Page 6 of Make You Love Me
“Now, give me your best jokes while I finish looking over your chart.”
Chapter 2
Jordan
Are you ready to get out of here, little brother?” Josie asks as she closes the last of our belongings and the shiny new wheelchair in the trunk of our Uber ride. Sergeant Montgomery offered to give us a ride, but I refused without mentioning it to Josie. She may be the best sister ever, but she’s never been good at accepting help.
She’s been that way all her life, even before our parents died while we were in high school. In elementary and middle school, our parents would leave her in charge of me and the house while they worked double shifts. After she graduated, Josie did the same, working multiple jobs and selling paintings to keep me out of foster care, put food on the table, and pay the bills.
It’s why our parents’ house is in such disrepair. Neither of us knew anything about plumbing or construction or yard work. Plus, it’s sat empty and forgotten for the past eight years while I served, and Josie chased her dreams. A neglectful combination no structure can survive, no matter how good the bones are.
I plan to fix it up with the money I saved and maybe one day start a family there. Nora is not one to jump on the commitmenttrain—or the kid train—but I can be very convincing when I want to be.
As we travel through Richmond and typical traffic for this time of day, I watch the world around me and wonder why she’s not answering my texts or calling me back. Josie said she heard Nora left town to deal with some family drama in Northern Virginia. Her mother is a bit of a handful, and Nora’s always putting her life on hold to pick up the pieces when her mother goes off the rails. But why keep me in the dark about that? She knows I will support her through anything.
Of course, Josie keeps telling me to stop worrying, but it’s not like Nora to ghost me. Okay, even I can’t think that with a straight face. Our relationship hasn’t exactly been fairytale-like. Although I like to think of myself as her prince charming, she’s slow to acknowledge the princess she is to me. She’s too busy taking charge of her life like Mulan to wait around for a prince as Cinderella did. But that’s okay. A strong woman is sexy.
Badass Marine training aside, maybe I’m the princess in this relationship. After all, she swept me off my feet the moment we met with her quick wit and caramel eyes. I love how she doesn’t hold back, her foot always unapologetically on the gas pedal. I may not always like what she says and does, especially when she’s being stubborn about her feelings for me, but I appreciate not needing a translator for her thoughts.
After we met at the Marine Marathon years ago, we got together occasionally when she was in the mood, and I had a night off. My favorites were the weekends we met up before I deployed. Her appetite for me was insatiable, like she wanted as much of me as she could get in case it might be our last.
A shiver runs down my spine and activates my lower half. Good to knowthatsection of my body wasn’t damaged in the crash.
Those days, separated from the outside world for forty-eight hours, we felt like a couple. Then, I’d ship off for eight weeks or more, and we’d start all over again when I returned. I didn’t mind. Casual worked for us, and we didn’t need labels, both content to use each other to satisfy our cravings, no strings attached.
But after my former unit—before I transferred to Sergeant Montgomery’s—was attacked overseas, everything changed. The distance she put between us grew more than usual, and it took extra effort to close the gap. And when she finally let me back in, her emotions were unpredictable, and I couldn’t gauge what she was thinking.
Eventually, after relentless pursuit, she agreed to be exclusively mine. It’s not like we were sleeping around before that. She just refused to call me what I was—her boyfriend. On the other side of it, I labeled her my girlfriend every which way I could until she accepted it.
Things were good—aregood—and as soon as I get her back in my arms, we can pick up where we left off.
???
Where we left off…
“I’m starving. Let’s go get some dinner and a beer,” I suggest, jumping out of Nora’s bed as if my legs weren’t weak from thirty-plus hours of extracurriculars.
It’s late on Saturday, and we haven’t left her bed since my leave kicked off on Friday morning. As much as I hate asking her to cover that gorgeous body, I need nourishment to continue what we started.
Plus, I have two other reasons for wanting to take my girl out tonight. First, I’m tired of keeping our relationship secret. We’ve been an official couple for two months, and there’s no reason to continue hiding in her apartment. Second, she means more to me than our current arrangement, and I’m not sure she knows that. After four years of sneaking around and treating each other like a one-night stand on speed dial, I want more.
“We could go.” She throws off the comforter, revealing every inch of her silky skin. “But that means covering up all this.”
My fingers and other parts of me throb to touch her. But the mission has already been declared. The plan is clearly defined, and I’ve executed step one. Since a Marine never abandons a mission, she can’t sex me out of following through on this one.
It would be tempting to let her try. I consider it until she flashes me a smile that isn’t her usual come-ravage-me look. It’s too smug, like she’s exploiting my weakness and doesn’t care if I know it.
Challenge accepted.
Tossing the shirt I collected from the floor, I leap on top of her. Greedy hands roam her body while I kiss her senseless—a little payback for the attempted diversion. I’m not the only one with weaknesses, and it doesn’t take much effort to get her hips bucking against mine, begging me to finish what I started.
She thinks she’s convincing me to stay right here to do what we’re good at, but it’s time for step two. “Put on your tightest dress.” I trail kisses down her neck and breasts. “I want to see and feel every one of these delicious curves. Something that will take a long time to peel off you later.”
“Are you seriously planning to leave me wanting?” she purrs, but the sensual tone isn’t working—not enough to change my mind, anyway.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it worth the wait.” I smack her on the ass and crawl back to grab my shirt at the foot of the bed.
“Maybe I’m not hungry.”
