21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (130 page)

Apparently, Kaiden did not. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “Do I look five to you?”

“No. But then chocolate doesn’t care how old you are.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now drink it, grumpy, and go get some sleep.” Taking possession of her cup, she padded away and up the stairs. She made it most of the way to her room before her nerves struck.
Why the hell did I do that?

Why the hell had she kissed him again? The first kiss, he got that. It was a common greeting among those in the Circle—usually limited to those who were very familiar with each other. Her second kiss held an element of challenge and he hadn’t imagined the spark of interest in her eyes or the way she’d smiled when she fled the kitchen with her mug of hot chocolate.

He’d gotten up before the sun and gone running, his path bringing him right back to the lake. Hands on his hips, he stared out over the water. The sun remained only a thought on the horizon, staining the eastern sky with pink and purple as the night peeled back. Sounds on the trail behind him alerted him to a new arrival and he turned to find his mother watching him.

Of course, someone had called her. “Hey, Mom.”

“Shh.” She pressed her finger to her lips and studied him with warm, caramel-colored eyes. “I want to look at my baby.”

Heat burned the tips of his ears, but he did as instructed. A tall woman, his mother stood four inches shorter than his own six-foot-plus frame. He’d inherited her dark blonde hair, but everything else came from his father—or so she always told him. It took Mom a moment, her rapid blinks betraying the tears pooling in her eyes.

The emotional display made him uncomfortable, but he’d learned how to bury the reaction. In slow motion, his mother crossed the pebbled beach to enfold him in a hug both gentle and fierce. “Hey, baby.”

Closing his arms around her, he let his eyes shut. The comfort of her embrace blotted out a decade of bloodshed. He heard her sniffle then blow out a ragged breath before she released him to lean away and study him with eyes that saw too much.

“You don’t want to talk about it.” She knew him—too well.

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head. While he harbored no illusions about the ugliness in the world, or his mother’s awareness of them, he would not be the one to share those details with her. “You look good.”

“I’m old.” She sniffed again and let go of him to pat his cheek. “Don’t humor me. I earned these wrinkles. I wear them with the same pride I do my stretch marks.”

“And at the risk of sounding like the ungrateful bastard who gave you those marks, can we not talk about them?” The burn on his ears ratcheted up a few degrees. He wasn’t a Marine sergeant, home for the first time in years, but her son—embarrassed by her candor.

“Leave the boy alone, Lorraine.” His father strolled down the path, perfect in timing his arrival after his mother’s near tears and before she could really turn their reunion into a roast.

“Killjoy,” his unrepentant mother replied, but she glided into her husband’s embrace and gave him a kiss that had Kaiden shaking his head and averting his gaze. Exhibitionists, the pair of them. “But he seems sad, Henry.”

Henry Nelson kept an arm around his wife and gave Kaiden a thoughtful, if assessing, study. “He looks like he’s been running.” A computer programmer who learned DOS and UNIX through trial and error and earned a degree only after his company insisted he needed one, he knew all about troubleshooting problems. “Are you sad, Kaiden?”

“Tired, sir.” The answer would mollify his mother and satisfy his father. “Long flight and my clock’s still messed up.” He hadn’t really slept after Rowan’s kiss, either, but unlike his parents, he didn’t feel the urge to over-share.

“I told you that’s why he didn’t call.” Henry winked at him over his mother’s head and Kaiden nodded. “But you know your mother. As soon as Aaron told her you were here, she had to make sure you were okay and nothing was wrong.”

“I got an earlier flight, and took a cab straight out here.” Because if he hadn’t, he might have bypassed the weekend altogether.

“I am so happy you’re going to be home this year, but I’m also not a complete idiot, Kaiden. You don’t have to attend Yule if you’re not comfortable.” No, Lorraine Nelson wasn’t an idiot. “I know how loud and obnoxious everyone can be, and they genuinely can’t wait to see you. That said, no one will be offended if you want to give it a pass.”

No, they wouldn’t be. Disappointed, maybe—but not offended. One of the true blessings of his upbringing, of sharing his parents’ faith, was the lack of orthodox demand on how one worshipped.

“When’s the party?” Kaiden forced half a smile and when his mother’s eyes lit up, it didn’t take much effort to let his smile grow.

“Friday, but we’re going to keep it low key.”

“And by low key,” his dad grinned, “she means we’ll bring the liquor.”

Lorraine smacked Henry on the chest, but their laughter warmed the air and Kaiden shook his head. His parents hadn’t changed. Not one bit.

An hour later, he walked them back to the house. His dad intercepted the new arrivals so Kaiden could go shower off the sweat and get dressed. The scent of breakfast filled the air, and he knew from previous experience the group effort to whip up scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, and pancakes. The idea of sausage and bacon had his mouth watering, so he rushed the shower.

How long had it been since he’d had real pork?
Too long
. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, he followed the scent of food to the noisy kitchen where a half-dozen people served out plate after plate. Apparently the population of the Lake House had doubled since the night before.

Instead of cooking or serving, Rowan rode herd on the kids—including four new arrivals—setting them up on the porch to eat their breakfast. His mother patted the table next to her, and Kaiden kept his attention on his parents and not on the woman with the wild mane of auburn, gray-green eyes, and full, luscious lips.

Juggling one plate loaded with a stack of pancakes and a second with a pile of bacon and sausage, Kaiden dropped into the seat his mother saved for him. The vegetarians at the table shook their heads at him, but his dad grinned at the amount of food. “And another reason to be glad you went military. I don’t think we ever fed you enough.”

Kaiden took the good-natured jibe. “If you saw the MREs I eat on a regular basis, you’d know you fed me more than enough.” Tim and John—new arrivals—gave him a quick handshake, while Sandy and Barbara made a point to squeeze his shoulder as they took their own seats.

It irked Kaiden when Rowan stayed with the kids, instead of joining them. Halfway through his pile of pancakes, and only half-listening to the conversation around the table, he couldn’t stop staring at her. His mother tapped his leg. “We all take turns supervising the kids,” she said, her voice pitched low.

Puzzled, he looked at her. “Okay?”

“I’m only telling you so you’ll stop scowling at her. Rowan’s a sweetheart, and she’s single.”

Had he been scowling?

“Lorraine.” Henry chided her in the same low voice she used. “Leave him alone.”

“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.”