Читать книгу Never Surrender - Lindsay McKenna - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

“COME HERE, BABY.” Gabe hauled her into his arms as he settled into the bed. They were clean, dried off and so damned weak it had taken them leaning on one another to make it to the master bedroom together. Bay had fallen asleep immediately. Gabe felt Bay’s softened breath, the warm moisture flowing across his chest as she slept deeply, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Her hand across his pounding heart. God, did life get any better than this? Hell, no.

Gabe closed his eyes, his woman in his arms, her body pressed wantonly against his, their legs entangled. Her hair was still damp, although he’d done his best to dry it off with a towel afterward. He’d seen the exhaustion in Bay’s half-closed eyes and knew she had to sleep off five months of brutal training. The darkness was complete in their bedroom. Gabe felt himself begin to utterly surrender against her warmth and curves.

He lay awake for a long time, his body still vibrating with simmering heat after having made love with her. Bay’s background was as a Hill person from the Allegheny Mountains of West Virginia. She was a woman of the earth, wild and completely natural. Her spontaneity was unfettered, freeing him from his dark and miserable past, infusing him with hope of a bright future. Love did incredible things for a human being, Gabe was discovering.

Closing his eyes, his arm wrapped firmly around Bay’s shoulders as she slept, Gabe couldn’t shut off his mind. Bay had come from a happy family, deep in the mountains, away from most of civilization. She’d lived and hunted in those mountains. Not only was she a crack shot, but her mother, Poppy, was a Hill doctor. Bay obviously got that healing gene from her. Her father, Floyd, had been a Marine Corps sniper and had started teaching her at a young age how to hunt and shoot. When her father died of Black Lung, she’d entered the Navy afterward to make money for her economically struggling family.

Moving his fingers slowly across her firm, warm flesh, he felt her inborn strength, her Hill backbone. Lowlanders, people who weren’t Hill-born, would say she was backward and uneducated. Nothing could be further from the truth. Bay was simple, homespun, and had a strong sense of right and wrong. When her father had become ill, she’d picked up the family mantle of responsibility, being the oldest, to feed and care for her mother, father and her mentally challenged younger sister, Eva-Jo.

A sigh slipped between his lips as he savored the darkness embracing them. He felt Bay’s hand twitch and move slightly on his chest. She was moving more deeply into a healing sleep, and that was good. His mind revolved back to her, back to her simple way of living.

When he’d met Bay last year in Afghanistan, he’d instantly felt attracted to her. It was her humbleness, the idealism she saw in others, her compassion, that called powerfully to him. In those four months of combat, they’d known they had something good between them, but they could never act upon it. Not in a combat team. Fraternization could tear a team apart. And it could get people killed. They’d cooled their heels, looked, but hadn’t touched one another. And only after Bay had come home after her six-month rotation out of the combat zone, did they realize the beauty of what they held in one another. Real love.

Frowning, Gabe thought about how at twenty-nine he’d thought he’d known what love was. He’d married Lily after five days of sex and heat. It was the stupidest choice he’d ever made in his entire life. He was divorced before he’d met Bay, hurting and wounded by the experience. He’d thought he’d known what love was, but he hadn’t.

Meeting Bay changed his life, but Gabe had been afraid to act on it for any number of reasons. And only in those thirty incredible days after she’d returned home to his arms, did he understand what real love was about. She’d given him her heart without games, manipulations or lies. That was the only way Bay knew how to be. And she had healed his heart in the process, taught him how to laugh once again, to love another once more.

A ghostlike smile curved the corners of Gabe’s mouth as Bay’s shallow breath continued to calm him, anchor him to the here and now. At Camp Bravo as soon as they’d made eye contact, something magical, something beautiful, had occurred between them. He ran his fingers slowly up and down her arm. Her heart thudded slowly against his rib cage, and Gabe absorbed every beat of it into his soul. Bay was alive, so sensitive and kind to everyone.

He continued to be amazed that she’d spent three years, half of them in combat with black ops teams, and still retained that sweet, simple disposition of a woman who held hope out for the hopeless. Bay had the inborn ability to pick someone like him up and, literally, change his life for the better. What kind of titanium steel backbone did she possess? A damned strong one, for sure. Combat changed people, and yet, Gabe had watched her handle it. Bay was...remarkable. A stunning example of a strong, passionate woman who knew what she wanted out of her life.

