Page 130 of Smith

Captain Taylor was no longer Captain Taylor, at least not in an official capacity. He’d done what he said he was going to do and put in for separation. But Aria was right, his terminal leave didn’t start for another week. And the house he’d bought using Aria as his proxy didn’t close for two weeks.

It would seem one of those extra four rooms would be seeing some use.

Lucas looked back to his daughter and smiled.

I knew what he saw and I knew why his smile was gentle as he scanned Aria’s face.

The last time he’d seen her in person she’d still had bruises. In the four months since, he’d seen her only through a screen during their video calls. Now, her pretty face was mark-free. Not even the stitches above her brow had left a scar.

“Gave over thirty years to the Navy,” Lucas said. “They were feeling generous when I told them I wasn’t going to miss my girl’s party.”

“The Navy never feels generous,” Aria skeptically returned.

Lucas shrugged.

“Dad, are you AWOL?”

Holy shit.

“Technically speaking, my leave starts next week,” he dodged.

“Dad—”

“Aria, I missed a lot, which means you missed a lot. I wasn’t missing anything else. Not this. Not you getting this after you went through hell. Not you and Smith moving into your new home. I’m not missing one more damn celebration. I gave a lot, you and your mom gave more, I’m taking this. We earned it. Now I’m here to celebrate with my girl and her family. I’ve been in airports for twenty-six hours, how about you let me get a beer so we do what I came here to do?”

Aria’s forehead hit her dad’s chest.

Lucas’s eyes drifted back to mine.

Months ago he’d given me his approval. Since then, we’d stayed in touch. At first it was updates on Aria, then it naturally slid into more. I couldn’t say he treated me like a son—I was too old for that shit. I could say he treated me like a friend who he respected and that went both ways.

But right then, he wasn’t given me his approval or blessing.

His gaze was full of gratitude.

I didn’t deserve it, but I sure as fuck was going to take it.

I foundAria in front of her sink brushing her teeth.

It was late, everyone had left, we’d spent time with her dad, and he’d gone to bed after Aria gave him his pick of rooms. Proving the man was smart, he’d picked the one farthest from our room. The last time he’d stayed with us, Aria was recuperating. This time, she was healed and it had been a long three months sleeping next to her, holding her but not touching her. The last month of that three-month dry spell, torture. She was almost healed. Her ribs had stopped aching which meant she got grabby. I was determined to give her ribs the full three months they needed.

She was of another mind, which meant she’d dialed up her cute, and a few times nearly broke my resolve. A month ago when her doctor gave her the all-clear, the floodgates opened, and our already active sex life went into overdrive. This was not a complaint. My woman liked my dick, liked my mouth between her legs, had no problem showing how much she liked both. Which meant I happily, gleefully gave her both copiously.

She spit, rinsed, spit again, doing all of this while holding my eyes in the mirror.

I knew that look.

I loved that look.

And in three minutes, I was going to take advantage of her invitation.

“Good day, baby?”

“The best.”

I’d take that answer.

“You know what would make the day better?” I asked, fitting my chest against her back.

---