Valentine from a Soldier(5)

I was about to say goodbye when a drunk guy bumped into me, pushing me even closer to Ryan. Ryan reached out to steady me, the touch of his warm fingers on my bare arm burning into my skin. Our eyes locked for a moment at our sudden closeness before we were interrupted again.

“Can I buy you a drink?” the newcomer slurred.

I turned slightly to face him, puzzled as to why he’d decided to approach me now. I was getting ready to leave and was obviously already having a conversation with someone else. “No,” I said, shaking my head.

“Just one drink,” he insisted, reaching out like he was going to touch my hair.

I took a step back, ending up nestled between Ryan’s legs where he remained perched on the barstool. His broad chest pressed up against my back, and I felt his muscular arms come protectively around me. I felt safe with him and wondered if he noticed that I was shivering slightly, taken aback by the drunk guy’s attempt to touch me. “She’s not interested,” he said in a deep, authoritative voice, holding up one hand to indicate the guy should back off.

“Sorry man, I didn’t realize you guys were together.”

Neither of us corrected him, and Ryan draped his leather jacket over me. “Come on,” he said, resting his hands on my shoulders as he got to his feet. He towered above me, able to rest his chin atop of my head if he wanted to. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

“Thanks,” I replied, warily giving the creepy guy a once over before we walked away. Ryan kept one hand lightly on my shoulder as he let me lead the way out of the crowded bar, almost as if just to reassure me he was still there. I hadn’t exactly planned to leave the bar with anyone, but Ryan was definitely the lesser of the two evils. Although I wasn’t completely sure that I wanted him to know where my room was either. The potential of spending time alone together outside of the crowded bar and in my hotel room sounded enticing, and somehow I sensed that it might lead to nothing but trouble. Trouble in the best sense of the word.

We walked into the elevator, and I pressed the button for my floor. Ryan hovered close to me but in more of a protective manner. Not that it mattered because the creepy guy from the bar was long gone. I was relieved to have him by my side though, still feeling slightly shaken up. We got off at my floor and silently walked down the hall to my room, Ryan slowing his long stride to match my pace. I stopped when we reached the door. “So,” I said, turning to face him.

“So,” he echoed, seeming unsure himself.

I kept his jacket over my shoulders, making no move to take it off. He stood gazing down at me, making no move to leave. Suddenly feeling bold, I met his blue eyes. “I still haven’t eaten. Want to order room service?”

“That sounds great,” he said. “I’m starving.” He flashed me a quick grin, and for a moment he looked like he was hungry for much more than just a good meal. I knew nothing would happen between us unless I wanted it too though, and I slid my card into the door, gesturing for him to come inside.





Chapter 2




Later that evening, I playfully tossed a french fry at Ryan, laughing as he teased me. We’d been enjoying a leisurely dinner together, talking and joking around back in my hotel room. I didn’t want to wear my bachelorette party black dress all evening, so while Ryan had ordered us food, I’d gone into the bathroom and pulled on a stretchy camisole, loose open cardigan, and dark jeans. The camisole dipped low and wasn’t any less revealing than the dress I had on earlier—just more comfortable. Ryan had ordered a full spread from the room service menu while I changed: burgers, fries, a cheese sampler platter, slices of cake, chocolate-covered strawberries, and a bottle of wine. They’d wheeled it all in for us on a cart covered in white linens and set it up on the tiny table in my room. We’d been having such a good time it felt like I was having dinner with a guy friend I had a huge crush on, or maybe someone I’d been on a few dates with but not yet kissed, not a handsome stranger I’d met only hours ago. I mean how many times did you meet someone new and have instant rapport? It just didn’t happen.

Ryan easily caught the french fry midair and raised his eyebrows. “Did you just throw a fry at me?” he asked in mock disbelief.

“You totally had it coming,” I said, not denying it in the slightest.

“You know I’m in the Special Forces, right? I have all kinds of military training,” he teased.

“Oh, so they prepare you for french-fry attacks? Food fights with 28-year-old-women?”

“Something like that,” he replied, his eyes not leaving my face.