"The King's very ready to step up to the mike for a performance. And more than one encore." Kicking the door closed, Jack sprinted across the room and fell on top of her. The bounce of the bed launched the cereal box and rained Froot Loops around them.
He captured her mouth with his. Breakfast at night never tasted better.
Caramel hair swirled around her shoulders, waves crimping it from hours spent restrained in a
French braid. His fingers combed through, couldn't get enough of the silkiness or the woman. "God, Monica," he groaned, rolling to his side, sweeping back her hair and enjoying the vision of her in his bed. "I can't believe you're here."
"It took some wrangling, but I worked it." She nipped his bottom lip, her eyes fluttering open to peer at him with emerald intensity. "I wanted us to have time alone together before all the family comes in this weekend for the baptism."
Quiet settled between them. Jack tucked her closer, brushed another kiss over her forehead, giving her the silent moment of comfort he knew she needed. Coming to grips with Sydney's capture had been an ongoing process for all three of the sisters, but they were women of grit. Perseverance. Slowly, healing came for all of them.
After a couple months of soul searching, Sydney decided for sure on adoption—an open adoption with Daniel "Crusty" Baker and his wife. Sydney and Blake had spent the last weeks of Sydney's pregnancy in Charleston with Monica so she could be on hand to assist with the delivery. Family pulling together. Finally, Sydney found peace in knowing her baby girl was being welcomed with undiluted joy by a couple who yearned for a child to cherish along with Crusty's two young half brothers.
Now Sydney and Blake were both ready to move forward with their lives. A few more months and they would be celebrating their first anniversary, as well, in a rock-solid marriage. Sydney was back at work, but staying stateside for a while. Maybe permanently, now fighting her battles by slicing through red tape and political channels with a newfound fiery strength that had people listening—and even opening their wallets at fund-raisers. Her new favorite project was the Pete Santuci scholarship fund, her heart touched by Yasmine and Monica's story of the young man who'd given his life to save her.
"Jack?" Monica stroked aside the hair on his brow, damp from hours under his headset.
"Yeah, Mon?"
Her hands urged him back toward her and he forgot about family and thinking and anything but the feel of his wife's busy fingers working his flight suit off his shoulders, his T-shirt up. A cereal O inched into his shorts. Not that he cared since he was otherwise occupied, his mouth on Monica's lips, her neck, biting her zipper tab to expose the most awesome damned br**sts ever encased in...
Champagne satin and lace? Ooh-rah. "Happy anniversary to me."
Monica's laugh vibrated under his questing mouth.
"Hmm." He nuzzled hot satin covering even hotter woman. "Where did this come from?"
She arched into the draw of his lips against a peaking nipple. "Shopping trip with my sister in Atlanta. Yasmine's really getting into this clothes-buying stuff." She gasped her rambling explanation between sighs and needy writhing over the cotton spread. "She should probably buy stock in Victoria's Secret for as much time as she spends scouting out new underwear to entice the Colonel with."
Jack winced, his face finding rest in the soft crook of her neck. "Okay, hon, that's more info than I needed about the Colonel's sex life."
Even as he razzed her, he couldn't stop the surge of pride over how hard she'd worked to establish a bond with her youngest sister over the past months. The effort seemed to be paying off if their shopping trips were anything to judge by. Yasmine and the Colonel even joined them for Atlanta Braves' games.
"Although—" Jack eased her zipper down farther to see if this bra was part of a matching set...and it was "—if shopping with your sister brings about more of this, maybe I can just plug my ears when it comes to discussing what she bought."
"There will be plenty more shopping in the coming weeks with her wedding next month. God, what a zoo it's going to be."
No doubt about that since Yasmine had insisted there would be no slinking off to hide their nuptials because of age-difference whispers. The Colonel had slipped a solitaire fit for a princess on her finger in record time, but then insisted on a long engagement to give her a chance to adjust to her new life. Ever fair, the Colonel wanted her to be sure.
And Yasmine Halibiz soon-to-be Cullen was damned certain.
Her job as an emergency room trauma nurse kept her busy while her fiance was out in the field. That, and shopping jags for more gifts to spoil Drew's granddaughter rotten.
Monica snuggled closer. "And, oh, my God, you should see the veil she picked to go with her gown." She flopped onto her back. "It's a wonderful mix of her old country and new. Although the Colonel's going to have to fight his way through a lot of lace to get to her for the big kiss."
A question niggled at him. "Do you ever regret that we didn't have a big wedding?"
"Not a chance." She turned on the pillow to look at him. Her husky drawl rang with resolution. "We got the best of everything. A small family service when your brother blessed our vows. A big bash with our friends later. All that and an Elvis impersonator. What more could a girl want?"
He could think of a million things he wanted to do for this woman, out of bed as well as in. Luckily, somehow he'd convinced her to spend the rest of their lives together so he could work his way down that list. "What more could you want? I'm hoping you want me. Now."
"That's a sure bet." Her leg hooked over his hip. >Five steps closer to the plane, the thudding pulse under his hand slowed to an almost normal pace. "Hey, flyboy, I'm going to need you to drop your pants again once we're airborne so I can check out your injury. Looks like you popped some stitches."
"You don't have to make up excuses to get me to unzip my flight suit around you."
Her laugh vibrated against his side, her heart easing that last bit to a regular rate. Making her laugh felt good. She made him feel good.
"God, Mon, I can't wait to have you alone so we can get messy, noisy and really busy."