The Power of Love (7 page)

Josh had little routines, things that he had to do or he couldn’t rest. When she’d first moved in here, the intention to be the guys’ surrogate, she’d picked up on them, and slowly but surely, had started to do them for him.

It made for a happier home life.

Not because Josh was an ogre, but because the littlest things could blow him out, and with all the pressure of his job, it had been her pleasure to help ease him of any unnecessary strain.

Anything from making sure the keys that hung on the back of the door stayed in alphabetical order depending on which doors they opened, to always having coffee percolating ready for him to drink when he arrived home. They were small chores in the grand scheme of things, but they allowed Josh to settle, to relax. One thing she’d come to learn was there was no shame in trying to please the people you loved. And Gia didn’t care what any feminist had to say on the matter.

She measured out his milk, added the coffee from the pot, and stirred in a tablespoon of honey. He’d headed straight for the patio doors to look over the yard and the city in the distance. She could see the tension in his shoulders and ached for him. Christ, she ached for herself.

Mug in hand, with her free pinkies, she stroked his back and then passed him his drink. He accepted it with a low, “Thank you, baby.” When she didn’t reply but remained close, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I had to do some things that weren’t exactly legal to come by the evidence. I had to keep it under wraps. From you too.”

“I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

He turned to glare at her. “Of course, you wouldn’t. Dammit, Gia, I don’t think you have loose lips. I was frightened you’d talk me out of it, and I couldn’t let you do that. I have to clear his name; I’m not letting him dedicate all those years to his fucking country only for it to shit on him at the end.”

She wanted to smile at his version of an apology, so instead she buried her face in his back, hiding from the man down the hall, the man in front of her, and the goddamn armed forces.

Being married to a soldier was being married to the job. It was like ruling your day wasn’t enough; it had to rule every aspect of your life too.

She swore the level of pressure in his world was the reason Josh had OCD in the first place. Control was his watchword, and without it, things started to crumble. If that happened, and it had only done so once in all the time she’d been with him, he didn’t flounder. He got angry. And like Bruce Banner, she didn’t like him when he was angry.

When she nuzzled her forehead into his back, he murmured, “It will be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

“What if it isn’t?” she replied. “What if
he
isn’t?” Because now, after seeing him, it was more than about the case and his discharge; Luke was different.
He
wasn’t okay, and no amount of promises would turn back the clock to give them the man who they’d last seen after their short honeymoon together.

“He will be. He just got back. It’s always a culture shock. You don’t know what it’s like out there, honey. It’s like being flung back a thousand years, only the machines and equipment are reminders that your life is constantly in danger. It’s too incongruous. It’s always hard to acclimate. Add to it this bullshit with his CO, and being dismissed? It’s no wonder he’s sour.”

“But with us?” She shook her head. “I didn’t think today would be like this. Maybe it was naive of me, but I thought he’d be glad to be home.”

At her words, he turned around fully this time. Cupping the back of her head, he pressed her face into his chest, then rubbed his chin over the crown. “He is, but he needs to acclimate to real life again. You need to be patient with him.”

She nodded, knowing he was right. “I will. I promise.”

“It takes time, and we have all of that and more. Don’t we?”

Hearing the smile in his voice, she whispered, “I want him to be okay. What do his medical records say? I can’t believe I wasn’t there for him when all this stuff was going down. Why didn’t they let us be with him in the hospital?”

“When he was transferred out of the field hospital, love, he was placed in one in Italy. Plus, all that time, he was in custody. It wasn’t like we could visit.

“But on the whole, he’s okay. There was some damage to the nerves in his lower body. He’ll have some issues getting back onto his feet, but with rehab, he’ll regain full motility.”

The formality of his phrasing told her he’d remembered those words verbatim from the report. She processed them but stayed quiet.

“Talk to me, Gia.” He pressed another kiss to her crown.

“About what?”

“What’s going through your head?”

She sighed. “Not a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I say.” She shrugged. “I want him here, that’s all I need. I’m glad he’s in one piece. At least for the most part. Healthy suits me. Happy would be cool, but I can handle him being a grouch. He deserves to be pissed off.”

He chuckled. “I like the way you see the world, babe.”

