Page 71 of Memories of Us

“Holy shit!” I screamed and fell apart beneath him.

Brenton shouted my name along with a few curses before falling onto my back and pushing us down into the soft bed.

My hair tickled over my shoulder as it was swept aside, Brenton pressing light kisses along it and up my neck. He sucked my earlobe between his lips, sending a bolt of lingering arousal through my veins.

“You might be the death of me,” he murmured before kissing back down my neck. “How will I ever focus on anything other than you again?”

“Don't,” I sighed, eyes still closed, savoring the moment. “I like being your only focus. Don't go back. Then we can do this every day.”

A soft laugh brushed over my shoulder. “It doesn't work that way with the military. They call that going AWOL.” And just like that, the cherished moment ended, and the reality of our situation washed over me like a bucket of cold water. “But if there were ever a reason to abandon my post and brothers, it'd be you.”

“So you are going back.”

Cold air replaced where his hot skin had once been. A hand held my shoulder to roll me until I faced him.

“We talked about this. You know I am. You're amazing, we're amazing, but I still have to go back. I have a job to do, people depending on me. I'm good at what I do.”

“Tell me more about it. What you do.”

“I’m a part of a group called the Night Stalkers. We fly the best of the best our military has to offer into battle or fly into a war zone to pull them out. They need me, and I need them. The order the military life provides, the sense of control flying gives me.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It is, but I can get our men into areas no one else would dare fly. I take those risks because the reward is so great. I can't give that up.”

I shifted my stare from his eyes to the soft cream sheets. “I'm not enough to convince you to give it up. That's what you're saying.”

“That's not what I'm saying and you know it.” He walked to the bathroom, rolling the condom off as he went. Seconds later, he plopped back on the bed, facing the ceiling. For a second he only popped his knuckles before tucking his inked arms behind his head. “I'm saying... hell, I don't even know what I'm saying. I need a second to process it all. Four days ago, you were a figment of my imagination, a distant diluted memory, and now you're here. Plus learning about the baby and what I caused? It's a lot to take in.” He turned his head and locked his bright eyes on mine. “Let me work a few things out before we have this conversation, okay? You've had thirteen years. At least give me a day,” he said with a slight grin.

He was right. I pushed him to commit when the whole time I knew he was leaving at the end. What did I believe? That amazing sex and conversation would make him do a 180 on his life, make him want to make the ranch his home, giving up the career he'd worked hard for the past thirteen years?

“What would you say if I asked you to come with me?”

I took a shaky breath in and let it out slowly to give myself a second to formulate my answer. “I'd say... I'd say let me think about it. Uprooting my life—”

“Which you don't like.”

“True,” I mused and snuggled under the blankets, pulling them up to my chin to ward off the blasting AC. “But it's all I know.”

“Doesn't make it right, or what you want.”

“You sound like you're trying to talk me into going with you.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Are you?”

“I don't know,” Brenton said with a sigh, like the weight of the conversation sat on his chest, restricting his breathing. “All I know is the thought of you not being close makes me want to punch something. The idea of you going back to a town that turned on you, near a dad who treats you worse than the ranch dog, makes me want to take you with me, willing or not.”

Okay, that was kind of sweet in a kidnapping kind of way. I smirked at the ceiling before looking to him. “But it's not Texas.”

“Texas isn't the only state you can live in.”

The pillow molded in my grip. I flung it across the bed to smack his chest. “Watch your mouth, sir. Texas is the only state. Don't you remember learning that in Texas history?”

“Right,” he laughed. “Kentucky is still considered the south, you know.”

The earlier electricity that had pulsed through my body cooled. Exhaustion pulled my lids lower and lower.

“Beks?”

“Sleepy,” I somehow muttered before slipping into a deep slumber.

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