The Marine's Holiday Harbor

by Kirsten Lynn

  She locks her gaze with mine before raising and lowering her hips. She moves in the rhythm I’ve set; slow and steady, a cadence to keep us connected as long as possible.

  Her fingernails dig into my hand. Her chest rises and falls with deep breaths. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Angel.”

  “Make me fly.”

  Releasing her hands, I rock in and out of her harder and deeper and she moves to meet me stroke for stroke. She locks her legs and arms around me like I’m the anchor holding her to earth. Her lips part as if she needs to call out, but she doesn’t. Like a string pulled tight then released right before it breaks, her body trembles and then relaxes. Her inner muscles close around my cock and work me. She peppers kisses on my neck and shoulder and chest as I continue to ride her until, I flex my hips driving deep in a mind-numbing climax.

  As I drift back to earth, Brynn traces my face with the tip of her finger. I brace my weight on my arms and hover above her.

  “Do you know how sexy you are picking out toys?”

  Thinking I must have popped a few brain cells with the last orgasm, I laugh. “What?”

  “You are so hot picking out toys. It’s the intensity; every one has to be perfect.”

  I shake my head. “You’re crazy.”

  She gives my shoulder a shove and her nose wrinkles. “You are. Extremely sexy. I want a dozen babies so I can watch you pick out all the toys every Christmas.”

  “A dozen babies won’t give you much time to do much about how sexy I am after we pick out the toys.”

  “True. Okay, two more.”

  I tug her more securely under me. “I am crazy in love with you. I will give you all the babies you want, Brynn. And I will pick out all the toys if it turns you on. And I swear I will wipe noses, help with math assignments, and even be Mrs. Phillapot for tea, whatever it takes. I will adore every child that comes from your body. And I will continue to adore the two down the hall that come from the heart.”

  “Caleb.”

  I kiss her forehead. “No more talk tonight. I want to worship you for a few more hours, because it doesn’t take you doing anything to turn me on. Just you being on this earth does that.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Brynn

  I jolt awake when a tiny finger nudges my shoulder. I feel the large form surrounding me tense as Caleb wakes, feeling the change in my body. Mentally calculating and confirming he and I aren’t naked and the covers are up, concealing where he’s hiked up the T-shirt I wore to bed and rests his hand on my thigh. I turn my attention to the owner of the finger. My gaze collides with ice-blue eyes in a pixie’s face.

  “Momma, Santa came. You and Daddy have to come.”

  Groaning, I try to sink farther under the covers. “Baby girl, ten more minutes.”

  Her smile turns to a stern frown. “He brought lots.”

  We know he brought lots, though we didn’t give Santa credit for much when we started spreading out the loot. We commented on it the night before when we were still wrapping it all at midnight, but Caleb insisted each thing be wrapped separately no matter how small. Following the wrapping, we then sat down to eat the sugar cookies and drink the milk left for Santa. It really was the perfect Christmas Eve.

  When I close my eyes, she turns to the big gun. “Daddy, please. It’s hard waiting.”

  He shakes my hip and I know the battle is lost. “Come on, Angel.”

  I want to remind him, he’s the reason I’m exhausted and questioning if I’ll be able to walk. Since the other night, he’d made it his personal holiday mission to unwrap me every night, all night.

  “Is your brother up?” I grasp for my last hope.

  “He’s downstairs.”

  “Okay, baby, we’ll be down in a minute.”

  She hops off the bed and from the top of the stairs screams, “They’re coming!”

  I join Caleb chuckling and try to slide to the edge. Caleb holds me tight. “No Christmas kiss?”

  Shifting in his arms, I narrow my gaze. “Wasn’t it just supposed to be a Christmas kiss last night?”

  “You’re safe—we’ve got kids waiting.” He presses his mouth to mine and gently adds pressure until my lips part. The kiss is tender and sweet. “Merry Christmas, Brynn.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Are you coming?”

  “Ella, leave them alone.”

