Excerpt from Until I Met You

      J. T. Reynolds stood motionless on Jessica Reid's porch. His military training had kicked in; know your adversary before you strategize. Intent on getting to know her, he first introduced himself to her neighbors. He'd gleaned the three women on the cul-de-sac were close. Their bond extended to more than three single women living on the same street. He'd learned Jessica hadn't lived here long but she'd known both of the women for some time. Jessica and Blake had been friends since elementary school. J. T. was amazed at how much the women revealed when he talked to them.

     The exterior of her home was well maintained, but J. T. knew all too well appearances were deceiving. His family always gave the pretense of a loving family until they were behind closed doors.

A porch with white columns covered the majority of the front of her house. He glanced in the large window, studying his quarry. From where he stood, he could see her sitting in a rocking chair, holding the little tike. Mesmerized, he watched the woman hold the infant in her arms and slowly rock back and forth.

Jessica had a braid of long brown hair across the opposite breast from the baby. From where he stood, her features looked plain. No--solemn. Her face drawn and shoulders slumped. Impulsively, J. T. wanted to comfort her with an embrace. For a woman he didn't know, yet, she brought out a protective instinct in him. He tried to remember what his brother had said about the woman but drew a blank. This was personal, yet after so many years in the service, he felt as if this was another mission and pushed his emotions aside.

     For some reason he wondered what color her eyes were. J.T. shook his head. He wasn't here because of the woman. The baby was his reason for this task. The child didn't know it, but he was the closest person J.T. had to a family. He would do anything for his foster brother's son.

     Growing up, J. T. had spent years being shuffled from one foster home to another. He never felt a connection to any of the families until he moved in with Grant Markham's family. The two of them had become best friends and referred to each other as brothers.

     When Wyatt was born, Grant emailed J. T. in Afghanistan with the news. He asked him if he'd be the baby's godfather and to look out for the boy if anything should happened. At the time, J. T. joked with him about how dangerous Grant's job as a computer programmer was and he needed to watch out for paper cuts. J. T. would give anything to hear Grant's laughter again.

     J. T. focused on Jessica gently swaying in the rocking chair. Listening carefully, he swore he could hear her soothing voice sing a lullaby. The scene in the house was very hypnotic and he felt a sense of peace. For the first time in years, he wanted to belong to a family. To come home to a wife and children would be a peaceful change to the world he'd witnessed lately. Putting his arms around a woman at the end of the day, sharing the good and the bad would be heaven. J. T. quickly reached out and pressed the doorbell without another thought. He wasn't here for a touchy-feely moment. The child was the only reason he stood on her porch.

     The doorbell chimed, piercing the still morning. He could still see her image through the window as she walked toward the door. Her movements were lithe and gracefully. Enticing. With a moment of doubt, J. T. stepped back and started to retrace his steps down the porch when he heard the door open.

      The first thing he noticed when she opened the door were her rich brown eyes. Expressive bedroom eyes. He'd seen recognition in her gaze. In a moment of silence, a sensation of desire heated his blood. It had been too long since he had sex if one look from her had him thinking in that direction.