Freedom of Love (Letter From Home #2)(24)
“I got a job as a flight paramedic,” I said. “The company flies all over the world on medical missions with patients that are injured or ill and I fly with them.”
Eyes wide, she exclaimed, “Oh, my goodness! That’s amazing!”
Shrugging, I said, “It’s a helluva lot easier than what I did in Afghanistan. These planes are equipped like hospital rooms instead of us bouncing around in the back of a helicopter.” Smiling at her enthusiasm, I said, “Tell me about the bookstore.” Her smile shook slightly and I felt her attempt to pull her hand away, so I tightened my grip, not wanting to lose the connection. “You can tell me…whatever it is,” I begged, wanting her to trust me.
“When I…uh…was released, the restaurant I had worked in didn’t have any positions available…or at least that’s what they said.” Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, as though it didn’t matter, but pain flashed through her eyes.
“But I was out one day and saw an old bookstore. I wandered inside and it was incredible.” Her face brightened as she continued, “It was full of people, reading, talking, working, drinking coffee.” Sighing, she smiled at the memory. “I thought it was the most wonderful place in the world. The owner, Gus, was bustling around and appeared to be overwrought. A customer was trying to describe a book they wanted but didn’t know the name. I knew what it was and ended up helping out.” She beamed again, adding, “Gus hired me that day! He said my past didn’t matter as long as I knew and loved books.”
“Sounds like a good man,” I said, returning her smile.
“Oh, he is,” she gushed. “I ended up getting a little efficiency apartment nearby, so I can walk to work when I’m not in school.”
Our hands separated when the food was delivered and I missed her touch. But if I had my way, there would be many more times I would feel her next to me.
Walking back out to my truck, I hesitated before opening the passenger door. She turned her face up expectantly toward mine. I’d meant to take things slow. I’d meant to give her a chance to get used to me. I’d meant for us to find out more about each other first. But with her sweet face peering up at me, all thoughts rushed out except for the desire to see if she tasted as beautiful as she looked.
Cupping her cheeks with my hands, I gently pressed her back against the side of the truck and with my body protecting her from the chill, I touched her lips to mine. Warmth spread through me as she responded to my kiss. And I discovered the intoxicating taste and knew I was lost for life.
Chapter 12
(December – Molly)
I hustled into the bookstore, my arms loaded with holiday decorations I had made to hang around the counter, shelves, and candlesticks. The delicious scent of roasted coffee beans tempted me as I winked at Richie, knowing he would soon have a steaming cup for me. Gus, wearing a bright red, knit, Christmas vest, smiled as I hurried over.
“Slow down, slow down,” he said. “There’s no fire, thank God!”
Puffing my curly bangs from my eyes, I dropped the decorations down on the counter before turning to him, my eyes wide with nervous energy.
Gus took my cold hands in his, rubbing them briskly. “You forgot your gloves again. Now tell me about your holiday weekend.”
Grinning, I said, “Oh, Gus, it was wonderful. The Stevens were so kind and welcoming.” Closing my eyes in ecstasy, I added, “And Rachel looked amazing. So grown up in the past year.” A flash of pain flew through me as I admitted, “I missed last Christmas and her birthday. She’s now sixteen and beautiful!”
“Well, if she looks anything like you, she would be beautiful,” he said, pulling me in for a hug. “And what of your young man?”
Blushing, I ducked my head. “He was going to go home to see his family for Thanksgiving, but said he didn’t want to go without me. And since I wanted to see my sister, he came with me.”
“He’s a good man, that one,” Gus nodded approvingly, patting my shoulder, before walking back to the counter.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I wondered, Yes, he is…but am I worthy of him?
I had just put the finishing touches on the roast when I heard the knock on the door. Throwing it open, I beamed at Brody before jumping into his arms.
“What have I told you about using the chain on your door before opening it?” he groused fondly.
“But I knew it was you!” I protested, cupping his cold cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss. Determined to warm his lips, I licked the seam and as he groaned, I thrust my tongue into his mouth.
His arms tightened around me as he walked me backward and kicked the door closed with his boot. My little efficiency apartment was one large room with only a screen dividing the bed from the living and kitchen area. Every time he had been there, we tried to ignore the bed, placed discreetly in the corner. But right now, the choice between heading toward the small sofa or the bed was no contest—I wanted him to take me to the bed.
As though reading my mind, he walked around the screen. He laid me down gently on my bed, our lips separating only briefly. Crawling on top of me, keeping his weight on his arms to keep from crushing me, he latched onto my mouth once more.
I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down on top of me, wanting to feel his weight pressing onto me. Sliding my legs apart, I felt his hips settle between my legs, his erection against my core.