Dear Soldier: BBW Contemporary Romance (2 page)

Ian

There’s only one woman at
The Happy Pot
that has a red rose splayed across her table. I notice her immediately, but not because of the rose. I see her because she’s the first thing
anyone
who walked through the door would see. In an ocean of granny square ponchos, oversized sunglasses, and bad Christmas sweaters, she stands out like a fish out of water.

Literally.

Something sheer and fin-like fans from her calves and shoulders, sparkling like dew under the antique chandelier tacked to the cracked ceiling. The heels cutting into her ankles look so big to walk in it wouldn’t surprise me if she claimed she’d swum her way here. Aqua and purple sequins stretch over her curves like scales.

Now, I’ve personally never found scales very sexy. (I mean, really, what kind of freak would?) Which is why, as I stand in the middle of the small, dark room as hipsters discuss Kafka and the TPP over fair trade coffee, I begin to question my sanity. Because suddenly scales are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life.

I want to run my hands over those scales. Hell, I want to run my
tongue
over them so I can taste every perfect, sparkling inch of her…

“What do you want?”

I blink, turning. A barista with bleached dreads and an
Earth Crisis
t-shirt frowns at me. “Your order.”

I shut my eyes. “Uh…coffee?” That is what they serve here, right?
Curves…

The barista keeps talking. “What kind of coffee?”

“I don’t know.” Coffee’s the last thing on my mind. I glance back over my shoulder.
God damn, those curves…
“What kind of coffee do you have?”

She sighs, gesturing at the blackboard behind her. “Well…”

As she starts rattling off names, I realize my mistake. That isn’t some sort of weird tribal pattern decorating the board. It’s about a hundred types of coffee written in the smallest, most illegible handwriting I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Nevermind,” I interrupt. “I’ll just have what,” I glance behind me, smiling, “the sexy lady dressed as a fish is having.”

The barista frowns. “Lily’s having a dirty chai.”

“Perfect.” Lily + dirty anything sounded
absolutely
perfect.

Clouds of satanic steam puff around the barista as she gets to work. “So, you’re Ian?”

Has Lily been talking to people about me? I smile, unable to hide my ridiculous pride. “You’ve heard about me?”

“Yeah. You’re the creepy guy who’s been trying to get her to send you naked pictures of herself over the Internet for the past two years.”

My grin falters. Alright, maybe Lily’s been telling people a little
too
much about me. “In all fairness, I’ve only been trying to get her to do that for the last three months.”

The barista looks like she’s about to chuck the dirty chai she just made in my face.

Oh man, this is not going well. “Look, Lily means a lot to me. I’ve been dreaming of her for a long time.”

Her frown deepens. “Yeah? What kind of dreams have you been having?”

Shit
. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

The barista’s fingers tighten around the cup. A line of foamy, dirty chai runs down the side of the cup over her white knuckles. Her blue eyes narrow, and I just know she’s weighing the consequences of drenching a customer with the satisfaction of putting an asshole in his place.

Reason wins out. She grabs a lid from the tower next to register, slaps it on the cup, and slides it across the counter. “I’m watching you. In fact, we’re
all
watching you.”

Who the hell was ‘we’?
I drop a ten dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change.”

She takes the money, flashing a grin that could only be described as demonic. “You think you can buy me off with a big tip? Think again. You try any funny stuff, you’ll be hearing from me. You’ll be hearing from
all
of us.”

I look down to hide my smile and just barely resist the urge to toast her with my chai-stained cup. I didn’t know who this barista was, but I could already tell she was gonna be a future pain-in-the-ass. I couldn’t be too upset, though. It was obvious she loved Lily, and how could I fault anyone for that?

***

Lily is toying with the petals of the rose like they were dog-eared pages of a well-read paperback. Either she’s nervous, or she’s playing a sadistic version of the game “he loves me, he loves me not.”

Lifting the dirty chai to my lips, I allow myself a selfish moment to take her in. And, good lord, was there is a lot to take in.

I hadn’t spent much time thinking about what Lily might look like. When she refused to show me her picture, I figured it was because something had happened to her. That was fine with me. I’d been a shallow asshole before becoming a soldier, but my years in service had changed me. I’d watched my men who I loved and respected go through hell, and I watched their struggle to pull themselves out of that hell. Anything—one’s looks, limbs, and motor skills—could be stolen in an instant by a stray bullet, bomb, or fire.

These experiences changed me. I wasn’t the same stupid rich kid who wanted to take home a different girl each night. I wasn’t interested in using drugs and driving fast and recklessly endangering the people and freedoms I’d fought so hard to protect. I like to think I’m now above such things.

Which was why I’m so uncomfortable with the amount of raw, animal lust I’m currently experiencing.

