Her Soldier's Touch

Single mother Rachel Madison doesn’t believe in love. Experience has her that the only person she can truly rely on is herself. What she wants most in the world is to give her son the life she never had growing up. In order to do that, though, she must put her faith in a man who once walked out on her.

Retired from the service, U.S. Army Sergeant First Class Colton Taylor has come home to Phoenix to bury his brother. Nobody is more surprised than he is to see Rachel waiting for him at the airport. He regrets nothing more than the morning he walked away from her, but having grown up in an abusive home, Colt puts limits on all his relationships—especially this one.

Discovering he has a son, Colt knows this is the chance he’s been waiting for. He’s determined to prove to himself he’s nothing like his father and to convince Rachel he’s the one man she can rely on. When a drug dealer crops up from his brother’s dark past, threatening their son, Colt and Rachel are forced to face their demons…and each other.

***Previously published with Crimson Romance***

Chapter One

“Welcome home, soldier.”

Standing beside the empty baggage carousel at Phoenix’s Sky Harbor International Airport, U.S. Army Sergeant First Class Colten Taylor bit back a groan. All around him barely controlled chaos spun. People running to meet their connections. The whir of the baggage carousels. The chatter of quiet conversation and the occasional ring of a cell phone.

Yet the world around him narrowed down to that voice. Soft and feminine, the voice behind him wound its way through his body and settled, warm and familiar, in the pit of his stomach. He clenched his fists as images and sensations bombarded his mind faster than he could stop them. Warm, silky skin sliding against his. The feel of her nails biting into his flesh as her body trembled beneath him. Her quiet, breathy moan.

Colt let out a pent-up breath and forced his fists to unfurl, wishing he could do the same for the knot in his gut. He’d spent the last six years trying to rid himself of the torturous memories, trying to forget her, because he knew he should. For her sake. Yet three little words from her sweet voice had those memories roaring to the surface all over again, tempting him with things he could never have.

Taking a deep breath, he drew from years of combat training and shoved everything back down where it was supposed to be. Positive he had himself under control, he forced a poker face and turned, meeting a pair of deep green eyes.

“Rachel Madison.” The last time he’d seen her, she lay in bed beside him. Naked.

“Hi, Colt.” She flashed a smile that didn’t match the nervous edge in her gaze, and for a moment, neither one said anything.

God, she had to be the best thing he’d seen in a long damn time. Soft and feminine without being brazen, her sunshine-yellow dress did nothing but showcase her willowy body and long graceful limbs. Honey blonde hair that normally fell to the middle of her back was now up in a thick ponytail, gracing him with a view of her slender neck. He ached to bury his mouth there, to taste her skin again.

To ward off the near overpowering temptation to touch her, he folded his arms. “Have to admit, you’re the last person I expected to see waiting for me.”

Yeah, that wasn’t what he wanted to say to her, but it was the safest, by far.

He must have imagined this moment a million times over the years, that he’d get off a plane to find her waiting for him. He’d always envisioned taking her in his arms and kissing the hell out of her. In that fantasy, she’d wrap her body around him as she welcomed him home. He’d tell her…too many damn things. Things he shouldn’t. Like how much he’d missed the sight of her and the soft ring of her voice.

She shifted from one foot to the other. Her smile wobbled again only to brighten seconds later as she clasped her hands in front of her. “Heard you were retiring, and I thought someone should meet you at the airport.”

Her statement and overbright grin rang all kinds of false. He’d taken the coward’s way out the night they spent together and snuck out the next morning while she slept. By all rights, Rachel ought to be pissed at him, not standing in front of him like the Welcome Wagon. “And you figured it ought to be you?”

Her happy façade cracked, and Rachel jerked her head to the right, glaring at something on the other side of the long room. “I told him this was a bad idea.”

Suspicion itched at the edges of his consciousness. So he was right. She wasn’t the Welcome Wagon. “He who?”

“Jake called me.” She heaved a sigh and turned to look at him, the stiff set of her shoulders softening. “He said he was supposed to pick you up, but something came up. He said no soldier wants to arrive home without someone to meet him and could I possibly do it. Said he’d owe me big if I could. I couldn’t say no.”

Colt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Ramirez. Figures.”

Jake Ramirez. Colt couldn’t remember a time when his best friend hadn’t lived down the street. Jake’s mother had practically adopted him and his younger brother, Paul.

