by Kaylea Cross
Christ, he was totally gone over her. And he needed to make sure no one ever found out.
Mason followed behind them slowly, lighting their way. “That’s Tate’s place there,” Tala said, pointing to the right.
He glanced over. Tate had told him the two-story log home had originally been a cabin back when the town had been home to a booming timber industry. It had since been renovated and expanded to include a deep wrap-around porch.
The windows along the front glowed with warm light in the growing darkness, a Christmas tree full of multi-colored lights filling one. A column of smoke curled from the stone chimney in the sloped roof, promising a real wood fire.
Braxton couldn’t wait to unwind in front of it later with a whiskey and catch up with everyone. It had been a long few days of travel getting here from overseas and he was looking forward to unwinding. Hopefully with Tala, though being alone with her was a double-edged sword that brought both pleasure and pain.
“Curt’s right next door,” Tala said, continuing past Tate’s driveway to the next house, a two-story wood craftsman-style with a front porch lit by a single strand of white lights.
Mason pulled into Tate’s driveway. Braxton followed Tala up to the gate, inhaling her sweet scent as it carried back to him on the light wind. He made himself stand back while she opened it, the whole time imagining backing her up against it and kissing her until she was weak and clinging to him.
“Just set him down inside.”
Braxton did, holding onto the animal until it got its feet under it. Reggie gave a little bleat and wobbled precariously. He looked okay until Tala closed the gate and the metal latch caught with a clang.
Watching over the top of the fence, Braxton shook his head as Reggie once again jerked and fell over. “Damn, that’s gotta suck,” he said, trying not to laugh.
Tala chuckled. “Reggie’s quite the character. So’s his owner.”
No sooner had she said it than the front door opened and a man stepped out, his bearded face and long, gray ponytail lit by the porch light. “Who’s there?” he growled.
“It’s Tala, Curt. Tate’s sister. Reggie got out somehow. We just put him back in the yard.”
The man’s scowl disappeared. “Oh, thanks so much. How the hell did he get out this time?”
“I don’t know, but the Santa hat is a riot.”
Curt grinned. “You should see the antlers I got him. But I had to take the bells off them. He kept fainting every time he moved,” he said with a chuckle, then lifted his chin at Braxton. “This your man?”
Tala’s pretty eyes shot to Braxton. “No, he’s—”
“I’m Braxton. I’m a friend of Tate’s,” he said. Though, hell yeah, if circumstances had been different, he would have given anything to be Tala’s man.
“I’m Curt.” He eyed Braxton’s jacket. “You a vet?”
“Still active duty.”
He gave Braxton an approving nod. “Marine?”
“No. Canadian Forces.”
“Oh, another Canuck. Well, welcome to Rifle Creek, northern neighbor. Tala, tell your brother to come by tomorrow for that holiday drink I promised him.”
“Will do. You still seeing Mrs. Engleman, by the way?”
One side of his mouth turned up. “Maybe.”
“Good for you. Have a good night.” She turned to Braxton as Curt went in and shut the door. “See? A character. And just wait until you meet Mason and Avery’s neighbors.”
“Can’t wait,” he murmured, bemused. Rifle Creek might be quiet, but was the furthest thing from boring so far.
“Come on, Nina’s probably got dinner waiting.”
They walked side by side back up the road to Tate’s place, the cozy-looking log house situated near the front of a large lot surrounded by a mix of trees. He itched to be able to wrap his arm around Tala or at least hold her hand. He liked just being close to her. Liked that it was only the two of them, and that she felt comfortable enough in his presence not to fill the silence with chatter.
Tala was comfortable in her own skin. She knew who she was, knew what she stood for, and what she wanted. Those were the things he found sexiest about her, though it was a long list. There was no one like her. And if he wasn’t so fucked-up inside and unsure what his future held, he might have had a chance with her.
I want someone who will put me first, she’d told him once, and it had stuck hard. He wasn’t in the position to offer her that, and didn’t know if he ever could due to his career.
