He laughed a little. “Makes two of us. The wait will just make it more sweet when I can love you, Bay. In the meantime, we’re together, we can hold each other, kiss each other.... And that’s a helluva lot more than we had in Afghanistan.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SEVEN DAYS HAD passed and Bay checked her hematoma as she dressed after awakening. The swelling and infection were gone. Just pretty rainbow colors of yellow, green and blue, indicating the worst had passed in the area, remained. Sunshine poured through the woven drapes, flooding the bedroom. The clock read 0600.
Every day, she was waking up earlier, another indication she was over the worst of her trauma and jet lag. Never mind that three days ago, the emotional blowout she was expecting came when she was walking the beach at Coronado with Gabe. He’d held her in his arms, giving her the safety she needed as the deep sobs had torn out of her.
Today, they were buying a Christmas tree from a local vendor on the island and going to decorate it. It was something Bay eagerly looked forward to. Christmas was always a big deal in her family. After pulling on a dark red long-sleeved cotton tee, her black gabardine slacks, a pair of black, warm socks, Bay slipped into a pair of simple leather shoes.
Her heart swelled with affection when she thought of Gabe. She could hear him puttering around in the kitchen, the clinking noise of a skillet or pan, drifting down the hallway. She’d discovered another facet to this man: he was a gourmet cook. Who knew? Her hair was still damp, the brown curls beginning to form as she pushed her fingers through the strands. Walking down the hall, Bay wanted to be with him more than ever. The time of sleeping in separate bedrooms was over.
* * *
GABE LOOKED UP from the granite island where the stove was located. He saw Bay round the corner. Today, as never before, she looked whole, her eyes clear and sparkling. He loved her more every day. And now she was here, walking over to sit on a stool opposite him.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice still drowsy. Gabe was frying up a pound of bacon in a large black skillet. He smiled at her, turning the bacon.
“You look good this morning.” Hell, she looked good enough to eat. His body responded hotly to her presence. There was a special hell for men like himself who had the patience of Job. His master bedroom was just down the hall from the guest bedroom where Bay slept. It was tough getting to sleep knowing how close she was. Even tougher as his torrid dreams were always about kissing her, loving her, making her his own.
“I am.” Bay patted her left side. “My hematoma is practically gone.”
There was a wicked look in her blue eyes, something that had been missing since she’d arrived home. Oh, that look was almost always there the four months they’d had duty together. “Yeah?” he teased, moving to the counter and pulling down a couple of plates.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
Gabe poured her coffee and reached across the island and slid it into her awaiting hands. His heart lifted as their fingers briefly met. The mood around Bay was remarkably different. Better.
“So,” Gabe said, transferring the bacon to a plate with paper towels across it. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
He said it teasingly, always aware of not pressuring Bay. If she loved him as much as he loved her, her emergence from combat would take time. And God knew, he was a sniper and had patience to burn. It didn’t mean he liked it, but he accepted it because he had no desire to push himself on her before she was ready.
“I consider this a Christmas Eve gift for both of us,” she said, noticing a glint in his green eyes, wanting him, wanting to love him as fiercely as she could. She smiled a little as she sipped the coffee.
“Mmm,” he said, putting the bacon aside. “You are a gift,” he told her in a low, gritty tone. He saw heat and desire in her stare. “Well, then,” he said, a slow smile coming to his mouth, “we’re both going to need food for the long haul. How many eggs you want?”
“Good idea. I’m open to three. Want me to make toast?”
“Sure, go ahead.” He watched Bay slip off the stool. The bright red tee beautifully outlined her lean, strong body. Gabe knew he’d never tire of her grace as she moved. He busied himself with cracking six eggs into the skillet. “Ready to get that tree this morning?” Gabe wanted her to choose the time and place of coming together. Hell, he’d do it right now, but it was Bay’s call. There was something satisfying about waiting and knowing at some point she would approach him. Today was going to be a very special day, and Gabe was going to absorb every aspect of it as they moved toward each other’s arms.
