Marine Under the Mistletoe (Always a Marine)

by Long, Heather

  “I was letting him know he has options, and Rowan is sweet.”

  “Stop playing matchmaker.”

  His parents’ whispered argument playfully batted his relationship status—or lack thereof—back and forth, but Kaiden stopped listening. Rowan was single. Useful intelligence, he supposed. She glanced up and their gazes collided. The corner of her mouth curved. She held his attention for a heartbeat then slid her gaze to his parents. It wasn’t until she rolled her eyes and mimed talking with her right hand that he realized she knew exactly what his mother had said.

  A snort of laughter worked through him and he picked up his coffee to cover the laughter. Her unrepentant grin amused the hell out of him and he directed his attention back to his food. By the time breakfast broke up, he volunteered to do dishes, but everyone refused.

  Tim, Aaron, John, and his dad headed off to build the bonfire for the circle while his mother took charge of the boys. When the other women kicked him out of the kitchen, Kaiden headed for the porch. He didn’t mind helping, but everyone wanted him to rest.

  Friendly, caring, and kind—they wanted to take care of him. The thoughtful gesture shouldn’t irritate him so much, but it did.

  “Hmm, who pissed in your Wheaties?” Rowan’s warm voice poured over his impatience. He twisted and found her sitting on the railing of the porch, one leg hanging down. Dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and running shoes—she was an advertisement for relaxation. The mild breeze played with her curls and he wanted to run his fingers through the wild mass.

  “No one. I had pancakes.” He played dumb on purpose, and she crossed her eyes at him again. Leaning on the post opposite her, he raised his brows. “Did they dismiss you from helping, too?”

  “Oh yes.” Amusement twinkled in her eyes. “I’ve been subtly informed that you are single and like redheads. And your mother suggested I take you on a tour.”

  Kaiden dropped his chin to his chest. “Ugh.” He wasn’t sure whether he should laugh or be angry. An odd emotion—one he refused to dissect—settled in his chest.

  “Easiest way to deal with it is to pretend their plan worked and not argue with them.” Rowan tapped her foot on the railing. “Though I took you on a tour to the lake last night, I could walk you out through the woods today, if you want.”

  “I ran the trail this morning,” he admitted with a flicker of disappointment.

  “I saw.” Her playful smile widened a fraction.

  “Oh?” He hadn’t seen her.

  She pointed up. “My room faces this way. I’m always up early and I saw you head out at a dead run.”

  Kaiden shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “At all?” A frown replaced her smile.

  “Wrong time zone. You want to go for a walk?” It was nice enough outside. The temperature hovered in the upper fifties with enough chill to remind him of autumn, but not enough to let winter bite into them.

  “We don’t have to. They really won’t notice if we ignore their matchmaking.” Her willingness to let him off the hook earned a slice of his respect and, for that, he’d give her some honesty.

  “I wanted to have breakfast for you, but the three rugrats from yesterday already had your attention.” He tapped her shoe. “So, familial interference aside, come take a walk with me.”

  “Okay.” She slid off the railing and circled him to head down the steps, but he caught up to her and took her hand.

  Where the hell did that come from? He tried not to examine his actions too closely, particularly considering the level of confusion Rowan generated in him. When she didn’t pull away, he settled his pace to keep time with hers and watched the trail ahead. He’d noticed a couple of uneven places where the rain had washed out part of the path.

  Fifteen minutes into the woods, the hush of nature fluttered over him. Only the soft sound of Rowan’s breathing and the crunch of leaves under their shoes accompanied them. She’d been quiet since they set out, a direct contrast to her behavior the night before.

  “I’m giving you your space,” she told him as if reading his mind.

  “I don’t know how much space I need. I’m the one holding onto you.” He gave her a squeeze to remind her of the fact.

  “You’ve also been scowling at the trail since we started walking.” The observation surprised him and he stopped walking.

  “I have?”

