Page 11 of Love at First Write

She’s stunning. Long, coppery curls, that flow well past her shoulders. She’s thick and curvy, and all I want to do is lose myself in her softness. Press my face against the swell of her belly; breathe in the sweetness of her skin.

The whole time I watched her, all I could think was, “Kelsie Blankenship is mine.”

All fucking mine.

I have not spoken to her yet.

You can take me out of the SEAL’s, or rather I took myself out, but the need to observe before action is ingrained now. But it looks like I might need to make a move sooner than I wanted. I know, what am I waiting for?

Well, frankly, this current situation is going to be so perfect, it’s as if it was preordained for us. She is heading out of town to her family’s beach house…it really is amazing what you can hear just listening to people talk. I’ve got my entire life packed in a ruck sack in this truck. I’m ready to follow my girl wherever she goes.

My phone pings on the dash of my truck and I grab it.

GRANT: Have you talked to her yet?

ME: No. But I think we’re about to have a cozy beach getaway.

GRANT: How you swinging that?

ME: She’s going there and I’m following.

GRANT: So now you’re just her creepy stalker?

ME: Of course not. Just doing some recon work to make sure I’ve got prime conditions.

ME: Being alone with her at the beach is the perfect scenario. She’ll have to hear me out. See how good we can be together.

GRANT: Or have you arrested.

ME: Nah. I’m adorable.

GRANT: You’re a crazy motherfucker is what you are.

ME: How’s married life?

GRANT: Not even gonna pretend it’s not amazing.

ME: I’m glad, brother. Really happy for you.

ME: But give my regards to Jane.

GRANT: Fuck you.

GRANT: Stop stalking your girl and just talk to her.

ME: I’ve got this.

GRANT: That’s what I’m worried about.

GRANT: Call me if you need bail money.

Half an hour later and Kelsie has her car packed and is headed out of town. I’ve already mapped it out ahead of time. I don’t have the actual address, but I know the name of the beach town where her family owns the property.

It’ll be several hours of driving and all I can think is that it would be so much better if we were sitting side-by-side in the same vehicle. She would smile over at me, put her hand on my thigh.

Being close to her the past couple of days has been excruciating. Not being able to touch her or make her smile. It’s killing me. I know she’s my person. My other half, better half, whatever you want to call it. She’s it for me.

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