It felt good to know he had a positive influence on her. He scooped up the omelet and said, “Come on, let’s eat. It’s our first breakfast together here …”
*
Callie felt as if a final, huge load had lifted from her shoulders as she and Beau scouted a small hill with plenty of pine trees to choose from. The sky was a deep winter blue, holding a slight breeze, the sun shining brightly above them. They’d left shortly after lunch, and Callie had never felt happier. Beau had grabbed her gloved left hand, helping her slog up the hill toward their future Christmas tree in nearly knee-deep snow. She was careful with her right arm, still very protective of it. And she noticed how Beau’s arm went around her waist as they made it to the top, breathing hard. She longed for physical closeness to him.
“How about that one?” Callie asked, pointing to a blue spruce that was about five feet tall.
Beau held a hand saw and squinted, his dark glasses protecting his eyes from the glare across the snow. “Looks good to me. Want it?” He turned, meeting her smile. Callie looked winsome, as if she were as whole and happy as he’d known her to be before the ambush. Today, her cheeks were flushed pink, light was dancing in her green eyes, and there was a smile on those soft lips he wanted so desperately to kiss. Her hair was free and loose, glinting red, gold, and burgundy in the overhead sunlight, a red knit cap on her head.
“Yes, that’s the one,” she said, moving awkwardly through the snow.
Beau had longer legs and made it over to the tree first. He placed his arm beneath her left elbow, helping her move closer to inspect it.
“It’s really perfect,” she murmured. Beau had worn a dark green baseball cap and a green knit muffler she’d given him to keep his ears and neck warm. He looked strong, confident, and masculine in his leather jacket and jeans. She could not get over how different he looked without his beard and long hair. The change was amazing. Wonderful. Enticing.
Every time he held her gaze, she drowned in his dove-gray eyes, which were clearly filled with yearning—for her. She’d been afraid she would never feel any strong emotion again since returning home, but now Callie felt the coals of hunger burn brightly in her belly. Last night, her last thought before falling into a deep, healing sleep was that she wished Beau were tucking her up against his tall, strong body, holding her in sleep. Holding her safe.
“Okay, this is the one,” he drawled, and got down on his hands and knees, pulling the snow away from the trunk.
Callie watched him quickly saw the tree trunk. It fell into the snow, glittering, tiny flakes flying into the air, dancing like diamonds in the sunlight. The day felt magical, filled with hope. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Beau. He seemed lighter, happier. Why wouldn’t he be—no one was shooting at him, and they weren’t being hunted, either. Still, it was a delightful discovery to see him suddenly turn boyish, smiling and laughing easily with her. No one would ever have guessed he was a deadly Delta Force operator.
He pulled the tree down the hill and Callie followed. Never had she felt so light since the ambush. Her heart turned in gratitude to Beau for telling her that she wasn’t a disappointment to him. She still felt bad, however, because even now, he limped because of the bullet wound he’d sustained in his calf. That was a direct result of her decision to run and not remain hidden.
Callie didn’t know how Beau could still like her despite the life-and-death choices she’d made for both of them out on the slope of that mountain. Just one look into his eyes, however, told her he loved her. And yet, he’d not touched her. He didn’t need to in order to lift her out of the darkness that had ruled over her since the ambush—all it took was a look, a word.
After he put their chosen spruce tree in the back of the Ford truck and closed the tailgate on it, she came over to him. He turned toward her, breathing hard, his cheeks slightly ruddy from the work it took to haul that tree to the truck. Callie was scared, but she followed her heart and slowly lifted both her arms, settling them around his broad set of shoulders. They were alone, out in a series of hills, the pastures to the south.