  “Fiercely, as though you were awaiting an ambush.” She pulled free from his grasp and paced over to pick up a stray stick on the trail and tossed it into the woods.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d been scowling.” He ran a hand over his face. Disheartened by her physical retreat, he couldn’t say he blamed her.

  “You don’t have to apologize.” She did a hop-skip step over to another stick and it followed the first one she’d tossed. “I imagine coming home takes some adjustment.”

  “I almost didn’t come,” he admitted.

  “No?” He had her full attention again. “Your mother would have been so disappointed.”

  “I know. It’s why I did show up. And I have no idea why the hell I’m telling you this.” What was it about this woman?

  “Maybe I’m a good listener.” She spread her arms. “Or maybe I’m cute and non-threatening.”

  “Maybe. What do you do for a living?” He wanted the focus off him, he knew that much.

  “I’m in IT support and, yes, it’s absolutely as boring as it sounds.” She started walking again, pausing here and there to clean up the trail. He paced her and mirrored her actions. “I work downtown and there are five of us to handle about seven hundred people who work for the company. We do everything from software installs, to hardware upgrades, to loser error troubleshooting.”

  “Loser error?”

  Her face went red. “User error?”

  A grin stretched his mouth and made his cheeks ache. “I know what it meant, just surprised me that you used the term.”

  “Well, I don’t do it to their face, but seriously—if you know how many times a day I’ve had to answer what the ‘any’ key is or make sure they actually have their plugs in the right holes—” If possible, her face reddened further, and Kaiden laughed.

  “I get it.” The humor rattled through him, dislodging one of the rocks on his heart. “Sounds frustrating.”

  “It is, but I love the look on someone’s face when you retrieve a file they thought they’d lost forever, or the light bulb that goes on when you make something work after they’ve struggled with it.” She gave a careless little shrug. “I’m good with computers and I like working with them, so it’s a good fit.”

  They walked in companionable silence and it took him a few dozen steps to realize she hadn’t turned the question back on him. “You can ask me stuff, too.” His willingness surprised him; his desire to share surprised him more.

  “I don’t want to bring up bad memories, not when you seem to be hugging them so closely.” The woods gave way to a clearing and she pointed to the center. “Come on, I’ll show you my second favorite part of winter retreat.”

  Following her wasn’t a hardship. Not when she actually skipped across the clearing and tumbled—purposefully—to sprawl in the center. She rolled onto her back and pointed up at the sky. “Look.”

  Pausing next to her, he glanced in the direction she indicated. Rowan smacked his calf and he glanced at her again. “What?”

  “You have to lie down to really see.” Apparently, he’d missed the important part of the exercise. Dropping on the ground next to her, he stared up at the blue sky, the rich azure made deeper by a decoration of puffy white clouds.

  Rowan exhaled a long, deep sigh. “In summer, you lay like this and you can get bugs on you, but, now, it’s too chilly for most of the insects, yet warm enough we’re not freezing.”

  “Or you could bring a blanket out and lie on that.” But he couldn’t fault the view—though he found Rowan a great deal more appealing than the sky. Stealing a sideways peek at her, he found her g
ray-green eyes studying him.

  “When was the last time you simply stopped and stared up at the sky? I saw your face last night, when we made it to the lake.”

  He’d come to expect her directness, and appreciated it.

  “Not a lot of time for stargazing in the sandbox. I don’t spend a lot of time looking back on anything, too busy keeping my eye out for the dangers in front and around.” The admissions jogged loose another stone from the pressure on his heart.

  “You’re not there anymore,” she said softly. “You’re here. You have time—now.”

  A simple truth, but he shook his head anyway. “It’s not that easy.”

  “No, I didn’t say it was easy.” Folding her hands together on her stomach, she returned her attention upward again. “I can work eighteen hours a day and never go outside and see the sun. I can be so caught up in debugging a glitch or trying to get a software program to work, I forget to let go of the problems. After a while, I have a permanent crick in my neck and constant tension in my shoulders. My wrists will hurt—and my ass is so numb I forget life isn’t supposed to be about a to-do list, or a job, or the current problem of the moment—life is about the blue sky, the grass underfoot, and a friend at your side. It’s about other people and no people. It’s about living—not existing.”