Then there was the additional factor that none of his previous relationships had ever worked out. As in, ever. Every single time he’d gotten involved in one, the woman had ended it, frustrated that he couldn’t or wouldn’t give them what they needed.
They’d told him he was emotionally closed-off, that he didn’t know how to open up or let them in, and then, of course, he was gone for up to a year at a time because of his job. He’d never been good at showing emotion, and his training had made it worse. The hell of it was, while being able to disconnect from his emotions was what made him good at his job, it also made him a walking disaster in a romantic relationship.
The simple truth was, he wasn’t equipped to make one work. And the last thing he wanted was to risk losing Tala because of it. So he was forced to worship her from afar. Including her body. And he definitely shouldn’t have imagined her naked, or getting her underneath him or the look on her face when he made her come.
Oblivious of his thoughts, Tala led him around the side of the log house and through the door off the porch. As soon as he stepped inside, Braxton drew in a breath and groaned. “Smells great, whatever that is.”
“It’ll taste great, too. Nina’s our little domestic and cosmic goddess of sunshine.”
He hung his jacket on a hook on the wall beside hers and followed her through the mudroom toward the voices beyond the entryway. The whole place felt homey and cozy, welcoming. As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, a recently remodeled and upgraded space that suited the rustic style of the house, he spotted Tate standing at the counter.
“Hey, you finally made it,” Tate said, grinning as he came forward to hug him. “How’s Reggie?”
“Hopefully vertical again by now,” he answered, clapping a hand on Tate’s back.
Tate stepped away and reached for the pretty Latina woman standing at the granite-topped island. “This is Nina. Nina, Braxton.”
“Hi. So glad to meet you in person finally,” the curvy brunette gushed, and before Braxton could even open his mouth to reply, he found himself engulfed in a floral-scented hug.
He returned it a bit awkwardly, meeting Tate’s amused gaze. “Hi. Congratulations on your engagement.”
Nina beamed up at him. “Thank you. It was so romantic, the way he asked me.” She leaned into Tate, looking up at him adoringly.
Braxton raised an eyebrow at Tate, who was smirking. Romantic, eh? That was something he wouldn’t associate with Tate, but she would know better than him.
“And this is my Avery,” Mason said, pulling a tall, striking strawberry-blonde toward him.
Avery made a scoffing sound. “I can introduce myself,” she told Mason wryly, then turned to Braxton with a polite smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.” She held out a hand, her gaze direct, no-nonsense.
“You as well,” he answered, biting back a grin as he shook with her. Mason needed a firm hand. Looked like he’d found exactly that in Avery.
Nina clapped her hands and hugged them to her chest, her face all but glowing with happiness. “Everything’s ready. Who’s hungry?” She’d set the entire meal out on the island, buffet-style. “Everyone help themselves. Guests first,” she said, handing Braxton a plate with a smile.
He murmured a thanks and moved to the first platter, a mixed salad with fruit and cheese and nuts. Six other dishes were laid out beside it. Meat, pasta, several kinds of vegetables, potatoes, bread. “Wow,” he said.
Tala hummed in agreement as she stepped up besid
e him with her plate. Just that fast, awareness tingled across his skin and in his gut. Her cheeks were still pink from the cold. He drank in the sweep of her dark lashes, the light smattering of freckles across her nose, her lustrous, deep brown hair falling past her shoulders.
He wanted to kiss each one, then dip down to explore that sexy mouth. Wanted to lift her up, turn and pin her to the closest wall so he could settle his hips against her core and drink in all the sounds she made as he gave her pressure and friction exactly where she needed it.
If she were his, he would show her exactly how beautiful and sexy she was by worshiping every inch of her body until she was crying out his name and clenching around his fingers and tongue as he made her come. Then he would ease his cock into her slick heat and ride her slow and steady until she exploded again, claiming her completely.
