“George, you and Kurt⁠—”

  “No,” I said flatly. “You need to decompress, and I think sitting on that private balcony, next to a heater, with some coffee, might be a good thing.”

  I didn’t add that from a protection standpoint, I needed to be at the top of the stairs. If anyone breached the house, I would make my stand there and kill anyone who tried to get past me. But I didn’t need to scare her more than she already was, so I stayed quiet.

  She was overwhelmed with me wanting her to have the largest bedroom and started weeping, and Brad put his arm around her and walked her down to their room. Halfway there, she gasped, and when I looked, I too saw that the snow that had been a light flurry moments before was now a shower of white.

  “It’s so beautiful here.”

  It did look like some enchanted forest with the redwoods, oaks, and pine trees getting slowly covered in snow.

  “Whoever wakes up first gets breakfast going,” Kurt called to his sister. “I checked the refrigerator and pantry, and it’s fully stocked.”

  “Of course it is,” Thomasin said with a sigh. “These are George’s friends, after all.”

  It was a nice compliment.

  Thomasin and Brad tucked the boys into bed, and they were asleep in seconds.

  And now there was only the sound of the dogs downstairs, walking around, checking the house, and Bubs doing zoomies on the first floor.

  In our room, I walked over to the king-size bed and flopped down on top of it.

  “No,” Kurt scolded me. “Get up, take off your clothes, and get under the covers. I need a shower, and then I’ll join you.”

  I did as told, and because I was exhausted and aching, and because the house was secure, which I knew because I’d set the alarm myself, and everyone was safe, I was asleep before he came back.

  SIX

  Surprisingly for me, I woke around eight the following morning. Normally I was up before dawn, too many years of training to try and suppress to sleep in. Kurt was passed out, and I was careful not to wake him as I got out of bed. As tiring as the previous day had been for me, I could only imagine how it had been for Kurt. He’d been amazing, a rock for everyone, and as usual, caring and protective of me. He had to be both mentally and emotionally wrung out. Even with all that running through my mind, because letting him sleep in was paramount, I still had to kiss him on the forehead before I left the room. Luckily, he didn’t stir.

  After a shower, I went downstairs to find the tree decorated and with the gifts the family had brought from home clustered around the base on the skirt. I was impressed they’d found all the stuff to trick it out.

  “That looks awesome,” I announced to the room.

  “Yeah?” Toby asked me, his eyes lighting up. “You like it?”

  “I love it. You guys did a great job.”

  “Dad did the star by stacking chairs ’cause we couldn’t find a ladder.”

  I glanced at Brad, who was packing empty ornament boxes back into Rubbermaid tubs.

  “It’s not as much of an OSHA violation as you’re thinking,” he told me.

  “Sure,” I teased him.

  “George, I made breakfast.” Thomasin gestured for me to come into the kitchen. “I hope you like biscuits and gravy.”

  “I do,” I said, joining her.

  “No, go sit down. I’ll fix your plate.”

  I stopped moving and looked at her.

  “What?” she asked, appearing unsure.

  “I can make my own plate, Thom. You don’t need to serve me.”

  Her face scrunched up like she was on the verge of tears. “George, you’ve done so much for my family, and I⁠—”

  “I would do it again in a heartbeat,” I assured her. “And you don’t owe me anything.”

  She crossed her arms suddenly.

  “Will you sit and talk to me while I eat?”

  “I would love to,” she said with a sigh.

  “Is there coffee?”

  “Of course there’s coffee,” she said like I was nuts. “I could die without caffeine.”

  I smiled at her and started making my plate.

  “Oh, George,” she sounded so pleased. “I love that you’re eating my food.”

  “Whenever Kurt cooks for me, it’s a treat. So is this.”

  She nodded quickly.

  “Cooking is something you do to show your family you love them, isn’t it?”

  “Acts of service,” she told me. “That’s my love language.”

  “I figured,” I said, still piling food on my plate, glancing over at her. “Don’t cry.”

  “No. Absolutely not,” she said resolutely.

  I grinned at her.

  She poured me some coffee, then herself, and asked what I took in mine.

  My squint made her laugh.

  “Really? Black coffee?”

  “We don’t get to carry vanilla creamer when we’re in the field,” I teased her. “You get used to things. No one I know has ever said, man, I wish we had some hazelnut syrup.”

  That laugh of hers again—a good sound, deep, from her gut—made me smile. She got up then, or tried to.

  “I thought we were talking.”

  She sat back down quickly. “Oh, we are. I just⁠—”

  “You’re not used to sitting still.”

  Quick breath. “No.”

  “This is really good,” I said, taking another bite of biscuits covered in white sausage gravy. I had a patty as well and scrambled eggs. “Do you cook a lot?”

  “I do. It’s one of the things I showcase on my Instagram. I do a lot of streaming on TikTok as well.”

  “And you enjoy that?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “What would you be doing right now if nothing had happened?”

  “We’d be getting ready to go caroling.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You would be sorry if you had to see it,” Dennis said, taking a seat beside me at the island. “Or go with us. It’s the worst.”