Popping two slices of bread into the toaster, Bay said, “I am.”
“Are you going to call your mom tonight?” Gabe knew from talks with Bay that her family celebrated Christmas with all the trimmings. They had a baked goose with stuffing, candied yams, cranberry relish and pumpkin pie. He was going to make sure the two of them had those things this time. Cooking a goose was new to him, but he’d have her to help him figure it out.
“I will,” she said over her shoulder. “Strawberry jam?” Bay asked, opening the refrigerator.
“Yes. Is there anything else you want?” He looked over his shoulder as she stood at the counter, the silverware drawer open. Her profile sent his heart sky rocketing with need. Gabe wondered for the thousandth time how someone as sensitive and kind as Bay handled combat. But she could and did. She had emotions, but she knew when to put them in a box, just as SEALs did. He was mesmerized by how her emotions would then appear afterward to scrub her soul free of the carnage and trauma she’d seen and experienced. He guessed he didn’t have that mechanism.
Gabe forced himself to pay attention to the eggs in the skillet. Seeing her strength only made him love Bay more than he already did.
“You know what I want. I know what you want. I think strawberry jam tops your list of the good stuff in your life.”
“You top my list, baby, not the strawberry jam.” Gabe kept his eye on her as she pulled a large jar of jam from the refrigerator. She met his heated look and she brought over the jar to the island where they would eat.
“I think you have good taste.” Her heart fluttered over the sizzling look a man gives a woman that he’s going to make love to. Never had she yearned to be in a man’s arms more than his. Her lower body clenched beneath that his gaze. It excited her. Somehow she knew Gabe would be a considerate lover, a man who was as interested in pleasing her as himself. Her skin reacted to that thought, tiny tingles racing wildly throughout her, igniting a hunger she’d had to ignore until now.
“I know I do. Butter?”
“Umm, right...”
“Now, don’t get distracted,” Gabe teased, flipping the eggs over. Distracted? He was this close to destroying the eggs in the skillet. Bay had the ability to utterly disintegrate his focus. And as a sniper, he had laserlike focus. This quiet, gentle hill woman could make it so that only his body and heart survived her smile and shimmering blue stare. Now he was getting to see her under less stressful conditions. And he liked what he saw.
Bay laughed softly, retrieved the butter and set it on the island. She walked up behind Gabe and slid her arms around his waist. “You are a total distraction of the best kind,” she whispered, hugging him with all her strength. And then she released Gabe because he was trying to get the eggs out of the skillet.
“You’re a tease, you know that?” Gabe placed three eggs on each plate. Her unexpected affection blew through his carefully controlled movements. She was spontaneous and that was something new. Something good. He turned off the burner and put the spatula down on the island. Bay picked up the toast that had just popped out of the toaster. Wiping his hands on a cloth at the sink, Gabe watched her give him an impish smile. The change in her was breathtaking. Heart-stealing. Once Bay had been able to cry and off-load all the dark emotions caused by com
bat, she’d bounced back.
Gabe walked up to where she sat waiting for him, slid his hands around her face, trapping her. He leaned down and found her smiling lips. As his mouth moved hotly against hers, he heard her moan, her arms coming around his shoulders. She tasted like cinnamon and coffee. She deepened the kiss, drawing him closer, her fingers caressing the nape of his neck, moving through his short hair.
Bay sighed as Gabe eased away, breaking their kiss. Her lips tingled wildly in the wake of his powerful kiss. She looked up through her lashes into his stormy green gaze.
Gabe grimaced and grazed his hand across her soft, slightly damp hair. “Food is energy,” he gruffly agreed, and sat down next to her. “Let’s eat or else I’m carrying you off to my bedroom and we won’t emerge from it for the rest of the day or night.”
“You’re right, we have to eat, but I don’t want to.”
“Let’s eat,” he urged, his body turned into knots of fire and need. Gabe wanted this to be a perfect day for them. It was Christmas Eve. For once, he wanted to celebrate the holiday because he’d hated it as a boy with his drunken father always ruining the season for him and his mother.
