Tempting the Soldier Read online Hope Ford (American Heroes #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: American Heroes Series by Hope Ford
Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 88(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

(American Heroes #1) Tempting the Soldier

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Hope Ford

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B08BKW2MTZ
Book Information:

She’s going to bring him to his knees. He’s a big, strong military man.
Women want him and men want to be like him. So what could he have in common with the mousy librarian?
He doesn’t want marriage and she doesn’t want a fling. She may not realize it, but she’s tempting the soldier…
And just may bring him to his knees.
Books in Series:

American Heroes Series by Hope Ford

Books by Author:

Hope Ford



1

Travis

If my brothers in arms could see me now. I shake my head, knowing that they would be giving me shit if they got a load of me right now. It’s like I’ve turned into a housewife instead of the military soldier I am. I push the cart to the next aisle and look at the list. Basil. Easy enough. And then I notice it says fresh basil in my aunt’s small cursive stroke. I wad up the paper and put it in my pocket since that’s the last item on the list.

I get to the produce aisle and stand in front of a completely green section. There seems to be a lot of options and when I see the sign that says basil, the bunches of green leaves are so close together, I can’t tell which is which. Looking up and down the aisle, there’s no employee within sight.

I’m about to do eenie meenie miney mo when I hear someone with a cart rolling up behind me. She’s a young, full-figured woman in a baggy top and her hair in a bun. She looks old-fashioned and fainthearted. Her buggy is full and I’m almost sure she can help me just by looking at the many fresh vegetables that are in her cart. “Excuse me, Miss?”

She startles when she hears the deep baritone of my voice in the quiet aisle. She looks skittish and as if she may bolt at any minute. And I’m afraid she just might, until she sees the scars on the side of my face. Instantly, I see her soften and in return my face hardens. I don’t like the pitying look she gives me. The scar doesn’t bother me, not anymore, but the way people react to it does. I would much rather they give me a disgusted look and turn away instead of the looks of sympathy or pity. Gritting my teeth together, I mutter, “I’m sorry to bother you, but my aunt has asked me to pick up basil- I mean fresh basil and I can’t tell which one it is.”

She looks between the green vegetables and herbs over my shoulder and then back to me, almost questioningly. Finally, she pushes her glasses further up her nose and lets out a soft breath. “Sure. What kind of basil does she need?”

I cross my arms over my chest and shrug. “Fresh.”

She tries to hide her smile and covers her mouth as she gives off a fake cough. “Uh, well, there’s sweet basil, cinnamon basil, lemon basil.” She’s pointing at each of the herbs on the shelf, like she recognizes which one is which. It all just looks like green weeds to me.

She looks up at me expectantly and for the first time, I get a clear view of her dark brown eyes. There is a fleck of gold in each one and I bend down to get a closer look, wondering if it’s the shining lights in the building or if there are actually gold flecks.

She takes a step back and starts to fidget again. “Okay, well, let’s see. Do you know what your aunt is cooking?” She turns away from me, staring at the herbs in front of us.

Instead of answering her, I take this time to look at her. To really look at her. I start at her legs, which are covered in a long skirt that covers her ankles, then I glance at the big sweater she’s wearing. Her red hair is tight in a bun, but there are a few pieces that are whisping around her face. Whisping? Fuck, I need to get outta here. I need to go lift some iron or go shoot something, I’m almost waxing poetic and the thought just gets me back on task. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

She still won’t look at me. And that sort of pisses me off a little. I’m not used to timid women and the fact that I scare her, that she can’t look at me, sort of bothers me. “Spaghetti… or something Italian anyway.”

Her face lights up. “Um,” she moans, and as she does, I wonder if she realizes what that sound does to a man. Especially one that can’t remember the last time he had a woman. She points to one of the green bunches. “This is the one you want. It’s sweet basil and is perfect for Italian food. Now, to pick out a good bunch, you look for the ones with vibrant green leaves. And no dark spots too.” She plucks a bunch off the shelf and holds it under her nose, taking a deep breath. When she breathes it in, she moans again.

I make a point not to adjust myself while she’s standing beside me. I have a feeling if I do, she’s going to run screaming. She holds out the bunch to me. “Smell it.”

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