Dear Desmond (Love Letters 4)

“I think”—she kisses my nipple—“I’ve been falling in love with you a little more with each letter. I could love you bigger than the stars, higher than the sun.” My arms circle her as she talks. “I don’t want to be one of those people who had everything they wanted right in front of them but were too chicken to take it.”

“Neither do I.” I lift her chin, so she looks at me. “I want you, North. Have since that first picture and your broken words. I’ve f

elt a connection with you from the start. I don’t want you having regrets, however.”

“The only regret I’ll ever have is not keeping you in my life, Desmond.” Her smile is the only confirmation I need.

“Back at you, babe,” I mutter into her mouth. “Back at you.”

New Year’s Eve

One year later.

“Officer Rowe!” I hear my name being called, and I’m fucking pissed. My video call to North was cut short a few hours ago, and I haven’t been able to get ahold of her since then.

“What?” I snap at the officer calling for me as I leave my office. I’m back in Spain again as overwatch for another mission in Serbia, and I’d rather be almost anywhere else in the fucking world. Namely in my new wife’s bed, keeping her warm on what I’m sure is a cold damn night.

“Got a package for you.” He whistles as he leaves the break room. The door closes behind me as I enter, and before I can protest, the passage to the bathroom bursts open, and there she is.

“North?” She isn’t supposed to be here for two more weeks.

Wiping her mouth, she walks closer and kisses my cheek. “Sorry, I wanted this to be a lot sexier, but well, it’s positive!” She whips out a stick and practically shoves it in my face.

“You’re pregnant?” I’m thrilled and terrified all at once. “We’re having a baby?”

Her radiant smile says it all. “We are!” Her scream is followed by cheers outside of our door.

“Should you be flying? What did the doctor say?” I want to be excited, but she had to have taken at least three flights to get here.

“Breathe, Desmond. Everything’s fine. I’m only eight weeks along, and the doctor says I can fly until the third trimester.”

Eight weeks? That means…“Halloween?” She’d flown out to see me because my tour was extended.

“Yes.” Her beaming smile is radiant.

“Thank you!” I pull her body into my arms, hugging her tight against me, needing to feel her erratic heart beat in tune with mine. “Bigger than the stars.” I tell her. It’d become our way of saying I love you.

“Higher than the sun.” She leans in to kiss me lightly. “Can we leave now?” she whispers into my neck. “Steele said you were done for the day; he’d take over.”

“Yeah, baby, we can go now.” I’m sure my grin is lecherous as we leave to celebrate.

Thanksgiving

Two years later.

“Desmond!” I giggle. “Wait a hot minute, would you!” He’s advancing further on me. Our son, Jackson, is with my father for the weekend, and we finally have time to ourselves. After a year of not speaking to me, my father made contact, and we were able to reconcile our relationship, and he’s proven to be a wonderful grandfather to our son.

“Get your ass over here, North,” Des growls. His beard, longer and thicker than the first time we met, makes his animalistic demands seem that much more ominous. I’ll never admit to him how much I love it.

“You’ve gotta work for it.” I wink and run down the hallway of our little bungalow house. His heavy footsteps follow, and I feel his hand brush through my hair as I jump on our bed.

“Got you now,” Des groans into my back as his body towers over mine.

“You always have,” I whisper, looking back to him.

Spinning me onto my back, he opens my robe to reveal my nude body. “You’ve been a bad girl, Mrs. Rowe.”

“Are you complaining, officer Rowe?” A devilish tilt to his grin shows just how much he isn’t.