Falling For You (Falling For Him #1)

Falling For You

A Male/Male Military Romance

-Volume One-

KELLY WASHINGTON

Copyright © 2013 by KA Shire

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the email address below.

Kelly Washington Books

P.O. Box 650092

Sterling, Virginia 20165-0092

http://smallfiction.com

kelly@smallfiction.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Cover Design ©2014 KA Shire

Cover Photograph © Georgijevic

Edited by Susan Helene Gottfried www.westofmars.com

Synopsis

MY NAME IS Justin Hauten. My friends call me Hotten. So do my enemies. I’m a staff sergeant in the U.S. Army and for the last few months I’ve been deployed to Afghanistan on a sensitive reconnaissance mission, along with my best friend—and troublemaker—Sean Nebraska Walker.

I’m not the smartest guy in the room and I’m certainly not a badass, but when the company commander puts a bullet in my shoulder and orders me to hand over the evidence, my life goes from boring to stupid in about five seconds. And guess what? Nebraska’s having the time of his life.

While all of this is troubling, something else has happened that’s throwing my life out of balance: I’ve been receiving love letters from an admirer. A male admirer. This is all new for me. My heart flips when I read his letters because, maybe, it is possible that I feel the same way.

Warning: this story contains hot men, jail cells, guns, hot men kissing, a funny sidekick who enjoys embellishing the truth, men in uniform, government conspiracies, hot men kissing, creeps wearing sunglasses at night, secret camera images, and hot men kissing.

For my readers… thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Chapter One

THE HANDWRITTEN LETTER was folded up in his Kevlar pocket. The day was hot, windy, and Staff Sergeant Justin Hauten—a machine gunner, career Army sergeant, built like the Terminator but still a small-town-Texas boy—had a few minutes to kill.

Justin never put things in his pockets, least of all letters, and he figured it was some sort of mistake, or a joke one of the other Sergeants was trying to pull. For the record, Justin had never once fallen for one of their stupid jokes.

He jumped back into the idling Humvee (the driver, Specialist Walker, was taking a piss), pushed his M4 and a camera to his side, and opened up the carefully folded piece of paper. It quickly became apparent what it was.

Justin, it began, you make me weak. Every time you walk near me, my heart beats double-time. Can you hear it or feel its pulse? My body radiates heat for you and my body, voice, refuse to obey when we talk. Everything about you turns me on. From your muscular body, your green eyes, to how strong and long your fingers are. Are your lips as soft as I imagine them to be? Will your heat match my own should we ever touch? I long to reach out to you, to skim my fingers along your arm, or back, or leg. And more. I want so much more that my hand is shaking as I write this. I’ve watched you from afar, desired you at a distance, for all these longs months, and I’m taking a chance now. I have to let you know how I feel. I will burst otherwise. I’ll stay hidden for now. But soon, very soon, I will confide in you. I hope you will not be disappointed. All Yours, T.

He read the letter three times and with each reading, his opinion changed. First, he was pretty sure it was a joke. All of his buddies, even his company commander, called him Hotten, based on his physique and his last name. But this letter, the deep confiding, with its secret longing written in each word, told him that it probably wasn’t a joke and that one of his buddies had the hots for him.

He looked at the top of the letter. It was dated four months ago.

Justin refolded the letter and placed it back in his pocket. He wasn’t sure how to feel.

He looked out over the Afghanistan landscape, pondering. The red dirt, the mud-hut homes, the deep craters left by some roadside bombs, the Afghani peoples’ mixed expressions as they passed by, the eager faces of the children wanting chocolate bars or to practice their broken English. And those were the good days. He didn’t like thinking about the bad days around here.

You ready, Hotten? Specialist Sean Nebraska Walker adjusted his sunglasses and inspected himself in the mirror as he got back into the driver’s seat. Nebraska was as tall as a lumberjack and built like one, too. Throw on a plaid shirt and he’d be a dead ringer for the old Brawny Paper Towels man, minus the creepy mustache.

Yeah, Nebraska, let’s go.

As the desolate, yet hopeful, scenery went past, Justin wondered who T was and if there were other letters. Did T place the letter in his pocket four months ago, or did he write the letter then but just now put it in his pocket? Nebraska spoke into the two-way radio, informing the command that they were done for the day and en route. A static reply came back.

You heard that, Hotten?

What?

The camera. Captain Phillips wants it first thing.

Right, yeah, I heard. Justin shook his head.

You alright, man? You look, I dunno, confused about something. You’re not getting cold feet, are you?

His mind went straight to the letter, but Nebraska wouldn’t be talking about that, would he?

What?

Seriously, man, the driver whistled. Something’s stuck in your head, but that’s your business. I’m talking about the camera. The mission.

Oh, right. No cold feet. I’m still game. Justin patted the camera sitting in his lap. As long as it doesn’t get us killed.

Chapter Two

THE SHOWERS WERE deserted, thank God. Justin stripped down quickly and let the hot water cascade over him. He checked his wrist for the hundredth time, but the white outline of a missing watch made him laugh. He figured it was about midnight.

He had spent the entire day with Nebraska, as usual, taking pictures of the landscape and other landmarks for the commander. So far, the commander was happy with their progress, but he hadn’t gotten exactly what was needed just yet. Their mission had begun a month ago. One month left, he thought to himself as he soaped up.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and the muscles screamed at him. Justin turned the water knob all the way to the left and let the scalding water hit the aching muscles and then cascade down