  I shake with the laughter I’m trying to keep silent. Caleb scrubs a hand over his face and swings his legs off the bed, pulling on his sweats and a T-shirt. “You know that promise I made about as many kids as you want…”

  Tugging on my sweats and a cardigan, I wag a finger at him. “No takebacks, Caleb Quinlin.”

  He assumes a façade of anger, but his eyes spark before we trudge down the stairs.

  The second I enter the living room, thoughts of sleep transform to the joy of Christmas. The scent of pine fills the room and the glow of the fairy lights against the snowflakes on the other side of the window paints the perfect-picture of Christmas. Ella and Michael are adorable in the Christmas pajamas, Ella’s with reindeer and Michael’s with snowmen, and the enthusiasm is contagious.

  “Merry Christmas!” Caleb and I harmonize.

  Michael hugs me. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

  He hugs Caleb next, and Caleb ruffles his hair after the hug. “Merry Christmas, son.”

  I grunt when Ella practically jumps in my arms, and I set her on my hip. “It’s Christmas!” she announces.

  “Yes it is, Little Bit.” Caleb chucks her chin. “Let’s get started.”

  “I’ll hand out gifts,” Michael volunteers, and takes my hand. “Come over here and sit.”

  Setting Ella on her feet, I follow Michael’s lead. She doesn’t stay grounded for long and goes to Caleb, who swoops her up. I sink onto the couch where Michael gestures and Caleb sits next to me, his focus is on Michael, and he looks almost as excited as the boy.

  Michael steps next to my legs and holds out a small package clearly professionally wrapped in silver paper and with blue ribbon. “Michael?”

  “Open it, Momma.”

  All eyes in the room are on me, and I feel like the only one not privy to what’s in the box. After taking the gift, I tug off the blue ribbon. Michael leans closer and rests a small hand on my leg. Unwrapping the paper, I lift the lid of the box off and swallow the boulder of emotion in my throat. On a bed of cotton sit silver snowflake earrings so delicate and lacy they almost look too fragile to wear. The first warm tear cuts down my cheek.

  His fingers curl around my sweats. “Do you like them?”

  Lifting my gaze to his, I smile. “I couldn’t love a gift more, Michael.” Caleb rests his hand on my back, knowing I’m not just talking about the earrings but the one who gifted them too.

  “Put them on,” Michael orders, then his cheeks turn red. “Please.”

  “Absolutely.” I take one of the earrings and start putting it on.

  “Dad helped me pick them out. But I paid for them all by myself.”

  I cut a look to Caleb then back to Michael. My dad told me he gave each of the children ten dollars the day of Christmas by the Sea, thinking they’d spend it on themselves. These are not ten-dollar earrings. But under torture, Caleb and I would both confirm Michael paid for them all by himself.

  “He sure did.”

  I fasten the other earring and pull my hair back so he can see. “They’re beautiful.” I hug him and drop a kiss to the top of his head. “I love them, and I love you.”

  He nods to his sister, who is staring at the earrings and the wrapping paper, and it’s not hard to read her disappointment that she doesn’t have a gift for me. “I forgot they’re from Ella, too.”

  Ella smiles and I give her a hug. “Thank you, Ella, for the beautiful gift. I love you, too.”

  Caleb rests a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Proud of you.”

  I wrap an arm around his waist and give him a quick squeeze. “Okay, I a
m not the only one getting presents today. There is a pile over there, so we better get to unwrapping.”

  “Aw, Michael wins.” I laugh, then take a swallow of my peppermint tea, choosing the soothing brew to the children’s hot chocolate or Caleb’s coffee.

  Caleb and I are getting our asses kicked at Rat-a-Tat-Cat, one of the family games we got, and what’s sad is we’re not losing on purpose.

  I lean back in my chair. “Okay, kiddos, I’m pulling the sore loser card. You guys go play in the living room for a bit.”

  They both start cleaning up the cards with pictures of cats and rats on them. Caleb stops them. “Go ahead and play—your mom and I will clean up.”

  “Okay.” Michael and Ella say in unison.

  They push off their chairs around the table and scamper into the living room. My stomach roils when I stand, and Caleb waves me down. “I’ll get it.” He cleans up the cards and puts the lid on the game box. “Nothing like a game suitable for a four-year-old to reinforce that you suck at math and have no memory.”