Gabe felt the corners of sleep tugging at him, dragging him downward as his heart started to beat in rhythm with Bay’s. She had chosen him as her partner. How lucky could he get? Of all the men on earth, Bay chose him. His last feelings were a deluge of love smothering him, dissolving his mind and taking him to that place of peace and tranquility, his woman in his arms, at his side. As it should be.

* * *

BAY AWAKENED SLOWLY, wrapped in a sense of protection and love. Dragging her eyes open, she lay on her left side. Gabe’s slow, deep breathing brought a soft smile to her lips. She was home. She was at his side once more. Easing up on her elbow, she watched the morning light peeking around the dark drapes at the window that faced the Pacific Ocean, which surrounded Coronado Island.

Her gaze moved lovingly across his sleeping features. Gabe’s hair was military short, mussed, softening the hard look and lines in his weathered, darkly tanned face. In sleep was the only time he looked vulnerable to Bay. Awake, he was a SEAL warrior, alert, always watchful, on guard. And how sweetly he bristled over his need to protect her. He was like a knight from King Arthur’s Round Table that she’d read about so often when growing up as a child. She remembered her mama reading about Sir Galahad, Sir Lancelot and beautiful Guinevere. At times she would lay out in a field of wildflowers, hands behind her head, watching puffy white clouds slowly move by. Sometimes, she imagined shapes within them of these powerful knights on mighty chargers who saved others.

The corners of her mouth tugged upward as she absorbed Gabe’s sleeping face. She took in his rugged features, trying to imagine his childhood, how horrible it had been on him. His drunken father had used him as a punching bag. He’d made sure to conceal the damage and bruises done by his fists and leather belt. And his father had made sure it was hidden from his mother, Grace. All he’d known as a kid was that fatherly love packed a fist and a punch. His father had sworn he’d kill his mother if Gabe ever breathed a word of his punishment to Grace. Bay couldn’t imagine how it would have affected her emotionally.

Tears gathered in her eyes momentarily as she imagined his past. A few dark strands lay across Gabe’s broad, lined brow. She wanted to reach out and gently tame them back into place. Bay knew if she did, he’d instantly awaken and become fully alert. On guard. Looking for an enemy. That’s what SEALs did; they took the fight to the enemy and they were always in harm’s way. They learned in BUD/S that five-minute combat naps could carry them for days without real sleep. Resisting the urge because she knew Gabe had just come out of intense training himself, Bay didn’t move. She wanted him to sleep.

Her fingers itched to touch his darkly haired chest, run her index finger across his full lower lip that knew how to bring her world into a fiery cauldron of hungry need for him alone. No one could love her to the depth and breadth that Gabe could love her. It was simply a part of his being able to touch not only her willing body, but gently hold her heart in his large, scarred hands and twine her soul with his own.

Drawing in a ragged breath, her body responded, knowing Gabe loved her on every possible level. How had she drawn such an incredible man like this to her? He was Sir Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere. He was a warrior. She was a healer. He knew combat, and so did she. And all they wanted was to find peace and sanctuary from a crazed world in the arms of one another.

Gabe shifted, his breathing changing.

Bay watched, mesmerized. SEALs had an almost telepathic and clairvoyant sense about them. They were such finely honed warriors in combat that their sixth sense was operational, much like an invisible radar moving three-hundred-and-sixty degrees around them all the time.

Gabe slowly emerged from sleep. He sensed her watching him, and although it wasn’t threatening, Gabe still felt her eyes—and her love—upon him.

His lashes fluttered. A soft smile played across her lips as Bay observed the slow opening of those drowsy forest-green eyes, now looking in her direction.

“I love waking up with you,” she whispered, leaning across Gabe, her breasts skimming his chest, her mouth grazing his. Bay kissed him chastely, with love, not with sex on her mind.

Gabe’s mouth gently took hers, his arms wrapping around her. He groaned and pulled her more tightly against him. She reveled in the strength and yet, the utter tenderness of his mouth cherishing hers. Bay drank in Gabe’s breath, like life feeding her, opening her heart even more. His hard, lean muscles flexed against hers, drowning in the splendor of his mouth, making her feel hunger for him all over again.

