Page 9 of Wintering with George

“Come into the kitchen with me, okay?”

I nodded and let him lead me across the living room and into the kitchen, where he had me take a seat at the island. Once there, I put my elbow on the marble counter and rested my head on my hand, watching him.

Large handle-tie brown paper bags had been set on the island, and out of the closest one he pulled several cardboard containers. The first whiff made me start salivating, and when he opened it and I saw the enormous burger, I whimpered.

“When did you get this?”

“I ordered it as soon as the EMTs arrived to check on you, and it got here while you were finishing up with the detectives outside.”

I had missed the food delivery completely. “You do love me.”

“Yes,” he rasped, hand on my cheek for a moment before he leaned in and kissed me.

I wanted the kiss, it warmed me down deep, and I’d missed him when I was gone this last time more than I had on the previous deployment. Each time I left, the longing for him got worse. I honestly hadn’t expected that. I had no idea that the longer we were together, the worse the pain when I left would become.

“Okay,” he said, smiling against my mouth as he leaned back. “Eat this revolting burger with enough cheese on it to stop your heart. I got onion rings too, though I do plan to kiss you later.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna kiss me? Like, a lot?”

He grinned. “Or maybe not until tomorrow. I think I’m just going to watch you sleep tonight.”

That had been how we started. With him watching me sleep.

We’d met when I was on the job, being a bodyguard. I worked for the in-house security division of Sutter Incorporated, a real-estate development company that did business all over the world. Basically, though I loved the Army, I realized that ten years in, I was bored. There were only so many life-and-death situations you could be in before you lost your edge. Since I always wanted to be an asset to any team I was attached to, I’d returned to civilian life with the stipulation that, being in the Individual Ready Reserve while working in the private sector, all the Army had to do was call me up when I was needed. And while sometimes the timing was total shit, I wasn’t ready to ever tell the men in my unit no. We were all in the same boat at this point, all of us out, doing other jobs, most in law enforcement, some bodyguards like me, others private investigators. But we all jumped when we were called up, ready to fly to the other side of the world when needed.

That night I was guarding my charge, Hannah Kage, whom I could confess to adoring, though nine times out of ten I wanted to strangle her. She was, at this point, the little sister I never wanted but had probably always needed. The expression trouble magnet must’ve been coined for her. How a twenty-year-old junior at the University of Chicago had a hit put out on her by a cartel in Mexico was beyond my ability to grasp. Watching over her, being her guardian angel, was my first priority, as she was the god-niece—and was that even a thing?—of the big man himself, billionaire real-estate mogul, Aaron Sutter. I worked for him, like all the other twenty-eight thousand people at the company all over the world, and my main job was to make sure no harm ever came to Hannah. It had sounded so cushy when she originally picked me, but then, fairly quickly, I realized she had a propensity for danger I hadn’t factored into my thinking.

Horrible.

Not to mention the fact that she had absolutely no boundaries where I was concerned. All in with my health, like my diet and cholesterol, as well as with my love life and whether I should have a pet. She was insidious and obnoxious, and I would have shut her down and put space between us and told her that it was just business, nothing more, that we weren’t going to be friends because I was paid to protect her, but…it was too late from the start. She saw right through the tough-guy facade that worked for most people. I was a cold, deadly Army sniper, but she never saw me like that. To her, I wasn’t her brother, because she already had one. It was worse. She thought we were buddies, and with every passing day that I had to pick her up and take her somewhere, put myself between her and the world, the bond got deeper. I had no idea how it happened, but she got into my booby-trapped heart, under the trip wire, and made herself at home. It was maddening. The thing was, though, caring for Hannah opened me up for others, like Kurt, so really, I owed her for that. Because even though I hadn’t said it, I was head over heels for the man.

When I met Kurt, he was with Hannah at a fundraising event, having been brought along as her plus-one to first, network, and second, to meet me. Not like she was playing matchmaker, but because Kurt, as Hannah’s psychiatrist, wanted to meet me.