  I laugh. “You’re a math genius.”

  He huffs a laugh. “Yeah, right.” He glances over my head and out the window. “Still snowing.”

  “Good thing we decided to have our Christmas with just us out here.”

  “You still all right with that?”

  “I am. It was nice both yesterday and today doing what we wanted, fixing a small turkey dinner and having more time enjoying the children instead of sharing them.” Saying the word turkey turns my stomach, and I take a quick gulp of tea. “Plus, the way I’m feeling I don’t want to be in a crowded house.”

  “Shit, Brynn, you okay? You need to go to urgent care?”

  “No.”

  “Why is it the corpsman is always the last to take care of themselves?”

  I frown over my mug. “I’m not. I have medicine here if I need it. I think I just ate too much dressing.”

  “Right. You want more tea to settle the dressing?”

  “Yes, and don’t be an ass. It’s Christmas.”

  “Roger that. Initiating Christmas cheer even though you’re about to puke.”

  “I’m going in the living room to join the happy elves. You can bring the tea in there.”

  “Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Claus.” He stops me before I get to the archway between kitchen and living room. His smile fades as he cups my cheeks. “You have a fever, Angel.”

  “I took Motrin.”

  “Go ahead and change into sweats, sprawl on the couch. I’ll see to supper.”

  It sounds like a command, but it’s an offer I can’t refuse. “Aye, aye.”

  “So stubborn.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Claus.”

  With each step up the stairs my good humor fades. Operation Perfect Christmas did not include feeling like crap. I step into the bedroom and start taking out the earrings Michael gave me. My gaze drops to the tactical MOLLE stockings Mom and Dad sent the other day with Brian for Caleb and me, each pocket filled with a small gift, candy, books, and gift cards. Michael and Ella had more fun watching us unload our stocking than looking in theirs.

  Thinking of their faces as they opened their gifts and even more so as we opened ours, I adjust my attitude. It wasn’t the Christmas I envisioned, but it is the perfect Christmas.

  After changing into my sweats, I grab a blanket, which happens to be Caleb’s poncho liner again, and head back down the stairs. Caleb’s voice stops me at the second to last step.

  “Mom doesn’t feel good, so we’re going to suggest Christmas movies instead of more games.”

  “Okay,” their small voices harmonize.

  “And we’re going to eat our turkey sandwiches in the kitchen instead of living room so she doesn’t smell them.”

  “Okay.”

  My heart. They are all so sweet.

  Walking by the kitchen, I almost melt at the scene of my family around the table eating their turkey sandwiches and potato chips. Michael watches Caleb, trying to mimic him, but can’t grip the sandwich the same due to his cast. Ella is trying her best to get her small mouth around the stacked turkey.

  Before I’m spied, although I’m sure Caleb knows I’m there, I head to the couch. It seems he and I will need another talk about how much Ella and Michael can eat compared to a full-grown Marine.

  I’m settled on the couch with the poncho liner tucked around me and almost asleep when a tiny hand wakes me for the second time today. “Momma, I’ll sit with you.”

  Caleb sweeps her up. “No, Little Bit, we don’t want you to get sick, too.” Her frown mirrors mine, but he’s right and his raised eyebrow challenges me to fight it. His gaze then drops to the poncho liner and I swallow my argument. “You ready for more tea?”

  “No thank you.”

  He settles in the recliner with Ella on one side and Michael on the other. I sit up and try to follow the animated Christmas story. I cut a glance to the recliner to find two elves fast asleep using Caleb for a mattress.

  “Did they brush their teeth?”

  He smiles and huffs a laugh. “Yes, Mom, when you were sleeping earlier.”

  “I didn’t sleep.”

  “Really? They ate, we got ready for bed, and they brushed their teeth and washed their little pumpkin pie–covered faces all before Ella served as alarm clock.”

  I scowl at them noticing; for the first time they are in their pajamas and Caleb in sweatpants and a T-shirt. It’s clearly time to come clean. “I’m sick.”

  “I know, Angel.”

