by Zoe York
“It’ll be early for you.”
“I’ll be up. It’s fine.”
“Then we’ll do that.”
He yawned. “I was up at dark o’clock to do my annual fit test. So I want you to crawl into bed and tell me about the birthday plans and anything else that I’ve missed in the last few days.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. Can we switch to video?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Sure.”
She ended the call and switched to Skype. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which she found really distracting. And she wasn’t wearing makeup and her hair was a mess, but on her preview screen it didn’t look that bad. And it didn’t really look like Zander was perusing her outfit, either. His gaze was locked on hers. “Hi.”
She wiggled her fingers and gave him a small smile.
“Birthday party?” he prompted, and she nodded. She told him about the ten kids that would descend on her place in another week, a few days after Eric’s actual birthday. They talked until they were both yawning.
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” Faith whispered, her head on the pillow.
Zander gave her an almost smile, but his eyes were impossibly warm and full of love. “Then just say goodnight.”
“Night,” she murmured. “I love you.”
“Love you too, babe. Always.”
— —
Zander’s phone rang at half past five the next morning. He jackknifed out of bed and hit answer. “Minelli.”
Eric’s little giggle made the heart attack totally worth it. “Hi Zander.”
“Hey, bud. Getting ready for school?”
“Yep. You back from army work?”
Zander shook the cotton out of his head and tried to figure that one out. “Pardon?”
“Mommy said you went to army work.”
Ah. “Yeah, I’m back at my base.”
“I went to my base yesterday, too.”
“Did you?”
Eric explained how they’d gone to the park and met Dani, and on the way back, he’d stopped in at his spy base and done some training.
Zander lay back down on his bed and listened to the story. It was fantastical and innocent. Never grow up, Eric. He was perfect just the way he was.
“What kind of tank do you drive?” Eric asked.
Zander held off on the lecture about how infantrymen didn’t drive tanks, that was the artillery. “If we go in an armoured vehicle, it’s called a LAV. Not a tank, and I don’t drive it, but close enough.”
“We have spy LAVs. I think we do, anyway.”
“That’s great. Do you by any chance have spy rations? Because if I get cabbage rolls again, I’m going to scream. So if you have a better food distributor, maybe we could tell the Canadian Forces.”
Eric giggled. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Zander grinned. “Time for school now?”
“Yeah.”
“Miss you.”
“Miss you, too.”
He heard that little voice over and over again all day, and it kept him calm until he got home and got to hear it again.
He was just marking time now. Worst kind of soldiering, but he had trouble caring.
His heart was in Tobermory, as simple as that.
If duty actually required his attention, he’d shift it, of course. But as long as he could get through his tasks on auto-pilot, he’d leave his focus where it belonged.
When Faith called back that night, after Eric was racked out, the last thing he wanted to talk about was work.
“Tell me about your writing instead,” he said as he settled on his bed. Talking to Faith had become his anchor. He’d talked more in the last two months than in the twenty years before that, and it felt surprisingly good.
Sharing for the win.
But tonight he just wanted her to share.
“I don’t know, how much do you want to know?”
“All of it. What are you writing?”
“Well, that book that I was writing while you were here, that’s done, and I’ve gotten edits back on it. I added…” She stopped and blushed.
“Added?”
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “Um…”
“Is it dirty? I approve.”
She laughed. “Not really. A little. I added a new guy to the story, and instead of him being a secondary character, I think I’m shifting the series into the urban fantasy romance category.”
“So Vera actually gets to keep a guy now?”
She stared at the screen. “Have you been reading my books?”
He grinned. “You’re a good writer.”
She squeaked and buried her face in the blanket.
“Faith?”
“Go away!”
He laughed and she peeked one eye up at the screen. “How many books have you read?”
“All of them. Can I have an advance copy of the new one? Who is this guy, anyway?”
— —
Faith couldn’t look Zander in the eye. “He’s…well, I started writing him that night we met in Greta’s.”
“The notes you were taking while we talked?” He sounded…proud.
She glanced up. “Yes?”
“What’s his name?”
“Deacon.”
He made a noncommittal noise and rubbed his thumb along his jaw. “Does he have the power to make Vera do things like…give him a blow job?”
So he’d read the second book, with the wizard who cast an uninhibited spell on Vera, great.
He winked at her. “I’m definitely hoping that the next dirty blow job Vera gives someone will be Deacon. I have to admit I don’t much like the idea of her with anyone else.”
Oh God, she was going to die from embarrassment. “She’s only just met Deacon. Anything she did before he stormed into her life can’t be held against her.”
“I said I didn’t like it. Deacon’s a cool guy. He might even like to hear about some of those stories.”
“It’s not that kind of book. I mean, their relationship will grow, and Vera likes sex, but my readership doesn’t like long sex scenes.” Now she was just babbling. Nerves were shoving useless bits of information out of her mouth and she couldn’t stop it.