“Beau?” she whispered, holding his suddenly intense gaze as she moved against him, her breasts against his chest, her hips against his, “I want to kiss you … ,” and she leaned up on her tiptoes, closing her eyes, feeling his mouth claim hers. The world anchored to a halt for Callie as Beau swept his arms around her slender body, holding her tightly to him. She could sense his awareness of her broken right arm, and he was careful not to reinjure her. Still, his mouth took hers with a hunger that robbed her of her breath for a moment. The blinding emotion behind his lips claiming hers made her moan with pleasure as she pressed her breasts wantonly against his jacket. Heat flamed to life between her legs, and she felt a deep ache below as his mouth opened hers even more. He was like a hunter who had found his quarry, his mouth seeking, finding, taking, and giving to hers. Their breaths were sporadic, moist, and warm against one another’s faces as she tightened her grip around his neck, never wanting that searching kiss of his to end.
Beau lifted his hand, threading his fingers through her hair, angling her just enough to allow his tongue to touch hers, to get her reaction, feel her tense and then hear her response deep in her throat. The moment her tongue tangled with his, he nearly lost it. He was starved for the taste and the feel of this woman! She was warm, willing, and just as hungry as him. And if he didn’t stop right, now Beau was going to take her right here, in the snow.
But that wasn’t what he wanted for their first time since that ambush. He wanted her in a place that was warm, intimate, and private—a place where he could slowly introduce her to his deepest self in every possible way. He wanted to love this woman until she swooned from pleasure only he could give her.
Reluctantly, Beau eased his mouth from hers, staring into her barely open eyes, seeing the green fire and gold flecks in them. He felt her loosen her hands around his neck, felt her gloved fingers trail down his arms. Releasing her, Beau captured her shoulders, staring down at her. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like that for a long, long time, Callie’.” His voice rumbled with arousal, thick with hunger.
She sighed, closing her eyes, whispering, “Don’t ever stop kissing me like that, Beau. My knees …” She opened her eyes and laughed a little, embarrassed. “My knees feel weak!”
Pride moved through him. Beau desperately wanted to love her so thoroughly she would never want to consider another man in her life. “Well,” he growled, sliding his arm around her waist, guiding her toward the passenger side of the truck, “I can’t have you falling down, can I?”
“No,” she said, smiling warmly up at him. “You can’t. Tonight we trim the family Christmas tree. I’m so happy you’re here, Beau,” she added, her voice bubbling with joy.
He opened the door for her, helping her climb in. Callie still cradled that right arm and continued to be protective of it. “I’m looking forward to it, too,” he told her.
On the way back, Beau drove slowly because the gravel road was heavy with ice and snow. “Tell me about your family Christmas tree trimming party.”
She smiled, taking off her gloves. “I always volunteered to make the long strings of popcorn to hang around the tree. When Dara was here, she got the job of putting bulbs on the tree along with Mom and Grandma.”
“And your granddad? What does he do?”
“Oh, he’s so tall he can easily string the lights around the top of the tree,” she said.
“Sounds a lot like what our family does,” he confided, smiling over at her. She had taken off her red knit cap, her hair loose, giving her a wild, natural look. There was no more tension in her face, and Beau was grateful. He’d had just one kiss. One. And he wanted so many more with her.
“You said your brothers, Coy and Jackson, were home now on Christmas leave?”
“Yeah. My pa will go out with them and they’ll find the right tree. Ma makes peanut brittle while we’re gone. It’s a nice dessert to come home to.”
“Sounds really yummy,” Callie agreed. “What then?”
“Well, we trim the tree. Ma kept all our little-kid efforts from grade school. You know how you always had classes around Christmas where you made things to hang or wrap around the tree?”
“Yep,” she laughed, “I do. My mother has all our attempts in special boxes. She doesn’t hang them, but she said they’re there for each of us. We’ll get our box when we get married. She told us when we have children, we can then show them how to make their own ornaments for the trees we’ll be trimming as a family.” She sighed. “Dara and I always dreamed of getting married and having families.”
“You sound sad.”
“Dara’s twenty-nine and I’m twenty-seven. We’re getting up there as far as getting pregnant. I sure wouldn’t want to be pregnant at forty.”
His mouth twitched. “I think Matt is going to ask Dara to marry him on Christmas Day.”
