Leslie Kelly - A Soldier's Christmas - I'll Be Home for Christmas / Presents Under the Tree / If Only in My Dreams

“Says who? Maybe you should take another look at my left hand.”

He froze. Slowly lowering their joined hands, he stared at that left ring finger. It was totally bare. Not only was she not wearing any kind of ring, there was no tan line, no crease indicating she usually wore any jewelry there at all.

His heart spun in his chest and tension coiled low in his belly. But he didn’t allow the emotions to rush through him just yet. She was a veterinarian, maybe she just didn’t wear a ring.

“What, exactly, are you trying to say?”

“I’m not married, Rafe.”

He slowly exhaled the breath he’d been holding. She’s not married? Ellie was free? He couldn’t quite get his mind to wrap around that. He’d drilled the she’s-off-limits message into his mind dozens of times over the past three years, during the many moments he’d longed to reach out to her. But it wasn’t true?

“Are you divorced?”

“No. I never got married at all.”

“Why not?”

“It just didn’t work out.”

His jaw flexed. “Did he hurt you?”

She laughed lightly. “Oh, God, no. Denny and I are still the best of friends—in fact, I work for him at his new animal hospital. He’s married to my friend Jessie now.”

Barely able to take it in, he swiped a hand through his short hair, sure it was a spiky mess. He watched her rub her fingers against her own palms, as if she were dying to reach up and stroke that hair, to twine her fingers in it and pull him down so they could get back to that kiss they’d started three years ago on New Year’s Eve, continued outside and ached to finish now.

She didn’t, though. Rafe was still stunned, and probably looked it, too. He’d been telling himself for hours that he’d blown his chance with her and needed to accept the fact that she would only ever belong in his past.

But he’d been wrong. Everything had been wrong. He still didn’t quite believe it.

“I don’t understand.”

“I haven’t even dated a man since Denny and I broke up almost three years ago.”

“Three years...” The timing couldn’t be coincidental.

“It wasn’t New Year’s Day,” she insisted. She went on to admit, “But it wasn’t too long after that, either.”

“Ellie, what are you really saying?”

“I’m saying, silly man, that after I ran into you on New Year’s Eve, I realized I didn’t love Denny the way a woman should love her fiancé. And I also realized he and Jessie shot a lot more sparks off each other than he and I did.”

Sparks were critical in a relationship, the two of them had shared enough to do more damage to Chicago than Mrs. O’Leary’s cow, the rumored start of the Great Chicago Fire. How she’d thought she could happily marry someone without sparks, he had no idea. Friendship and companionship and common interests were well and good, but a relationship also needed a healthy dose of pure passion. Like the passion he and Ellie had shared once.

And still did, he strongly suspected.

“Running into you that night was the best thing that could have happened to me. It helped me see things more clearly.”

“Running into you wasn’t a coincidence,” he admitted.

“What?”

“I knew you were going to be at that New Year’s Eve party. My cousin’s wife told me.”

She fell silent, evaluating how she felt about his confession. Had he told her then, she might have resented him, especially because he’d sensed she was angry at him for piercing her bubble of boring contentment.

“I’m sorry,” he added.

She slowly nodded, accepting the apology. “It’s okay. It worked out for the best. In the end, I returned Denny’s ring, and by February 14, he had a new Valentine and I couldn’t have been happier.”

He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw, still watching her closely, praying he hadn’t caused her any more heartache. Because, after all, wasn’t his need to protect her from hurt the very reason he’d broken up with her in the first place? And hadn’t he cursed his own noble instinct every day since he’d done it?

“I’m all grown up, Rafe. I’ve got a great job, a ton of friends. I’ve traveled the world. I’m happy. I’m successful. But there’s one thing I don’t have—one thing I haven’t had in a very long time.”

“What’s that?”

She stepped close again, until one of her legs slid between his parted ones and their hips brushed. Lifting her hands to encircle his neck, she stared into his eyes and rocked the world beneath his feet with two simple words.

“A lover.”

* * *

ELLIE WATCHED HIM absorb her words and interpret her meaning. She’d issued an invitation—or maybe a challenge. She held her breath, wondering how he’d answer it.

“Ellie, I didn’t offer you a ride so we...”

“Shut up, Rafe,” she said, tightening her arms around his neck. “Don’t analyze it, don’t explain it, don’t talk about it. I don’t expect anything, I’m not asking for anything beyond tonight. Tomorrow will come no matter what happens. So just make love to me like I’ve wanted you to for the past seven years.”

He searched her face, as if memorizing her, making sure this wasn’t another dream.

“I’m real. I’m here,” she whispered.

“Thank heaven.”

No more words were needed. With hunger that bordered on desperation, he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her up against his chest, covering her mouth with his. His lips parted, his tongue thrusting deeply against hers. She welcomed him hungrily, loving his taste, wondering how on earth she’d survived so long without it. The kiss went on and on, seven years of longing wrapped up in it, and in that kiss she found the answers to so many questions.

Yes, he still cared. Yes, they still had incredible chemistry.

Yes. Oh, God, yes, this was definitely going to happen.

Her arms tight around his neck, she let him pick her up, those strong hands gripping her hips, his fingers squeezing and then cupping her backside. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, groaning deeply as her groin struck directly against his. He was powerfully erect, and she suddenly recalled how generously he was built. She shivered, remembering how that massive shaft had filled her to the brink.

Heat flooded through her, landing between her thighs so hard she had to rub against that huge erection just to gain some relief. He thrust back, and she cooed in delight as that hot ridge hit her clit and sent bolts of pleasure rocketing through her.

“Oh, Ellie,” he groaned against her mouth. “It’s been so long.”

“Forever.”

It hadn’t merely been ages since she’d had sex. But what she’d had with Denny, or with anyone else before him, just didn’t compare with this intense connection she had with Rafe. There was no thinking involved here, it was all instinct and innate understanding and such pure, utter connection. He had understood how to please her the first time he’d touched her. He still knew just how to kiss her, just how to stroke her, just how deeply to plunge and how gently to lick and how firmly to caress. Everything about him seemed tailored specifically to her.

And with him, she never experienced a moment of misgiving, not the slightest hesitation. She wanted to do and to be and to explore and to indulge. She wanted his mouth on her thighs, his tongue on her clit. She wanted to lick all that male heat until he was groaning and helpless, to suck him until he couldn’t remember one single day that they’d been apart.

A single snowy night somewhere in Pennsylvania could never be long enough to make up for all the nights they’d lost. But in case it was all they had—in case the passion was still there, but the emotions were not, or in case they had both changed too much to really work as a couple again—she was going to take whatever she could get tonight and deal with the fallout tomorrow.