  Thomasin turned to her son. “You don’t like caroling?”

  “No,” he said flatly, leaning against my shoulder. “I hate it.”

  “You hate it? I thought you loved singing in the choir.”

  “I like singing with my friends at school, not with you and Dad for your YouTube channel, wearing those stupid outfits.”

  “So stupid!” Toby called from the living room.

  She looked stunned.

  I started laughing.

  “My outfit has a green-and-red jacket that’s long in the back,” Dennis explained. “And I have a sparkly top hat. I look like a total douche.”

  I nearly spit out my food.

  “Dennis Frederick Carr!”

  “Frederick?” I teased him.

  He just shook his head. “I know. That’s the worst too. And my uncle Fred is kind of a jerk too. He calls me champ all the time.”

  “That’s nice, though, isn’t it?” I asked, trying to stop laughing.

  “No. It’s lame.”

  “I had no idea you hated caroling,” Thomasin told him, then looked at her husband. “Did you know?”

  I saw him grimace, clear as day.

  “You hate it too?”

  “Hate is a strong word.”

  They were killing me.

  “What word would you use?” she asked him sharply.

  He thought a moment. “Dislike intensely.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Brad, why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Because it makes you happy,” he said simply.

  Her eyes filled suddenly, and I was reminded that she was overwrought. I dealt with life and death a lot. Most people did not. It was more than most could handle.

  “You have to be honest with me,” she ordered her husband, then looked around the room. “All of you have to tell me when you hate things.”

  “I don’t think I can say anything at the moment,” Brad confessed. “Not after everything I’ve done.”

  She shook her head. “No. You explained everything last night. I know what happened, and let’s be honest, I knew things weren’t working out and that the houses weren’t selling as I’d hoped. I was fairly certain we were overextended, and I didn’t ask how you were taking care of that. I just let it go on.”

  “It’s not your⁠—”

  “The whole ignorance-is-bliss doesn’t fly,” she apprised him. “It’s not fair. I don’t get to blame you and take no responsibility.”

  He wiped at his cheeks, and she got up, walked over to him, and put her hands gently on his chest.

  “Look at me.”

  When he did, I noted how red his eyes were.

  “We’re going to get through this, and things are going to change when we get home. I don’t know what we’ll have to do, but we’ll be together, and that’s all that matters.”

  Brad grabbed his wife and crushed her to him, which she liked if the smiling through the gush of tears was any indication. She really loved him, and he felt the same, and that was nice to see. A weaker couple would not have made it, but I had all the faith in Brad and Thomasin.

  “I don’t care if we hafta move,” Toby chimed in, and both his parents turned to look at him. “I liked the old house better anyway.”

  “You did?” Thomasin asked him, wiping at her eyes.

  “Yeah. It was better.”

  “It was way better,” Dennis echoed his brother. “If we get a smaller house, can we get a dog? Gran says our house is too big and that’s why we can’t have any animals because Mom is more interested in keeping up appearances than giving us a normal home.”

  “What?” Brad asked him, looking horrified.

  “Gran said Mom actually hates Uncle Kurt’s dogs because they might make a mess in her perfect house,” Toby explained.

  “Brad!” Thomasin yelled at him.

  “I…what?”

  “Gran also says that Mom doesn’t really like to cook; she just likes to show off.”

  “Putting on hairs,” Dennis apprised us.

  “Airs, I think,” Toby corrected his brother. “Though I don’t really get that either.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Brad!” Thomasin yelled again.

  Apparently Brad’s mother was stirring the pot. “Sounds like you need to have a word with your mother,” I said, grinning at him.

  His groan sounded like he was dying.

  “I will murder her,” she promised.

  “Mom!” Toby sounded shocked.

  I went back to eating, and Dennis was content to sit beside me and tell me all about this new game he was playing on his Switch.

  After breakfast, Brad went outside to get the snow off the stairs. I had no idea why that was necessary. Thomasin had tried to help me do the dishes, but I explained that people who cooked did not clean up. She had eventually gone to the gym on the opposite end of the cabin to run off her breakfast. The boys were outside with the dogs in the snow, so when Kurt came down with wet hair sticking up, his glasses on instead of his contacts, looking more than a bit bleary from lack of sleep, I was the only one there to greet him.

  “Good morning,” I teased him as I loaded the dishwasher.

  “What’s happening?” he grumbled, sounding surly. “Why weren’t you in bed, and where is everyone, and where’s the coffee?”

  “That’s a lot of questions.”

  “Well, start answering.”

  “It’s after eleven,” I said. “And I’ve never slept in that late in my life, not even when I had pneumonia.”

  He grunted.

  “Your sister is running on the treadmill, the boys have your dogs in the snow, and Brad is shoveling the snow from the stairs for reasons I don’t understand.”

  “It’s so when it’s time for us to go, we won’t slip and fall.”

  “I never slip and fall,” I reminded him.

  “Well, not all of us have your balance,” he said irritably. “And the dogs and the kids will want to go up and down the stairs. There’s snow to run around in.”

