by Elena Aitken
“Way better. Now come here and show me the rest of the ways you’re superior to my battery-powered buddy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Foil crackled and a few moments later, he crawled over her, settling into the cradle of her hips. Needing to touch him, she wrapped her hand around his length, stroking from base to tip and back before aligning him with her entrance. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he pressed slowly forward, sinking into her, stretching and filling, inch by slow inch. They both groaned as he found his way fully home.
“Hannah.”
He lowered to kiss her, deep and gentle, and lacing his fingers with hers, began to move. She held his gaze as the pleasure built. With every stroke, the walls he’d put up between them were falling. And then they were both spinning out over the edge in a spectacular free fall.
At length their breathing slowed. Above her, he stirred. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“Rocking my world.”
She couldn’t help it. The giggle burst free. “You rocked mine pretty thoroughly, too.”
“I’d like to rock it again in the very near future, but I think we kinda have to sleep.”
“There’s always the morning. I mean, I don’t know about you, but that seems like a really good start to the day.”
He brushed a kiss over her lips. “I like the way you think.”
Once they’d taken care of the necessities, they crawled back into bed together, his front to her back, and he curled around her. She didn’t bother with the t-shirt, since he was a living furnace. It was pretty damned cozy and perfect. He fell into silence, and she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. She’d get there herself, in a little while. For just a few more minutes, she wanted to bask.
“Can I ask you something?”
She jerked herself back from the edge of dreams. “Sure.”
His hand stroked idly over her hip. “I don’t have any right to even bring this up because I know what I’m asking. But I’m going to ask anyway.”
Rousing herself, she flipped over to face him. This sounded like a Serious Thing. “What?”
He exhaled slowly, resuming the stroking along her hip, a petting she’d come to recognize as a form of self-comfort. “How do you feel about long distance relationships?”
Her smile spread so wide, she wondered if he could see it in the dark. Just in case he couldn’t, she leaned in to kiss him. “Extremely amenable.”
“Really? Because my schedule is insane, and I won’t always be able to say where I am or when I’ll make it home again. I can’t always talk on a regular schedule. I don’t even know when I’ll be able to next get leave and—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Stop trying to talk me out of it. The answer’s still yes.”
Curling a hand around hers, he pressed a kiss to her open palm. “Okay.”
She snuggled in against him, safe and warm and so full of joy and hope for the future she all but glowed with it. “Ryan? There’s just one more thing.”
“What?”
“Merry Christmas Eve.”
Ryan tucked a firm hand under Percy’s elbow as they got out of the SUV.
“For the love of God, I’m not an invalid,” Percy groused.
“You literally just spent two days in the hospital. No arguing about taking a little help.”
With a huff, he shuffled his slow way toward the front porch, muttering about being forced to use a wheelchair at the hospital and how long discharge had taken.
“Yeah, well, that would’ve gone quicker without your entourage, but there is no turning away the Casserole Patrol,” Hannah told him.
“Truer words,” Percy intoned.
“I think Miss Betty’s got a crush on you,” Ryan teased.
Color leapt in the old man’s cheeks, a welcome reprieve from how he’d looked in the hospital lying against the harsh white sheets in the sterile room.
“It’s true,” Hannah put in, shouldering the bag with all the new diabetic testing supplies. “She helped stock your kitchen while you were laid up. Everything’s set for you to transition to your new lifestyle. Her daughter’s diabetic, so she knows all about it.”
Percy cut a glance at Ryan. “Aren’t you gonna be riding my ass about this new diagnosis? Telling me all the stuff I can’t eat anymore, all the new crap I’ve got to do?”
“Nope. I figure you got enough of that at the hospital, and you’ll get more in the future as you sort out how to manage it. But today is Christmas, and I’m just happy you’re still around to celebrate it with us.”
He ducked his head, but not before Ryan caught the gleam of tears. “Wouldn’t be if not for you two. Thank you.”
Hannah scooted up to his other side, slipping her arm through his in a gesture that was as much affection as assistance. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
They reached the top of the steps without incident, and Ryan loosened his grip, satisfied that Percy was moving well enough on his own.
“You should both be with your own families, not fussing over an old cuss like me.”
“I had Christmas with my sister this morning, and we did lunch before Ryan and I left to pick you up.”
He grunted. “I still don’t feel right about keeping you away from your mama, with you being stateside for the holiday. She gets to see you little enough.”
“Yeah, about that,” Ryan muttered.
The front door flew open and a chorus of “Merry Christmas, Percy!” about knocked them backward.
“What the—?” Percy’s eyes went wide as Ryan’s parents and both his brothers spilled out, surrounding them.
“We brought Christmas to you,” he murmured.
His mother, Trisha, wrapped Percy in a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, Uncle Percy.”
“You’re here.” Percy’s voice quavered. “You’re all here on Christmas Day. Why?”
“You refused to come to us and we refused to take no for an answer, you stubborn old coot. We love you. Now come on inside. We’ve got a massive spread and dinner’s just about to come out of the oven.” Not allowing an argument, Trisha ushered him through the door.
