Page 7 of Quarantined With the Soldier

Chapter Four

Ava’s guest room was just as perfect as he thought it would be. She was neat, tidy, and organized. Everything in her home was in its proper place. In many ways, it reminded him of living in the dorms on base. With regular inspections and every dorm room featuring the same furniture, layout, and décor, his life had been very regulated in every way.

Ava might say that her space was wild and crazy, but Dylan knew better. He could tell that this was carefully planned and carefully organized chaos. She was an artist, after all: a baker. He knew she did more than that, though.

Even when they were young, he always saw her reading books on crafting, volunteering at bakeries and local craft shows, and helping the senior citizens at their church improve their own crafts and quilts. She had a heart of gold, and he loved that about her. He hated that he’d missed so much of her life, but he respected the fact that she’d somehow learned to find a new normal that worked for her.

She’d managed to figure out something that made her happy.

“It’s not much,” she said from the doorway, gesturing toward the guest room.

“It’s perfect.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You’re probably used to better accommodations.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “Sweetie, I’ve been eating chow hall food and living in the dorms. Trust me, this is heaven.”

“Chow hall?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Sorry, military speak,” he shook his head. He’d have to start getting used to the fact that not everyone knew the lingo he was accustomed to using. “It’s like a dining hall.”

“Sounds nice,” she said. “Convenient.”

“It was convenient, but it wasn’t delicious.”

“I can take care of that,” she said carefully. “Don’t you worry, okay? Listen…”

She shook her head, and he hated how stressed and anxious she sounded. He knew why she was feeling tense. Neither one of them had asked for this situation, and it was a pretty horrible thing all around. They were trapped together, and even though they’d been friends forever, there was this new sort of sexual tension between them.

He wasn’t sure what to do about it.

He knew what he wanted to do. That part was easy. He wanted to grab her and toss her down on the guest room bed. He wanted to eat her pussy until she moaned and groaned and begged for more. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast and slow and wonderful. He wanted to make her come with his tongue and his lips and his hands and his cock.

Oh, Dylan wanted so very many things that he knew he’d never get to have.

“Dylan, thanks for ordering the groceries.”

He was surprised that was what she said.

“It was nothing.”

“No, it wasn’t nothing. I’ve been on my own for a long time,” she said. “And one thing I’ve learned is that you can’t count on people.”

That was what she’d learned? That was sad.

“You can count on me, cupcake.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And I appreciate that.”

She stepped forward into the room, and she reached for him. She pulled him close, giving him a tight, careful hug, and then she pulled back and just looked at him. Dylan couldn’t remember the last time a woman looked at him the way Ava did.

It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

And then she kissed him.

It was soft and sweet and tender, and almost hesitant. He kissed her back, surprised, but when he pulled back and looked at her, she grinned.

“That was great,” she said.

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