welcoming committee formed a makeshift line to greet him, but instead of hugging Maddie, who seemed to be next, Sloane lifted his head and surveyed the crowd until his eyes met mine. A slow smile spread across his face, and my stomach dipped when he bypassed the friends waiting to welcome him home and stalked directly to where I waited on the fringe—my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Once he was in front of me, he didn’t say anything, just studied my face.

“Hi,” I murmured awkwardly as I brushed my hair behind my ear, wishing I’d worn the foundation after all as I squirmed under his stare. His blue eyes looked like the sea after a storm, and I found it impossible to look away.

I was about to offer my hand like I’d planned, but he reached up and cupped my face in his palms as he held my gaze, then still without a word, lowered his mouth to mine for a soul-stealing kiss.

His lips were warm and soft, and he tasted like cinnamon gum as he pulled my upper lip between his, then switched to gently suck on my bottom one.

Just when I thought he was going to release me, he angled his face as his tongue swept along the seam of my mouth, as if asking permission to enter. Permission I readily granted.

---