He’s at the closed bathroom door. My brow drops in concern. I sit up and grab my sleeve and leg. I slip them on quickly and head toward the door. I can hear gagging sounds from the other side. I speed up and bang on the door, maybe a little too forceful, but damn, I'm concerned.
“Hope? You okay?” I ask as I lay my hand against the door and my other one on the locked handle. What the hell? She never locks the door.
Through the gagging sounds, I hear, “Go away. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
It takes me a minute or five to put two and two together. It dawns on me like a sledgehammer taking down a brick wall.
“I’ll be back,” I say to the door and take off before she responds. I grin all the way to the drug store and back. I hold my package carefully as I rush through the house, almost tripping on the dog.
I see the door is still closed but the sounds have stopped. I knock on the door, as it cracks open, I thrust the bag at her before she can say anything. “Here.”
She gives me a startled look before taking it and closing the door.
“Oh, shit!” comes through the door. I can picture her smacking herself against her forehead. Yup, nailed it and I mean I really nailed it.
I wait very patiently, pacing back and forth. Rubbing my hands together like I’ve done something devious. Still grinning like an idiot.
A few moments later, a tear-stained Hope walks robotically out of the bathroom holding two plastic sticks in her hands.
“I . . . I . . . I just . . . I mean . . .” she stumbles as she thrusts them at me. One has a pink plus sign and the other says the word ‘pregnant’. I grin bigger, silently wishing I could totally do a fist pump in the air, but I need to see how Hope feels about this.
“Are you okay with this?” I ask. My question shocks her out of her stupor and she glances up at me with shock.
“Of course, I want babies. I just didn’t know how you would react. I love you but you can be a little elusive about your feelings and we honestly never really talk about a family,” she explains. Damn, that’s on me.
“Yes, I want babies, but only with you. I want a big family, as big as you want,” I reassure her as I pull her into my arms.
“Sam, thank you,” she says.
“For what?” I ask perplexed, I should be thanking her.
“For everything,” she says as she lays her head against my chest.
I lift her face, and declare, “I love you, Mrs. Paxton.”
She smiles. “I love you too, Mr. Paxton.”
Claire Ashlynn
claireashlynnauthor.com
https://www.facebook.com/ClaireAshlynnAuthorPage
www.instagram.com/claireashlynnauthor
Puppy Kisses
Jaime Russell
To my favorite military man, my daddy Nathan Burdick Jr. Thank you for being the man who I’ve become to love and respect. I am thankful that you’re my dad. You have given me so much and taught me to be proud of everything that I do. I know that we’ve had our ups and downs but your support means more to me than you will ever know. I love you.
Chapter One
Mia Edwards
The metallic taste in my mouth is a strong indicator that something went wrong on our mission. Struggling to open my eyes to see where I am or to find where my team is brings on a panic that I’ve never felt before. I’ve never felt like this as hopelessness washes over me. I stretch out my arm to feel around for anything to give me clues as to where I am.
I wiggle around and the rocks pierce my back. I wiggle my fingers that are at my side to feel sand mixed with this wet sticky substance. I hear someone yelling my name, but I can’t make out the voice. Everything starts to go cold, taking me back to when I was a young girl during the winter months in Pennsylvania.
As I succumb to the darkness it all fades out, the noise, the taste, and the hardness of the ground are gone like the credits at the end of the movie. The last thought that I have is of my family. If I’m dying, then I pray they find comfort knowing that I didn’t suffer and that I loved them with everything I had to give. I start to fall backwards into the darkness like when you’re dreaming and fall.
My body shakes as I sit up from the couch that I’m sleeping on in my parents’ study. I’m drenched in sweat, turning on the lamp that is on my nightstand above my head. I breathe a sigh of relief that I’m safe. The door swings open as I scream out in fear that someone’s coming for me. My dad is filling the doorway with his body.
“Mia, you okay?” he huffs. He must have run down the stairs.
“Sorry, Daddy. Another nightmare.” I seem so ashamed of myself for still having the nightmares.
“Want to talk about it?” His tone goes from worry to concern in seconds.
“Not right now. Do you think you could get me a glass of apple juice please?” He nods, walking away. It’s always the same nightmare over the last year. It causes more questions than answers.
Grabbing my journal, I start to write down everything that I remember. I go to see my therapist in a few days. I hope she can walk me through my nightmares. I swallow hard as I repeat, “I’m no longer in the war zone. I’m safe. Nothing from the past can harm me,” a few times over and over again.
My dad hands