Zander gave her a pointed look. He’d rolled onto his back and propped a second pillow behind his head. “Faith. Focus. I’m trying to suggest… you know. That I might like to hear some of your stories.”
Oh. She blushed and dropped her face into the blanket again.
She’d never get enough of the sound of his laugh, even when she was burning up inside because he saw inside her filthy head.
“So that’s a no to the video sexting?”
“It’s not a no,” she mumbled. Her breasts were already heavy and aching, responding to his voice and missing his touch. “It’s a…give me a minute.”
“Should I go first?”
She rolled onto her side and propped her tablet against the headboard. “Depends on what kind of stories you want to share.”
“Fictional ones, of course. Bedtime stories about a beautiful writer and the handsome soldier who inspired one of her characters.”
“Sounds like a cliché.”
He laughed. “Take your pants off.”
She did as she was told. “What kind of stories do you want me to tell you?”
“Did you do any experimenting in college?”
She laughed so hard she snorted. “I kissed a girl at a house party once. Maybe twice? Truth or dare was a popular game.”
“Where did you go to university?”
“Toronto. My dad was a professor, so I got free tuition.”
“And little did he know you were kissing girls…” Zander winked, then rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. “I can’t see all of you. Scoot back a bit.”
She moved so she was laying sideways on the bed, her bare legs curled up in front of her. “How about you, any experimenting in the army?”
“No, but I can probably ma
ke up a shower story if you want to hear one.”
She shook her head. “You know what I want to know about? Your first time. Provided it was when you were a teenager and the person you lost your virginity to is now happily married and driving a minivan.”
He howled, then gave her a hooded, heavy look. “I think she is, actually. You really want to know about that?”
“How old were you?”
An adorable wince told her that yes, she wanted to know this. She wanted to know everything about him. “Fifteen.”
“Zander Minelli! How scandalous.”
“I went through puberty early. I already had chest hair. How old were you?”
“Seventeen. High school boyfriend. No clue where he is now.”
“He was the same age as you?”
She nodded. “Wait, your first time was with someone older?”
Another wince. “It was the summer between grade ten and grade eleven, and Dean and I snuck out to a bush party, mostly seniors heading off to college in the fall, some people back for the summer. All college-aged, anyway. And we were so sure we’d be caught and kicked out for being kids, but we’d both sprouted up that summer, and they thought we were older than we were…”
“Where did it…happen?”
“Front seat of a pickup truck. It didn’t last long.”
“Awwww. Poor teenage Zander.”
“The first time. I was ready to go again pretty soon, and she had a bunch of condoms—”
“Too much information!” But it wasn’t, really. That happened more than twenty years earlier, and Faith could picture that teenage kid, so eager to be a man. It was an important piece of the Zander puzzle. “And then you left for the army two years later?”
“Yeah. Crazy to think about how much I grew up in those few short years.”
“When did you first go overseas?”
He shook his head. “This is the wrong direction for this conversation to go.”
“But I want to know!”
“And I want to watch you get yourself off, then tuck you into bed so you can sleep well and wake up early and get more writing done.”
“I’m editing now. I don’t do that before dawn. Not a morning person, remember? I only get up that early for words because I need total quiet.”
“I’ll remember that.” He winked at her. “Okay, then I’ll just have to make up a bedtime story…”
— NINETEEN —
“I’M not tired.”
“Tough. It’s a school night.”
“But Mom! I’m five now!”
Nineteen hours into his next year of life and Eric had decided to sprout an attitude. It was a good thing she thought he was cute. “You will be an absolute bear in the morning if your head isn’t on your pillow in ten minutes. And when you are a bear, I will point out that you had a choice to get enough rest and chose not to take it. Understand?”
“No.”
“Of course not. Come on, upstairs.”
She’d just pushed herself up off the couch, where she’d been playing Plants vs. Zombies and pretending she wasn’t antsy about not having heard from Zander since the night before. And the last two nights, when they’d talked, he’d been…brief. Cryptic, even. And no video chat.
She was doing her best not to imagine why.
The ability to ask why and get a dozen evil, doomsday answers was a writer’s secret weapon—and a new girlfriend’s certain undoing.
As Eric whined again about putting away his Minecraft reference book, the one that he couldn’t even read yet, they heard a knock at the door.
Knock. Knock-knock.
Her heart leapt into her throat. She knew that sound. Knew the fist that made that kind of forceful alert of presence. That fist—and the beautiful man to whom it belonged—was supposed to be in Alberta.
She flew to the front door, but so did Eric, and the little bugger was faster than her. She laughed as he slid in front of her and put his hand on the door knob first. “I’ve got it.”
Stepping back, she let him open the door for Zander.
God, he looked good. In person was so much different than on video chat. A billion times better, and yet already her heart ached because she knew he couldn’t be here for very long, so she greedily soaked up every detail. The stretched-out, faded black t-shirt that used to have lettering but now just looked good. The jeans. The boots. The leather jacket slung over his shoulder.