Looking up at him, she smirked. “I see the world in technicolor.”

“Good job, seeing you’re in a relationship with two husbands.”

“Oh, I fly the rainbow flag all the time.” His grin prodded her lips into twitching. “It doesn’t matter. None of this bullshit does. All we need is to get him back on track. That’s what counts.”

He nodded. “How the hell did you get so wise for someone so young?”

“I have two sugar daddies. I get my wisdom from them.”

“Oh yeah because you’re so dumb.” He narrowed his eyes. “How often does the world underestimate you because of your years?”

She leaned back to look up at him, and the strange cast to his features made her reach up and cup his jaw. He was perturbed on her behalf, and while that was sweet, she didn’t want him to waste energy being concerned about her when there was no need. She had her place in the world; she’d found it the day she’d met these two. “Don’t worry about it. Means I can hide in the shadows.”

Considering she was a writer, a fact he was entirely unaware of, that she could hide in the shadows at all was a great advantage. Hell, half her characters were based on people she knew in real life, people she watched, listened to, learned from.

He shook his head. “You’re wasted in this house.”

That made her frown. “The hell I am.”

“You are. You’ve got that shiny degree, you’re all Bachelored up, and here you are, overwaxing the floors.”

She blushed. “You noticed.”

“I nearly broke my neck this morning.” He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “I know I’m a stickler for cleanliness, but that takes the biscuit.”

“I wanted the place to be clean for him.”

“Well, it worked, because it’s definitely clean,” he teased, and then his smile slipped away. “Are you sure you’re happy here?”

Considering it was usually Luke who came to her with these “are you sure?” moments, Josh’s words came as a shock. Neither man seemed to understand that home was where she was happiest. Maybe she wasn’t a high-flying attorney or a rich and famous psychologist to the stars, but she’d never wanted to be that anyway. Was there anything wrong with wanting to be a wife and mother? Even if that was a wife to two men?

She had her career. She wrote, and that writing enabled her to discover new worlds, explore new territory, and make a name for herself regardless of whether it was under the guise of a pseudonym or not.

Granted, Josh didn’t know about that particular career choice, and the knowledge was new to Luke too. She’d never wanted to share it with them. It was hers and hers alone. She didn’t need their encouragement or their praise. Never had. The way they’d included her in their lives, the love they had for her, the family they’d created together…all of it made for a woman who until this business with Luke, had been entirely well-rounded and content with her status quo.

How to condense that for Josh, though?

“Happy isn’t the word, love. And now Lexi’s being homeschooled, things are so busy it’s great.” She patted his cheek, hoping the simple touch would reassure him even if her words didn’t.

“We can afford a tutor.”

“I like teaching her. Until she outgrows me, I’m happy doing this.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes. I’m sure. But thanks for asking.”

He shrugged, then sheepishly admitted, “I’ve always been too frightened to ask before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a selfish bastard,” he groaned, then pressed his forehead to hers. “I like you here. I like knowing you’re here. It makes me feel better. And I know that’s terrible. You’re a grown woman, you have your own life to lead, and it shouldn’t all be through us. Not only that, it’s not the sixteenth century. The woman’s place isn’t in the home anymore, and it isn’t that I want to keep you contained here, it’s, God…I don’t know.”

“My life isn’t all through you,” she promised.

“It feels like it is sometimes. It’s hard to remember you’re twenty-six sometimes, far too young for all this. You should be out partying, having fun.”

“Do you think I’m suffocating in my domestic bliss?” she teased. “Because I promise you, I can barely keep up with you all. That isn’t a complaint, but it’s the truth.” Curious now, she murmured, “Why do you like me to be here?”

“I don’t want you tied to the stove, barefoot and pregnant,” he denied, wriggling his shoulders, his awkwardness telling and cute as hell. “It isn’t that. It’s…you’re safe here. I see so much shit, hear about it, read about it. My day is filled with it. Who’s blowing up who, where they’re doing it—” He shook his head. “I like thinking of you here. Doing whatever you want to do.

“I-I know I’m a pain about the house, needing it clean, but you don’t have to do it. I want you to know that you can do whatever the hell you want. I’m not your keeper.”