Rachel was right about one thing—coming back from a stint with nobody to meet him at the airport, having to watch his buddies meet their wives and girlfriends, could be damn lonely. But he’d spent twenty years in the United States Army, had been stationed all over the world and had gotten off a plane alone at least a thousand times. He was used to it, and Jake knew it. So, the question was, why was Rachel really here?

For now, though, he’d play her game. “I called Jake a week ago and asked him to bring my truck to the airport. I’m going to assume it isn’t waiting for me in the parking lot.”

She smiled. Again. This one wobbled, too. And her fluttering hands trembled as she alternated between clasping them together and running them down her skirt. “Nope. ’Fraid you’re stuck with my Camry.”

For a moment, he could only stare and process. He’d come back to Phoenix for two reasons: to bury Paul and get out from beneath the weight of his father’s house.

And to tell Rachel about Paul. Clearly, Jake had taken it upon himself to create the moment, but Colt had wanted time. A few hours to figure out how to tell her and to prepare himself for the reaction that would surely follow.

He hadn’t had time yet to fully comprehend his brother’s death. It wouldn’t be real until he saw the body at the funeral home, which was where he was headed as soon as he could pick up his truck. He wanted to see Paul one last time, and he needed to make sure everything was set for the funeral. He hadn’t quite figured out how to deal with it all. The last of his blood was gone. Every single member of his family had been sent to an early, tragic grave. He was well and truly alone.

Somehow, he had to open Pandora’s Box tonight and deal with the ramifications. Once again Paul had left him with a mess to clean up. He’d have to do it all while trying to keep up strict boundaries with her. The one woman who’d somehow managed to get under his skin.

Yet, looking at her, at those gorgeous green eyes, all he could see was the morning he left her, and the deep well of regret that had built up over the years returned full force.

“Go ahead. Let me have it. I know you’re dying to.” Colt braced himself for the tongue-lashing he damn well deserved and turned to look out the windows lining the far wall. As usual for May in Phoenix, the sky was clear and bright. “Because I know that excuse you fed me isn’t the reason you’re here. So spill it. Say what you came here to say.”

Rachel was fearless. When she was hot about something, she let you know. She’d never been afraid to stand up to the likes of him. The least he could do was allow her to get it out of her system. He owed it to her.

“I expected more from you.”

He jerked his gaze to hers. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that. Despite the fierceness of her expression, pained accusation filled her eyes. The emotion cut him to the core as the confirmation he’d been waiting for hit him. He had hurt her, leaving her the way he had that morning.

All his good intentions blew up in his face. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. They’d spent one night together. A moment of passion between two lonely souls. No more, no less. He shouldn’t have slept with her in the first place.

She’d been a friend once, though, and he was an asshole for treating her the way he had.

“Thought I was saving us a lot of awkwardness I knew neither one of us wanted to face.” Yeah, that wasn’t what he wanted to tell her, either. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

Not that it mattered. He’d be gone soon anyway and out of her hair. If he was lucky, he’d be on his way to California, ready to look for a job in a mechanic’s shop, in less than a month. His time in the army was done, and he looked forward to the next phase of his life.

He looked forward to never having to come back to Phoenix again. Despite having grown up here, his life wasn’t in this city. Never would be. The last thing he wanted was to sit and wallow in pain, and that’s all that was left for him here. It was time to leave the past where it belonged. Hell, maybe he’d buy an RV and live on the damn beach.

When Rachel didn’t give him the tongue lashing he expected, he turned to stare down the length of the long room, feigning indifference. The sooner she said what she’d clearly come to say, the sooner she could go. He’d have to face her sooner or later, but he couldn’t do it now. “You sure there’s nothing else you’d like to say to me? I thought for sure ‘go to hell’ would be in there somewhere.”

***

Colt hadn’t changed a bit. She still had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and his identification tags still hung in their spot around his neck. As per his usual style while on leave, he wore a plain, stark-white T-shirt that clung to his upper torso like a second skin, and well-worn jeans that showcased long, muscular legs. His black hair was still cropped closed ala a military buzz cut.

Years of experience told her his steel gray eyes revealed only what Colt wanted you to know. Right then, he’d put up a wall and the stiff set of his shoulders told her he had no intentions of letting her over it.

What she’d expected, coming here, she didn’t know, but staring at the hardened expression on his face, all the mixed emotions she swore she’d gotten over years ago rushed to the surface. Anger bubbled up first, like hot lava waiting to spew forth from the mouth of the volcano. She held tight to it. Anger was safest by far.

