“I agree. Anyway, Kayce had the strawberries all laid out on a table he’d made out of a couple of barrels and some boards. He was guarding them like a momma wolf with her cubs.”
“So, you guys didn’t help yourselves before he got to making his dessert?”
“Yeah.” Gunnar snorted out a laugh. “Kayce didn’t figure on a RPG coming in and hitting where the strawberries were drying. It blew them all over the place.”
“Ouch, that’s scary.”
He understood it was for most people. But when you were down range in those places, RPGs were just a fact of life. “We started getting some insurgents that were trying to probe our wire.” He was going to ignore the fact her eyes were closing as he was speaking. For the first time ever, he wanted to finish a war story. “Kayce was so upset that the strawberries got hit, he wound up jumping behind a machine gun in a guard tower, and I mean he wound up smoking like six guys and ended up getting a NAM with a V.”
“I don’t understand. What’s a NAM with a V?”
“A ribbon bar of the Achievement Medal with "V" device the Navy gives them for combat bravery,” Gunnar explained. “Kayce is the only cook I know that has ever gotten a valor device. He just went crazy over those strawberries.”
“You don’t mess with the strawberries.”
He froze when she patted his leg. He didn’t think she even realized she’d done it. “Nope, and never attempt it if the cook is called Kayce.”
Somehow, a truce had been called between them. He didn’t understand it, or why it had happened. But it was much better than them arguing all the time. So, he was taking it as a win. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV and turn out the light?”
“No, not at all. I can get the light, it’s closer to me.”
“Thanks.” He reached for the remote, flipped on the TV, and flipped through the channels until he found one playing some mellow music just as the room darkened when she turned off the light. He’d expected her to disappear back into his room and was pleasantly surprised when she once again sat next to him on the couch.
Shit, I can’t think of any other stories to tell her.
There was an awkward silence for a couple of moments. Gunnar glanced at his watch, trying to figure out if he shouldoffer coffee or something else, but decided as it was almost five AM, coffee was a viable option. “Would you like some coffee or breakfast?”
“It’s not been that long since we ate,” she replied. “Coffee is enough. I have nowhere to put any more food.”
He got to his feet. “Remi forgets that not everyone is a hound when it comes to serving sizes.” He padded into the kitchen. “Do you want Italian or American coffee?” He opened a cupboard, searching for the device he thought his mom might have left here the last time she visited. “Or I have a whipper,” he knew that probably wasn’t the right name for it, but figured she’d know what it was when he held it up for her to see, “and can make you some frou-frou coffee?”
“It doesn’t matter what kind of coffee it is.” She tugged the blankets out from under her and covered her legs with them. “As long as it has enough milk to make it look like a mix between a vanilla and chocolate milkshake.”
“You got it.” He went about making her drink, all the while conscious of her watching him. At least the fear had left her eyes. He’d take it. Once their coffees were ready, he carried them to the couch and handed her the mug. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“I got it.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
He’d heard of smiles which warmed people from the inside out, but had never experienced one from anyone but his mom before. “You’re welcome.” He was careful when sitting back down on the couch that he didn’t jostle her and add spilling her coffee all over her to his list of sins, and just enjoyed the morning with her at his side as the sun slowly turned the sky red as it woke from its slumber.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“I agree.” He reached for his phone as it beeped. “It’s good for the soul to see the sun rise over the complex.” He scannedthe message. “Remi is back in the war-room and said for you to go on down when you are awake.”
“Remi can wait until the sun has done her thing.” She sipped on her coffee. “Besides, I have no clean clothes to wear. I just might stay here on your comfy couch all day.”
Satisfaction that she’d choose to stay here with him rather than escape to stay with his brother for the day filled him.
“Can the others see this from their places too?”
“Yeah, we’re all on this side,” he replied. “Our guest wing is on the opposite side over the war-room and the main house.”
“Nice. Your house is awesome, but I’m so relieved I don’t have to clean it. It would take all week and by the time I’d be done, I’d have to start all over again.”
“Yeah, we have cleaners for the non-personal spaces for that reason.”
“I couldn’t see you with a cleaner in here.” Her voice was filled with teasing. “I think you might develop hives unless you knew the person well.”
“Yup, pretty much.” He tapped out a text to Marco. Maybe if she had her stuff here, she’d stop wanting to leave.
