Three #3

“Come on.”

Walking beside her, I saw men I knew, friends, some of Kurt’s and some of mine, wave at me, but more importantly, I noticed how they looked at Hannah. I didn’t love it. Couldn’t they tell she was a kid?

“Why do you always wear those?”

“Wear what?”

“The four-inch heels.”

“I wear just as many flats, but when I’m in front of people, at a meeting, at a fundraiser, doing anything where I need to be on ,” she said, emphasizing the word, “I like to feel super confident, and being taller helps.”

“This is not a big wedding. Why would you need to be on ?”

“Because this is a huge deal. You included me, and I’ll be standing there with Mr. Mancuso and Ian, and those are people you love and?—”

“ Love is laying it on a bit thick. I do not love Ian Doyle.”

She squinted at me. “No?”

“Absolutely not,” I snapped at her.

“What about Mr. Mancuso?”

“Hell no. Why would you think I did?”

“Because of all the people in the world, you chose him and Ian and me, and I know you love me, so?—”

“I do not love?—”

“Don’t you say it because I know you’re lying and you’ll hurt my feelings.”

God.

“And don’t groan like you’re dying either.”

“For the love of?—”

“It’s important to me. Since you bestowed this honor on me, I wanted to make sure I looked amazing.”

In her suit, that according to Jing was something special, she did, in fact, look beautiful. She was elegant, and I appreciated her making that effort for me even if the shoes were ridiculous.

“Well, you look beautiful, so thank you.”

She beamed, then stopped and opened the door to this room overlooking the forest, which now resembled a fall postcard. Inside, it was done in warm shades of brown and ivory. There were several throws, thick rugs on hardwood floors, and various-sized embroidered cushions. I liked the window seat on one end and the fireplace roaring away on the other. The carved-wood furniture, the built-in bookcases, and an oversize tufted ottoman made the room feel so comfortable, I wanted to take a nap right then and there. Kurt must have had a similar feeling, as he was lying on one of the couches, throw pillow behind his head, while Jory Harcourt sat on the other end. Jill Mancuso and Noah Wheeler sat together in matching chairs with ottomans across from them.

“Hello, George,” Jory greeted me, smiling as Hannah joined him, flopping down—somehow still gracefully—beside him.

“What’s going on in here?” I asked.

“We were filling Kurt in on the perils of being in love with a hero.”

I glanced over at Jill Mancuso, blond, tan, beautiful. A California girl by birth and temperament, kind, sympathetic, in love with the endless summer. Noah Wheeler, with his soft brown eyes and now graying chestnut hair, handsome in an understated, classic way, a man who worked outdoors, who loved nature. And finally Jory, with his dirty-blond mop and surprising brown eyes, his smile radiating warmth as he gazed at his daughter. He was strikingly beautiful, with his cheekbones, his coloring, and his expressive brows.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, walking over to Kurt, so relieved when he immediately put down the cup of tea he was drinking and took my hand. “What are you talking about?”

“The other partners,” Jill began, “they’re heroes too, so they intuitively understand. Like Efrem, who was with Homeland, and Owen the brilliant hacker, and Miro Jones the marshal. Mr. Sutter, whom I met downstairs, is technically still in our club.”

“What club is this?”

“The regular people.”

“Oh, none of you are?—”

“You misunderstand,” Noah said, stopping me. “Jill’s not saying we’re less than, just that we’re mere mortals living with heroes.”

“Not a knight among us,” Jill said with a grin.

I remained quiet.

“We all love soldiers,” Jory said flatly. “All of them go off to do battle every day. Some, like you, put on real armor, while others, like the chief deputy, only on occasion. Jill’s husband, and Noah’s, they’re heroes who go out into the world and fix, in many different ways, what is broken. They face head-on the choices other people have made, and again, like you, put their lives on the line for the greater good.”

“No, I’m not like them. I’m a soldier, and mostly the person who coordinates private security and?—”

Kurt scoffed, and I turned to him.

“We’re being honest right now,” he said, squeezing my hand. “In some capacity, you protect people every day. You step between them and bullets, run into danger, and go to the scariest places in the world to bring others home.”

“Kurt, I?—”

“Don’t tell me you’re not a hero,” he said, his voice going out on him for a moment. “Please.”

“I’m a soldier. We’re all the same. We have to keep our country safe.”

“Which I get, or I thought I did. But it’s hard for me to know that anytime you’re deployed, you might not come home. That’s not so easy to live with.”

