My Kind of Love (Finding Love 1)

“And what, now you don’t want to do that anymore?”

“No, I do… I just…” I was supposed to move to San Diego to be with Ian. That was part of our plan.

“You just what?” He’s not going to let me off the hook. I already know this about Ryan. He’s the kind of person to push you past the point of safe.

“Ian and I had this five-year plan.” I open my water and gulp down several sips. “When he died, it was like my life paused, and I don’t know how to press play again.”

“You will when you’re ready.”

Ryan

Micaela is a good eight years younger than me—barely an adult. But her eyes scream maturity. She’s experienced the kind of heartbreak that ages you by several years. I’ve never experienced it myself, but I’ve seen my men go through it. I’ve lost men along the way, on a couple of rough deployments. Shit goes wrong. But I’ve never allowed myself to be close enough to someone to feel the loss the way Micaela feels it.

She should be in college, going to parties, having a good time. Not struggling every day to just simply breathe. I have two older sisters—Faith and Chloe—and even though we aren’t as close as they’d like because of me being away more than I’m home, we still talk a lot. They’re close with Micaela’s family, so I’ve heard on a few different occasions how Micaela is handling the death of her husband—or not handling it. I don’t know what it is about her, but something draws me in and holds me captive. I want to cut her open, learn all of her secrets, her deepest wishes and desires, and then sew her back together and make them all come true. I shouldn’t feel this way. I’ve only been around her for a few hours. She’s too young, too jaded, and I’m… well, fuck, I’m just me. I’m—

“If you want to stay at the house I can go home,” she says, knocking me from my thoughts. “It doesn’t really matter where I am.”

“Or we can both stay here,” I blurt out, not ready for her to leave. I can’t remember the last time I felt this content. And I can’t help but think it’s because of her presence.

Her eyes go wide, and her mouth opens and closes like the fish she saved earlier. “Umm…”

“We’re both already here. There are plenty of rooms. I can cook, you can eat.”

Micaela glares adorable daggers my way, and I laugh. “C’mon, you brought weed and ice cream. That’s not exactly part of the food pyramid.”

“That was my only joint,” she argues. “I’m not a junkie. Lexi gave it to me.” She shrugs. “It just helps me forget for a little while.”

“Maybe it’s time to work on accepting and moving forward.”

She rolls her eyes. “There you go… doing that whole savior shit again.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll show you a savior.”

Before she can question what I’m saying, I’m picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder. She shrieks, slamming her fists against my ass and back, as I run us straight into the ocean. It’s cold as fuck, but it doesn’t deter me. Holding on to her, I dip us both into the saltwater.

When we rise to the surface, her hair is plastered to her face and forehead, and the little bit of makeup she’s wearing is running down her eyes.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she splutters.

I push the hair from her face and wipe under her eyes. “There are healthier ways to deal with what you’re feeling. No more getting high.” I give her the look I give my guys when I mean business, and she nods.

“It’s hard,” she says softly. Because the water is deep, she can’t reach, so she wraps her arms around my neck. Our bodies are adjusting to the water, so it’s not as cold anymore.

“I can’t even imagine how hard, but you’re still young and you have your whole life ahead of you. Would you want him to act like this if the roles were reversed?”

She thinks about it for a second then shakes her head. “No, I would…” She visibly gulps. “I would want him to move on. Live his life.” Tears prick her eyes and she takes a deep breath. “But it’s easier said than done.”

“Have you tried? And I’m not talking about moving on with another guy… just moving forward.”

“You sound like my mom,” she says with a huff.

“Well, if she’s anything like mine, she’s probably really fucking wise.”

“She is.”

“We’re both here anyway,” I say, ignoring how close our bodies are, the way they line up perfectly. She’s wrapped her legs around my torso and it’s doing weird shit to me. “Why don’t we stay and keep each other company. There’s a reason why we both came here, right? Plus, I have a little less than two weeks before I have to spend the next year with a bunch of guys crammed into a small as hell base in the fucking desert.”