  “It sucks. You never get sick.”

  “Is getting blown up a fair trade?”

  “Don’t even joke about that.” Changing the subject is my only defense. “You never told me what the wrong was the other night.”

  “You want to talk about that on Christmas?”

  “Christmas is the best time, because on Christmas everything is right even what’s wrong.”

  “That’s some twisted reasoning, but I’ll give it to you. I worry about Hal.”

  “About?”

  “I can’t imagine he’s given up without a fight. And with what Mom said about Alice. It’s like wading into a minefield.”

  “What does Audrey say?”

  “She hasn’t heard from him for a few days, since he told her he was moving to Portland. Then she saw him going into his office today when she was headed to your folks’ house.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Live our lives, but keep situational awareness until he’s gone.”

  I don’t respond, lost in thought. The popping of the fire and movie lull me back to my previous peace.

  “Sorry you asked?”

  I rake my gaze over him and the children. “No, everything is still right. You’re holding them and they couldn’t be safer.”

  “Today was the best Christmas of my life, Brynn.”

  “Mine, too, even being sick.”

  “You ready for New Year’s Eve?”

  “Yes. I’ll try not to puke on you.”

  “That’d be a bonus, but even if you do I’ll still say I do.”

  “I always have and always will.”

  “You sleeping in bed?”

  The thought of lying down flat makes my bones ache. “Negative.”

  “I’ll sleep down here in the chair then.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “No way I’m sleeping in that bed alone.” He nods down to the kids. “Should we let them sleep under the tree like they’ve been asking?”

  “Looks like they already claimed their spot.”

  “I wouldn’t need a blanket, they’re like hot lava. Is that a kid thing, that your body temperature rivals the sun?”

  I chuckle at his feigned irritation. He’d let them sleep on him and love it even as he grumped about it.

  “Merry Christmas, Caleb.”

  “Merry Christmas, Angel.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Caleb

  “Hey Brian, Merry Christmas a day late.” I w
alk toward his truck in the parking lot to Hannaford’s Store and Pharmacy.

  “Back at ya. Mom sent this for Brynn.” He lifts a cooler. “It’s enough turkey soup for everyone and her homemade rolls.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Sure. How’s she doing?”

  “She’s wicked sick. We’ve passed the alien trying to break free stage, but it’s not the sound of carols coming from the house.”

  Brian steps back like I might be contagious. “I’ll skip visiting the house this afternoon.”

  “Wise choice” I lift the bag from the pharmacy. “Now, I better get the elixir of life home.” My phone buzzes and I lift a hand in a bye to Brian as I swipe the answer button. “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Caleb, you need to get home. I just saw your father’s boat heading to the lighthouse.”

  My heartrate skyrockets and a wave a nausea to rival Brynn’s flu hits. “Got it.” I disconnect. “Brian!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mom spotted one of Hal’s boats headed to the lighthouse. I’m heading there STAT! I need you to get whatever authorities needed and get your ass out there.”

  As I’m issuing orders, I’m climbing in the truck. I pull out of the parking lot, not waiting for confirmation; Brian will take care of it. I turn down Elm to Bay View. When I get to the dock I barely stop the truck before bursting out and double-timing it to the cruiser.

  Brynn

  With a groan, I shift on the couch and force my heavy eyelids open. Michael is building a ship with Legos and Ella is checking her bulldog’s heart and fitting him for a cone of shame.

  Michael lifts his gaze. “Did you need something, Mom?”

  To have my insides put back into place. “No. You?”

  “No, Dad said we’d have lunch when he got back.”

  “Good.”

  The roar of a speedboat’s engine getting closer to the island raises my hackles. “Look outside and tell me who’s in the boat, please?”

  Michael nods and steps around the Christmas tree. “I don’t know. He’s big, though, and driving one of Granddad Hal’s boats.”

  My blood freezes and Caleb’s concerns about Hal cause a flood of adrenaline to push me forward. “Michael, get away from the window.” I push up and grab their coats, hats, and gloves from the coat rack. I yank on my coat and go to Ella, giving Michael his outerwear as I pass. “Put that on, hurry.”