Chapter 10

* * *

GIDEON

Gideon looked up to see Christina emerge from the bathroom dressed in flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt with her blonde hair piled into a loose bun at the back of her head. This woman before him was so incredibly appealing to him that she would stand out in a room full of lingerie models regardless of what she had on. His eyes would always land on her. There was just something about her that called to him, and if his mother ever heard him admit that, she'd be all over him again about grandchildren.

"Is this okay?"

"You set the rules, remember?"

"You keep saying that, but we have to live together. I don't want to cross a line with you or make you uncomfortable."

"That line is only there for your comfort – not mine."

There was no malice, no pressure in his words. It was just a simple statement between them, signifying their easy relationship and camaraderie as friends. There had always been almost an instant ease for them, and he assumed it was because of his growing crush on her. There were other signs popping up between them that he was trying to decipher and failing. The way she looked at him, how she treated him, the things she said or did, and he almost asked if something more was going on but was afraid of her answer.

Instead, she sat beside him in the one place where they could sit easily – the bed. There wasn't enough room in the small cabin for a couch and the recliner would not hold two without putting them practically against each other. While that suited him just fine, he was pretty sure it would put his new bride, who'd never been kissed, quite on edge.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

They sat there quietly, watching the TV. He wasn't paying attention to what was on the screen in the slightest and wondered if she was. He was sitting there; legs outstretched before him and barefoot. He was wearing a clean T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, holding his cup of tea atop a pillow that was sitting across his lap. Looking at her carefully, trying not to be noticed, he held back a sigh.

His bride.

This was not the wedding night he had ever anticipated,he thought dejectedly and looked at her out of the corner of his eye, only to see her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together. She looked to be concentrating on the television show that was currently on and didn't want to bother her. Before long, another episode began playing and still neither said a word. As the third episode began, Christina sighed heavily and stretched.

"I think I'm going to turn in," she said quietly… and his heart did a somersault in his chest, wondering if this was an unspoken invitation to him. She rolled over and pulled the covers over her, facing away from him.

Nope.

No invitation there.

Grabbing the remote, he turned off the television and the lights using the switch beside his head on the wall, sending the room into darkness. Lying down, he laced his fingers on his chest and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

"Good night, Gideon," Christina finally said softly, and he rolled his eyes before closing them. Yup. Nothing was happening this evening or any, anytime soon.

"Sweet dreams, Christina. I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

This same routine continued for several weeks.

Each day, it started the same.

They would get up, and he would kiss her ‘good morning' – and she seemingly responded. They would both be breathless from it, and her eyes made every ounce of him sit up and take notice but as the day wore on, things grew more distant, more tense between them.

Max and Daphne seemed to have worked out things between them because the man who had almost died weeks ago was on the rebound physically and obviously in love with Daphne. His lack of a leg after the amputation wasn't a hindrance to their relationship, and the two seemed to almost have a brutally candid way of talking to each other. Daphne wasn't afraid to tell him it was his head that was messed up, not his leg – and he'd seen Max snap right back at her for it. Yet, after the blizzard they'd had a week ago, things were different between the duo.

Max and Daphne got closer.

Jake and Lena were getting married in the morning.

And Gideon was in a very platonic relationship with a woman he adored, unable to figure out how to get past that ‘bump in the road' between them. He watched her when she slept, memorized the way she would smile at those infernal cows that stunk to high heaven, and was always reaching for her hand, wanting to make her smile, yet she kept withdrawing. He wanted to hold her, to touch her, to show her what she meant to him. Every time he got close, it was like she would run away mentally and emotionally.

Sleeping next to her was torture.

Gideon had never imagined himself as a ‘cuddler' or ‘wanting to spoon' – but my goodness, he wanted to wrap himself around Christina in a massive hug and hold her all night long. One leg nudged between hers, an arm around the waist she could use his other for a pillow, and he wanted to bury his nose against her shoulder blades for all time.