  “I find your argument valid.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Stop being grouchy. I made you a plate, and the coffee is right there,” I said, tipping my head at the carafe. “It’s Christmas Eve. I expect you to be delightful.”

  He made a disgruntled noise and walked over to the machine, where I’d put out for him the biggest mug I could find.

  “Your plate is in the oven, so why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get it for you.”

  More grunting, but he took a seat at the island. He looked so good all rumpled, I couldn’t resist, and walked over, cupped his chin, tilted his head up, and kissed him.

  I meant to just give him a quick peck, but he turned on the stool and leaned into me. Arms wrapped around my neck, he mauled my mouth. It was quite a minty-toothpaste kiss from a man who was normally so contained and controlled.

  “I know why you’re a bit testy right now,” I teased him when I broke the kiss so I could breathe. “You expected to roll over and find me in bed this morning.”

  The slight whimper sent sparks of electricity straight to my dick. He may have missed me, but it went both ways.

  “You were asleep when I got out of the shower last night,” he whispered, kissing the side of my neck. “And you were right there with all your beautiful muscles and your gorgeous ass and quite a few bruises and—speaking of those bruises, you have stitches that⁠—”

  “No, no, no,” I rushed out, kissing him, parting his lips, tangling my tongue with his until I had to pull free. “Focus”—I barely got out, still panting—“on what you were saying about me in bed.”

  “I was going to roll you over and just attack you, but you needed to sleep.”

  “You can always attack me,” I assured him, leering, hands on his thighs, loving the feel of the hard muscles there. Kurt had great legs, strong and powerful from all the running and swimming he did. And having them wrapped around me in bed was something I dreamed about when I was away from him. “You know that.”

  He took my face in his hands. “Yesterday was different.”

  I chuckled. “I will take you riding me in bed over sleep anytime. Keep that in mind.”

  His breath caught suddenly.

  “What’re you doing?” I said when he let me go and couldn’t meet my gaze. “Why’re you—stop with this already.”

  He lifted his eyes to mine.

  “I’m fine, Kurt, you’re fine, everybody’s good.”

  “You had to kill people to save my family and⁠—”

  “You’re my family,” I told him. “And I would—what’s with the face?”

  His eyebrows had lifted, and he appeared to be waiting.

  “What?” I snapped at him.

  “I don’t know. You’re the one throwing words around, like family.”

  “You’re annoying,” I assured him, turning to move.

  Those legs of his wrapped quickly around me, and his right hand slipped around the side of my neck, his thumb sliding over my jaw. “I want the words.”

  I was suddenly panicked. “I—sorry?”

  “No,” he husked, and took a quick breath, his other hand on my nape, easing me closer. “I say it, and you know what’s in my heart, and it’s time, George Hunt, for me to hear what’s in yours.”

  “So you’re just gonna browbeat me into⁠—”

  “Now,” he rasped, his thumb siding across my lips, his eyes riveted there. “Tell me now, because if anything had happened to you yesterday and I didn’t hear the words… I could die from that. Do you understand? Every time you leave me and you haven’t said what’s in your heart, even though I know, it’s not enough, and that makes me ridiculous because you’re the strong, silent type, but⁠—”

  “I love you,” I nearly snarled at him. “You know I love you, you ass.”

  Instant radiant smile.

  “Maybe that could have been more romantic if you’d just let me say things in my own time.”

  “We’ll be having our twentieth wedding anniversary by the time you get around to it,” he said, chuckling, kissing my jaw. “God, I love you.”

  “Wedding anniversary?” I growled.

  He was laughing now, leaning into me, arms around my neck.

  “I am so not getting married.”

  That just made him laugh harder.

  “You think what, that we’ll just live in our house⁠—”

  “Our house,” he repeated with a sigh.

  “—with our stupid dogs and our annoying cat⁠—”

  “Our dogs, our cat,” he murmured, hugging me tight.

  “—and just what? Be happy and whatever?”

  “Yes,” he said, and I saw he was crying and laughing now. “We’ll be so happy. And you’re going to look really good with a wedding ring.”

  I had to argue. I had to. It was my default setting. “You hate it when I’m deployed.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But that’s because I worry. If you check in with me, I’ll be okay. And when you can’t, I’ll look at my ring and think of you and be okay until you get word to me.”

  “You—”

  “I don’t want to change you, and I don’t want you to try and change me. I fell in love with the sarcastic, annoying, disciplined man that you are, and⁠—”

  “Annoying?”

  He scoffed. “Yes, dear. So annoying. But that’s okay because I’m no picnic either. I know I’m exacting and compulsive and have to have everything a certain way, but I’ve found I don’t mind bending for you.”

  I grinned before I could stop myself. “Yeah, I know you like bending for me.”

  His chuckle was filthy.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked quickly, my mouth dry.

  “Yes,” he said, getting off the stool and walking toward the stairs without looking back at me. “Come with me.”

  “I need to remind you that your food is in the oven.”

  “Leave it,” he ordered, and started up.

  I was behind him quickly, and by the time he reached the top of the stairs, he was running, with me right on his heels.

 

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