Easing back, Bay broke the kiss, drowning in his expression. He watched her, his hands framing her face, holding her prisoner. His pupils were large and black, a thin crescent of green surrounding them. Bay could feel Gabe coming awake on every level, absorbing his intensity, his powerful, consuming love for her.

“Can we do this every morning for the rest of our lives?” he rasped, smiling up into her sleepy features. Bay’s warmth, her womanly curves fit perfectly against his body. Her full mouth drew into a wry smile, her blue eyes sparkling.

“Soon,” she promised huskily.

Grunting, he released her for a moment, pushed himself into an upright position, the covers falling away to his hips. “Not soon enough,” Gabe growled, dragging Bay into his arms, guiding her head against his shoulder. Bay slid her arm around his waist. Nostrils flaring, he hungrily inhaled her sweet scent. Bay had a special fragrance, a natural one that sent him into a powerful sexual response.

Gabe knew she had to be sore from their lovemaking last night. He needed to hold off and let her relax. Today was for Bay. He’d been planning it in his mind for months since they’d been separated. Love, she had taught him, had so many aspects. Love wasn’t always about sex, although, God knew, Gabe always wanted to be in her, love her, make her smile and sigh and watch her eyes grow sleepy and sated because he’d love her so thoroughly and completely.

“Want a hot bath?” he asked, his lips pressed against her hair, the curls tickling him.

“Mmm, that sounds wonderful. Are you joining me?”

God, how he wanted to, but Gabe knew better. “No, you need some down time, baby. We went at it pretty hard last night.” And then he smiled. “Pardon my pun.” Gabe traded a boyish grin with her.

She sighed, closed her eyes and squeezed him. “I’ve never made love in a shower before.”

“You said you wanted to swim with the sharks.”

Laughing softly, Bay nodded. “So I did. It was my fault, but I’m not sorry. Are you?”

“Sorry for loving you?” Gabe pressed a kiss to her brow, the curls soft and silky around her temple. “Never. I’ll have to be dead and gone before that would happen.” A chuckle rumbled up through his broad chest.

“That’s true,” Bay whispered, turning her cheek to kiss the strong column of his neck. “A bath sounds perfect....”

“Then let me get it ready for you. Stay here and just rest. All right?”

Bay didn’t want to leave the circle of Gabe’s arms. His unselfish protection surrounded her and made her feel utterly loved. Pouting, Bay tipped her head back just enough to catch his lambent gaze. His green eyes glittered with lust for her. Instantly her body reacted, a slow heat spreading throughout her lower body once again.

In truth, she was sore. Gabe was a careful lover, and she knew he would live in a special agony if somehow he accidentally hurt her. He knew what pain was all about and was always concerned he’d hurt her. It had never happened, and Bay knew it never would, but Gabe didn’t. Childhood pain patterns, she knew, bled over into an adult’s life like a stain they could rarely erase from their being. The care burning in his eyes touched her deeply.

“Okay, call me when it’s ready?” His secrets were safe with her. Sometimes, Gabe was that scared little ten-year-old where she was concerned. She saw Gabe struggle every day with that unconscious knowledge that he’d never been good enough to really have been loved by his abusive father. To know he deserved to be hugged. To be told by his father that he was proud of him. To know that he didn’t carry his father’s sickness or need to hurt others. It was up to her to fill that void. Heal that deep wound within him.

As Gabe kissed her brow and then left their bed, Bay closed her eyes. She was afraid he’d see or sense her sadness for him, and she in no way wanted him to see her unhappy. He could easily misinterpret it, blame himself instead of blaming his father who imprisoned him in that terrible, lonely, loveless space no child should ever experience. Bay had promised herself long ago that she would love Gabe with all she had, replace that darkness with her light, heal that soul-stealing wound within him and make him whole once more. She knew she could do it with time. She’d seen her mother heal her father’s war wounds, so she knew it could be done with her patience and love for Gabe.

As she lay there, head nestled on the pillow, Bay stretched out her hand, slowly running her palm over the warm sheet where he’d lain moments before. Maybe that was why Gabe had been powerfully drawn to the SEALs. They were an intense, small family in their own right. The men called one another brothers. They were fierce warriors who always protected one another. Gabe needed a positive male environment, and Bay thought the SEALs had provided him with that. The SEALs had, in effect, become like a surrogate father for him to grow into the man he was with her today.

God, how she loved him. She would work hard to ensure that he healed from his past and that their love was enough to make them whole.