"Oh man…" he uttered under his breath, closing his eyes. Was this what it was like to fall in love with someone? How come the other guys seemed to be having such an easy time, and he felt like a failure? He was married to Christina first, but obviously, he was doing something wrong for their relationship.

And tomorrow, seeing Jake and Lena getting married should be a tender reminder of their own wedding. Somehow, Gideon knew that seeing it would only drive that wedge further between them. He needed a break, someone to talk to, or a miracle.

"I can't lose her before we've had a chance to get started," he whispered to the silence as he finished spreading the hay for the horses.

* * *

As if Gideon's own self-doubts and fears didn't plague him enough, Karma had to step forward and show him his backside. They had all gotten ready for Ortega and Lena's wedding, stopping on the way back to the cabin to pick up a few other people. They had taken the massive cargo van and as they pulled up to a remote airstrip, he expected the excitement to come from Lena at seeing her sister again.

Not his wife.

"Oh my gosh!" Christina exclaimed excitedly, leaning forward and yanking on the door handle quickly. Both she and Lena bolted from the van, leaving Gideon sitting there in shock. Ortega was chuckling, talking to Max, who also looked thrilled at the company that had shown up to celebrate – yet Gideon had the urge to destroy something as he saw Christina running up to a man, throwing her arms around him and hugging him.

"Dude, she looks happy to see that guy…"

"Shut up."

"You know who that is right?"

"What part of ‘shut up' did you not comprehend?"

From his vantage point, Christina was smiling, laughing, and hugging the man she obviously knew. His wife looked exceedingly comfortable and affectionate, which rubbed him completely the wrong way. The man was smiling at her, nodding, and hugged her again – and that was enough for him!

He cursed angrily, gathering his crutches and climbing out of the van… only to see the duo walking toward them. Christina looked shocked to see him coming for her – and glanced between Gideon and the newcomer, which incensed a jealous streak he didn't know he had.

"You can just sit on a bench with your old buddy," he snapped hotly, making her draw back in shock as the other man frowned. The soldier extended his hand toward Gideon – and he ignored him, turning to climb back into the back of the van. He took a seat beside Daphne, ignoring the glare Max gave him. That left two open benches for Lena's sister, her husband, and a young boy and plenty of space for Christina to sit with whoever this newcomer was.

"What's your problem?" Christina snapped hotly – and the man laid a hand on her shoulder, whispering to her.

Gideon could hear the steam exiting his body from every hole in his blasted head like a steam whistle on a locomotive. Did this camo-wearing-fool not know how perilously close he was to needing surgery to remove Gideon's crutches from his body physically.

"I," Gideon said softly, looking at her and stretching his arm over the back of the seat where Christina and Max were sitting. "I do not have a problem in the slightest."

Houghton chuckled, Jill gave him a confused look, Lena was staring at him like he'd grown a second head, Daphne was completely ignoring him… and Christina looked so angry at him that he briefly wondered if she would attempt to throttle him.

"C'mon, Chris," the newcomer said.

"Her name is Christina Beck," Gideon said bluntly.

"I know what her name is soldier…"

"Do not call me…"

"Enough guys," Ortega interrupted, grinning wildly. "While I love to see a pissing contest as much as the next red-blooded man, can you please put a stop to it? I literally just got married and want to savor this for a bit before I go jumping into some butt-kicking contest for giggles."

"There's no contest," Gideon said flatly, not looking away from the other man, who simply lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

"No, there sure isn't."

"Logan, don't egg him on, brother," Houghton chuckled. "Get in the van, and you know this routine like the back of your hand."

"Yes, I do."

"No routine – and there is sure no contest."

"Enough out of you too, Beck," Houghton snapped, looking thoroughly amused. "Jill, let's head home before we have a catfight in the van."

