Have Yourself a Marine Christmas (Always a Marine)

Have Yourself a Marine Christmas (Always a Marine) Read Free Page A

Book: Have Yourself a Marine Christmas (Always a Marine) Read Free
Author: Heather Long
Tags: Always a Marine Book 20
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once on the arm of the chair, he glared. “Fine. They hosed down the entire gym with tinsel and crap.”
    That was why he didn’t go to his therapy? “They decorated…for Christmas.”
    “Yes. Now get your ass off that bench and let’s go back where it’s warm.” The growly order would normally earn him an equally bitten-off retort, but since she was half frozen and a deal was a deal, she rose. He unlocked his wheels and turned the chair without waiting for her.
    “It’s the holidays. We decorated for Thanksgiving, too.”
    He said nothing and Noel chewed the inside of her cheek. A peek toward him showed his face in danger of the scowl wearing a groove into his forehead. She’d done a lot of research about Rebel over the year, mostly unintentional. His mother, Helen Brun, and she were on a first name basis and spoke weekly. His platoon commander, a Lieutenant Brody Essex, had also taken to contacting her at frequent intervals.
    “Hey, I’m on your side.” She lost the combative edge and halted his chair, leaning behind him to whisper so her voice wouldn’t carry. Unable to see his face at that angle, she had to trust he listened to her. “Talk to me.”
    Silence.
    “Reb—Ryan—your mom said you love the holidays. Are you missing your family? You know they’d fly in—” And that turned out to be the wrong tack.
    “No.” Curt. Dismissive. Shut down.
    Damn it .
    Gripping his chair, she headed back toward the wing.
    “Stop.” The word was so low, she almost missed it, but she obeyed the request. “Lunch. You said something about food.”
    “I thought we’d hit Ortho and then eat.”
    “Your stomach is growling; you’re hungry now.” And he didn’t want to go inside. Turning the new puzzle piece over in her head, she considered their options.
    “You up for a prison break?”
    He jerked his shoulders and twisted to look at her. “Seriously?”
    And the ice breaks.
    “Damn straight. My car is right around the corner. There’s a Jason’s Deli about fifteen minutes up the road….”
    “I could kiss you right now.” A grin cut a path across his dour expression and she turned left. If bending the rules got him to open up, she’d batter the damn doors down. Fortunately, her Ford Focus wasn’t far and pushing the chair helped stave off the chill.
    Digging her keys out of her pocket, she unlocked the car and dumped the bags from the front seat into the back. Unfortunately, her car looked like she’d just returned from a road trip. Rebel studied the interior with interest, but didn’t comment. Setting his prosthetics on the rear seat, she swung around to help him get in the car, but he’d already wheeled closer to the door and with two powerful swings landed in the front seat.
    “Nice.”
    “I’ve been practicing.” Light gleamed in his eyes, a first for the day and she gave a mental fist bump. She should have recommended running away earlier. Collapsing the chair took a minute then she hoisted the whole thing into the trunk.
    Five minutes later, she considered turning on the stereo, because instead of talking, Rebel stared out the window. Traffic remained relatively light and she found a spot close to the front doors.
    “Can you park on the side?”
    “He speaks.” She let the engine idle and glanced at him. “And why the side?”
    His attention remained fixed ahead of him. “I’d rather not make a spectacle.”
    “Okay.” Ignoring the open spots, she pulled around to the side and parked. It only took a few minutes longer to get his chair out, set up, and Rebel in it. He insisted she grab her sweater and she didn’t argue. Inside, they ordered baked potatoes loaded with brisket for him, and another with cheese, bacon and sour cream for her, along with coffee and bottles of water.
    Fortunately, with the deli pretty quiet, they scored an isolated table by the front windows. Rebel split his attention on the staff and the traffic flow on the street outside—anywhere but on her. She

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