As Bay sat at his elbow, the silence was broken only by soft, instrumental Christmas music from a radio.
“Who would ever have guessed you were such a gourmet cook?” she remarked.
He grinned as he sipped his coffee. “What? Men can’t cook?”
“Something like that,” Bay said, giving him an amused look. The salty bacon tasted delicious to her this morning. In fact, her world looked different. Before her emotional blowout, she’d felt moody and irritable at times. Gabe had taken it all in stride. “Your mom must have trained you.”
“Yes, she did. She was working full-time and told me that someday I’d get married and the woman shouldn’t have to be expected to be chief cook and house cleaner.” His mouth drew into a grin. “I got trained real early.”
“I can hardly wait to meet her,” Bay said, slathering the strawberry jam across her piece of toast. “My mama believed men should help in the kitchen and do the cleaning, too.”
“I’m fully trained,” Gabe assured her with a chuckle. He saw the soft pink flush cross Bay’s cheeks. He’d never seen her so upbeat and happy. She seemed to be decompressing, coming back to who she really was when her life wasn’t being threatened daily. The change rocked his world, and all Gabe wanted to do was love her thoroughly, completely and hold her against his naked body.
“I’m so excited to be getting a Christmas tree today,” she said. “Do you have any decorations for it?”
He shook his head. “No.” And when he saw her disappointment, he added, “Christmas wasn’t a big deal at our house, Bay. My father hated the holidays and I can’t ever remember one Christmas when he wasn’t angry and constantly arguing with my mother. I hid a lot during those times because I knew he’d take out his anger on me if I was around. After my dad passed, we were on my mother’s income and things were tight. She saved the money for a few gifts for me, instead of buying a tree.”
Bay reached out and slid her fingers across his shoulder. “That’s okay. We’re going to have an old-fashioned Christmas just like we have at our cabin. Are you game? It will be fun.” Bay gave him a pleading look.
“Sure, I’m open to it. I want to know about you, your family and your traditions.” There was an effortlessness to Bay, he’d discovered early on in Afghanistan. Anyone who was in her presence automatically felt as if they counted the most in her life. She had a nuanced ability to make everyone feel special beneath her sunshinelike personality.
Gabe felt like the luckiest damn man on the planet to have her here with him now. To be the object of her full, undivided attention. And he was lapping it up like a starving animal. Always, Gabe wondered how Bay had survived three years of combat. He also realized she had a tough, tensile inner strength that was like a GPS unit, always bringing her back into balance within herself. It made him feel so damn lucky. And he’d never had any luck in his life until she’d walked into his world that day in Afghanistan.
Rubbing her hands together, Bay whispered, “Good! You’re going to love how we celebrate Christmas!”
* * *
GABE SAT AT the granite island midafternoon with Bay. The Christmas tree was standing in the corner of the living room, ready to be decorated. She had popped popcorn and brought over a huge bowl and set it between them. She’d shown him how to string the kernels on a long thread with a needle, and now he had about two feet of it snaked out to the left of him across the island. And while he was doing that, she had brought over colorful construction paper, scissors, glue and bottles of glitter.
Bay slid up on the seat beside him. “You have to remember, my family isn’t well off. I grew up stringing popcorn for the tree, using construction paper to draw stars, round circles, Christmas trees and then putting glue on them and sprinkling them with glitter.” She picked up the scissors, expertly beginning to cut circles to be the bulbs for their six-foot fir tree.
“This is kinda fun,” Gabe admitted, watching her hands fly over the paper and producing dozens of circles on the counter.
“Me and my sister always looked forward to Christmas Eve. Mama would have all the items laid out on the table.” She felt warmth watching Gabe struggle with the needle and thread. A combat medic he was not. Half the popcorn ended up broken and falling around the bowl. He had large hands and the delicate kernels weren’t exactly his forte. Imagining those scarred, sun-darkened hands moving across her body made Bay’s lower body burn with anticipation.