At the panicked plea in Percy’s eyes, Ryan lifted his hands in a what-can-I-do? gesture. His mom was taking over now. That was the end of that.
With probably more fanfare than Percy liked and a helluva lot of talking, they finally got him settled in the living room. Duke, released by one of Ryan’s brothers from the crate they’d gotten yesterday, gave a joyful bark and whine, offering up a full-body wag and wriggle, pressing himself against Percy’s legs.
“Hey. Hey there, buddy. I’m happy to see you, too.” He bent low, rubbing and petting the dog, pressing his face into the brown and black fur. “I’m happy to see everybody.”
Ryan met Hannah’s gaze across the room, matching her brilliant smile with one of his own. Filling the house with family to greet Percy when he got home had been her idea, and the moment he’d called his mother to put in the request, Trisha had begun orchestrating the moving of the holiday with all the efficiency of a three-star general. It had absolutely been the right call.
At a few words from Trisha, everybody descended on the kitchen to finish food prep and begin setting the table. Left alone with Percy, Ryan propped a shoulder against the mantle and watched him with the dog.
Hands still buried in Duke’s fur, Percy met his gaze. “Thank you for this. Thank you for everything you’ve done while you were here. I didn’t want any help, didn’t want to admit I needed it.”
“Yeah, I get that. Pot, kettle, and all that. And you’re welcome. It’s been a good little vacation.” With a pang of regret, he straightened. “In less awesome news, I have to head back to Fort Polk tonight to catch a MAC flight back overseas.”
No stranger to the whims of the military, Percy nodded. “What about Hannah? Did you get your head out of your ass? Because that girl is the best thing to ever happen to you.”
An arm slipped
around his waist and a grinning Hannah confirmed, “He did. And yes, I am.”
Who was he to argue with the truth? Ryan pulled her close, wanting to keep her by his side as long as absolutely possible, needing to memorize the imprint of her body pressed against his to carry with him on the long, hard road ahead.
“You’re good?” Percy asked, taking in the embrace.
He pressed a kiss to her brow. “We’re good.”
Nodding in satisfaction, Percy pushed to his feet and socked him in the arm. “I told you you needed a woman.”
“Percy—”
“What’s this about a woman?” Trisha came into the den, a kitchen towel in her hands. As she took in Ryan’s arm around Hannah, she clutched it to her mouth, her eyes going suspiciously shiny. “Oh!”
Busted. “Mom, don’t you dare cry.”
“Oh, shut up. I’m allowed to be happy my son’s happy.”
He braced himself for…well, he didn’t know what. He wouldn’t put it past his mother to have a preacher on speed dial.
Hannah squeezed him and lifted her mouth to his ear. “Don’t worry. I give good Mom.” She stepped toward Trisha, hand outstretched. “In all the crazy, I don’t think we really had the chance to be properly introduced. I’m Hannah Wheeler.”
Trisha squeezed her hand. “Trisha Malone, and I am very, very glad to meet you.” Raising her voice, she hollered, “Mike! Boys! Come meet Ryan’s new girlfriend.”
He opened his mouth to say…something, expecting Hannah to balk. Instead, those dimples winked on and she followed his mom back into the kitchen.
“That,” Percy observed, “is one helluva woman.”
“Yes. Yes she is.” He wished, more than anything, that they had more time. That he hadn’t wasted any with his head up his ass. But even that wouldn’t have been enough. And now he had to share his last hours with Hannah with the rest of his family, who he’d shortchanged on this trip stateside. It seemed there was never enough time. Robbie was proof enough that there was never a guarantee of getting more than the moment you were in. That just made him want to cling to this one, to these last hours with Hannah, with his family, all the more.
When Trisha announced it was nearly time to eat, Ryan helped Percy with the new routine of checking his blood sugar and taking his insulin. Then they joined the others at the dining room table that Hannah had somehow transformed into a wonderland in the past ten minutes. He took a moment to appreciate that, to appreciate her as they took their seats and his mother said grace. As Hannah’s hand snaked over to twine with his beneath the table, he decided there was a helluva lot to be thankful for this holiday season.
Dinner was a raucous affair of food and laughter and shared memories. Hannah, predictably, charmed his entire family. She rolled with all of it, as if she’d been joking with his brothers and teasing his dad for years. Trisha grew more smitten by the minute, already issuing invitations to future family events that he might not even be home for. Before she could start on the guest list for a wedding or name their future dog, he shoved back from the table.
“Sadly, I have to go.”
His family, well-versed in this routine, rose along with him. He already had his bag packed and loaded in Smitty’s truck, so there was nothing left but to say his goodbyes. He accepted back-thumping hugs from his dad and brothers. Percy added a knuckle-cracking squeeze of a handshake. Then his mother shoved a care package of leftovers into his hands. “For when you get hungry on the road.”
Given the weight of the container, she was convinced he’d starve to death on the six-hour drive. But he took the box and gave her a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to see much of you on this trip.”
“Next time.” It was an order.
“Yes ma’am.”
They all drew back to the porch, giving him a little questionable privacy with Hannah. She followed him down to the truck, waiting as he put the leftovers in the cab. When he reached for her, she flowed into his arms with no hesitation.