“All right. You want to know? I’m pissed at you. I wasn’t even worth a note on the damn counter.” Like everyone else in her life, he’d simply walked away and never looked back. “Maybe it was stupid and naïve, but we’ve been friends for more than twenty years. I expected a little more respect from you, of all people, than sneaking out while I slept.”

Waking up alone that morning six years ago hurt. More than she wanted. She hadn’t expected cards and flowers, but they’d connected that night, and she’d hoped, somehow, they’d part as the friends she’d thought they were.

Colt turned his head and cocked a brow. “Is that it?”

The same stony wall as always. The impassive expression on his face made her want to scream just to see him react to something, but Rachel held her tongue. No man was worth her anger, or her tears. She’d wasted too many of both on him that morning six years ago. No, she’d come here for a reason and it had nothing to do with the night they’d spent together.

“Look, I didn’t come here to play the blame game, Colt. It was six years ago. I’m over it.” She blew out a pent-up breath, releasing her anger along with it. “I came because we need to talk.”

Colt needed to know he had a son. She’d kept the truth from him for…reasons that no longer made any sense. Because he’d walked out on her without looking back and hadn’t contacted her once. And she’d been hurt. But she’d been wrong to keep it from him. He deserved to know, and Greg deserved to know his father.

Eyes too much like her son’s settled on her. Polished steel and so damned intense. For the next several heartbeats, he studied her. Then he pivoted toward her and dropped his arms. “You have something to tell me.”

“Yes, but not here.” Telling a man he had a five-year-old son shouldn’t be done where they had an audience.

The red light on the ceiling began to blink, announcing the luggage arrival, and Colt nodded, shifting his gaze to the carousel as it whirred to life beside them. People began to gather around. Colt shook his head slowly. “I’m going to have to remember to kill Jake. I have something I need to tell you, too, but I agree. I don’t want to do it in public.”

Her heart skidded to a halt. Did he know about Greg? When she’d agreed to pick Colt up from the airport, Jake had promised to give her time to tell Colt the truth. Had Jake gone back on his promise?

When Colt didn’t say anything else, her heart resumed its beat. He was giving her the cold shoulder, no doubt his way of separating himself from their encounter six years ago, but otherwise, he wasn’t doing anything she might have expected when he found out about Greg. He wasn’t yelling or in her face. So, she flashed a hopeful smile.

“Come over for dinner?” Yeah, okay, so the thought of being alone with him made her knees shake. It had all her girly bits taking notice, too. Colt Taylor still looked damn delicious.

One eye flicked in her direction. “That’s fine. I’d like to go home and drop off my things. Then I have something I need to see to first.”

*

An hour later, after waiting for Colt’s baggage and making their way from the airport through the busy afternoon traffic, they finally arrived at his father’s house. The place sat in one of the older sections of the city, a neighborhood full of houses from the fifties. The air was hot and dry, the sun high in the sky. Just her luck her air conditioner was broken. They drove with the windows down, the roar of the wind barely cooling her heated skin. The entire drive was all but silent. The car filled with an awkward tension that twisted her already nervous stomach into a tangled mess.

When she finally pulled into the driveway in front of the worn, little house and turned off the car, several more moments passed in silence. Her stomach lurched, threatening to bring her meager lunch back up, and her palms grew damp. Say something! But the words she needed stuck in her throat. Somehow, “You have a son, and I haven’t told you because I was pissed at you,” just didn’t roll off the tongue.

Finally, Colt turned to her. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, only to shut it again. Instead, he flashed an awkward smile. “Thanks for the ride.”

She returned the same awkward but polite smile. “You’re welcome.”

He gave a curt nod then exited the car, moving to the rear. She pulled the lever to pop the trunk. He hefted two army green canvas bags out of the space, smiled again in the rearview mirror, and crossed the dry dirt that had once been a lawn. Halfway up the cement walkway that led to the small porch, he stopped.

The two-story house had seen better days. The dark blue paint had faded over the years, patches of it peeling from the weathered boards. One gutter had taken a nose dive, half lying on the ground, the other still attached to the roof. The roof itself was missing tiles.

Colt set his bags on the ground and stood straight and tall, arms hanging limp at his sides, staring at the house. She couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders rounded as if the weight of the residence pressed down on him.