I crouched down beside the couch. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want me.” I was terrified of his answer.

“Of course not,” he said, reaching out and taking my face in his hands. Drawing me forward, he kissed me gently.

“Aww,” Hannah said with a long sigh.

Kurt smiled as he leaned back. “I knew the job was dangerous when I signed on, so I’m ready to hold my breath while you’re gone.”

“I promise you, I will?—”

“There is, however, a caveat.”

I could not have stopped myself from scowling at him for a million dollars.

“You will be a hundred percent honest with me going forward,” he stated, and I could hear the warning in his tone. “I will always know where you are when you’re not on a mission so that I can come to the hospital and see you.”

I could finally breathe. “If it’s within my means to do, I will contact you.”

“Explain that.”

I cleared my throat. “I wasn’t conscious for a bit after Wagner and Ruiz got me transported last time. I promise to call as soon as I wake up going forward.”

There was a wounded sound in the back of his throat.

“I’m fine,” I reminded him. “You can see I am.”

“Yes, but I want to see your ankle and hear everything that happened.”

“That’s really not?—”

“It is to me,” he said, meeting my gaze and holding it. “I want to see.”

“But you’ve seen my ankle.”

“Please George.”

“I––”

“Please.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

Slowly, reluctantly, I took a seat beside him. Once I had my shoe off, he had me put my foot in his lap as he removed my sock.

“How many screws?” Jill asked, having gotten up to take a look as well, Noah following her.

“Four.”

“Dante has three in his left knee,” Noah told me. “He tore his ACL when he had to ditch a plane in some remote area near the beach outside Bushmans Kloof Wilderness Reserve years ago,” he said like it was no big deal.

“You sound okay with that.”

His eyes flicked to me. “Oh? Do I? Well, that’s not true at all. The only reason I don’t hyperventilate is because a, it’s been a bit since these things happened, and b, I can see him standing there in front of me whenever some horrible tidbit of information pops out of his mouth at some ridiculous moment, like when he’s changing the batteries in our smoke detectors.”

Jill started laughing.

“She gets it,” Noah said, tipping his head at her. “Out of the blue, some horrific memory will get shared with you, and they think they’re just making conversation.”

Jill was laughing harder and nodding.

Jory said, “My husband was shot once and told the ER doctor that if she could please go ahead and check to make sure nothing was nicked inside, then he would like to be bandaged up so he could go home. She wanted to murder him.”

“He made a doctor homicidal?” Kurt sounded appalled.

“Of course he did,” Jory said matter-of-factly. “And she was perfectly normal before her dealings with him.”

“Dante’s the same way,” Noah chimed in. “Every doctor he ever sees, he assures them whatever twinge is nothing and he merely needs some ibuprofen.”

Jory snorted.

“Same with Chris, who can say, with a straight face, every time, even when his medical file is this big.” Jill moved her hands apart like she was holding a stack of papers. “That maybe there’s some scar tissue that could, perhaps, be the issue.”

“Yep,” Noah agreed. “There are pins in the man’s spine, screws all over his body, and the scars… I can’t count them.”

Jill was nodding. “It’s so fun when your husband is cooking burgers and all of a sudden he’ll say, I remember this one time when I was being tortured and they held my hand on a grill much like this one.”

All eyes on her.

“Then he has the gall to say, you know, that hurts more than you think it would.”

When Jory chuckled, which seemed to me not at all the correct response, everyone seemed to take a breath at once.

“Chris has five screws in his left leg and two in his right shoulder. He used to set off all kinds of metal detectors, but that doesn’t happen much anymore.”

I watched Kurt run his hands over my skin, that looked completely normal now. “I told you I’m fine.”

“Yes, you did,” he replied, putting my sock back on and turning to look at my face. “Now tell me the story from the beginning.”

“Some of it is still classified.”

“He doesn’t care where you were or who you were saving or really anything about what you were doing up until the moment you were injured,” Jory told me. “That’s where he wants the narrative to begin.”

I turned back to Kurt, whose eyes were suddenly filling with unshed tears.

“I’m ready.” He declared, and I could tell he was girding.

“This is not a good idea.”

“It is. I have you with me, so yeah…now’s the best time.”

So I took a breath and told him exactly what happened. And when I was done, he leaned forward for a kiss that I willingly gave him.

