Jason wasn’t usually afraid of anything. He could lead men into a war zone or through a jungle. Stage a mock attack on the president’s bunker and withstand torture training.
Seriously, waterboarding didn’t scare him.
But when, on a hot September evening, he finished working out with some of his teammates and found his phone showing three missed calls from the winery where he was supposed to be getting married in two months’ time, and another three from his fiancé, Julie…cold, clammy fear crawled up his spine.
“This can’t be good,” he muttered under his breath.
“What is it?” Trick Novak opened his locker and pulled out a towel.
“I don’t know. The wedding venue.”
“Should’ve eloped,” Trick called from behind him.
Yeah, yeah. Most of his buddies had done the quiet wedding thing. A week in Hawaii or a trip to city hall.
But Jason was only doing this once. And Julie was going to make the most beautiful bride ever. He wanted to exchange vows with her in front of everyone they knew. She’d been a bridesmaid so many times, a cousin and a friend on the fringes of the celebration. He wanted her to be the center of attention in the biggest way possible on the day they got married.
He hit dial on his phone as soon as he found a quiet spot in the hallway.
Julie answered right away. “Oh, thank God, you’re done working out. Jason, it’s a disaster.” Her voice pitched up at the end, getting high and fluttery like she was going to start crying.
He winced. “Jules, take a deep breath.”
“Can’t. Too busy freaking out.”
He laughed at her attempt at a joke, but he had a serious concern she wasn’t kidding. “What happened?”
“The winery burned down. The reception hall is gone.” The last word dissolved into a groan. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. The wedding…we’ll have to…” She sniffled, rapidly cycling through a whole bunch of emotions. From freaking out to being sad, mourning the loss of the wedding she’d planned to the last detail.
He needed to get home, stat. “Okay, hang tight. I’ll be there in ten minutes, tops. Fifteen if you want me to stop and pick up wine.” Another moan, and he winced. That was the wrong thing to offer, given the circumstances. “Tequila?”
“Do we have any ice?”
“And ice.”
“And limes…”
“Everything you need for a margarita, babe.” He let out a sigh. “We’ll figure out a new plan. Promise.”
He jogged back into the locker room and gathered up his stuff.
Julie paced back and forth, staring at the binder open on the coffee table. In her shaking hands, she had a notepad and a pen, ready—sort of—to make a new to-do list.
They needed a new venue, obviously.
And everyone would need to be notified…she’d need to order new invitations. And what if the new location wasn’t a winery? Would the corkscrew favors still make sense? Maybe they should have gone with the breath mint tins after all.
They still could.
Then she’d have a hundred corkscrews, though. Maybe she could find a place to donate them…
Jason’s key turned in the lock, and she ran to the door to let him in.
“Hey,” he said as he leaned over an overflowing paper bag to give her a quick kiss. “You still freaking out?”
She nodded quickly. “So much.”
“Shitty news, I’m sorry. I read the news report while I was waiting in line to buy the groceries.” He shifted the bag so he had an arm free and he used it to herd her toward the kitchen.
Taking over and being in charge, just like she needed. “Thank you,” she whispered as she leaned into his side.
“We’ll figure this out. Drink first or plan first?”
“Drink. No, plan. We need to—”
He dumped the bag on the counter and cut her off with a kiss, his lips soft but demanding. We need this and nothing else. She melted into him and let his mouth play with hers, at first a gentle caress meant to distract. Then as his tongue slicked against hers, the familiar but still exciting rush of heat.
“Don’t distract me with sex,” she whispered as he kissed down her neck.
“I wouldn’t dare.” He scraped his teeth against the fluttering pulse point right above her collarbone. “I’m making you a margarita and we’re talking about where else we can get married.”
She laughed. Sure, it was still tinged with an edge of nervous panic, but he was funny, and this felt good, and it was going to be okay.
Between them, his phone vibrated. He straightened up and put his finger to her lips again. “Stay in this position. I’m not done with you.”
She rolled her eyes and moved away, pulling out the margarita makings as he answered the call.
“Yes, sir. It’s fine. I just got home.”
She watched as he rolled his shoulders back, squaring off in that unconscious way of his, pushing his six-foot-plus frame to its full extent. Ready for action. And as the conversation played out in front of her, she had a weird sense of deja vu.
“How badly injured is he?”
“I see.”
His gaze flicked to her on the next silent pause and her stomach clenched. “I…I’m getting married shortly, sir. Yes, I understand.” His jaw clenched. “Of course. Oh-five-hundred tomorrow. Thank you.”
The first night they’d met, she’d brought him back to her hotel room and a very similar phone call interrupted them mid-make-out.
Something told her this interruption was bigger. More inconvenient.
He winced as he hung up and slide his phone onto the counter beside her. “Where were we?”
She shook her head. “Don’t spare my feelings, Jason.”
He groaned and pressed his forehead against hers. “I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too. What is it?”
“It’s nothing yet.”
She rewound the conversation she’d just heard in her head. “There’s a mission?”
“Another officer was in a motorcycle accident. He was supposed to deploy at the end of next month.”
“And they want you to…replace him on tour?” She tried to swallow and couldn’t. A hard ball of feelings had lodged itself in her throat. “Jason?”
He kissed her instead of answering. No more softness. Now he pressed into her roughly, claiming her mouth, and she let him. No matter what, she was his. But they’d planned…a big, frothy wedding. Giant dress, two hundred guests, and a ridiculous cake that smelled like sugar and lemons and would somehow…
Never be consumed.
Her breath hitched as she launched herself into his arms, kissing him back. Damn it. She had two choices here. Freak out further, or put on her big girl panties and deal. There was no part of her that wanted to do the latter, of course. She wanted to stomp her feet and cry that seriously? Could nothing go right for her wedding?
But this man was going to be the best husband.
And their marriage was going to last a billion times longer than the party that would start it.
It would also have many more of these kinds of phone calls.
That was the deal.
So she kissed him with everything she had, clinging to him because she didn’t want to let him go, ever, but she always would.