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The words popped out before I could censor myself. That was one of the things I loved so much about Zeb. He was easy to talk to. Didn’t judge or dismiss. Actually listened.
“Sounds scary.” He gathered me tightly against him, warm water sluicing over both of us.
“Yeah. But we made it.” I returned his embrace, hugging him hard. “I’m here now. In one piece and everything. No biggie.”
Zeb frowned at my attempt at a joke. “It’s all right not to like every aspect of your job, Atlas.”
Grabbing the soap, he started lathering my chest and arms, quick, efficient movements that served to relax me.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I exhaled hard. I was so used to having to pretend to love every bit of military life because outsiders didn’t often grasp the complexity of choosing this way of life. “Helicopters suck, and I was so afraid I might not get the chance to be here with you or to tell you how I feel.”
“And how do you feel?” Reaching down, Zeb gave my ass a meaningful squeeze. I chuckled, chest and heart both light, loving how he’d sensed I needed the humor right then.
“Good. Great. Keep going.” Pulling him even closer, I gave him a thorough kissing before releasing him to peer deeply into his eyes. “Grateful. I’m grateful to have had the time we did in Kringle’s Crossing, grateful for whatever I did to deserve someone like you. And I’m so damn grateful you came here.”
“Well, technically, no one has come yet…” Zeb’s eyes sparkled as he lightly tickled my sides before soaping up my back. “You want to rectify that here with some shower fun or in bed?”
“Bed.” I both laughed and yawned at the same time. “I’m so tired I’m not sure my old knees can hold me upright if I come.”
“Well, in that case…” Zeb soaped himself with the efficiency of a recruit in week four of basic training, rinsing us both before hopping out of the shower. “Race you to the bed, old man?”
“Race is gonna be more of a slow trot.” I laughed more as he handed me one of the big, white, fluffy towels. Despite his challenge, he waited for me to dry off and held out a hand so we could walk together to the bedroom.
“Maybe we both won the race?” I suggested as he tossed back the covers.
“Absolutely.” Giving an impish smile, he pushed me backward onto the bed. As with earlier, I was happy to let him boss me around a little. He peered down at me with stern eyes. “Since you’re so exhausted and all, you should lie there and let me do all the work.”
“Uh-huh.” I made a happy noise as he straddled my waist. “So this is work now, is it?”
“Back-breaking hard work.” He lightly smacked my abs with his cock. Loving this display of confidence, I grinned up at him.
“You look so very taxed and stressed.” I groaned as he started rocking against me, dragging his cock against mine. Over the past month, I’d come to love grinding with him, but I’d spent the week since Christmas Eve dreaming of a repeat. “Please tell me you packed lube?”
Zeb had shown me that sex didn’t have to be uncomfortable or awkward, and I couldn’t wait to see how good seconds might be.
“Along with all my computer equipment, yes.” Gleeful, he reached over to the nightstand where he’d already stowed the same lube we’d had at the hotel. He tossed it next to me on the bed before revealing a small wrapped object. “Oh, and your Christmas present.” He placed the small package in the center of my bare chest, right under my tat. “I loved your present for me, by the way. Totally the start of a collection.”
“Keep me around, and I’ll add to it every year,” I promised as I studied the perfect wrapping job.
“I’m keeping you.” He gave me a swift kiss before sitting up again. “On Christmas, I had it in the pocket of a parka for you. You’ll get that later.”
“You got me a coat?” Even after all the events of this evening, I still marveled at Zeb’s kindness and caring. He made being taken care of feel amazingly right. And safe. With him, I could let down my guard, admit mundane things like being tired or cold.
“Well, you can’t spend more time in Kringle’s Crossing freezing in that light jacket.”
“True.” I opened the box to reveal an old metal compass. “It’s a compass?”
“From Grandpa Seasons. It was his, and then he gave it to me the year you and Gabe graduated. I thought he might like me passing it on so you can always find your way back to me and Kringle’s Crossing. To home.”
“I love it.” I swallowed. I looked at the ceiling. I looked dead-on into the bedside light. I closed my eyes hard. Opened them. Nope. Nothing helped. A tear escaped my eyes. But Zeb made it safe to feel big emotions too. He gently ran a finger down my cheek.