He didn’t ask again if she was sure. He didn’t try to convince her that he was a bad bet or that she deserved better. He just held on, confident that over the coming months, she’d do the same. That they’d get that chance for more. He was trying her optimism on for once. It wasn’t familiar, but he found it sat on him a lot more comfortably with her pressed against him.
“I’ll be back. I don’t know when, don’t know how, but I’m gonna be back.”
“I know,” she whispered.
He pulled back enough to look into her face, skimming his fingers through that long, silky hair. “And in the meantime, you’re going to do amazing things and kick ass and tell me all about it.” It would have to be enough. For now.
“Speaking of…I heard back about my application to the small business incubator.”
“When?” How had she not told him about this?
“A few days ago.”
Translation: When we were fighting.
Well, nothing to be done about that now. “And?”
She shrugged and offered a sheepish smile. “I got in.”
“That’s fantastic!” He scooped her into a twirling hug. “You’re gonna be awesome.”
“Yeah, I am.” She squeezed him tight. “I’m going to miss you.”
He ached at how long it would be before he saw her again, touched her again. “We’ll talk and write. I’ll call whenever I can.” It was a promise to himself as much as her.
She pulled something out of her coat pocket. “With everything going on, I didn’t get you a Christmas present.”
“You are my Christmas present.”
“Flatterer.” She bumped his shoulder with a grin, but he didn’t miss the extra shine to her eyes. “Anyway, I did get you this, to take back with you.”
He opened the envelope, sliding out the contents. It was a single photograph of the two of them at the dance out at Applewhite Farms, looking at each other rather than the camera. They hovered on the brink of a kiss, standing right below one of the clusters of mistletoe. It immediately took him back to the feel of her in his arms, the warmth in her eyes, and the way the world had faded away to nothing but her in that single, perfect moment.
“Tara took it. She thought we might want copies. I’ve got one, too.”
The thickness in his throat took a moment to swallow. “It’s perfect.” He lifted his gaze to her. “You’re perfect.”
“Perfect for you anyway.”
“Definitely that.” Drawing her in, he kissed her, long and slow. Lingering, to memorize everything about this moment. When his brothers began to hoot from the porch, he shot up one middle finger and didn’t stop what he was doing until he knew he was pushing the envelope with time. Only then did he ease back, pressing his brow to hers. “I have to go.”
“I know. Call me when you get there?”
“It’ll be late.”
“I don’t care. Hearing your voice will be worth a little lost sleep.”
He let her go, reluctance in every move as he climbed into the truck. The engine grumbled to life, and he rolled down the window for one last touch of her hand.
“I’ll be seeing you, Elf Girl.”
The dimples winked on as she squeezed his hand. “I’m counting on it, Sergeant.”
They didn’t say goodbye.
He kissed her knuckles, lifted his hand in a wave to his family, and backed out of the drive. She followed the truck so that the last thing he saw in his rearview mirror was her standing in the middle of the street, her hair whipping in the winter wind, color high in her cheeks as she waved until he was was out of sight.
He was gonna move mountains to get back to that woman.
Epilogue
One Year Later
“Since we can’t get the mini topiaries, we’ll need to come up with some other centerpiece for the table arrangements. With the wedding being in a week, we’re getting short on time.” Whitney Edmonds, the divorcée who’d opened an event planning business down the hall fro
m Hannah several months back, was more than a little rattled. Her usually perfectly coifed blonde hair was piled in a messy bun, chunks escaping at odd intervals, as if she’d started to run her hands through in frustration and caught her fingers. “I don’t know why anybody wants to get married so close to Christmas.”
Relieved at the interruption to her own thoughts, Hannah rose from her desk. “It’ll be fine. Let’s go brainstorm.”
When she’d started at the small business incubator nearly a year before, she’d been overwhelmed at everything involved with opening her own firm. While her Christmas decorating efforts had helped to get the word out about her services, building a sustainable client list that would actually make for a living wage had been harder than she imagined. Not until Whitney had arrived and ended up needing help with her first full wedding did everything click into place. Hannah enjoyed the mix of challenges from more traditional interior design jobs to shorter-term event decor, and she’d gotten a new best friend in the bargain.
With the business growing steadily, she’d finally moved into her own place. She still spent a lot of time with Carolanne, but she didn’t miss her sister’s baker’s hours. And it was nice to have total privacy for her phone calls and video chats with Ryan. They’d kept in touch as well as they could, availing themselves of every possible form of long-distance communication. Since Christmas, she’d managed to see him in Washington, D.C. for thirty-six hours over the summer, but he hadn’t been back in the U.S. since. It wasn’t enough. She missed him like a limb, worried about him during the long stretches he was on mission and incommunicado. But someday—someday he wouldn’t be at the whim of the U.S. government. That day would not be this holiday season. He wasn’t even getting to come home this Christmas.
It would be fine. They’d celebrate whenever he managed to get leave again. Her parents had hit town a couple of hours ago, and she just needed to wrap work for the day before heading over to Carolanne’s for a family dinner. With them staying the next several days for the holiday, there was plenty to focus on right here in Wishful.