  “So why don’t you quit?” He rolled onto his side, no longer bothering to pretend he had more interest in the view overhead than the woman sprawled next to him.

  Her eyebrows climbed. “Why don’t you?”

  “Marines don’t quit.”

  “They also don’t leave men behind,” she murmured.

  “No, ma’am. They don’t.” The rocks on his chest compressed.

  She didn’t turn away from him, holding his gaze long enough he could see the sadness and concern creep into her eyes. “So why did you leave yourself over there?”

  Shock rippled up his spine, and his mind locked. “What?”

  “You’re still there, Kaiden.” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his posture, and cupped his cheek with a cool palm. “Something bad happened to you—or maybe a lot of something bads. I don’t know. You can tell me to butt out. I won’t be offended.”

  “Are you psychic?” He rejected the question even as he asked it, since it didn’t take a psychic to read his body language. The wariness he’d seen in the eyes of his friends and family—the seemingly unsurpassable gulf surrounding him lent more credence to her words than anything else.

  “I’ve been accused of being psychotic before.” Light teasing sprinkled the statement, and she grinned.

  Another rusty laugh broke loose. She began to withdraw, but he captured her wrist and kept her palm to his cheek. It was soft, softer than anything he’d felt in a long time. “I’m pretty messed up.”

  “Okay.” Acceptance, no questions.

  “You’re not asking me why.” He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the concept.

  “I think questions might harm you, and I don’t need you to tell me anything. But I will listen if you want to.” The salve of her kindness soothed the abrasions in his soul. “I’m going to hug you, okay?”

  “Why?” Not that he minded.

  She smiled and scooted closer, wrapping her arms around him. “So you’ll lie down and gaze at the sky and know you’re here, and not there. You’re not alone.”

  The lean softness of her fit him perfectly and he settled onto his back, curving an arm around her to tuck her in closer. She nestled her head on his shoulder.

  “Breathe,” she whispered, and he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “And just be.”

  The scent of cherry blossoms teased him, and he had to wonder if it was her shampoo or a perfume. Grass cushioned him, the woods surrounded him, the sun warmed his face, and the muscles in his back relaxed. Rowan massaged her palm against his chest in slow, easy circles. Bit by bit, his arms shuddered with the release of tension.

  “Are you really single?” he asked, one-hundred-percent sure what he wanted for her answer.

  “Yes, I’m really single.” She chuckled and the vibration teased him. “I’m not dating anyone, either. But you need to concentrate on relaxing, not on me.”

  The answer satisfied him—for now. “Don’t go away,” he told her.

  “I won’t.” And she didn’t. He had no idea how long he lay there, but eventually his eyes closed. Breathing exercises, not so long-forgotten that he couldn’t manage them, helped to steady his heartbeat. Sleep stole over him, and he let it, aware of her head resting on his shoulder and the warmth of her cuddled to his side.

  ***

  Wakefulness snapped his eyes open and Kaiden tensed. He’d slept, but not more than a few minutes. Rowan maintained her promised warmth and she pillowed against him. The sun’s height hadn’t changed much, so he hadn’t been asleep for long.

  “Your heart is racing again.” She continued rubbing her palm over his chest in slow, lazy circles.

  “Forgot where I was for a moment.” He pressed a hand to hers, stopping her motion. “I need to get up.”

  “Okay.” But the moment she rolled free of him, he missed her nearness.

  Sitting, he raked his fingers over his close-cropped hair and exhaled. The violent need to drag her closer again shook his muscles. Too possessive—too soon. He needed to put some distance between the two of them before he spoiled her sensuously beautiful soul.

  “Rowan, you’re a nice woman, but this isn’t going to work.” Standing, he offered to help her rise, but she ignored his offer.