Rachel closed her eyes, fighting the emotion rising to the surface. Just stay in the car. Put it in reverse and go home. He walked out, remember? Just like dear ol’ dad. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Right?

Opening her eyes, her heart twisted nonetheless. She’d come home from school with Paul enough times over the years to know the violence that had happened in this house. She’d seen, too, the bruises left on both boys. The black eyes Colt had ended up with. It hadn’t surprised her in the least that as soon as he and Paul hit eighteen, they’d moved out. Colt had left the city altogether and hadn’t come home much.

She knew what it must represent for him to have to come back here now, knew firsthand the overbearing weight of standing in front of the one place you’d give anything not to have to return to.

Damn her soft heart! With a soft curse, Rachel climbed from the car. She stopped beside him on the cracked sidewalk and reached out to offer…she didn’t know what. Instead, she dropped the hand to her side. They would have to be friends, for the sake of their son, but it was better if she kept as much distance between them as possible.

Still, the need to offer something rose strong in her chest.

“You okay?” She stared at his profile. A telltale muscle ticked in his jaw, the only visible sign Colt Taylor wasn’t as aloof as he seemed.

He turned his head, his expression hard, emotion hidden behind that impenetrable façade. The look so contradicted the man he’d been six years ago. He’d whispered sweet, hot nothings in her ear, while holding her so tight they’d all but meshed. There wasn’t an inch of her his mouth hadn’t skimmed at some point, and she knew every spot on his body that made him let out a deep groan. They’d laughed and talked that night until sometime before dawn.

Now, his impassive expression made him little more than a stranger and left her just as cold.

“I’m fine. Thanks, though.” He turned back to the house. “I forgot to ask. What time should I come over?”

Taking refuge in the anger that rose up from her belly, Rachel let it wrap around her like a shield. She was meeting Colt for their son’s sake, nothing more, nothing less. She needed to remember that.

“Six is fine. I’ll see you tonight.” Rachel headed back to her car, climbed behind the wheel, and closed the door.

Colt turned back around. He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, retrieved his bags off the sidewalk, and started toward the house. After opening the front door, he stood for a moment staring inside before finally disappearing into the darkness beyond.

When the door finally closed behind him, Rachel dropped her head against the headrest. God, she hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to see him again. She wanted desperately to forget the night they’d spent together, but every time she looked at Greg, Colt’s face stared back at her. She’d thrown herself at him. That day, she’d buried her mother and went to a local bar to drown her sorrows in a bottle of tequila. Colt had rescued her from herself and taken her home, chivalrous and kind as always. She’d pulled him into bed with her.

After all this time, it was beyond silly that he still had the ability to melt her knees. Like a schoolgirl with a crush. Now she had to invite him back into her life, into her son’s life. She had no idea if this was even a good idea, but Greg had started asking about his father. The hurt in his eyes every time he asked had a hard knot of regret tightening in her chest. She’d kept her son from getting to know his father for what? Because Colt had treated her like the one-night stand she’d been? The very thought unraveled a ball of yarn she didn’t want to face.

Rachel stiffened her spine and shoved her car in gear. The night she’d spent with Colt had just been sex. A drunken one-night stand that resulted in the best thing to ever happen to her. Colt was just her son’s father. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Reviews

"An emotional story that will keep you engrossed from beginning to end."
--Still Moment's Magazine

“Sweet-n-sexy.”
– Kerry, I am a Book Addict…and proud of it!

“Will quickly grab and squeeze your heartstrings until the end. In this story, JM has presented problems faced by those in today’s society with a respect that will touch your heart.”
--Morgan’s Musings

“Emotional and heartbreaking…will pull you in and never let go.”
–The Reading Cafe

“Touching and beautiful.”
–Books, Movies, Fandoms

"Fans of authors such as Susan Mallery, Robyn Carr, & the like will enjoy Her Soldier’s Touch.”
–Will Read for Feels

"Stewart delves into some uncomfortable issues in this second chance romance. She’s not afraid to tackle some of the challenges of our time—single parenting, drug addiction, spousal abuse and child abuse. A sign of a successful story is one that evokes emotion in the reader, and Stewart managed to pull me through a whole range of feelings from frustrated to frightened to satisfied."
- The Book Breeze

"This author has done an incredible job with these two characters."
--The Romance Studio

“Contemporary romance fans, and those who are looking for a story of lovers with broken pasts and love conquering all will enjoy this one!.”
— InD’tale Magazine