Ryan had emailed her back, telling her the name at the very top of the list was perfect. She’d also attached a photo of herself and he couldn’t stop himself from telling her that she was perfect too. And their baby.
Monty had been right. Having it yelled right in his face forced Ryan to finally admit it to himself. He was scared. He’d panicked—his entire chest tight with anxiety at the thought of her choosing him over everything else. How could he live up to that and be worth the sacrifice? It was a risk he’d been too scared to take. But now?
Ryan ran trembling fingers over the photos and swallowed hard before tucking them carefully into his shirt pocket and doing up the button.
Now?
She was his, and just like Monty said, it was time to man the fuck up and take the damn risk. Picking up his weapons, Ryan wrapped up all the beautiful memories in his mind and tucked them deep inside. He had to focus. There was an entire unit of soldiers out there in trouble, and right now they deserved everything he had to give.
Ryan stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the thick warm air in the fading dusk. He joined his team as they made their way to the waiting Black Hawks. The rotors were already thumping, the engines warming.
Monty slapped him on the back. “Ready?”
“Never been more ready.” He looked sideways at Monty and grinned. Soon—just a few weeks from now—Ryan would be home. He was going to take Fin out under those stars, right in the very spot he told her how much he loved her and ask her to be his forever. “I’m going to ask Fin to marry me.”
Monty returned his grin. “‘Bout fucking time, Kendall.”
His heart lifted as they kicked up their pace into a jog, leaping into the chopper with excitement. Soon they would be in the thick of battle, and their entire team was pumped to get in on the action.
Ryan gripped Nathan’s arm as he leaped up behind him, and when they were all on board, Monty twirled his finger, his eyes hard and serious. “Let’s move out!” he yelled.
“Don’t give up on me, Fin,” Ryan whispered softly in the fading light as the chopper lifted.
Same time
Fremantle, Western Australia
“Ugh,” Fin muttered as she set the glass of fresh vegetable juice back on the breakfast table. She was trialling the recipe her mum had given her and made a mental note to tell her it was disgusting.
Sitting beside her, Rachael began gagging.
Fin’s eyes widened with horror as her own stomach began heaving in sympathy. “Don’t you dare throw that up!”
“You should...” gag “…give that recipe to Ryan. He could…” gag “…use that as some form of torture device on the enemy.”
Grabbing both glasses off the table, Fin stood and walked to the sink, dumping the contents down the drain with relish. “You tell that to Mum,” she said, rinsing them out under the tap. “She keeps foisting all this over-the-top health crap on me, and it’s driving me daft. At least I can be honest and say I tried it, but that’s enough. From now on, I’m going to enjoy these last four weeks of pregnancy by eating whatever the hell I want.” Turning around, Fin tried folding her arms, but her belly was sitting so high, her arms rested somewhere up near her face.
A knock came at the door and Rachael clapped excitedly. “That’ll be the cavalry.”
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.