JACI
“What’s all the racket in here?” Becca stood in the arched opening between the kitchen and the dining room, hands on hips looking every inch the base commander rather than my bossy older sister.
“Cooking,obvi.” Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the counter and back to my chopping. I’d been thinking of the hot major next door for the last half hour as I prepped our dinner. My encounter with Rafe on replay as I took out my frustration on the onions and diced tomatoes for homemade spaghetti sauce.
“Okay. So, who is this man that’s sexier than Brad Pitt? Or do I already know him?” Stepping to my side, I felt her concern wrap around me. “And what did he do to piss you off?
“No one. Just the handsome neighbor who told me he’s moving away in three weeks.” I slapped the knife down on the cutting board and let my head fall backward. “Why now? Just when I’m feeling open to maybe start dating again, do I meet someone who ticks all the boxes and saved me from face-planting onto his garage floor like a newborn foal. He’s moving in a few weeks, and oh, I know this makes no sense. Sorry.Sorry.” Picking up the knife again, I scooped the now annihilated veggies and plopped them in the pan on the stove to sauté.
A few silent moments ticked by, and I couldn’t take it. “Tell me I’m crazy. That real life doesn’t work like this. But, Bec, I swear it felt like…like….”
“You couldn’t breathe from the first moment he touched you. Looked at you? Sorry, I can tell you that in real life, it can and does happen exactly like that.” My sister’s eyes welled with unshed tears as she smiled at me.
“Oh, Ben, right? It was that way for you with him?” Wiping my hands quickly on the damp towel next to the cutting board so I wouldn’t mess up her uniform, I hugged her tight. She rarely spoke about him, and when she did, I was always in awe that she’d, that they’d been so sure of their love for each other at only eighteen and nineteen years old.
A few tears and sniffles filled the moment between us before she stepped out of my hold and then took my hands in hers. “I’m not sure that it doesn’t happen more than we think. Why people are hesitant to believe in love at first sight has always confused me. And yeah, it was definitely that way with Ben.” Her voice shook with emotion and reverence as she said her late husband’s name.
I’d wanted to talk to her forever about why she’d never remarried or had, to my knowledge, any other serious relationships. But with five years between us, she’d left for the service when I was still in middle-school. We didn’t have any of the sister bonding time as teenagers like most of my childhood friends had, then Becca met Ben, got married, and less than a year after that she lost him to bomber who’d chosen to end their life and any innocents around them on that fateful day.
Before I could open my mouth to ask, she added, “Trust your intuition, Jaci. One of the reasons I’m still single is I’ve yet to find anyone else who gave me the same inner knowing that Bendid. And believe me, I’ve tried.” Her expression had become unreadable. She gave me a quick hug, then left the kitchen.
My head spun from last night's events. Rafe’s devastating kiss, the brief yet intense advice from my sister. All of it had left me drained. But all of it reminded me that I had handled each situation on my own and come out the better for it. Even with my sister and her unexpected declaration of what most people poo-poo’d. That there was such a thing as instalove, and I just may have experienced it for myself.
So, what was I going to do about the sexy silver fox major who lit me up as his muscular arms held me close, saving me from injury or at least a bruised ego while sporting an erection the size of my frying pan handle?
The memory of our kiss played on repeat throughout dinner and homework time, where every other sentence Simon spoke included either Rafe or Duchess’s name. “And he told me she didn’t have the heart to hurt the bad guys, and that’s why he adopted her. But I think it’s because he doesn’t have any kids and he was lonely.”
“Maybe. But you know not everyone has children, or gets married, right? Your Aunt Becca doesn’t. Do you think she’s lonely?”
Simon stopped writing his math answer but didn’t hesitate to answer. “Nope. She’s got Stephen. They’re not married she said because they’re good with the way things are.” He looked me right in the eye and added, “Don’t worry, Mom, Aunt Becca is happy. But maybe we could get a dog like Duchess, then we could all take care of it?” Hope shone in his ever-changing face. This kid of mine was growing up way too fast, amazing me daily with his insights and resilience.
“Hm. Well, a dog is a huge responsibility. I’m not saying no, but now isn’t a good time, hon.” I should have seen the requestcoming based on how much time he’d been spending with Duchess and Rafe.
“But Major Rafe could help us train it. And then Duchess would have a dog friend to play with.”
Hugging him around the shoulders, I said, “Oh, honey, that’s a great idea, but they’re moving soon. Now, let’s finish up this homework; it’s almost time for your shower.”
Nodding, Simon let out a long sigh. “Oh, yeah. I kinda forgot.” He got quiet for a few seconds and then brightened up. “Can I spend the night at Tommy’s this weekend? His mom said it was okay, if you’re okay with it?”
Yup, resilient. “You bet.” The rest of the evening passed with no further discussion about getting a dog. But I hadn’t realized how much of an impression Rafe had made on my son until tonight. Wonder if Rafe knew it?
Once I was in bed that night, I couldn’t settle from all the talk about Rafe and Duchess plus that kiss was still floating around in my brain reminding me how much I wanted a repeat and more. I needed to find a way to see him again, without my son around and, thankfully, Tommy’s mom unknowingly came through for me this weekend.
CHAPTER SEVEN
RAFE
“I’m not sure, girl. He’s usually here by now, isn’t he?” Duchess had been on edge the closer it got to my usual time of putting her back in her kennel. I could have set a clock by Simon’s daily arrival to hang out with Duchess. I’d become used to having him around too, and his running stream of questions:
“Have you ever met the King of England?
“You say ‘chuffed’ all the time. What does it mean?”
“Major Rafe, how did Duchess get her name?”
“Did you know Dutch Shepherds can be traced back to all the ancient wild dogs of Europe?”
“How come you joined the Air Force?”