So focused she was on gobbling him up with her eyes that she almost forgot she was wearing rolled up sweat pants and a sports bra underneath an oversized tank top that said “Hakuna Masquata: It Means Nice Booty”.
Almost.
With a squeak, she stepped behind Eric, who wasn’t big enough to hide anything.
And it didn’t matter, because Zander gave them both a massive grin and swept them into his arms.
“Happy birthday, bud,” he said roughly.
“Can I stay up late because it’s my birthday?” Eric asked, earning himself a growl from her.
Zander laughed. “Seriously, dude? Don’t get me in trouble.”
“That’s a no?”
“Is it a school night?”
Eric wriggled out of Zander’s arms and jumped onto the staircase. “Maybe.”
“Go brush your teeth,” Faith said, then twisted to look at Zander’s profile. He was right there. So close she could kiss his cheek if Eric wasn’t paying attention. She turned her head back to her son. “Zander will read you a bedtime story.”
Like a shot, her kid disappeared, and Zander squeezed her close to his side. “Surprise.”
“No kidding. What are you doing here?”
“It’s Eric’s birthday.” Just like that. Like, of course he’d be here.
Of course he’d be here. Her heart grew another size with the reminder.
Upstairs, the door between her mother’s apartment and the landing opened. “Faith, did I hear—Oh, hello, Zander.”
Faith hadn’t told her mother that they’d had a fight. She hadn’t told her that they’d made up, either. She’d been falling down on the sharing side of things, but she could scarcely believe she had Zander, let alone understand the details of how.
“Miriam,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. He still hadn’t let Faith go. This was well beyond a welcome back hug. He was just holding her now, and it felt wonderful.
“Is this another whirlwind visit?” her mom asked. God, the small talk. Faith couldn’t handle it, not when she wanted to hit a pause time button and climb him like a tree. Although she did want to know the answer to that question.
She patted Zander’s hand. He didn’t take the hint and let her go. “I should go and check on Eric,” she muttered.
“I’m fine!” her son yelled from upstairs.
“PJs!” she yelled back.
Zander kept talking to her mother like the yelling hadn’t happened. “Yes, I’ve got a three day leave pass before I head up to the Arctic for two weeks. I wish I’d been able to get here before bedtime.”
That was out the window, and Faith wasn’t complaining.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, nuzzling closer. Upstairs, her mother followed Eric into his room and starting helping him with his pyjamas. Faith took advantage of the moment of privacy and flung her arms around his neck. “You’re really here.”
“I am.” He grinned.
She returned the smile, suddenly giddy. “I love you, Zander. And I love that you’re here.”
When Eric came to get them, they were still embracing, and he slid between their bodies, getting in on the hug. Zander kissed Faith’s brow, then she stepped away, watching as he flipped Eric upside down and carried him back to bed by his ankles.
Her son beamed the entire way.
Zander ended up reading both bedtime stories, and he didn’t come to her room until Eric had passed out cold.
“Sorry I kept him up late, I meant to get here earlier, but my flight was delayed…”
She waved hi
m off. “You’re just in charge of getting him up in the morning. I recommend pancakes.”
“Deal.” He settled on her bed, watching her get ready for bed. She’d traded her ratty sweats for the silky scraps of nothing she’d bought just for him, and her skin started to warm under his appreciative stare. She picked up her hair brush and pulled out her ponytail. “Can I do that for you?”
She joined him on the bed, feet dangling over the edge, and he carefully brushed her hair. Each long stroke tugged gently on her scalp, and on the third pass, she groaned in pleasure. Behind her, he shifted, and when her hair hung loose and shiny around her shoulders, he gathered it together and twisted it to the side.
His hands pressed against her skin. Warm, a little rough, and ever so caring. He rubbed his thumbs down her back, between her shoulder blades, then squeezed her shoulders and rubbed up her neck. Again and again he repeated the massage until she was boneless. Then he tugged her back against him and just held her.
It was blissfully domestic.
“Seventy-two hours, eh?” she whispered.
“This time.”
“Every time, it seems.” She didn’t mean it to sound like that, with that edge of snark that was really fuelled by fear.
But it did, and Zander didn’t miss it. “So?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you said it. Let’s talk about it.”
She sighed. This wasn’t how she wanted to spend even a second of his limited time. “I’m just being silly.”
“Then be silly out loud.”
“Um….” She took a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re this guy?”
“What guy?”
“Domesticated and tethered to one place.”
“Ahhh.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure where you got the idea that I’m filled with burning wanderlust. That’s not all that I am.”
“For now? Anymore? Because when I met you—no, stop giving me that look.” Her back was to him, but she could picture the look he must be giving her. He chuckled, telling her she was right. “I’m not picking a fight, I’m just…it’s hard to wrap my head around the idea that this—“ She gestured around her bedroom, but meaning her entire house and town “—could ever be enough for you.”