“This is what Nina does,” she said, jerking him out of his wayward thoughts. “She always goes all out with food.” Rylee was next in line beside her, followed by Mason and Avery.
At movement near ground level, Braxton glanced down to find Ric sitting at his feet, staring up at him with intelligent eyes, one brown, one blue.
“He’s looking for the weakest link in the treat train,” Mason said, a bottle of root beer in one hand as he grabbed some cutlery for himself and Avery from down the island. He’d stopped drinking during his recovery from the injuries he’d sustained in the crash, realizing he was in a downward spiral with booze. Braxton admired him for recognizing it and taking action. “Don’t be the weak link, Brax.”
Braxton blinked down at Ric, torn. He looked so hopeful, and he was so cute and fluffy. Just one bite, those eyes seemed to plead. One little taste, I won’t tell. It’ll be our secret.
“Just ignore him,” Tala advised with a soft laugh that sent heat curling through him. “And you’d better fill your plate up, or Nina will fill it for you.”
He tore his gaze away from Ric, cleared his head of all sexual thoughts of Tala, and dutifully began scooping portions of everything onto his plate. Nina had set the table in the dining room, so Braxton carried his plate there, waited to be told where to sit, and pulled out Tala’s chair for her since she was seated next to him.
She smiled her thanks and scooted in toward the table, giving him a little sidelong glance that had him curling his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
It took everything in him not to lean over and kiss that tempting mouth right here in front of everyone. She had him all tangled up inside even though he knew damn well nothing good could come of crossing that line.
The sudden flare of impatience at not being able to act on his impulse caught him off guard. It was totally unlike him. His control was legendary within his unit. He was known for being calm, level-headed, cool under pressure.
Tala made him feel exactly the opposite, and those little hints of interest from her made it worse. Just by being close to her, she stoked the secret fire burning inside him until it raged right below the surface.
God. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. But he couldn’t have her. Not if he didn’t want to lose her, and possibly Tate too, along with their business Braxton had signed on for with him and Mason.
The conversation flowed easily around the table while they ate, even as the incessant hunger hummed through him. Mostly it was Nina and Mason carrying the conversation while the others piped in occasionally, and Braxton mostly observed, way too caught up in his head because of the woman next to him.
He consciously relaxed his muscles. Being here felt so strange, a kind of culture shock, but in a good way. This was a different world from the FOB in northern Syria he’d been living in for the last few weeks, sleeping only in short snatches and eating field rations. Facing enemy rocket fire every night, and far worse every time they went outside the wire.
Here it was safe. Peaceful, and everyone under this roof was connected by bonds of family and upcoming marriages—except for him. Sitting around this table now made him acutely aware of his status as an outsider, that he’d been included in this cozy circle as a kind of honorary member. But he wasn’t one of them. Not really.
The cold, hard truth was, he was alone. Even his family wanted nothing to do with him.
He pushed the thought aside and kept eating, too focused on Tala beside him, and the continual tide of hunger she created inside him. The flashes of interest he’d seen from her tonight and on their recent video calls made this even harder.
He was way too attached to her as it was, stemming back to the day she’d been wounded. Expert as he was at masking his feelings, he had to work twice as hard to hide his feelings for her. He’d managed it this long. He could make it another week without cracking.
“So, Braxton,” Nina said, turning the conversation to him with a smile from down the table. “What did you do for Christmas?”
He swallowed the food in his mouth, his hand tightening around his fork a bit as six pairs of eyes settled on him expectantly. He hated being the center of attention, and this topic was one he’d rather avoid. “I was on base at Dwyer Hill. They put on a turkey dinner there with all the trimmings.”
“Oh.” Nina glanced at Tate uncertainly, then back at Braxton. “So you… No family holiday then?”
“No.” He was aware of Tala shooting him a compassionate look, and hoped the hell she didn’t feel sorry for him.
Braxton forced a small smile at Nina. She didn’t know she’d hit a sore spot. Or that he’d swallowed his pride and tried the whole family Christmas thing again last year, flying home to Vancouver to show up to his mother’s place Christmas afternoon. It had gone exactly as well as he’d expected.