Downstairs, having left him—which I wasn’t sure was a great idea with the others still sharing horror stories—I was suddenly joined by Thomasin’s boys, Toby, now twelve, and Dennis, now ten. They’d had their birthdays already this year, one in spring, one in the summer. I didn’t know the exact dates, but Kurt had included my name on their gifts. I appreciated that.

They were sort of crowding me, so I crouched down to their height. I used the same maneuver in the field when rescuing people because Chris had told me years ago that if you looked like you weren’t going to have to run, it wordlessly conveyed calm to others. It worked this time too, both boys taking a breath.

“There were a lot of men who came to take some other guys away,” Toby imparted, sounding worried. “So we wanted to make sure everything was all right with the wedding.”

I smiled at them. “It is. Those guys weren’t here for me or your uncle Kurt. They were here to see someone else.”

“And they’re leaving and not coming back?” Dennis was making sure.

“That’s correct,” I affirmed so they could hear the absoluteness in my voice.

“There was another man who left, and he seemed kind of mad,” Toby apprised me. “He said a lot of bad words on his way out.”

I was certain Horace Gleason had been swearing a blue streak on his way out of Dante’s B it was too secluded. She needed friends and a good school, and Noah had to work. But years later, when Grace left for college, Dante and Noah made the transition to living full-time in the sleepy little town of Venice. Noah had agreed on the condition that he could make changes. It was a no-brainer for Dante.

The name of the B&B became the Fox’s Glove, for foxglove, the flower, and mostly for Dante, being the hunted fox, having outwitted all his enemies, all those trying to kill him, and ending up safe and prosperous. I liked the logo, a fox wearing gloves with a walking stick. It bordered on kitschy but didn’t trip over into silliness, because really, foxglove was poisonous, so there was a slight hint of danger there.

On the first floor was a small tavern, the Fox’s Den, and as far as I could tell, everyone traveling by or going to the preserve, as well as the townspeople, all drank there. The restaurant, which was always busy, was called the Wren’s Nest, and Dante had visiting chefs, who were all insanely gifted and on the cutting edge of the culinary world, just stopping by. It worked out wonderfully for me and Kurt, as Nevena Conti, who specialized in elevated comfort food, would be the one making our wedding feast.

The rooms, twenty-five in total, were all nature themed with individual names like the Rabbit’s Warren, the Crow’s Bauble, and the Owl’s Nest, done in a warm, inviting rustic colonial style—and, I was glad to see, not one scary, stuffed animal carcass in sight. Everything was vintage but artful, and once the cottage core crowd discovered this jewel in the middle of nature, the B&B was booked for more weddings than Noah could keep up with, sometimes two years in advance. Even though only a select number of people could stay here at once, it could go from being an intimate venue to a very large one with what could be done with all the outdoor space in every season. Dante and Noah owned twenty acres of what everyone called magical woods .

Staying at the B&B for vacations offered canoeing on the small lake, horseback riding, guides to take people out on the many hiking trails, and nature walks to see all kinds of flora and fauna.

Looking at it that day on the computer, I could tell Kurt was enchanted. I saw his eyes glaze over. We had been looking and finding nothing he liked in the city, and as the wedding date kept changing, whenever he found something he did like, it was already reserved for the foreseeable future. But now, somehow, Chris had called in a favor with Dante, who had purposely blocked out the time for me.

“I love this so much,” Kurt had whispered, looking at the outdoor arbor with the flakes falling like a giant snow globe.

“Ours would be in the fall, though. I refuse for our nuptials to bump up against the big holidays when no one can come, or worse, go into the next year.”

“Oh no, fall is the cutoff even if we say screw it and go see the justice of the peace.”

“We’re not doing that,” I promised, knowing how much a wedding in front of all our friends meant to him.

“So you’ll check with your friend about this lovely B and B?”

I didn’t correct him, because what was the point? Dante Cerreto was not my friend, Chris Mancuso was, but that meant nothing to Kurt.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Only Kurt could read the hesitancy on my face.

“George?”

Was Dante my friend? Could I call him that? What was funny was that thinking about it, the answer was yes. In life-and-death situations, people bonded fast.

“I’ll do it now,” I told him.

“Okay, good,” he said with a deep sigh.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

Kurt’s sister had told him in the summer that whatever she had to do to get her family to his wedding in the fall, she would make it happen. When I told her it would be the week before Thanksgiving, in Maine, she was beyond thrilled. When she saw the venue, she was even more excited, and so were the kids. I wanted to hug her so tight for keeping her word, even though I wasn’t surprised. She loved her brother dearly, but she was a bit fond of me as well.

