Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) (33 page)

He’d seen others reach that same point of no return. And some he’d seen actually deconstruct. Graham wasn’t sure Beau could give her what she needed—maybe no one could—and Beau himself wasn’t sure. He did keep thinking about something Matt Culver had told him: “Let your heart lead you.” So for now, that was going to be his inner voice, leading them both, hopefully, to a better place.

*

Beau was up
cooking breakfast when Callie came out of her bedroom. She had on a pair of sheepskin slippers and wore a long, pink flannel granny gown that fell to her slender ankles. On top of that, she wore a cream-colored chenille robe. He smiled over his shoulder as he saw her emerge from the room. Her hair was mussed, making her look beautiful and wanton to him.

This morning, he was pleased to see no shadows beneath her green eyes. That was a step in the right direction; she had slept long and hard.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he called as she shuffled across the rug in the living room, heading for the kitchen. “Welcome back to the world of the living.” He turned the bacon in the skillet and then poured her a cup of coffee.

“I’m not awake yet, Beau . . . but thank you . . . ,” she murmured, accepting the cup.

“I see you’re not wearing the sling on your arm. How’s it feel?” he asked, returning to the bacon frying in the skillet. She stood there, hip against the counter, both hands around the mug of coffee, sipping it with relish.

“It feels so freeing,” she murmured, turning and looking out the window. Frost was forming on the edges in almost crochetlike patterns. “Looks like the weather has finally passed.”

“Mmm,” he said, draining the grease from the bacon and placing the strips into a nearby bowl. “Are you up for a little adventure this morning?” He wiggled his brows and grinned.

“What kind of adventure?” she asked, hesitant but intrigued.

He saw her wariness. “A fun one,” he assured her. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the living room and the large picture window. “I was thinking we might find a Christmas tree today. I’ll cut it down, make a stand for it, and we can have one here in the cabin, too. What do you think?”

Graham had made a point of saying that he should get Callie outdoors and encourage her to do the daily ranch work. Since she’d come home, she’d pretty much stayed in her room, and he didn’t feel that was good for her. Beau agreed.

“Well?” he prodded.

She smiled. “Yes, I’d love to do that.”

“Now,” he murmured, taking the skillet off the burner and shutting it off, “we’re going to trim your family’s tree tonight over at their homestead.”

“Good. And if we find one today, we could trim our own tree tomorrow evening. Just you and me?”

Nodding, Beau retrieved four fresh eggs and broke them into another bowl. “That sounds good.”

“Just having you here,” she added softly, “gives me hope . . .”

He held on to his emotions. Giving her a glance, he said, “What do you mean by that, Callie?”

Graham had told him that unless someone asked Callie a lot of questions, she would never explain herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—that was normal for her.

“I didn’t want to leave you at Bagram,” she admitted quietly, stealing a glance at him to see his reaction. “I just wanted to leave Afghanistan and that horrible ambush behind. But I didn’t want to leave you, Beau.”

He added some milk, salt, and pepper to the eggs, stirring them briskly with a whisk. “That makes two of us. I wanted so damned badly to escort you home, Callie. I knew how raw you were feeling. I knew the crowds, the jostling, and the noise were going to hammer you.”

“They did,” she sighed. “Dara was in much better shape than I was. And I’m glad. I’m guilt-ridden enough about dragging her through that experience.”

Beau poured the egg mixture into the skillet. He then crumbled up the bacon into it. “You have to let that go, Callie. Dara survived. She’s not angry at you, and she doesn’t blame you for what happened.”

Looking up at him, Callie asked, “How do you know this?”

“Because I talked to Matt by phone when I reached Seattle. I had four hours before my flight and made calls to my family and then to him. I found out Dara is doing very well. And I asked him point-blank if Dara held you responsible for what happened to her.” He held her wavering gaze. “He said no, she didn’t blame you, Callie.” He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. “So it’s time to stop riding that horse, pardner. Okay?” he said firmly, giving her a look that pleaded with her to think about it.

“I asked her about it before we left Afghanistan,” Callie admitted. “But I didn’t believe her. That’s on me.”

“You tend to stew on things,” Beau said gently, watching the omelet cook. “And I’m here to short-circuit that for you, Callie. You can’t keep carrying loads that aren’t yours to carry.”

“You’re right,” she admitted, frowning. “I don’t know why I do it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Beau said, holding her gaze. “What matters is that you recognize what’s happening and then dump it. And if you don’t realize it, I’m here to help you see what you’re doing to yourself. It was hard enough for you to survive that ambush, Callie. That’s enough to carry around in you without adding other people’s lives into the equation, don’t you agree?”

“As you can tell, I’m pretty much an emotional person, and thinking isn’t something I do first. It’s actually the last thing I do.”

“But I like you that way,” he reassured her. Beau knew he couldn’t just tear her down without building her up. He wanted today to be a new day for Callie, and he’d said enough. “Hungry?”

“Everything smells good,” she admitted tentatively.

“Your grandfather says you’ve had the appetite of a sparrow. And I can see you’ve lost more weight, so my first priority is to get you to eat.”

“Yes, and drink. Remember, I don’t hydrate often enough?”

“How true. I don’t think you’ll ever forget that charley horse you got when we were on the run, will you?”

A slight smile tugged at her lips. “No, I won’t. And you’d be proud of me, Beau. Since coming home, I drink a lot more water than I ever did before.”

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.