The Marine's Holiday Harbor

by Kirsten Lynn

  I feel the curve of her smile against my skin along with the warmth of her breath. “You better start watching your language if you’re going to live with Ella.”

  I chuckle and she lifts her head, but stays plastered to me. “I’ll keep fuck for the bedroom.”

  Her gaze wanders the room. “We’re in the kitchen.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep fuck for when I’m actively fucking you or in the aftermath, no matter what room.”

  “And we’ll have to remember skivvies after in case the kids need us.”

  “We can do that.”

  “Not quite how I pictured our first months of marriage.”

  Cupping her face, I bring her gaze to mine. “Not what I’ve pictured either.”

  “But they’re good kids.”

  “Very.”

  “And they’re cute.”

  I chuckle. “Very.”

  “We could probably talk Mom and Dad into babysitting for a week, so we can go away this spring.”

  “Angel, I’ve been away forever. Let’s get Rose and Frank to watch the kids for a few days this summer, and stay right here in bed.”

  “I like that idea.”

  Gripping her hips, I stand and start walking into the living room. “For now, we have less than twenty-four hours before we’re cockblocked again. No more talking, planning, or worrying. We still have rooms to conquer.”

  She nuzzles her nose against my neck. “Agreed.”

  “And no skivvies, all clothing is banned.”

  “Agreed.”

  Sinking onto the couch, she straddles my lap. Her smile is bright and her eyes have sparks of gold through the greens, blues, and browns. “And you will call me sir and worship me.”

  “Agr—” She pushes at my chest. “Hell no!” Her body shakes with her laughter and I shrug, unable to hide my smile.

  “Worth a shot.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Brynn

  A deep moan escapes between my teeth when I stretch. If there was any doubt Caleb’s return was real, those were thoroughly pounded out of me and further erased by the marks from neck to inner thighs. Tugging down my sweater, I check the mirror one more time to make sure the marks are hidden and walk down the stairs to the living room. The source of my sore muscles and absolute euphoria is tugging up his turtleneck to cover one of the marks I left on him. Oh yes, I gave as good as I got.

  He turns and gives me a “let’s do it again” smile, and I shake my head. “We’ve got incoming, Marine.”

  His shoulders rise and fall. “Worth a try. Why are you acting nervous?”

  I inhale a deep breath. “Does the house smell like sex?”

  His chuckle draws me to him. “No. You’ve sanitized the place to death and lit every scented candle. It smells like lemon cleanser and apples and cinnamon. There’s no scent like we did what we did all night and this morning.”

  Resting a hand on his chest, I give a gentle push. “Come one, don’t tease, this is my first sex fest with the kids coming back the next day.”

  “That’s a relief, since I would have missed any other sex fest with the kids returning after. Seriously, I’m sure Mark and Liz had sex. Yes, I think the table needed a scrub-down after I had you for breakfast on it, but the house is good to go. Just don’t act weird about it and the kids won’t give it a thought.”

  “You’re way too relaxed about this whole instant family dynamic. It’s kind of pissing me off and at the same time turns me on like crazy.”

  “Let’s focus on the part that revs you up.”

  I wink. “I focused on that part many times over the last hours. That part should be well satisfied.”

  He leans forward and brushes his lips over mine, a smile making the kiss sweeter. “Never.”

  When he angles to bury his head in the crook of my shoulder, I step back. “No way. It took me hours to find a sweater to cover the marks you already gave me. No more.”

  He steps back and lifts his hands. “Roger that. Since we can’t touch and the house is stage four sanitized, fill me in on the plan for the day.”

  I slide past him and point out the window to the snow-covered ground. “Snowpeople. Last year we did very little for Christmas, so I want Michael and Ella to have the best Christmas we can give them starting today. I’d love to go crazy with all the cheesy and warmhearted traditions we missed.”

  “I’m onboard for snowpeople. Then what?”

  Warming up to my subject since he didn’t give me the raised eyebrow of that belongs in a Christmas movie, I continue. “Then I have some supplies for Christmas crafts I’ve been hoarding since September. I thought we could all make our own ornament.”