“No!” Callie gasped, turning toward him, her eyes huge. “Seriously, Beau? Is that what he told you?”
“Yep.” Beau’s smile grew. “He knows it’s too soon, but he’s going to give Dara a set of rings that belonged to his Turkish grandmother. He was a favorite of hers, and she asked that the rings be given to Matt after she passed.”
“That’s so wonderful,” Callie whispered. “Dara deserves that kind of happiness.”
Beau held her teary gaze. “So do you, gal.” And if he had anything to say or do about it, he was going to get this stubborn redheaded wench of his to marry him.
Callie sat back, frowning. “I thought I knew what I wanted out of life, Beau. I was very happy being a volunteer for the Hope Charity.”
“But you’re changing your mind?” Beau was beginning to see the array of changes that the ambush had made in Callie.
He drove the pickup into the main parking area of the ranch and then around the homestead. The cabin sat about five hundred feet away from it.
“I’m changing,” she admitted, her brows moving down as she studied her hands, which were clasped in her lap. “I’m not sure about much of anything right now, to be honest. I feel like I’m making a major transition, and I’m in it and can’t see where I’m going.”
“It’s too soon to sort this all out, gal,” he reassured her as he parked the truck and turned off the engine. He opened his seat belt and placed his arm behind her slumped shoulders. Callie was cycling down again. He was damned glad he could pick up those subtle changes in her. “You had a life-changing experience, Callie. And it takes time to figure out how it’s going to affect how you see yourself and your world.” He moved his hands lightly down her unruly red hair, its silken strands always drawing him close so he could touch it.
“And you know this how?”
He drew in a deep breath and said, “The first time I got shot, it shattered me in ways I couldn’t possibly imagine, Callie. I almost bled to death out in the field because it hit a pretty major artery even though it was classified as a flesh wound. Some major arteries are real close to the skin. Luckily, we had a great medic and he saved my life. I thought”—he looked down at her—“I was invincible. I never really thought about dying, even though I was in one of the most dangerous fields in the military. It just hadn’t crossed my mind.”
He saw her eyes lighten a little. Beau was beginning to understand that he needed to share from his own experience in order for Callie to open up to him. “I lay in a hospital bed recovering and having a lot of time on my hands to think about the what-ifs. Suddenly, life became a lot more precious to me. I began appreciating little things, things we take for granted every day. I became closer to my parents and my two younger brothers. Everything I loved in my life became more dear to me.”
“That’s what is happening to me, Beau. Exactly.”
He gave her a sad smile. “Yes, the symptoms of healing are the same. You nearly die or think you’re going to die, and your world order gets shaken up. You begin to question the career that got you into this fix in the first place. I’d only been in Delta Force for a year when I got wounded. I talked to Matt about it. He’s very wise, and he told me to take it slow and not make any sudden, knee-jerk decisions. He even suggested I make a couple of lists. One list was what was important to me. And the other was things I used to think were important to me but weren’t anymore. He said to throw out the last list and only keep what was important to me from now on.”
“And now that you’ve been wounded a second time?”
“It’s making me review everything again, gal.” He grazed her cheek with his fingertips. “And you’re going through the same lists I am. We need to compare our lists when we feel it’s right.”
CHAPTER 19
Christmas music played in the background as the McKinley family went about trimming their ten-foot-tall Colorado blue spruce in one corner of the ranch living room. With the high ceilings, Beau thought the Christmas tree went well with the floor-to-ceiling fieldstone fireplace now roaring with flames, warming the entire first floor of the huge cedar-log home.
Stacy and Connor McKinley were bringing out boxes of ornaments from the attic. Beau, because he was tall like Graham McKinley, had been assigned the job of placing the lights on the tree. He kept an eye on Callie, who was sitting at the granite island stringing long lines of popcorn for a final touch. Everyone was feeling warm and happy, just as a family should.
