this.”
“No. We don’t. Let it go, Rick, let it go and let’s go hike and fuck and have fun, or I’m out.” Mutiny tightened Eli’s expression, but Rick couldn’t let it go. He wouldn’t. They were both stubborn, they were both hardheaded, he had to stay in the game and at least have a real discussion about it.
“No. I think we owe it to ourselves—”
Five minutes later, Eli had thrown his stuff into his rucksack and stalked out of the cabin. Rick thought he might have just needed to cool off, but Eli climbed in his truck and drove away.
He never answered his cell.
He didn’t call back.
Instead, he returned to base and deployed three weeks later. Rick could forgive his absence. He could even forgive the way he walked off. His lover had a temper.
What he couldn’t forgive was the fact that after everything they’d been through, he wouldn’t let Rick in.
No more. You’re home this time, buddy, and we’re going to resolve this—you don’t get a clean extraction from my life.
I won’t allow it .
Chapter Two
Eli barely closed the truck door before being assaulted by three squealing girls. Falling to his knees, he wrapped his arms around the little blonde bombshells vying for his attention. Emily, Kate, and Lucy—ages seven, six and four—were the lights of his life.
“I lost a tooth.”
“Daddy took the training wheels off my bike.”
“I can spell my name—L-U-C-Y.”
“Can you fix the doll house?”
“I want to go get ice cream.”
“Are we building the tree house today? Daddy said if you got here early enough, you could help with the flatform .”
“Piggyback!”
“Want to play Uno?’
Their chatter surrounded him with love. The scents of lemon, lavender, and way too much talc and Chanel No. 5 said they’d been playing in their mother’s bathroom.
Hooking Emily onto his back, he scooped Kate and Lucy up, one under each arm and strode toward the house. His brother-in-law grinned at him and rescued Lucy so they could shake hands. “Welcome home, Eli.”
“Hey, Phil. How’s it going?”
“Good, man. How was Africa?” Phillip Crosswell made a good husband for his sister. Rock steady, the man worked hard nine-to-five every single day and came home to his family.
“Hot. How’s my sister?” He juggled his nieces and followed Phil into the split-level, model suburban. Toys lay scattered across the floor, a basket with freshly laundered towels and blankets partially blocking the front door. His sister’s cat sat on the back of the sofa surveying the chaos and gave him a bored look.
“Exhausted. Happy. You know how she is with a baby.” Phil chuckled. Eli knew exactly how Christina felt about babies—she loved being a mother. When they were kids, she told them stories about how many children she planned to have. At number four, she was halfway to her goal. “Come on, girls, let Uncle Eli go see Mommy and I’m sure he’ll play with you before he has to go.”
Setting his nieces down, Eli held up his keys. “Before I do that—who here has been a good girl?”
“Me!”
“Me!”
“No, pick me! Me!”
Chuckling, he handed the keys to Emily. “If you look in the back seat of the truck, you might find something Santa delivered to me overseas by mistake.”
They charged out shrieking, their father in close attendance. Eli waited until he heard the next set of squeals when they discovered all the wrapped presents in the backseat before climbing the stairs. He knocked gently on the master bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Opening the door slowly, he peeked inside. “Are you decent?”
“Never.” Christina sat up in the bed, a swaddled bundle of blue in her arms. She’d trimmed her hair since the last time he’d seen her. She liked to get a haircut before a baby came, declaring it made those first exhausting weeks with the infant easier. Pixie-short, her auburn hair curled against her forehead.
“Good to know.” He walked over and dropped a kiss