Hidden Ink (Montgomery Ink #4.5)(15)

He leaned forward again and kissed her softly, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. “I would be honored to help you. You can trust me, Hails. I’ll take care of you.”

She put her hands on his chest and moved forward. “I do trust you. That’s why I told you. Why I want you to do my ink.”

Sloane kissed her again. “I’ll do anything you need me to do. And when you’re ready for me to start it, I’ll be by your side, making sure it’s exactly what you need. For you to ask me this…” he shook his head. “You blow me away, Hailey. You f*cking blow me away.”

She smiled at him then, and he was lost.

He loved this woman, loved everything about her, and now he had fallen that much deeper. He just prayed he could keep her.




The bomb blast hit his Humvee hard, and his brain rattled. Sloane gasped for breath, the fire burning around him all but searing his skin. He reached for his brother, but couldn’t feel him. Couldn’t feel much of anything.

Just the pain.

Sloane sat up in bed, sweat pouring from his skin as he tried to swallow. Only he couldn’t breathe, and he had to keep his heart from pounding right out of his chest.

Fuck.

He hadn’t had one of those nightmares in years. He knew he’d never rightly forget that day, but he thought he’d move past the night terrors that kept him up, that kept his hands unsteady and his eyes red-rimmed.

Sloane grunted as he pulled his legs to the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands. He just needed to take a few deep breaths and then he’d be fine. He’d done this countless times before. PTSD didn’t go away with happy thoughts and willpower alone. He knew it might never go away, but at least he wasn’t struggling on a day-to-day basis. He was doing far better than some of his friends from the service. Hell, at least he’d come home whole. Or even come home at all. His body might be covered in scars, but he’d kept his limbs and his sight.

That had to count for something.

The thought of loss and coming through made him think of Hailey and he sobered rapidly. He’d only been to war. Only fought and lived, coming out mostly whole.

She’d lost far more than he had.

And yet he felt like she was doing so much better than him. She’d fought with grace, or at least he figured she had. She’d even told him about the tattoo she wanted him to give her. When he thought of his situation, all he’d done was live—when so many hadn’t.

No one else in that truck had lived through that roadside bomb.

Only him.

How was it he deserved to be here? How did he deserve to come home and be with a woman who made him feel like everything would be okay?

He didn’t deserve it.

But he was just selfish enough to go through with it. Somehow, he’d have to figure out how to live with that.

After he’d kissed her again the night before, he’d told himself he needed to leave. There had been a lot said that day, and they both needed time to let it all sink in before they took the next step. As they’d both said the night before, they were past some of the initial awkwardness that came with getting to know someone on a date. They were already friends, already close. Now they would be closer. He didn’t know when they would sleep together, but he knew it would happen once she was ready.

He frowned. She’d said she had no nipple sensation, but did she lose anything else?

Sloane would have to ask her that outright. There was no way he’d hurt her if he had the chance to make things easier for her in the long run. Maybe he’d do some research on what others dealt with so he knew the right questions to ask. Considering he knew from his own therapy with PTSD that everyone’s treatments and aftermaths were unique, Hailey wouldn’t be textbook. But at least he’d be somewhat prepared when and if they went to bed together.

They weren’t young, well, he wasn’t anyway, so he wasn’t going to be some nervous kid when it came to sex. He’d make sure she got what she needed and do his best not to screw it up by hurting her in some way. It wasn’t that she was different from other women he’d been with—though she was because she was Hailey—it was just that he was so f*cking scared. He wanted to make sure he didn’t mess up.

Somehow, in the course of a day, he’d gone from standing to the side, being near her but not with her, to dating her. He didn’t know if they had a label, but it was at least a new step in a direction he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for.

Sloane stood up and ran a hand over his head, noting he’d need to shave again soon. He liked the feel of the air on his bald head, so he kept it shaved. He’d done it in basic training and hadn’t stopped since. It didn’t seem to bother Hailey, so he’d keep it.

Today, he had to go to work and act like nothing happened in front of the others. Sure, they’d heard her storm into his section, but they’d at least pretended not to listen. He didn’t want them to give Hailey or him shit. All the while, he’d want to ask her what was going on and scream that he’d kissed her at the top of his lungs.

If he weren’t sure of his age, and the fact that he was nearing forty, he would have thought he was some damn teenage boy getting to kiss his first crush.

Hailey was his first for a lot of things, though, so maybe that made sense.

His first friend he’d fallen for. The first woman that he knew would be nothing but serious after getting out of the service.