“Tate, your best friend and business partner?” Gabe clarified.
Rhett shot me a knowing look over the fan of his cards. I could have deflected, made some kind of snarky remark, but something had me choosing honesty.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I answered, “Since I’ve been out here, I’ve been maybe thinking about how she means more to me than both those things. How maybe I should do something about that.”
It felt both terrifying and liberating to say it out loud.
Thompson ducked through the tent flap, grinning from ear to ear. “Just got off the phone with my wife. The adoption’s going through! We’re having a baby!”
His baby news interrupted any response, and after the celebration died down, the conversation circled back to relationships. I was about to dig into Gabe about the way he got all squirrelly whenever anyone mentioned a certain florist back home, when the first explosion hit.
The ground shook beneath us. Shouts erupted outside.
“We’re under attack!”
We scrambled for our gear, and when Clint held out his hand for our traditional pre-mission stack, I didn’t hesitate.
“I say we make a pact,” he declared. “If we get out of this shit alive, we go home and woo our women. A happily ever after is the only thing that makes all this worth it.”
I thought of Tate’s smile. “In.”
As the others added their agreement, I sent up a silent prayer that we’d all make it home. I had a best friend to confess my feelings to, and I really didn’t want to die before I got the chance.
One
Kellan
As the bus rolled down Main Street, beneath the blessed shade of old-growth trees, I couldn’t help but notice how Huckleberry Creek had gone all out for our return. Red, white, and blue bunting draped across almost every storefront, and what looked like half the town lined the sidewalks, waving flags. After nearly a full year away, it was one hell of a welcome home.
The bus turned into the high school parking lot—about the only place in town big enough to handle this kind of gathering. The moment the door opened, I was up, duffel in hand, scanning the crowd for familiar faces.
And there she was.
Tate stood with my family, golden hair stirring in the autumn breeze, wearing a pink plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and jeans that had been washed to a butter softness that molded to her well-toned legs in a way that had my mouth watering. At her feet, Cornbread’s tail worked overtime. My Heinz 57 mutt looked about ready to bolt through the crowd to get to me. She had one hand on his collar, but her eyes were locked on the bus, searching. When she spotted me, her whole face lit up with relief and joy and something I couldn’t begin to name.
All those calls and texts and video chats hadn’t prepared me for seeing her in person again. Not even close.
She jolted as Cornbread strained on his lead. Then they were both pelting toward me. It was hard to tell which of them was running harder. My pup reached me first, bouncing like he had springs in his feet, trying to get high enough to lick me. Laughing, I crouched down and wrapped my arms around him.
“Hey, pal! Hey, buddy. Who’s the best boy? I missed you, too.”
He wriggled and cried in ecstasy, his tail beating my legs hard enough it was probably gonna bruise. His whole body vibrated with joy, and his excited whimpers made my throat tight with emotion. Didn’t matter how many welts I ended up with. It was absolutely worth it to have my dog back in my arms after being away for so long.
Tate crouched down beside us, leaning in for a hug. I wrapped my free arm around her and squeezed, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. The three of us huddled there in the parking lot, my dog still whining and squirming between us, making it hard to keep my balance. But I didn’t care. After so long away, having both of them close felt like coming home in a way that I hadn’t even been able to imagine.
“Great to see you, T.”
“Great to see you, too.” She turned her face toward my ear and dropped her voice. “I need you to go with this,” she murmured.
“Go with what?”
Then she kissed me. And not one of those friendly, brotherly kisses on the cheek. She kissed me full on the mouth, as if she was a drowning woman and I was oxygen. My brain short-circuited, unable to process what was happening as Tate’s soft lips moved against mine. The familiar honeysuckle scent of her skin filled my senses, and for a moment, I forgot we were in a parking lot. Forgot about everything except the way her mouth felt against mine, warm and insistent and completely unexpected. If I was dreaming, I sure as hell didn’t want to wake up, because I was so here for this.
I tightened my arm around her and kissed her back, pouring out all the yearning and wanting inspired by my deeper feelings. As if we’d already decided we were more, and I was coming back to a lover, not a friend. My hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in that silky hair I’d always wanted to touch this way. The years of holding back, of keeping my feelings carefully contained behind the wall of friendship, crumbled with each brush of her lips. God, how many times had I imagined this? But reality was so much sweeter than any fantasy I’d conjured up during my sleepless nights on deployment.
Tate whimpered, her arms tightening around me, fingers digging into my shoulders in a way that made my heart race even faster. At least until Cornbread head butted us for attention with the massive head that had clearly been passed down from some pit bull in his lineage. The impact nearly knocked us sideways. Tate jerked back and would have toppled over if not for my arm around her waist, holding her steady against me. For a long moment, we stared at each other, both breathing hard, neither quite ready to let go. Her blue eyes were hugely dilated, darkened to the color of storm clouds, her lips a little swollen and rosy from mine. The sight of them made me want to dive right back in, dog be damned.
“Kellan! Welcome home!”
