Fin shook her head, laughing. “You’re more excited about doing up this nursery than I am!”
Later that morning, with her dad and Rachael hard at work painting the nursery, Fin sat on the couch, banned from being near any paint fumes. Deciding to check her emails, she found a reply from Ryan Kendall sitting in her inbox. The beginnings of a smile formed on her face as she clicked it open.
“Fin, love!” her dad called out. “When’s the furniture being delivered?”
“Next week some time!” she shouted back from the couch, her computer wobbling precariously on her rapidly decreasing lap space.
He walked out of the nursery, paintbrush in hand, his brow creased. “You don’t know what day?”
Exhausted, Fin waved at the pile of receipts her mum had laid out over the dining table after their mammoth shopping expedition. “We went to a few stores,” she admitted. “So I guess they’re delivering on a whole bunch of different days.”
Her eyes returned to the computer.
Fin,
I never saw this for us–creating a family together. Not because I never wanted it, but because it never seemed possible so I put it from my mind.
“Fin,” her dad said sternly as he walked over to the table and eyed the pile of receipts. “That’s not very organised of you.”
“Dad!”
“Don’t take that tone with me, miss.”
“I’m trying to work,” she lied, desperate to get back to her email.
Her dad let out a loud hmmphf and disappeared back to his painting.
I can’t believe I’m not there for any of it—that when I come home, I’ll be coming home to a son or daughter. Honestly? I can’t wait. I want to hold both of you in my arms and tell you I love you. Tell you I’m sorry—that I was scared of not being good enough.
Please forgive me.
I don’t want you to think I’m saying this because we’re having a baby. Maybe it might have taken me a bit longer to work it out in my head, but I would have eventually.
I miss you, baby. So much it hurts, but I’ll be home soon.
Please take good care of the both of you for me.
Love,
Ryan.
P.S. I’ve transferred money to your bank account. Please use it for whatever you or the baby needs.
Not good enough for her? That couldn’t be any further from the truth, and her heart felt lighter knowing he finally worked it out. He would be coming home soon and she would be where she wanted to be all along, waiting for him.
“Please come home safe, Ryan,” she whispered softly, trailing her fingers down the photo of the two of them on her computer.
How long ago it seemed now, the both of them smiling at her farewell party. That had been the last night she’d ever spent with Jake, and it couldn’t have been more bittersweet, or more perfect.
Out of curiosity, Fin signed into her internet banking and checked her bank account.
“Holy shit!” she shouted.
The laptop gave up its fight for space and crashed loudly to the floor. Rachael and her dad both came running out, their eyes wild, brushes held aloft as paint flew everywhere.
“Is it the baby?” Rachael burst out, almost breathless with panic.
“Fin?” her dad questioned.
Fin levered herself from the couch and made a grab for the laptop that laid overturned on the ground. “No.” She waved her hand at the computer. “It just fell off my lap, that’s all.”
Rachael sagged visibly with relief. “You’re supposed to be resting. Stop freaking us out! You keep faking your little labour pains to get your own way and it’s sending us all into gibbering lunatics.”
“I didn’t do it deliberately,” Fin pointed out as she huffed about on the floor, trying to bend over with no success. “A little help?” she panted.
Her dad grabbed her arm, none too gently, and assisted her back to the couch. His efforts left a big smear of creamy yellow paint up her forearm. “Awesome. Thanks, Dad,” she muttered as Rachael picked up her computer and set it down on the coffee table.
“Holy shit!” Rachael shouted as her eyes caught Fin’s bank account information spread out on the screen for all to see.
“Would you two ladies stop swearing at the top of your lungs? You’ll send an old man deaf,” her dad muttered.
Ignoring him, Fin waved her hand at the screen. “It’s from Ryan to ... you know ... help out with stuff for the baby.”
Rachael’s eyes took on a manic gleam as her dad squinted at the screen. “Does he think cots automatically come gold-plated and prams need mag wheels?” Those eyes narrowed as they focused on Fin. “Is this guilt money?”
“No! He emailed me.” Fin had no intention of sharing that email with anyone. It was private. It had all the love she felt for him swelling so big and so bright, she couldn’t breathe from it. “It’s going to be okay.” She grinned. “We’re going to be okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Half an hour later
Eastern Afghanistan
The Black Hawk thundered heavily through the sky, three more following on their tail as Monty gave an update.
“We’re heading right into a hotbed of enemy fire,” he shouted. He looked Nathan in the eye and reinforced words they’d heard during their briefing. “You’re up first. Run low and hard for position. Signal when you’re ready for cover fire.”
Ryan ran his mind over the details. A patrol had been scoping out a village of potential enemy fighters, keeping watch and tracking details of possible militant activity. They’d taken images, analysed them, noted details and forwarded the information back to base, but during the operation, a soldier had been forced to initiate contact with the enemy and gunfire had escalated into a full scale fight.
