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And I refused, utterly refused, to believe we wouldn’t get another chance. That I wouldn’t get a chance to make things right. I’d been afraid of committing to Zeb, to Kringle’s Crossing, to my own future, but here on this lurching chopper, I knew true fear. Being afraid to get the one thing I wanted most in this world was nothing compared to the fear of never having it and losing the chance for good.
Below us, the base appeared like blocks in a kid’s play set, the ground crew scurrying like ants as we readied for another approach.
“Fuck this weather.” If even the stoic and ever-optimistic Rooster was cursing, we were truly in a bad place. The chopper’s com speaker crackled with an announcement from the cockpit.
“Gonna need y’all to brace for a hard one. We’re only gonna get one shot at this.”
I held tight to a nylon strap, bending forward and bracing my feet as I tried to protect my head. But there was no protection from my rising fear or increasingly doomsday thoughts.
What if Zeb never knew how I truly felt?
As the chopper dipped with its approach, I saw Zeb’s shining face the night of the snowball fight. I could hear his laughter, see the snowflakes glistening in his beard, taste his frosty lips, and smell his cinnamony goodness. What wouldn’t I give to have another night exactly like that one?
I’d rushed into battle for far lesser causes, so why was I so reluctant to fight for a future with Zeb?
Bang.
Rattle.
Shake.
Boom.
We landed hard enough that my teeth rattled, my ass shook, my biceps burned, and my feet ached from the jolt. But somehow, we stayed upright and didn’t tip or crash.
“We made it. Thank God. We made it.” The newbie was close to tears, and I offered him a discreet, reassuring pat.
“We did.”
All of us were in a hurry to get the hell off the chopper. The line for the chance to call home would be super long, and I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to say yet. No way was my stomach interested in food either, so I headed off in search of some rack time.
“Orion!” However, before I got far from the helipad, a chief I hadn’t seen before flagged me down. “Not so fast. Orders came in to get you on a transport back to the States. Some sort of strategic meeting they want your ass in-person for. Transport leaves in forty-five, so no time for anything except hauling ass across base.”
“Got it.” God bless the hurry-up-and-wait navy. Hours and hours of flight time for what could likely be a thirty-minute meeting. I schooled my expression even as I did internal calculus on whether I had time to grab a cup of coffee. Or breathe. Breathing would be nice.
“Hey, man, at least you get a New Year’s Eve arrival back home, and hopefully, you’ll be stateside before the ball drops.”
“Wow.” My math shifted to how in the hell mere days had passed since I’d left Kringle’s Crossing. When I’d arrived at Thanksgiving, New Year’s had seemed so far off, and now, here it was, the time I’d originally had to leave anyway.
“Arrival time will let you get a couple of hours at home and some good shuteye before whatever the brass has in store for you.” The chatty chief gave me a last smile before adding, “Safe travels.”
I was almost to the landing field the giant transport planes used when I heard my name again. “Hey! Orion!”
Expecting yet another change in plans, I stifled a groan as I turned around. My would-be groan turned to a smile, though, as I saw the bomb specialist from the SEAL team trucking toward me at top speed. The dude was fit.
“Rooster, my man, shouldn’t you be passed out in your rack already or in line for a hot shower and some decent chow?”
“In a minute.” He smiled back at me. “Heard the LT say you’re headed stateside.”
“Yep. Assuming the wind doesn’t ground the transport flight as well, but sounds like the plan is to get me stateside ASAP.”
“It’ll likely be New Year’s Eve when you get back.” Rooster’s smile turned wistful. “Can’t believe the holiday season is almost done. I’m missing getting to spend it with my guy like crazy. I’m hoping for a phone call home soon, but I was wondering if you could deliver a personal message and a belated Christmas gift for me?”
“Absolutely. Consider it done.” I didn’t even have to consider the request. I’d grant it for anyone, but I’d worked several missions with Rooster, had even had a couple of meals with him and his guy, Caanan. The two were crazy in love, just like me and…
Oh. There it was. That realization I’d been circling around all day. And the words I’d been searching for were right there when I probably wouldn’t get to use them any time soon.
