Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“You know I will.” He said it softly but surely, as if he knew all the other things I’d been tempted to say.
“But you’ll be able to get back to work now that the holiday rush is done.” If Zeb could put a brave face on things, so could I. “You can pull as many all-nighters gaming as you’d like. And you’ll sleep better without me hogging three-quarters of the bed.”
“Ha.” He laughed, but the resulting smile barely made it past his full lower lip. “Yeah, back to real life. I just wish…”
“Me too.” We reached for each other at the exact same moment, holding hands near the gear shift. We drove on in silence, all our unsaid wishes and hopes riding along, making each breath feel that much weightier and more significant.
As we exited the highway near the base, traffic thinned further. We stopped for a red light, and Zeb inhaled sharply before turning toward me.
“If you’re serious about coming back—”
“Shush.” I stole his go-to move and placed a finger on his lips. “No promises. I can’t ask for that.”
“But I can offer.” He gave me a crooked little smile before kissing my finger.
“But you shouldn’t.” I made my voice chief-level stern and somehow managed not to weep as the light turned green and he drove on. As we approached the checkpoint at the base gate, time seemed to further speed up, every second another one closer to goodbye.
I readied my ID and ensured Zeb was ready for the guard’s questions and possible car search. Someone had evidently briefed the gate crew on my arrival because the guard who took my ID and checked over the vehicle nodded at a young recruit standing near a government-issue Jeep. The kid was probably fresh out of basic training and clearly not accustomed to either waiting or the cold as he kept stamping his feet.
“Heard there’s a bird on the way for you.” The gate guard motioned the younger guy forward. “Johnson here will take you to your chopper.”
“Guess this is goodbye,” Zeb said softly.
“Yeah.” I made no move to open the door handle.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do something stupid like cry or kiss you in front of your fellow naval personnel.” Zeb laughed, but I didn’t.
Since when did I give a flying flock of reindeer about what these guys thought? I wasn’t scared of coming out or being with Zeb publicly. I should be so lucky.
“Maybe I like stupid.” I leaned in for a fast, hard kiss.
“Thanks.” Zeb licked his lower lip as I pulled away. “Stay safe. I know you can’t promise that, but…be careful?”
“Always.” I kissed him one more time before breaking away and opening the door. His eyes were wide and sad, and I couldn’t look more than a second or two. “Okay. Gotta go.” My voice came out all gruff. “Drive safe on your way back. Thanks for the ride.”
As I walked toward the waiting Jeep, I mentally kicked myself. Thanks for the ride. Out of all the things I’d wanted to say, that had to be among the dumbest. Zeb was so much more than another buddy dropping me off on base.
He was my everything. I glanced back over my shoulder, intending to meet his gaze, tell him with my eyes what I’d failed to articulate, but he had already turned the SUV around and was driving away.
I watched his taillights for a long second.
“Chopper waiting,” Johnson reminded me.
“I’m ready,” I lied. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been less ready to go wheels up. Was every future mission going to hurt this badly? God, I hoped not, but I had a sinking feeling my life had been divided irrevocably into before and after Zeb.
Twenty-Seven
ZEB
BOXING DAY: DECEMBER 26TH
I didn’t open Atlas’s present on Christmas night. Didn’t go hunting through his duffel bag, didn’t do anything other than crawl into my now too-big bed, hugging the pillow that still smelled like him, and willing sleep to claim me so I could stop worrying about him and what he might be facing in the line of duty.
And missing him.
Needing him.
I spent most of Boxing Day working the annual Seasons sale on autopilot. Half-off. Everything must go. Year-end clearance. Funny how it felt like my heart was the thing on the markdown table, battered and worn and unlikely to be needed again anytime soon. I didn’t hold my breath on anyone swooping in to claim it either.
Not that I’d want anyone other than Atlas.
In the late afternoon, after the initial rush of bargain hunters was over, Belinda Maurice appeared with a handwritten thank-you note and a small box of homemade fudge.
“I wanted to thank you all for the food box and help for the kids.”
“No problem.” I smiled my first smile all day because she didn’t deserve my bleak mood, and the memory of working with Nix and Atlas was still warm and wonderful. Funny the difference forty-eight hours could make. “It was fun to pull together, and you’ve got some great kids.”