Gideon did not look away from the other man named Logan as they climbed in the van. Logan took the seat furthest away from Gideon, and he wondered if the man was scared. He wasn't a small man and had been known to stop a fight several times by simply getting in the middle of it. When you towered over a wimp and were at least fifty to seventy pounds heavier than them – and it was all muscle – things tended to wrap up quickly. No, he wasn't afraid to get dirty in the slightest, but this man was obviously wanting to avoid a confrontation for Christina's sake.

The two had their heads bent together, talking the entire ride home. His temper was simmering like a volcano ready to blow and had never felt so threatened or possessive as he did right now. No, this was not cool in the slightest and went against every unspoken ‘bro-code' in the military, making him wonder if this fool actually was in the Army or if he was a ‘wannabe' simply donning the uniform to pick up women.

If he was, he'd be buried in it too, Gideon thought hotly. Seventeen years serving Uncle Sam only to get medically discharged three years before retirement, and his pension really chapped his hide. Yeah, he had a bone to pick with anyone who wasn't willing to put in the blood, sweat, or tears for their country.

An hour later, Gideon was still steaming.

Christina was avoiding him.

There was no doubt about it. She was sitting at the opposite end of the table talking with Logan, Max, Houghton, and Ortega. That was fine. Two could play this game. Gideon took a seat beside Daphne.

"Hey," he said simply.

"Hey yourself," Daphne replied, looking miserable and staring at Max in the distance. As the men started laughing again wildly, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes, Christina's eyes met his, and he didn't back down. He sat there looking at her, waiting for any indication that she wanted to talk to him, to sit near him, and a part of him died as she looked away.

"What's going on with you two?"

"Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing."

"Why are you sitting here instead of sitting beside Max?"

"No reason."

"Uh, huh. My nothing and your no-reason, eh?" Gideon muttered under his breath, not looking away from where his wife was sitting, ignoring him.

‘Oh Morrison…? I found your pet, and Fido wants to go for a walk,' Max was laughing wildly, pointing at Ortega. "Remember him saying that?"

"Remember he named the thing Fido?" Ortega chuckled, causing all of them to laugh once more as Christina leaned toward Max. Gideon's entire being tensed, ready to jump forward as she leaned over to whisper something to him.

Christina then flashed Max a smile, laughing aloud as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. Gideon's nose flared as his vision darkened, on the edge of sanity as Christina laughed again and playfully slapped Max on the arm. She never did that to him. His conscience screamed in outrage.

"Hey, Collins," Logan interrupted. "I brought your things from Afghanistan instead of shipping them. Got a second?"

"Yes!" Max said quickly, shooting out of his seat. He followed that ‘blow-hard' Logan out into another room. Moments passed, and Max walked back in, with a military grade duffel bag strapped to his shoulders… and looked at Gideon.

"Gideon," Max blurted out flatly. "Go sit by your own wife. Get away from mine, buddy."

You could have heard a pin drop at the silence that descended. Daphne sitting beside Gideon let out her breath as her mouth dropped open. The woman seemed to bloom at Max showing a bit of dominance or possession, causing him to look at Christina.

Gideon met her eyes and saw her chin lift slightly, as he rose from his seat. He walked toward her, not breaking the shared gaze across the room. As he got closer, he edged his crutch and his body pointedly between Logan and Christina, looking down at his wife. That was his wife, and he was going to make sure she knew it, ignoring Houghton and Logan's chuckle from behind him.

"Get up," he said quietly.

"No."

"Christina, don't make me ask you again."

"Don't act like my husband when you haven't acted like it yet," Christina hissed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she glared at him.

"Chris," Logan interrupted. "Go."

Gideon turned on the man – who immediately held up his hands quickly in mock surrender, smirking. "I'm only trying to help, buddy… she's my wife's cousin and stubborn as heck. It's a family trait, and Juliet gives me fits sometimes."

Wait, what?

This was Christina's cousin by marriage?

Logan looked at him – and nodded slowly, not blinking an eye. The other man knew he was jealous and understood.