She frowned. “I never thought you were.” Reaching up, she cupped his chin. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I—” He sighed. “I don’t know. I only wanted you to know how I feel. That bastard in there misreads me all the time, and he knows me pretty goddamn well. We’ve been together for close to six years, and I don’t think it’s enough for you to realize I’m not as controlled as you think.”

She blinked, then reached up on tiptoe to kiss him. “I love you, Josh. Whether you’re a pain in the ass, or my ass, whatever. It’s the God’s honest truth. If I didn’t like my life, well, I have a voice in my head. I can tell you, and I would.

“The difference is, I
am
happy. I love my life. It’s not what I imagined doing, but I play my part in the bigger picture. I have a mini-genius to raise and two soldiers who play a part in situations that affect national security. We’re not all made to be the top man.”

He rubbed his nose with hers. “I want you to be happy. That’s all. I want that more than anything.”

“I know. And I am.”

Josh studied her for a second, seeking the truth in not only her words but her expression too. He must have found it, because he murmured, “I’m glad.” And that was that.

Chapter Four

“Mommy, what’s wrong with Papa?”

Dealing with the question was one thing, but it was the sorrowful look on Lexi’s face that nearly broke her heart. Josh looked at her over the paper—he was a staunch traditionalist, preferring the real thing over an app at breakfast—obviously waiting for her to reply and curious about what she’d say.

Great. That meant she had to deal with that minefield herself.

Christ, who was the soldier here?

“We’ve been through this, sweetheart,” she stated matter-of-factly. “He’s just come home after being in a nasty place, and he isn’t feeling too great. When you’re ill, do you want to start jumping up and down giggling?”

Lexi pursed her lips, then shook her head, ruffling the head of curls that were the bane of Gia’s life when it came time to wash the ragtail mop. “No, but I
do
smile. Papa never smiles, and he used to smile all the time.”

“He’s hurting, baby,” Josh inserted, fortunately coming to Gia’s aid.

“All the time?” she asked sadly. “That has to suck.”

“It does,” Gia replied. “And it means that all his attention is on getting better.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do to cheer him up?”

Gia grimaced at Josh. “Well, sure. We can be nice to him, even if he’s grumpy or if he snaps at us. We can try to be quiet when he’s resting so it doesn’t wake him up—because sleep is good for him, sweetheart. It will make him get better faster. Things like that.”

Lexi’s brow puckered as she processed the admittedly short list. Gia wasn’t entirely certain as to how to cheer her lover up, so she wasn’t the best person to come to for advice. Lexi’s cherry-granola-stained mouth was on the brink of opening, probably to poke holes in her mother’s argument when her head tilted. Luke’s bedroom door had squeaked open and then shut, and his heavy, lumbering gait sounded down the hall. The odd thumping sound was difficult to get used to after Luke’s sleek walk. Both her men usually walked like jungle cats, silent and deadly. If they didn’t want to be heard, then there was no hearing them, though they were tall and fairly well muscled.

The door to the breakfast room opened, and Luke appeared at the jamb. They only used this room on Sundays, as Gia preferred the ease and informality of the kitchen with its large breakfast bar, but on Sundays, when Josh and Luke were at home, she liked to be in here.

She always made an effort too. Today, there were homemade English muffins and the preserves she’d used with the strawberries Lou had given her when the farm had been flooded with the fruit. She’d made pancakes and a maple syrup butter, and then there was a small stove heated by a couple of tea lights that warmed some pieces of bacon and scrambled eggs, a plate of toast, and a pot of still hot coffee, as well as granola and milk for Lexi.

Luke looked like hell. There was no getting around it. The skin around his eyes was taut, haggard. He looked pasty, and he hadn’t shaved in at least five days. She didn’t mind that he was unkempt, but it was telling…Luke hated to be anything other than clean-shaven.

He peered around the room and then staggered inside. The tension in the room increased as the five-second walk took at least four minutes, four minutes where Gia—and undoubtedly Josh as well—fought with herself not to get up and to help him take a seat. The pair of them blew out a relief-loaded breath when he finally reached a chair, and as one, flinched at the low grunt he made…one filled with pain and discomfort.