Page 118 of Rescuing Mary

Colt had a cousin who suffered from the same condition, and he knew he had an uphill mountain to climb. He knew it was unlikely that she’d have gotten up the nerve to leave him a note or her number. Oh, Colt knew he could ask Truck for his sister’s phone number, but for now, he wanted to keep things just between them. He had a feeling Macie needed some time to process the night before and come to terms with what had happened. He’d give her some space…for now.

But he would see Macie again. He’d felt something between them, and had a feeling she’d felt it too. Simply holding her in his arms did more for him last night than actually making love to a woman had in the past. He’d loved how she fit against him. How soft her skin and hair was. He’d loved listening to the sound of her voice. And he’d especially loved knowing it was his touch that soothed her and the cadence of his voice that had finally lulled her to sleep.

Macie Laughlin had touched something deep inside him. And he wanted to explore whatever it was.

He walked into his closet and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Then he moved to his door to head downstairs and fix himself some breakfast. Feeling strangely charged, even though Macie had snuck out on him, he opened his bedroom door and pulled it closed with a little too much force. It slammed shut behind him, and Colt winced. Shrugging, and glad he wasn’t living in an apartment anymore and his carelessness wouldn’t wake anyone else up, he headed down the stairs toward his kitchen.

Colt never realized that when the door had slammed shut, a slight breeze moved through the room, picking up the note Macie had so nervously written and blowing it to the back side of the table and off the edge. It slid down to the floor and ended up under the bed with the multitude of dust bunnies that lived there, destined to remain unfound and unread for weeks.

Harley and Coach, two years after the weddings.

* * *

“You still want to do this?” Coach asked Harley.

“Absolutely,” she said confidently.

“Then on the count of three,” he said. “One. Two. Three!”

On the last number, he pushed them both out of the plane, and Coach smiled as he heard Harley scream in glee as they plummeted toward the ground.

She’d come a long way since that first jump they’d taken together. Him being hit in the face by a bird was truly a freak accident, and once he’d convinced her to try again, she’d decided she loved it.

Coach monitored their altitude throughout the jump and when it was time, he tapped Harley on the shoulder. She reached back and he helped guide her hand to the parachute cord. They pulled it together, and he laughed when she grunted after being jerked upward by the parachute opening.

They glided toward the ground with Coach steering. They landed without any issues right in the middle of the landing zone.

The second they were on the ground, Coach unclipped her harness from his and turned them until Harley was under him. Her brown eyes sparkled with life as she smiled up at him. He loved her even more than he had the day they got married. She hadn’t changed in the least since that day. She was still slender, still had the same shoulder-length light brown hair, but her confidence had grown tenfold.

“Like that?” Coach asked.

“Of course,” Harley said. “It was just the thing I needed to get my day started.”

“That and the orgasm, you mean,” Coach corrected with a grin.

“Oh, yeah. Maybe that too.”

Coach tickled her as best he could through the jumpsuit she was wearing. When he took pity on her and let her go, he loved how she clung to him.

“I love you,” Harley said.

“Love you back. Are you ready for today?”

“Yes. There’s no way they’ll turn me down,” Harley said with confidence. “I’ve been carrying the This is War line for years. If they want me to keep working there, they’ll have to pay for the privilege.”

Coach loved how passionate Harley was for her job. She loved creating the video games. But when one of her games had been altered significantly to make it unnecessarily violent, after she’d submitted the final code, she’d lost it.

They didn’t have children, a mutual decision, but Harley was more than aware of how kids were being desensitized to violence through social media and games like the ones she designed.

She’d found the nerve to tell the president of the company that if he didn’t rewrite her contract to say that she was the only person who could approve changes to the final product, and give her a hefty raise in the meantime, she’d quit and go work for his biggest competitor.

Coach knew she’d have no problem doing just that too. It wasn’t a bluff. Harley was good. More than good. She’d continued to learn a lot throughout her career and she was the best programmer the company had. Bar none. She’d also gotten a lot more confident over the years. Coach attributed that to being happy, and to having kick-ass female friends who always had each other’s backs and celebrated each other’s successes rather than tearing each other down.

Today was her meeting with her boss, and the president of the company. They’d either give her what she wanted or she was out of there.

“Are you up for some breakfast before you have to call in?” Coach asked.

Harley worked remotely, which allowed her to stay home with their cat and two dogs all day. Many times he’d come home to her sitting on the couch with a dog on either side of her, the cat draped over her shoulders, and her fingers moving with the speed of light over her keyboard.