One after another, everyone said yes, that of course they would be there, shuffling their whole lives to make time for me and Kurt. It was above and beyond, and I was struck that I was being prioritized. Having grown up alone, it meant the world that the family I found would happily show up for me. It was more than I could have ever asked for.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Ian’s words brought me out of my thoughts, back to the present, and I found myself at the sliding glass door, looking out at trees in shades of November as far as the eye could see.

“George?”

I met his gaze but couldn’t dredge up any words.

“Listen, you had a little excitement before the wedding, but everything’s fine now. No one wants to shoot you or any of your guests, the reception promises to be full of stories I can’t wait to hear, and if my boss either dances or does karaoke, I might die happy right there.”

He was trying to make me laugh, which was kind of him.

“I know what this is,” he said.

I waited, hoping he did because I myself had no clue.

“You’re worried you’re going to fuck this up.”

Sitting down, I wondered if that was true.

When the door opened and Chris walked in, I stared at him.

“There, see?” Chris said, stopping between the TV and the couch, doing a slow spin for us. “I clean up nice.”

He did, it was true. I had no idea about the transformative nature of a black suit before Chris Mancuso went from beach bum to James Bond with a mere change of clothes and a shave. I also suspected that the slicked-back hair was Jill’s doing.

“You look amazing. Truly.”

Instant scowl. “The hell is the matter with you?”

He knew me well.

“He’s worried he’s gonna fuck this up,” Ian explained, his voice catching for some reason.

Chris took a breath and crossed his arms, studying me. “The wedding or the marriage? Which one?”

“Both. Either.”

“The wedding won’t be perfect. It already isn’t,” Chris said with a shake of his head. “Let that shit go.”

He was right. “Fine. The marriage, then,” I stated after several moments, the fear like a hard ball in the pit of my stomach. “I mean, the fuck do I know about being married?”

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to know shit,” Chris assured me. “You just have to listen and think about your partner before you think about yourself.”

“That’s good. And make sure he knows you love him,” Ian chimed in. “You have a scary job, especially when you’re deployed. Tell him. Don’t ever leave the house without the yell.”

“What yell?”

“The I love you yell.”

“That’s a good one,” Chris granted. “Another is, don’t be a dick when you fight. There are no trophies for whoever was right, so don’t act like there are. Always ask yourself, would I rather get laid or would I rather be right?”

“This is not good advice.”

“It is,” he replied flatly.

“Yep,” Ian concurred. “Also, there should never be a time when you think, I’d rather be right. If you do, that’s the end. You have no idea how many breakups there were, before Miro, when the most important thing was to win.”

Chris grinned and then left the room.

“Where did he go?”

“To talk to Jill,” Ian said as he got up. “Just sit tight.”

“You’re leaving me?”

“I gotta go kiss my man,” Ian told me. “And maybe grope him a bit. Just like Chris is doing with Jill.”

“Why?” I asked right before he opened the door.

He turned back to look at me. “Don’t you want to kiss Kurt whenever you think about him or talk about him with other people?”

That was a no-brainer. “Yeah, of course.”

“Then you answered your own question,” Ian apprised me. “We’ll both be right back.”

I nodded.

“In the meantime, maybe look for your tie.”

“What?”

“Your tie, genius. Look for it while we’re gone. Maybe retrace your steps. It’s probably in the last place you sexed up your fiancé.”

It hit me then, and only then, that I did not, in fact, have my tie on.

“Fuck.”

Ian snickered.

“How the hell did you know I had sex?”

He shot me a look like I was stupid.

“I’ll find it,” I groused.

“See that you do.”

Fucking Ian.

Alone in my room, there was a knock on the door, and then Hannah poked her head in.

“Why is that open?” I asked her.

“The door?”

“Of course, the door.”

Her brows furrowed as she regarded me. “I can’t speak to why it’s open but when I passed Ian in the hall, he said it was.”

“What?”

“Ian said the door was—are you having some kind mental breakdown where you can’t process words?”

“What?” My voice rose that time.

“Do you need a cup of tea or something?”

“No, I don’t need a—what do you want?” I growled at her.

She chuckled and walked in, twirling when she was halfway to me, the floor-length vintage 1930s green silk velvet open-back gown swirling around her. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to throw flower petals all around because I’m going to walk down the aisle first.”