By 8:00 p.m. the paper decorations and the long white swaths of popcorn adorned the tree. Gabe had attached a paper star that had gold glitter to the top of it. Bay got her cell phone and clicked a photo of their hard work and sent it to her mother and sister. Gabe did the same and sent a picture to his mother. Their families might not be with them, but they were there with them in spirit.
The tree was adorned and Gabe seemed to enjoy every second of this special day. This evening, she’d felt caught up in the spirit of Christmas, more so because he was with her.
Bay felt him approach her from behind and she turned around. She saw the look on Gabe’s face and slid her arms around his shoulder, happy to be drawn up against his body. “You know what I want as a gift for Christmas?”
“What?” he asked.
“You.”
Gabe gave her a heated look, lifting his hand and smoothing a few tendrils away from her flushed cheek. “Funny,” he murmured, his mouth stretching into a teasing line, “I was going to tell you the same thing.” His mouth grew into a full smile, his eyes shining with love for her alone.
“We’re mind readers.” She laughed, sliding her hand across his jaw, the prickle of his beard sending tingles through her fingertips.
“Are you ready for this?” Gabe asked, searching her eyes.
“More than ready. ”
“What about the hematoma?”
“Good as new.” Bay saw his concern. Giving him a shake, she said, “Gabe, I’m not some fragile egg, you know. I’m strong now. All that’s left of that hematoma is an ugly bruise.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and her voice lowered with feeling. “How long have we waited for this?”
In one motion, Gabe picked her up into his arms. “Too damn long....”
With a gasp of surprise, Bay gave a laugh and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her across the living room and down the hall to his room. Gabe nudged the door open. Bay had seen his room before, but tonight the lights along the edge of island were shining like small, dancing beams across the smooth ocean that surrounded Coronado. He laid her on the bed and walked over and closed the drapes. The room became shadowy and intimate.
She watched him walk with that boneless, confident grace as he came back to the bed. Her heart began t
o beat a little stronger in her chest as he closed the door and turned toward her. His eyes met hers. The naked desire in them made Bay’s heart fly open.
Gabe crouched near her feet, a wry look on his face. “If I told you how many times I’d undressed you in my dreams while I was in Afghanistan, you wouldn’t believe me.” He removed each of the shoes from her feet and he leaned down, placing a featherlight kiss at the top of her right ankle, his fingers sliding between her flesh and the sock. As he eased it slowly off her foot, he kissed her here and there.
Bay smiled and closed her eyes. “You weren’t the only one undressing somebody.” She sighed softly. “That feels so good...” she whispered, the tiny wavelets of tingles moving across each of her feet and up her ankle.
Gabe dropped the socks on the floor. Getting up, he moved to her hips, sliding his hands slowly around her waist. “I’ll bet I did it more times than you.” He held her slumberous gaze.
“I lost count,” Bay admitted, feeling his roughened fingers slide down between her skin and the waistband. He slowly unbuttoned her slacks. Her abdomen tightened in anticipation of his touch. The sound of the zipper came next and his hand slipped beneath the material, her flesh taut as he pulled the slacks downward off her hips. As he brought the slacks over her thighs, he stopped, brushed each one with several provocative kisses. Bay strained, her curved thighs tensing as he would lick a spot on the inside of each one and then kiss it tenderly before moving on. The slacks dropped beside the bed.
Bay’s lower body grew needy and damp as his lips traced a slow, fiery path inward on each of her thighs. She ached for his continued touch, his mouth rasping across her sensitized flesh. Her fingers curled into the silky fabric and she moaned. Gabe followed the line of her silken panties, his tongue probing beneath the material. She wanted so much more of him.
He followed the curve of the cloth, pushing it aside, lips caressing her. Bay’s breath jammed in her chest, her entire lower body erupting with heat, a cramping pain clenching down through her womb. She reached out, her fingers grazing his powerful shoulder.
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