Merry Christmas, Baby(33)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

“You know what I love about you?” she asked.

“I hope that it’s something truly depraved,” he murmured, his gaze drifting over her.

“I love how you feel…inside me.”

“I can hook you up,” he said, rolling on top of her.

Delphie leaned forward and licked a path up his throat. “Make it count, soldier. We’re on a time line here.”

He did.

8

“YOU SERIOUSLY DIDN’T have to do this,” Silas said as they stood in the airport. He had his duffel packed, his papers ready. Everything was a go.

Only he didn’t want to.

“Nonsense,” she said briskly, a wobbly smile on her face. “You’re a friend, Silas, and friends don’t let friends drive themselves to the airport.”

A friend. He knew that was true, but for the first time in his life he wanted to be so much more. He wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, but Delphie Moreau had burrowed under his skin and attached herself to his heart. Was he in love with her? Honestly, he didn’t know. He’d never been in love before and had nothing to compare it to, no frame of reference.

But he knew he cared about her, that he didn’t want to leave her and that the idea of anyone else eating his fried chicken set his teeth on edge and made him want to break things.

If it wasn’t love, then it was damned close.

She’d made arrangements to return the rental to a place in Folly Beach and had driven him to the airport herself. It meant that he got to spend more time with her, of course, but he suspected it was going to make saying goodbye all the more difficult.

Shit.

How had this happened? At what point had she become so damned important? His heart was beating so fast in his chest he was afraid it was going to burst right through. His palms and feet tingled and he had a horrible premonition that when he tried to walk away he wasn’t going to be able to do it, that she would have to make the move first.

“Any idea when you’ll get to come home again?” she asked. She posed the question lightly, as though it didn’t matter, but her mouth was white around the edges and she shifted from one foot to the other, as though she was about to come out of her skin.

“My tour is up in two months,” he said. “I’ll definitely come home for a little while then.”

She smiled. “Is it going to send you into a panic if I say I’d like to see you?”

Relief poured through him, loosening his tight limbs. “Not at all.” He paused, darted a look at her. “I was actually hoping that I could call you, that you’d write.”

She nodded, her eyes twinkling with tentative happiness. “I’d like that very much,” she said.

Damn, this was hard. He had an entirely new appreciation for the guys who left behind wives and significant others now. This was horrible. Like lopping off an appendage.

She raised up onto her tippy toes and kissed him. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, lifted her off the floor and deepened the kiss. He poured every bit of his feelings into the mating of their mouths, showed her everything he didn’t have the words to say. Catcalls and applause suddenly rang out and he reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

“Be careful over there,” she said, her voice thick. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears she tried to keep him from seeing.

He nodded and made himself turn and walk away, and every step that took him farther from her became harder and harder to make.

Bloody damned hell.

WELL, THIS ABSOLUTELY SUCKED, Delphie thought as she watched Silas disappear into the security line. She told herself to move, but couldn’t seem to get her feet to cooperate.

She’d realized late last night that this was going to be more terrible than she’d suspected. He’d mentioned his early departure and her heart had given a painful little squeeze. She’d ignored it then because she hadn’t wanted to do anything that was a) going to clue him in to her sudden discomfort or b) ruin what was left of their time together by alluding to feelings it should be impossible to have.

She’d only known him three days. People didn’t fall in three days. Did they? Rational, sane people? Ordinary levelheaded people? Not to say that she was any of those things—clearly she wasn’t, otherwise she wouldn’t have this huge lump in her throat—but it certainly lessened her ability to make fun of her sister’s drive-thru love connection if it was the case.

The idea of not seeing him, not tasting him, not hearing that wicked laugh she’d grown so attached to made something in her chest twist and squeeze. She loved the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear, the feel of his big hands sliding over her bare back. She liked kissing the soft spot beneath his jaw, loved the smell of his skin.

Two months before she’d see him again? Geez, it already felt like an eternity and he’d been gone less than a minute.

This sure as hell didn’t bode well for the next sixty days.

With a deep bolstering breath, Delphie turned and started toward the exit.

“Delphie!”

Silas? Her heart leaped into her throat. She turned, only to see him running toward her. She frowned up at him as he skidded to a stop. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to miss your flight?”

“Not if I hurry,” he said. His gaze searched hers and he seemed at a loss for the right words, which was bizarre in and of itself. He pushed his hand through his hair, looked away, then back at her.

“Silas?” she asked, confused. “Is something wrong? Have you forgotten something?”

His dark gaze latched on to hers. “Look, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I need to ask you something.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“How do you feel about me?” he wanted to know. “You like me well enough?”

A strangled laugh broke loose in her throat at the absurdity of his question. “I think you know I like you well enough, Silas.”

“And if I wasn’t leaving right now, would you want to see me again on a regular basis?”

She nodded. Definitely. “I would.”

“And if we were seeing each other on a regular basis, then we’d both want exclusivity, right?”

Exclusivity? Was he asking what she thought he was asking? “We would,” she said haltingly. She felt a frown wrinkle her brow. “What are you trying to say, Silas?”

“I’m saying I don’t want anyone else eating your fried chicken,” he said significantly, the words so fierce they sounded as if they’d been pulled out by the roots.

She laughed and inclined her head knowingly. “And does that mean—”

His lips curled with wry humor. “Trust me, I won’t be seeing anyone. I promise.”

Delphie felt a smile slide over her lips as what he said fully registered. She laughed, her heart full with hope and the possibility of true love. “We just went from fun to serious, didn’t we?”

He kissed her again, drew back and sighed. “All that means is that we’re going to be having some serious fun when I return.”

She smiled up at him. “Good,” she said. “I only have one question.”

“What’s that?”

She hesitated, peeked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Do you have a hunting dog?”

He guffawed. “No, but I’ll get one. And the goats and the dairy cow, if necessary.”

“Then we’ll be farmers.”

“So long as we’re together,” he said, shrugging as if that was the only thing that mattered.

And it was.