You see, Lily isn’t just hot. She’s a cornucopia of sex. A sexcopia, if you will. Or cornusexia, or…

Fuck. I can’t think. Not when I’m getting such a good view of those curves. In fact, the only thing wrong with the view was that there was not more to see. Her body seemed to agree with me. Every time she moved, it looked like those sparkling sequins were gonna start popping off one by one. Her hair was a puzzle of curls and knots begging to be untangled. My fingers tingled. I wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers through that golden mess. I almost groaned when she bent forward and bit her lip.

A strand of hair falls from the chaotic bun atop her head to her cheek. Small enough to escape notice, but just long enough to look lost. Suddenly and irrationally, I want to tuck it behind her ear. But I should probably introduce myself before I start touching her, right?

I circle the table and grab the back of the chair directly across from her.

She looks up and my breath catches. Her eyes are a deep, chocolate brown. It’s a stark contrast to her pale skin, like nutmeg sprinkled over cream.

My grip tightens on the back of the chair.
Keep it light, Ian
. “So, you’re drinking a dirty chai?”

She frowns. “How did you know that?”

“I asked your friend working behind the counter.”

“Avery? And she actually told you?”

Alright, I knew the barista didn’t think too highly of me but I didn’t think it was
that
bad. I needed to seize control of the conversation. Grinning, I lean to the side and ask, “So, what makes the chai here so dirty?”

I don’t think it’s possible for Lily’s beautiful eyes to get any bigger. “What?”

I clear my throat. “What makes the chai—”

“No, I heard you the first time. I guess I just…didn’t believe or want to believe…I mean, I’ve never heard a pick-up line so…”

I cringe. Yeah, this wasn’t my best moment.

She bites her lip again, this time trying to hide a smile. “Damn, I’m being a bitch. I mean, look at me, dressed like this and here I am giving you advice.” Laughing, she turns her head towards the front windows, absently rolling the petal she’d been torturing for the past few minutes into a ball.

I pull out the chair and sit. “Hey, your advice is good. And while it’s rare to see a woman your age dressed like that, it looks good on you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

I’m about to say something else, but her frown stops me.

She sighs. “Look, I’m sorry but I’m saving that seat for someone.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“No, not you.” She balls up another petal. “I’m meeting someone here today. Someone special.”

I freeze. Was she talking about someone else or…

A chilling concern creeps into my mind.
Does she not recognize me?

Wait, stupid question. Of course she doesn’t recognize me. She’s never seen me before. But doesn’t she recognize my voice?

She smashes the petal ball between her pointer finger and thumb. “So I need you to move. I don’t want you to scare this special someone away.”

My eyes narrow into slits, sharpening my vision. Is that really what she thought of me? “You think the presence of some random guy is gonna scare your special someone away? Really? What kind of man do you think he is?”

She finally puts down that poor, mutilated rose. “You don’t know anything about him.”

“If he’s that much of a pussy, I don’t
want
to know anything about him.”

She shakes her head, scoffing. “Wow. How mature.”

I grit my teeth and take another sip of my dirty chai.

Lily isn’t done yet. Not even close. “I’ll have you know the man I’m meeting is a refined gentleman.”

I almost spit my drink out all over the table. Unfortunately, I only avoid that fate because I inhale it. I grab my shirt, coughing.

Lily leaps into action. “Are you alright? Do you need me to perform the Heimlich maneuver?”

I shake my head.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I wheeze. Refined gentleman? Really? Even after five cocktails my own grandmother wouldn’t call me that. I glower, putting my fist on the table to steady myself. “He’s not a refined gentleman.”

And just like that, her sympathy for my condition disappears. “How would you know?”

“Trust me, I know. If he showed up for a date and saw another guy sitting in his place makin’ eyes at you…well, let’s just say that other guy better pray to God he’s your fuckin’ brother.”

Her mouth drops open.

I give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I’m definitely not a refined—”

“Get. Up.”

I frown. “What?”

“You think I can’t take care of myself?”

Oh shit. I didn’t mean it like that. “Look, that’s not the point—”

“You’re right, that isn’t the point. But I’ll give you a point, and I’ll make it simple so your caveman brain can understand it.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m only about ten percent caveman. Granted, that percentage jumps up a few points when I’m around you, but—”

She’s having none of it. Lily reaches for her purse, eyes hard and determined. “You have ten seconds to get out of that chair before I bust out the pepper spray.”

Damn. I forgot how ‘diplomatic’ she could be. “Lil—”

“I’m serious. The man I’m meeting is romantic and kind, and I’m not letting anything ruin our special day.”

First I’m refined. Now, I’m
romantic?
Okay, that’s it. “Lily, seriously, what is romantic about a guy halfway across the world begging you to flash a webcam?”

Her eyes fly open. “How do you know that? Wait, how did you know my name?”

“So, there’s something I probably should have said when I first sat down but in my defense I thought you already knew.”

That adorable blush on her cheeks blooms like a rose. “Oh god.”

“Yeah, oh god is right.” I reach across the table and put my hand over hers. “It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart.”

July 4th

Lily

I can see it now. My friends all asking,
Hey Lily, how did the meeting with the sexy soldier man you’ve been dreaming about for two years go?
And me telling them,
Oh great. In fact, less than five minutes after we met, I threatened to pepper spray him.