A month before, in the process of saving Hannah, her brother, and her brother’s friends from peril, I’d killed a couple of guys. To me, since I was doing my duty, it was not traumatic when I had to put the assailants down. For the kids, they needed to talk to a shrink and make sure there was no buildup of shock or damage that could hurt them down the line.

I understood that. PTSD was a real and terrifying part of life that had to be dealt with.

And because all the kids had sung my praises, their doctor, Kurt, wanted to meet me so I could maybe give him a better understanding of what they went through and who I was.

I didn’t really get that. I had no idea what kind of insight he was going to get from meeting me. But because he had requested it and because I didn’t have time and had to cancel more than once, Hannah had basically bushwhacked me with her psychiatrist.

The thing was, guarding Hannah was not the only thing I did at Sutter. My other duties included detailed threat assessments for executives traveling abroad, putting together security details, and matching bodyguards with those needing protection. I did a lot of interviews, talked to people, and got to know everyone so I could make informed decisions that would save lives. I was effective in my position, I noticed everything about people and their environments, their colleagues and loved ones, and knew almost intuitively who would work well together and those who would butt heads. My track record was exemplary, so much so that I had been promoted to being the number two man to the head of the division. The only thing getting in the way of me moving up higher, or being transferred overseas to run my own division, was that when the Army called, I was gone. Others had to pick up the slack, and though thus far Hannah had had no events while I was gone, a few times I had to have friends cover for me. Like the issue with the cartel that had put a price on her head. I was deployed when they came for her, and a friend had to take care of the threat. Everything had worked out, but I didn’t like to be beholden to anyone. Favors could be called in, and not having the power to decline whatever was asked was hard for me. Having grown up in foster care, the ability to say no had been a hard lesson.

Really, I was a mess. So many triggers, so much damage, lots of untapped rage and frustration, pain and sadness. Some days it was a wonder I functioned at all. But that sounded so whiny, as though I was feeling sorry for myself, so I never told a soul. And really, my ego was strong where my skill set was concerned. I would put my ability to take care of myself and others up there with anyone else’s. I had absolute confidence in that area of my life. On the flipside, my capacity to love another person, and to be loved in return…that, I wasn’t so sure about. I wasn’t certain my heart was really working, and anyone wanting me to begin with, as a partner, seemed like a stretch.

But that night, at the stupid fundraiser, Hannah’s friend David, who came from a crazy-rich family, was the victim of an attempted kidnapping. It only got as far as attempted because I foiled it, and Kurt got to see me in action.

That part was good because he was impressed. It went back to my confidence in my ability. The skill set of being able to kill other people worked by default. I could be nearly comatose, as I was now, and still, if I was attacked, or others in my proximity, I would defend myself and them, and I was going to win. I was lethal, no question, but that didn’t do squat for my love life.

And yet somehow, Kurt saw around all that. My “penchant for violence,” as he called it, a trait he abhorred, did not stop him from taking a step toward me instead of away. All the things that made me run from others, he simply didn’t do. That night had been the start because I had been hurt. No way around that when there were a lot of people with automatic machine guns. But when it was over, he took me home and took care of me. He didn’t want anything more than to watch me sleep. It had been the beginning of a better life for me, and I was grateful and so much more that I wasn’t ready to say out loud.

Two years in, you’d think everything had been sorted out and we were set. And that would probably have happened if I were home all the time, wasn’t deployed or didn’t travel in a non-combat capacity. As it was, we had yet to see what long stretches of time looked like for us. Or periods spent with his family. Small things always seemed to be the death of past relationships. Simple things like getting home by myself instead of waiting to be picked up. I never counted on anyone. But now I waited for Kurt because he wanted to be there. And still I was amazed that he was there, in my life, and didn’t seem to want to leave.

“Hey,” he said, chuckling, “since when do you wait to eat?”

“I’m having an existential crisis,” I groused at him.

His smile was brilliant. “Have it after you put something in your body.”