  “Exactly what do you think isn’t going to work?” Her cool gaze met his without flinching.

  “The soft touch approach, the hugging and the kissing. I’m not really good for anyone, least of all a sweetheart like you. So—” He didn’t really have anywhere else to go with the statement. Retreating a step, he waited for her to head toward the house.

  “All right. See you later.” She settled back and gazed at the sky again. The sun glinted off the streaks of red in her spill of hair. The splash of color on the yellowed grass gave it the kiss of autumn rather than winter.

  He frowned, because leaving her alone in the middle of the woods didn’t even earn a blip on his radar. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “We’re on private land, Kaiden.” She’d closed her eyes. “And I am quite capable of walking myself back.”

  His frown became a scowl. “You want me to leave you here?”

  Rising on her elbows, Rowan squinted at him. “Um, grumpy, you were the one having the pissy fit. So you can go or stay.”

  Pissy fit? Mouth snapping shut, he paced away three steps and stopped. “I am not having some kind of tantrum.”

  “Could have fooled me.” Amusement drifted in her voice.

  “I merely said I’m not good for anyone.”

  “I heard you.” But she remained exactly where he’d left her, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. The sun climbed higher and lit her gorgeously. “I’m not stopping you from going.”

  No. She wasn’t. So why the hell did he continue to stand there? A headache began to pulse behind his eyes. “What do you want from me, Rowan?”

  “Nothing.” The simplest of answers and not the one he’d expected to hear. “Did you want me to want something?”

  “What?” He massaged his temple and paced back toward her until his shadow blanketed her and she stopped squinting.

  “I asked if you wanted me to want something from you.” She didn’t make any attempt to rise, but he could feel the weight of her gaze as though it were truly taking his measure. He would definitely fall short on even the most reasonable of scales.

  “You shouldn’t want anything from me.” No one should. He wouldn’t be good for any of them. “I’m not good people.”

  “You realize that begs the question of why, don’t you?” She moistened her lips and edged up into a sitting posture. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, and never took her attenti
on off him.

  “I don’t know if I can explain it.” He didn’t regret the choices in his life—or at least he had never regretted them. What he felt currently seemed too hard to vocalize. “I enlisted because I believe in service. I liked the tenets of the Marines and the structure. I also liked my recruiter. He’s a good man—was a good man.”

  Her sharp gaze narrowed a fraction. She’d noticed his slip.

  “I still like the structure, my brothers, my unit. I can’t imagine doing anything else—I serve with good people. The best people.” His increased respiration made the last three words fire out like bullets and restlessness invaded him. Adrenaline pumped through his system and he could probably run the whole circumference of the lake if he put his mind to it.

  “Who are you trying to convince, Kaiden?”

  “You don’t understand.” He really couldn’t explain it, and hated that he couldn’t. “Dammit.”

  “Who are you angry with?” Her expression filled with a quiet, almost serene curiosity and unflagging kindness. He deserved neither.

  “I shouldn’t have come.” He’d known it from the moment he boarded the flight for the states. When he’d landed at DFW, he could have called friends—he had plenty in the area. Any one of those guys would have come to the airport and picked him up, no questions asked.

  “But you did come here—you came for Yule, and that means something to you.” Her argument echoed the one playing out in his soul.

  “Rowan, I’ll ruin it for everyone. Mom was near tears twice this morning, just staring at me. I know what she wants from me—what my Dad wants—what everyone wants.”

  “Really? You don’t seem to know what I want. In fact, the only person you can be certain about is yourself. And you’re afraid of not living up to some mythical expectation that you’ve created.” She let go of her knees and climbed to her feet. Combing her fingers through her hair, she tucked the errant curls behind her ears. “I think you’re looking for a fight. I’m sorry, Kaiden, I’m not going to argue with you. If you want to go back to the house—go. If you want to leave before Circle, then that’s okay, too. No one should be here who doesn’t want to be, you know this.”