This was why my mother feared I’d never get married, and who could blame her? What
the hell
had I been thinking? There was only one possible answer: I hadn’t been.

In my defense, the man in front of me was hot in the way only daytime soap opera stars are hot. Deep blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones. Square jaw. A head full of dark, wild hair that’s slightly longer than it should be. And his body.
Jesus fucking Christ,
his body. It makes me reconsider my opinion of Empiricism—I think I need to touch that thing to make sure it’s real. Every part of the guy is so goddamn perfect that you can’t help but think to yourself that it would be a crime not to put the guy in front of a camera.

And then, the guy starts “acting.”

Or, in Ian’s case, he starts talking.

What makes the chai so dirty?
Really?
What kind of opener was that? And what the hell was he wearing? “You’re supposed to be in a blue and white t-shirt!”

He frowns, glancing at his shirt. “This isn’t blue and white?”

“It’s black!”

“No it’s…” he scowls at the shirt, “Navy. I think that’s what the guy told me. Which is a shade or hue or whatever of blue, right?”

“Alright, it’s navy,” I concede. “But where are the white stripes?”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

But it did matter. I just chewed him out.
In public!
I mean, hell,
I almost pepper sprayed him!
“You wear the shirt, I bring the rose. That’s what we decided.”

He smirks. “I think you could have skipped the rose if you were gonna dress like a fish.”

“I’m not a fish,” I tell him. “I’m a beached mermaid.”

He gives me the biggest WTF expression I’ve ever seen in my life.

Alright, I guess that didn’t explain much. “It’s a long story. You were supposed to carry me to my watering hole.”

The WTF expression is still there. “Mermaids live in watering holes?”

“Just, any hole with water in it…like the ocean…”

“I think the ocean’s a little bigger than a hole.”

I shake my head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s a theme,” I tell him.

His scowl deepens. “But what does the Fourth of July have to do with fish?”

“Beached mermaids!” I correct.

“Alright, what does the Fourth of July have to do with beached mermaids?”

I suddenly wish there was a seashell lying around that was large enough for me to crawl inside of. “Nothing.”

He laughs. “Look, I’m just teasing. It doesn’t matter if you’re supposed to be a fish or a mermaid or a Kraken…”

A Kracken!?!??! He thinks I look like a gigantic, octopus-like, blood-thirsty sea monster from the deep????

“…You look damn good to me,” he finishes.

I slump in my seat. “You’re just saying that.”

“Oh, are you
fishing
for compliments now?”

I poke his shin under the table with my toe. “Bad puns aren’t going to let you off the hook for comparing me to a freaking Kraken.”

He dazzles me with another grin. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, because I think those damn dimples of his would bring me to my knees.

And then, his sexy mouth ruins it. “Off the hook, huh?”

I let out an epic zombie groan. “Oh God. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

His blue eyes darken. “Is that so?”

My throat suddenly feels tight. Certain other parts of me suddenly feel tight, too, and the intensity of his gaze sure isn’t helping things. How can he make me go from exasperated to sex-crazed in less than ten seconds? It shouldn’t be possible. In fact, none of this should be possible. How is
this
the Ian who reminded me of the true meaning of honor and sacrifice? Who’d make sure to respond to my letters a few hours after reading them? Who’d been begging me to flash my webcam for the past month?

Alright, I guess he wasn’t a gentleman. Actually, he was kind of an asshole, to be honest, but he was a nice asshole. I was expecting some guy with a crew cut, skin reddened from the sun, and a nice smile. Someone quiet and simple and noble like the only other soldier I’d known: my brother. Not a guy like…
this.

“You can’t be Ian,” I whisper.

He raises his eyebrows.

His sexy, sculpted eyebrows.

His amazing…gorgeous…
oh my God why am I obsessing over eyebrows?
Who finds eyebrows sexy? Seriously, who?

I glare at him. “Prove it.”

“Prove what?”

“That you’re my guy.”

He grins. “You really want me to do that?”

Well, I had wanted him to. But now that he was grinning like that, I wasn’t so sure.

“Why don’t you think it’s me? Don’t you recognize my voice?”

“Your voice is a lot scratchier on Skype.”

“That’s because of static.”

I guess he had me there. “Still. You’re just…not what I expected.”

His grin becomes downright sinful. “Am I better?”

Was he better? Jesus Christ, I didn’t even know guys
came
like this.

He chuckles, reaching for his dirty chai. “I had a feeling our first meeting would be like this.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“With you running your mouth off and me thinkin’ of all the dirty ways I could silence it.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Believe it, sweetheart. I’ve been dreaming of ways to get you out of your clothes for over a year. I’ve gotten pretty creative.” He raises his cup, giving my “shells” an appreciative nod. “And it’s a good thing, ‘cause it’s gonna take a lot of creativity to get you out of that thing you’re in.”