  He steps closer, but he doesn’t look at me. He searches past the island to the harbor. “Not sure how crafty I am, but I’ve been known to patch a few things together.”

  “Ornaments, not ordnance.”

  He laughs. “Roger that, Angel. Sounds like you’ve got the day worked out, just let me know my place in the lineup.”

  “Oh, and then next weekend is Christmas by the Sea, we have to go to that.”

  “Nothing rings in the holiday season like Santa in a lobster boat, agreed.”

  I take his hand. “Absolutely.”

  His stare returns to the window and beyond to Penobscot Bay. It hits me square in the heart. He’s searching for Brian’s boat bringing the children home. “They’ll be here soon. Brian said before lunch.”

  He ignores my statement. “You have an idea what Ella wants?”

  “Ice skates and ‘medicine’.”

  “Medicine?”

  “A ruck like mine. That’s what she calls it, simply medicine.”

  His smile is tender and he nods. “Cute, I like that. Those from us, Santa, grandparents?”

  I slip my arms around his waist. “The first aid kit, and other things, are from us. Brian asked to get the skates. He wants to get them both hockey skates.”

  His eyebrow lifts. “Roger. The hug?”

  “’Cause you ask the sweetest questions.”

  “Then I got another: how about Michael? He give you any clue other than socks?”

  “He gave you clues. Pick a sport.”

  “Good point. But I’d like to get him something he’s good at or doesn’t have to work for right away. If Brian’s getting him skates, I’m not sure we want to load him down with sports equipment.”

  “True, but I was thinking you could get him lacrosse equipment. He so wants to be like you.”

  “Let’s give it some thought. Feel him out. I’m not sure I want him focusing on being like me.”

  “Caleb?”

  He rests his hands on my shoulders. “No, I’m not putting my choices down. I just grew up in a house where being like your father was supposed to be the goal. I want Michael and Ella to be who they are instead of replicas of us. If she’s interested in medicine and he wants to try lacrosse, by all means, I will back them up a thousand percent. But I don’t want them to fear coming to us and telling us it’s not for them.”

  He earns another hug. “Absolutely. I agree one thousand and ten percent with everything you said. We can watch next weekend, see if he gives any hints as we look or if he says something.”

  “Roger that. We can take them to see Santa.”

  “We’ll give Santa a shot. We might have to settle for a view from Bay View and sending letters.”

  “Santa’s not on their list?”

  I roll my eyes but chuckle at the gag-worthy pun. “One year, Liz wrote Ella threw a fit to rival all fits when they tried to get a picture with her and Santa, and Michael just stood there shaking his head no. I know they’re older, but I’m not into forcing a child to visit Santa.”

  “I forgot about that. And definitely, St. Nick is nixed if there’s the slightest lip quiver.”

  I step away from him and shake my head. “What’s with the lame puns?”

  His shoulders rise and fall and he gives me a smile made to put someone on the naughty list. �
��Don’t know. Woke up happy this morning and the day is getting better by the second. I mean you promised I get to make an ornament and everything.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  His response is a wink. The sound of a boat engine sends him back to the window. “They’re almost here, Brynn.”

  His voice is full of the same excitement and love Ella’s and Michael’s hold when he steps into a room. I push the emotion down refusing to cry at how happy I am in this moment, and force voice to be natural. “Come on help me with lunch.”

  Caleb

  Brynn leans over Ella to offer an assist with the little girl’s ornament, which is an improvised glitter bomb. We’ll be finding glitter in August, but I have to admit it’s been the perfect start to the holidays, at least in my humble opinion. I continue to watch as Brynn helps Ella shape the ornament into a cat.

  I turn my gaze to Michael, using popsicle sticks to create a Christmas tree-shaped ornament. Unlike his sister, his space is structure central. Every color he needs lined up next to any glitter or pom-pom he plans to use. His focus is zeroed in on the project and I’d bet his hot chocolate is now iced chocolate.