Maisy was in charge of the mulled red wine simmering with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves along with thick, fresh slices of oranges floating on top. There was also dark, rich hot chocolate for those who didn’t want to imbibe alcohol. Maisy had also made Christmas cookies earlier, hand-decorated each one, and put them on a huge green platter on the granite island next to the drinks.
Beau was impressed with how strong the spirit of Christmas ran in this family. But he couldn’t deny that all this activity made him homesick. He knew his family would be trimming their tree any day now, and let’s face it—he hadn’t been home for the holidays in three years.
Well, maybe he’d make it next year. Still, being able to share this season with Callie made up for everything. Since their kiss on his arrival, she had become less anxious and nervous, and Beau wished he could find out what was going on inside that gorgeous head of hers. Slowly, she was allowing him entrance into her deeper thoughts, and that was good for both of them.
As he and Graham slowly worked the lights around the tree, Beau decided to talk quietly with Callie’ grandfather. “Sir? Has Callie always kept her feelings inside her?”
Graham, who wore jeans and a dark green, long-sleeved shirt with a black leather vest, nodded. “Yes, she’s pretty much an ‘inny.’” When he saw Beau’s confused expression, he said, “Callie’s an extrovert, for sure, but when it comes to her emotions, she hides them from everyone. She’s always been that way, from the day she was born.”
Grimacing, Beau made sure their voices couldn’t be heard by anyone else as they slowly walked a string of lights around the middle of the tree branches. “How do I get them out of her?”
Chuckling, Graham said, “That’s the big question, son. The only thing her parents found worked was to keep asking her a lot of questions.”
“Why does she hide herself like that?”
“I don’t know. Dara isn’t like that at all.” Graham looked across the massive room. “I think Callie takes after her father, Connor. He’s pretty introverted by nature and stopped up emotionally, too.”
Grunting, Beau nodded. “In some ways, she reminds me of an operator.”
“Yes, hide everything and keep on moving,” Graham agreed. He leaned down and brought up the next string, plugging it into the last one. “You making any headway with her since going over to the cabin?”
“Some,” Beau said. “But it’s a slow process.”
“Callie’s stubborn on all fronts. Not that she can help it. It’s just the way she is. Being like that can give you a lot of enduring strength, but when you hit a brick wall like she has, it confus
es her, and she doesn’t know what to do with all those emotions charging up through her. So she sits on ’em.”
Beau couldn’t disagree. “I see a difference if I get her outdoors and doing something.”
“Yes, as a little girl growing up here, she was an outdoors type. Dara, less so. But Callie had so much energy to burn off, she was always helping me or the wranglers with our normal daily duties.” Graham and he had moved behind the tree and the large window, out of view of the rest of the family. He halted and turned to Beau. “Keep getting her outside and working. Clean stalls. Go for horseback rides. I can take both of you with me when we load the hay on the tractor-trailer to go feed the cattle. She’ll do better when she’s got a physical outlet. And it looks like her arm is doing better.”
“It’s still tender and she can’t use it for much, but yes, it’s better,” Beau told him.
“We’re going to have good weather for the next five days, so be thinking of ways to get Callie out of that cabin and into the fresh air.”
Nodding, Beau said, “I will, sir. Thank you.”
*
Callie smiled as Beau wandered over and stood at her left shoulder, watching her stringing the popcorn. “Got the lights strung on the tree?”
“Yep. Your granddad is an ace at it. He made it easy.”
“He’s only got fifty years of doing it,” she said, smiling.
“Want some mulled wine? Smells good,” Beau said, lifting his nose. Callie had chosen a gold sweater that had glittering silver threads gleaming through it, which brought out the beauty of her face and her sea-green eyes. She’d worn jeans and calf-high black leather boots. Beau had a tough time keeping his hands off her.
“That sounds good,” Callie murmured. She watched Beau move with that casual grace of his. The fit of his blue chambray shirt and jeans made her yearn for him, and she remembered how he looked without clothing—even better than with them, and that was saying a lot!
Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) Page 25