When he’d arrived she’d already been drunk to the point of unconsciousness, lying on the couch while some romantic movie played in the background, a sea of bottles and food containers around her. His brother had been long gone, off with the latest woman he’d moved in with to support his drinking habit, even though he’d known Braxton was coming—having just returning from a fucking war.
He shrugged. “We’re not close, so…”
“Oh. Sorry.” She set down her fork and grabbed the closest dish—pasta. “Here, have some more. There’s plenty,” she told him with a gentle smile, an unspoken apology in her eyes.
Braxton took it, returning the smile. Nina had a soft, kind heart. No wonder Tate had fallen for her so hard and fast despite his gruff edge.
“And some of this,” Tala said, reaching for the scalloped potatoes in the center of the table. “I know they’re your favorite.”
Speaking of kind hearts… Tala’s was both strong and soft. She was a force of nature, could be intimidating, endearing, and downright adorable by turns. The thought of never being able to make her his set off a searing ache inside him.
“So when do you think you might be up for taking me shooting?” Tala asked him.
The question threw him for a second. “Whenever you want, as long as it works with whatever meetings the guys have set up.” He glanced at Tate and Mason, part of him hoping they would say it wouldn’t work out.
Mason shook his head. Tate waved his hand in dismissal. “We’ll make it work. She’s been desperate to ask you.”
Desperate? He shifted his gaze to her.
“No, I haven’t,” Tala said, but her cheeks flushed and she wouldn’t look at him.
Why was she embarrassed? He’d love to take her shooting, which was why he’d downplayed his reaction when she’d first asked him earlier. Spending time alone with her would be a form of torture, but he’d withstand any amount of pain to be with her.
“I’m in,” he told her, gratified when she met his gaze again. She had the most gorgeous eyes, a soft, velvety brown with golden flecks.
“Okay,” she said, a smile stretching those full lips that he’d imagined kissing and doing other X-rated things to more times than he could count.
He banished those thoughts, but they refused to stop tormenting him. “What time?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll set something up.”
“Sounds good.” He just hoped his legendary self-control wouldn’t fail him when they were alone together.
Chapter Three
It was late by the time Avery and Mason brought him back to their place after dinner, a big, brick Victorian closer to the “downtown” area. Having grown up in the busy and increasingly crowded Lower Mainland south of Vancouver, Braxton found that term amusing when used to describe Rifle Creek’s little business and shopping district.
“I know how you love your privacy, so we’re putting you in the downstairs suite instead of upstairs with us,” Mason told him, leading the way down a set of stairs from the kitchen.
The suite had Mason’s stamp all over it, with his blade and weapons collection mounted on the living room wall. “This is where you lived when you first moved in, huh?” He missed Tala already, and he’d only left her ten minutes ago.
“Yep. Just set your stuff in your room and then let’s head back up so we can talk business for a while.”
Braxton had been hoping to avoid this conversation until tomorrow after he’d had a solid night’s sleep, but Mason was clearly impatient to start now. “Sure.”
He’d just set his bag on the foot of the queen-size bed when the doorbell rang upstairs. “Let me guess, it’s the neighborhood watch,” Mason muttered from the doorway, then reversed direction and motioned for Braxton to follow.
They took the stairs back to the kitchen. “Yup,” Mason confirmed when he turned the corner and saw whoever it was through the long sidelights on either side of the front door.
Braxton stood back a little as Mason pulled it open to reveal two elderly women standing there with identical gray hairdos. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite sister neighbors,” he said.
The woman in front beamed at him. “Mason, hi. We saw you pull in and wanted to come straight over with a little something we made for you and your guest.” Her gaze cut directly to Braxton, the avid interest there impossible to miss as she thrust a basket at him. The other woman peered shyly over her sister’s shoulder, her blue eyes magnified behind the thick lenses of her glasses.