  It was the same with the snowpeople. Ella started with no plan and created along the way and came up with a snowcat…with help from Brynn. I’m thinking the snowcat and ornament cat are also hints she wants a kitten, but she’ll have to be satisfied with skates and medicine.

  Michael almost analyzed every flake before bringing to life the image in his mind of a snowman. He preferred to work alone without input from his aunt or me. Both snow creations are perfect, although I’m a little biased.

  I study Brynn, again, and the endless crafting supplies like the boxes of hats, mittens, and scarves she’d been collecting for snowmen. She knows what to say to each child and can spot when a naptime is needed from twenty klicks. If I told anyone she’d only been a mother for a year they’d call me a wicked liar. She’s everything a mother should be.

  She glances up from Ella and catches my stare. Her gaze cuts to the wreath ornament I’m trying to fumble through and back to my eyes. “You okay?”

  “Outstanding.” I lift the pipe cleaner wreath. “Better than this.”

  Her mouth curves in a smile at my attempt at a bow. “Looks great.” She examines each project. “They all look fantastic.”

  Michael sits on his knees and stretches across the table to scrutinize my work. “Yeah, Dad…” His face turns a bright red and his voice drops to a choked whisper. “I mean Uncle Caleb. It looks good.” He avoids eye contact and sinks back on his chair.

  The floor opens under me and I’m tumbling in a storm a hundred times stronger than the one I fought days ago. All I can do is keep a firm hold on the rudder and focus on the boy across from me who needs reassurance.

  “Hey, Michael, bud, look at me.”

  When he lifts his head and pushes up his glasses on his nose I inhale another deep breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Thanks for the encouragement about my ornament.”

  His throat works as he swallows hard. “Okay, and you’re welcome.”

  Still avoiding any eye contact with Brynn, I turn the circle of green pipe cleaner between my fingers. “Sure could use some help though, would you mind?”

  He slides off his chair and starts walking around the table. “Yeah, sure. If you really need it.”

  “I really do.”

  Climbing onto the bench next to me, he takes the spot where Brynn was and turns to her. “Do you mind if I move your stuff, Aunt Brynn?”

  I finally glance at her and her smile is so bright there’s no need for the beacon next to the house. “Not at all.”

  After moving Brynn’s intricate god’s eye yarn ornament and supplies, he scoots right next to me. “Okay, now this is how a bow is made. We should use ribbon, not pipe cleaner.”

  My smile collides with Brynn’s. Michael taps my arm with his finger. “See, this is how it’s done.”

  “Aunt Brynn, my cat needs a tail.”

  We both turn our attentions back to the children. The day I arrived, I struggled picturing my life with a family. Now, I can’t in a million years picture my life without Brynn, or Michael and Ella.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Brynn

  Caleb backs the boat into one of the few available slips for the second time in as many days. Most personal boats have to be out of the harbor in October, but thankfully I was able to work it out with the city and harbor department. Having the old lobster boat of a respected lobsterman, my grandfather, didn’t hurt when pleading my case. Every time I’m on the boat I feel his gentle strength and miss his wisdom. He would have approved of this family. I can almost sense it here on the boat. He would loathe the accident that brought us all here, but he would like Caleb and me together. He always had. My grandfather would also approve of attending as much of Christmas by the Sea as possible. It was his favorite time of year.

  Yesterday, we bundled up and took our place along the street for the Christmas Parade, then enjoyed a horse and carriage ride. We wrapped up the night with the Christmas tree lighting and carols at the harbor park. By the time we got back to the house, we were all popsicles, but smiling popsicles.

  Michael and Ella lumber up the ladder from the cabin. “Are we here?”

  Caleb chuckles at their heavy eyes and lack of enthusiasm. “Affirmative. Better get jolly, Christmas by the Sea is an all hands evolution.”

  Michael frowns. “What?”

  “Your uncle is trying to be funny.”

  “Oh.”

  Ella simply shakes her head. Caleb shrugs and steps off the boat onto the pier turning and helping the rest of us off.

