One Week with the Marine (Love on Location)
“No big deal?”
“Yeah, I love you. Who didn’t know that?” She shrugged.
He laughed, loud and big and joyful. “There are things we can do. If you want to be more than friends, I mean. We could—”
“Open the present. Then we can talk.” She nudged the box toward him, and he ripped the paper, only to find a cardboard box beneath.
“Oh, wow, you bought us a house.” He smiled.
“Don’t be silly. Keep going.”
He opened the box and lifted a suitcase out.
It was leopard printed. And pink.
“Uh, you bought a suitcase?” He touched the martini-glass charm dangling from the zipper.
Avery nodded and gestured toward the sparkly pull.
He unzipped the bag. It was filled with clothes, nighties, and an assortment of other items that would force him to play the curling iron or vibrator game.
“That’s all mine.” Avery’s smile wid
ened.
“What, are you going to move in with my parents? I don’t think Maryland is your style.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Your mother is horrible. I couldn’t live in those conditions. I’m going to war with you.”
His eyebrows raised. “You’re what now?”
“I know you have stuff you have to do. With the Marines, I mean. But I got a job with a travel magazine.”
This was happening. After all these years, all this time, she was all his.
But he couldn’t let her give up everything, give up her entire life just to be with him. “You can’t do that. I can’t let you. You have such a great life in California.”
“Yeah, I did. But I’m going to go where I’m happiest, and I’m happy with you. Wherever you are.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Seriously?” She tilted her head to the side and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Just say it.”
She breathed a deep sigh, but still, she smiled before pronouncing the words, “Because I love you.”
“Damn right you do.” He pushed her suitcase off the bed, sending the clothes in every direction as they tumbled to the floor. A giant mess. The perfect Avery touch.
Once the space between them was cleared, he lunged for her, knocking her back into the mattress and splaying her golden hair out in every direction.
He attacked her mouth, sucking her lip, breathing in her minty breath.
Then he traveled lower, kissing her neck, her collarbone.
“So, do you want to get married, then?” he asked. She stood up straight, as if a lightning bolt had hit her. She’d even knocked him off of her in her shock.
“I don’t think—” she said.