Thanks to the intelligence gathered, the briefing Ryan attended encompassed enough detail on the village for them to be able to plan their approach.
“We enter in the western end of the village,” Monty continued, his voice forceful and commanding, “and make our way towards the northern end. No splitting up unless you’re caught under heavy fire and it’s absolutely necessary. We enter as a team, we leave as a team.”
Short nods were given in response as tension ran thick.
Ryan was calm on the outside—eyes focused, hands steady, body locked tight—but inside his blood was simmering, ready to bubble through his veins the minute they reached their destination.
“Kendall.”
Redirecting his gaze from the horizon ahead, Ryan looked to his teammates—Monty, Galloway, Tex, Nathan and Simon, the man temporarily replacing Kyle—but no one was looking his way. His brows drew together. “Did you say something, Monty?”
Monty shook his head.
Shrugging it off, Ryan glanced around the inside of the chopper once more before looking back to the horizon. Almost there. He could just make out brief tufts of smoke ahead. His breath caught when a big explosion imploded an entire building in a thick plume of orange and grey.
“Motherfucker!” Nathan shouted. “Did you see that?”
With his back facing what lay ahead, Monty met Ryan’s eyes. Ryan tipped his chin to the skyline and Monty turned. “Fuckers have got the rocket launchers out.”
“We can’t get too close,” the pilot shouted, tilting his head as he gave Monty a quick glance. “We need you out fast!”
From his peripheral vision he saw the choppers behind them peel off in different directions—aiming for alternate insertion points to enable a full-scale attack.
“ETA five minutes,” the pilot yelled.
With his heart thundering in his chest, Ryan wished he could take Fin’s photo out of his pocket for one last glance, but there was no time.
Instead, he closed his eyes and saw her instantly. Her blonde locks in a wild tangle, her eyes sleepy, her lips curled as she woke up in bed next to him. That’s how he liked to remember her best because she would snuggle into his side, and all that warm, nak*d flesh would press up against him. Nothing felt better. Even now—his heart pounding fiercely—didn’t compare to how it felt waking up beside her in the morning. Ryan remembered telling her just that the morning after the impromptu birthday party Fin had pulled together for him.
“What?” she’d muttered sleepily, pushing hair from her face as she blinked and focused her pretty green eyes his way.
“You.”
Her finger trailed a torturously slow path down his chest, her lips curving lazily when he shuddered with pleasure. “What about me?”
“You’re my heart,” he replied softly.
Tucking his hands behind his head, Ryan focused his gaze on the ceiling of Fin’s bedroom to give his pulse a chance to slow down. “Not much compares to the rush of adrenaline when you’re in the middle of heavy fire, or when you’re screaming off inside a Hercules, or how a Black Hawk makes your stomach drop as it lurches hard in the sky. Except for you. None of it makes my heart beat the way you do.” He tilted his head to meet her eyes and the rush of love he saw in their green depths made him feel ten feet tall. “It’s like it’s beating just for you.”
“Kendall.”
Ryan’s eyes flew open and once again he looked to the Black Hawk occupants, but no one was looking his way. His brows drew together. It couldn’t have been Jake. Reading his letter had been like a final goodbye. Since then, the voices inside his head—Jake’s voice—had stopped. Why was he here? Why now?
Ryan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself. Idiot. Jake wasn’t here. Sometimes he felt like he really was losing his mind.
Shaking his head to clear it, Ryan forced everything from his mind.
“ETA one minute!” the pilot called out.
The Black Hawk doors were locked open, ready for a fast rope insertion. Nathan was up first. Ryan would follow directly after. Looking to Nathan, Ryan gave him a short nod. After a hard swallow and a swipe of his palms down the length of his thighs, Nathan returned it.
Unclipping his harness, Nathan stood up. At that exact moment, the chopper pitched wildly, and Ryan saw nothing but ground as the bird tilted hard right.
“Motherf**king sonofabitch,” the pilot yelled as Nathan stumbled and grabbed hold of the rope above to steady himself. “They’re aiming their rocket launchers right at us!” After a brief burst of chatter on the radio to base, the Black Hawk slowed until they were hovering a hundred feet above ground. “We’re not going in any further. You guys have to get out here.”
The thick, heavy rope went over the edge, unravelling rapidly until it hit the ground below. In what felt like slow motion, Ryan removed his harness and stood. The wind rushing through the open doors was thick and hot. Ryan rolled his shoulders, his dark eyes turning flat and hard as sweat travelled a line down the length of his back.
“Go, go go!” Monty roared over the loud, heavy thumping of the Black Hawk’s hovering rotors.
At Monty’s command, Nathan flew out the door and into the sky. Stepping up to the edge, Ryan peered downwards to watch him. Nathan’s legs and arms were locked around the rope as he slid down with ease. The ground below was hazy with thick, swirling dust—Nathan making his way right into the middle of it. With one big leap, he landed on terra firma and right into incoming fire.