  On the dock, I take Ella’s hand, and Caleb hold’s Michael’s. “Like yesterday, stay close and keep hold of our hands.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The children harmonize, and I smile when Caleb’s voice joins theirs. Before the mad dash from event to event starts, I take a minute to admire the town of Camden decked out in holiday style as we walk. Wreaths on the doors and LED candles in the window hail back to its history, as do the pineapples adorning some as a traditional welcome. Christmas trees twinkle from windows and more wreaths hang from streetlights. A childlike excitement builds with each step.

  “Dad texted—they’ll be in or near the Owl and Turtle bookstore.”

  He shares a conspiratorial look with me. “Lead on.”

  After a few blocks on Bay View, and weaving through the waves of people enjoying an early start like we are, I wave to my parents standing in front of the bookstore. They meet us halfway.

  “So, we meet again.” My dad chuckles.

  “Brynn had us up and squared away at O dark thirty. We’re ready to get this holiday started.”

  Mom laughs and shakes her head. “It sounds like you need coffee.” She drops her gaze to the children. “And Michael and Ella need to pick a book.”

  Both children are instantly awake. Michael’s drops Caleb’s hand. “Really?”

  “Really.” Mom winks.

  Books are all it takes to turn loyalties and Caleb and I are dropped for grandparents. Dad nods to the bookstore. “Why don’t you both grab a coffee or something at the café?”

  I slip my hand in Caleb’s. “Sounds like we’ve been dismissed.”

  He squeezes my hand. “Thoroughly.”

  We part ways with Mom and Dad once we step through the door. After we get our coffee, we settle into seats, grateful for the hot drink and warm atmosphere. “Frank and Rose get the children books every year still?”

  I lower the mug I’d just been raising to my mouth. “Sure do. They’ll get one today and then Mom and Dad will pick out a couple more for Christmas presents.”

  “That’s an outstanding tradition. Michael and Ella are lucky to have Rose and Frank. Hell, they’re lucky to have Brian, too, not that I’d ever want it to get back to him that I said so.”

  “They’re lucky to be a part of your family, too. Audrey is amazing, taking them aside
and reading to them with hot chocolate by the fire every Christmas evening.”

  “Yeah, Mom is great, but my father—”

  I wish I could ease his mind by defending Hal even a little, but he grills Michael about what activities he should be participating in and ignores Ella, so I can’t find a defense, and after the last holiday I’m more likely to condemn.

  “Michael has you now as an example.

  His laugh is derisive. “Yeah.”

  His eyes turn glacial, and I angle my head to see what he’s staring at outside. As if conjured by his name, Hal is walking past the store. A much younger woman walks next to him trying to catch his hand.

  “His new paralegal, I take it?”

  I shift in my chair, so I’m facing him again. “Yes. Alice.”

  “What a piece of—”

  “Caleb, not today. No more talk about him, please.”

  He scrubs a hand over his face and then downs the rest of his coffee. “Absolutely, you’re right.”

  I grasp for a topic to restore his good mood. “So, what are you asking Santa for?”

  “You saying ‘I do’ January 1st.” His answer was so quick and direct, I almost spit out my coffee and swallow hard to get it down. His mouth turns in a teasing smile. “You okay, Angel?”

  “Yes, I—”

  “Uncle Caleb.” The familiar call of the four-year-old fills the space between the children and us.

  I smile. “Our time is up.”

  He winks. “Our time is just beginning.”

  There’s no time to respond. Michael beats Ella to Caleb and me. His eyes are bright as he takes a book from a bag. “Look what Nana and Gramps got me. It’s called Dog Tags, about a Marine and his dog.”

  Caleb picks up the book. “Hey, that sounds like a great story.”

  Michael turns to me. “Can I read it to you, Aunt Brynn?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll start tonight.” Surprising me, he climbs on my lap.

  Ella pushes her way to Caleb and hands him her book. “The Rabbit Listened. This looks like an excellent choice, too.”

  She points to the cover where a child is hugging a rabbit. “Bunny.”