“Why did you change?” I said instead of how beautiful she looked.

“Excuse me?”

“You changed your dress.”

“Well, yes,” she said hesitantly, scowling.

“Why did you do that?”

“I’m standing up with you. I’m not gonna wear what everyone saw me in earlier.” After a moment she added, “Seriously, are you good?”

“Jing was excited you were wearing the same designer.” I sounded lame.

She squinted, looking concerned. “I’m sure me changing will make sense to her, but more importantly, I’m compelled to ask again, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I—I’m fine.”

“I mean, I love Jing, she’s fabulous, but why do you care what either of us is wearing?”

“I don’t. You just changed is all, and that threw me.”

“Threw you?” Her eyes widened and she appeared concerned.

“I just thought it was odd.”

“Okay.” She placated me.

“Stop looking at me like I’m nuts. And who said you could throw flower petals around?”

“Kurt.”

“He’s a sap.”

“He is,” she agreed. “Now come over here and hug me.”

“No.”

“Do it now so I know you love me even when you don’t say it and won’t confess it even under torture.”

“You shouldn’t joke about torture with black ops guys.”

She crossed her arms.

“What? You shouldn’t.”

“Listen, you have to come see me next weekend on my birthday.”

“Is it your birthday?” I baited her. “How old will you be?”

Heavy, exasperated huff of air from her because we both knew I knew the date and that she was turning twenty-one. “Stop it right now before you make me cry.”

My groan was loud, but I realized that important people in my life should know where they stood with me. Ian had made sure I knew he wanted us to be closer. I was taking Kurt with me to the next poker night, for heaven’s sake. “I’m not walking to you. You come here.”

It was very telling how quickly she rushed across the room to me. Grabbing her, I crushed her to my chest and held her tight. Her sigh was nearly a whimper.

“I’m gonna say this one time and never again,” I informed her.

“Okay. I’m ready. Go ahead.”

I wanted to tell her not to make such a big deal about words. What did words mean? My actions should have told her everything she needed to know about me and her and my heart. “You know I love you, don’t be an idiot.”

“No,” she murmured, hugging me back just as hard. “I won’t. I’ll know forever now.”

After a moment I said, “don’t make this weird.”

“Too late,” she teased me.

Kurt was in his sister’s room, and when I knocked, I was surprised he was the one who opened the door.

“Wow,” he said, looking me up and down. “You’re gorgeous.”

“You just saw me,” I said, chuckling. “And way more of me than this.”

“I did, yes,” he granted, and pulled my rolled-up tie from the pocket of his suit jacket.

“Oh, thank you,” I said with a relieved sigh.

“You’re very welcome,” he husked, and I noted that he was still wearing what would be my wedding ring.

“I didn’t tell you earlier, but you’re beautiful,” I told him from the heart.

His smile made his eyes gleam. “I need a promise.”

“Well, you’ll be getting a big one here in just a bit.”

“I need another.”

“Whatever you want.”

He cleared his throat. “You promise me now to always do everything in your power to come home to me, be it from work or when you’re deployed.”

“But I’ve already––”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But this is different. This is forever.”

Staring into his sweet eyes, I couldn’t immediately find the words to give him.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he confessed gruffly. “I need this.”

Knowing him as I did, I knew better than to ask him if he still wanted to marry me. He wasn’t going to change his mind. His love was far stronger than his fear.

I took a breath. “I promise to always do everything in my power to get home to you. It’s where I want to be more than anything.”

Long exhale from him and he quickly brushed away a couple of stray tears. “Good.”

We were quiet then, just standing together in the doorway.

“You know, I might have worked myself up to nearly puking, thinking about how much I want to marry you and how crazy it is at the same time.”

“Yeah. Because what the hell do you know about getting married?”

“That’s exactly right. Did you do that too?”

I laughed. “Maybe it’s a good sign that we’re both worried and neither of us wants to screw up.”

“It’s a very good sign,” he stated firmly. “And so you know, I can’t wait for you to wear your two rings together. I’m ridiculously excited.”

“And I can’t wait for you to wear yours, even though you should have diamonds too.”

“No,” he said with a smile, and I saw him shiver a bit. “Like I told you before, all I need is a plain thick band to tell everyone that I belong to you.”

“Which you do,” I said, leaning in.

He met me more than halfway. “We’re going to be great at this.”

And truly, I was betting on us.