Finding You: A small-town brother’s best friend romance (Chikalu Falls Book 1)

Finding You: Chapter 17



The fire burned down to embers as our group continued swapping stories. I was sure most of them were total bullshit, but the usual sense of unease I felt was gone.

I sat looking around at the group, waiting for the prick of tension and panic to burn through me. For my ears to hear a sound and my eyes to dart around, looking for the danger. My acute awareness of the surroundings was still there, but gone was the blade-sharp edge of stress I usually carried with me.

Thankfully, there wasn’t enough beer for anyone to get shitfaced, and they mostly seemed like a happy-drunk kind of group, if a little loud. Joanna had stayed with the group, so I’d chosen to stay up, too. Twice I’d caught her touching the bracelet I’d made for her and I thought I had seen a flash of a dimple.

God, she made me feel like I was twelve years old again. I hoped she liked it. It was rugged and simple, but it matched the bracelet I always wore. The warmth that spread in my chest at the sight of her wearing it was not just from the fire. This girl was changing things for me, and I didn’t know what I was going to do about that.

I had decided that tomorrow, as soon as this trip was over, I was going to talk to Finn. Man to man. I was going to tell him about the letters, Joanna, how I’d pursued her, broken his trust. He would finally see that I was a shitty brother.

A flare of anger rose inside of me. I hoped Finn would hit me, scream at me, beat the shit out of me. I wouldn’t fight back because I knew I deserved it. I’d always been a man with honor, but now I’d have to answer for this.

When I left for the Marines, Finn had made me promise him that I would come back and take care of him and Mom. I took that promise seriously, even then.

I had made a complete and total mess of this.

Why did this woman have such a hold on me? Why couldn’t the woman from the letters have been anyone else? She was confident and beautiful and capable. She was the last one who needed saving, and yet I was drawn to her. I looked at her and felt an overwhelming need to protect her.

But she didn’t need my protection. She didn’t want it either. Joanna had made it clear that she was a talented and proficient woman. She certainly didn’t need a fucked-up mental case mooning over her when she had Finn, the younger, mentally healthy version pining for her at home. I absently touched my pocket, feeling the edge of the letter inside.

Aggravated, I flipped a stick into the fire and watched it be consumed by the flames. I would come clean to Finn and then no longer stand in the way of whatever relationship they would develop. I didn’t need a flag on my shoulder to know it was the right thing to do, but goddamn, it burned a hole in my gut just thinking about it.

As much as I wanted to invite Joanna into my tent and worship the long lines of her body, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She had lingered slightly outside of her tent after everyone else went to bed. It was clearly an opening, but I’d made my mind up and didn’t take it.

Now, hours later, I was staring at the ceiling of my tent, mentally kicking my own ass.

I swear to god, if he marries her and they have a million babies, I’m moving to the East Coast.

The image of Finn and Joanna together made me seethe with jealousy. The snap of a twig pulled me from my murderous thoughts.

Alert, I silently tugged on my boots, grabbed my knife, and crouched at the zipped entrance to my tent. Someone was outside.

I listened carefully, breathing my way through the initial rush of panic. The hairs on my neck stood up, and my ears pricked. Slowing my heart rate was something I had learned to do, and it was useful in clearing my mind before a raid.

Silence.

Silence.

Snap.

There was definitely someone walking around the perimeter of our campsite. Where the fuck was Bud, and why wasn’t he hearing this, too? Clearly, he was a terrible guard dog.

Slowly, I unzipped the tent as quietly as I could manage. My eyes were already adjusted to the dark, and I peered into the dense woods, searching for any movement. Aside from the rustle of the pines and a quiet crackle from the fire, more silence.

Flashes of memories in Kandahar clicked through my mind, and I had to stuff them away to focus on the threat at hand. Someone was moving in a slow arc around the outside of Joanna’s tent. I steeled myself with the knowledge that no one would be allowed to hurt her.

Crouching, I exited my tent, moving silently along the outer edge. A flash of light had me turning my head and flattening my body against a tree.

Joanna.

A wave of relief washed over me as I sighed. I saw her up ahead on a tramped down path about thirty yards away from the campsite. Bud at her side, she was walking down the narrow path toward a clearing. Bud trotted alongside her, sniffing at the grasses, and he never wandered too far from her legs. All right, I’d give him points for that—he wasn’t a total dipshit.

Afraid to startle her, but unable to let her wander alone in the dark, I quietly followed behind her on the path. Once she reached the end of the trail, it opened into a wide meadow. The moonlight washed away the purples and yellows of the flowers, but a silver halo radiated around her. For a moment, I just stared at her, struck by her beauty. The moon illuminated her as she tipped her head up, eyes closed. She stood in total silence and raised her arms at her side, palms up.

My Valkyrie.

My heart hammered in my ears. I shifted, and the slight movement caught Bud’s attention. Her eyes whipped open as a low, protective growl rumbled in his chest.

I stepped out of the shadow, palms up. “Easy, boy. Just me.”

“Shit,” she exhaled, her hand clutching her throat. “You scared me.”

Bud recognized me and ran forward, rubbing his body against my leg. I reached down to scratch between his dark red ears.

“Who’s the stalker now?” she joked, her gentle laugh dissolving the tension in the air between us.

“I heard someone outside,” I admitted.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just couldn’t sleep, and all my tossing and turning in the tent was making Bud restless.”

I moved toward her, unwilling to accept the distance between us. “I haven’t slept either. Want to go for a walk?” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Joanna’s eyes lit up the darkness. Her pretty face hurt to look at so instead of kissing her like my body was screaming at me to do, I turned and motioned toward the path. We walked together, side by side, around the wildflower meadow. Joanna was quiet, and I listened to the steady whoosh of her breath as we walked.

Reaching my right hand down at the edge of the path, I plucked a long flower. Holding its stem, I ran the flower down her forearm. She looked down, and when her eyes lifted to mine, I offered her a small smile. I was out of my depth here, drowning in the big feelings I had for her.

She reached for the flower and pressed the small bud to her nose. When she smiled at me again, I nearly crumbled to my knees. As we walked the wide loop in companionable silence, my blood thrummed. My fingers tingled with the need to feel her skin. Despite the warnings of honor and brotherhood in my head, I let my hand bump gently into hers.

Being brave always came easily to me, but in this moment, it took everything inside of me. I moved my hand closer again, brushing the side of my hand against hers. Feeling her silky skin against me, I wound my pinky around two of her fingers, lingering at the touch. When she didn’t pull away, I allowed myself more.

The width of my hand was easily twice that of hers, but when her palm connected with mine, I gave her a gentle squeeze. She turned her head to look at me, eyes wide, and I held her gaze. Everything inside of me wanted to wrap her in my arms. I had finally found her.

When we’d closed the loop of the path, I walked her back toward the campsite. I wanted nothing more than to spend the next few hours wrapped in darkness with Joanna against me. At her tent, I leaned my forehead against hers.

“Lincoln,” she said quietly, “stay with me.”

A war inside me waged with the desire to give her what she needed and the duty to do what was right.

“Goodnight, Joanna,” I replied. I leaned down, brushing the stubble of my beard against her. I paused, kissed her cheek, and turned from her, slowly retreating to my tent.


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