"Keep it in check, stay calm, and listen at this point," Logan said in a very hushed whisper, not looking away from him. "The Bradley women are very independent but worth the fight, brother."

Gideon extended a hand toward him, feeling embarrassed he'd ignored it earlier. The other man clasped his hand firmly, shaking it and chuckled before leaning forward knowingly.

"You better go get her."

Gideon looked over his shoulder at Christina's seat to see that it was empty – and started walking as fast as possible with his crutches out the back of the house. He looked at their cabin and saw movement out of the corner of his eye in the distance. His head snapped in that direction like a predator scenting its prey and smiled. She went to hide in the barn among her precious cows.

Let her think she's got the upper hand, he mused, walking slowly toward the barn. Let her calm down because I've got some apologizing to do, and we are going to have a serious discussion about our marriage.

As he got to the barn door, he heard the animals responding to her. Christina had such a tender heart that he knew automatically what she was doing. She was probably petting their faces like a beloved pet, talking to them, and trying to unwind, and all of this was good.

Sliding open the barn door just enough to allow himself to enter, he slowly closed it – and slid his crutch through the large iron handle that was big enough to handle a four-by-six piece of lumber. He didn't say a word, simply moving down the slight walkway where it would open into the massive barn, knowing almost instinctively where she would be. Rounding the corner, he ducked as a pile of cow poop came flying at his head – and stuck to the wooden board of the wall behind him.

"Seriously?" he gaped, shocked that his little wife had thrown that at him with zero hesitation. Christina was standing there, her chest heaving and her eyes blazing in frustration. "You missed."

She made a noise, bent over, and picked up another lump, flinging it at him with more accuracy than Nolan Ryan of the Texas Rangers. Gideon barely ducked out of the way of that one, fighting back a laugh. If he thought he had a temper, it was nothing compared to the fierceness on display before him.

"You don't get to act possessive or jealous when you simply do not care!" she snarled hotly.

"What makes…" – and ducked again. "What makes you think that?"

"You do!"

"Can we stop with the throwing manure at my head – please?"

"No!"

"We need to talk…" he began and jumped quickly to the right, angling his hips to the side to narrowly avoid being pelted directly in the groin. "Hey now, let's go back to aiming for the head."

"Why?!" she snarled. "You aren't using it – and if you are, then you definitely need to be socked there!"

And it hit him like a ton of bricks.

His wife was not only jealous but violently upset that he hadn't made love to her yet. She was the one controlling things, the one setting the rules and making the decisions. He had promised not to touch her – and kept his promise – and now she was mad?

"I believe in fidelity and haven"t slept with anyone in almost a year. I wish I could tell you that I came into our marriage untouched, but I do have a past," he admitted quietly, not looking away from her as her angry stance faltered. His spitfire wife was standing there, wearing gloves, and holding another pile of offal to lob at him. "Can we talk?"

"Maybe you should go talk to Daphne," she snapped – but didn't let ‘nature's bomb' fly.

"I'm not married to Daphne, nor do I want to talk to her. I want to talk to you – my wife."

"You could have fooled me…"

"I was jealous," he confessed and saw Christina falter once more as her lips parted in surprise. "I fully admit that I was jealous seeing you hug Logan, and I had no idea it was your cousin – but that is my fault, too. I didn't ask. I just assumed it was an old boyfriend of yours."

"Ugh," Christina shivered and made a face, making Gideon supremely happy at her reaction. "He's like a weird brother, and sometimes I don't know how Juliet puts up with him. Why would you assume something so asinine as that?"

"Because you looked happier to see him than you have been with me," he blurted out hoarsely, and those words seemed to take the air out of the room as they stared at each other. "I'm sorry. Things have been so tense between us, and I thought it was the sleeping arrangements, then I thought it was the stress of your paper, and now I'm wondering if it"s me," he continued thickly, taking a step toward her and ignoring the pain in his soul. "Christina, I only want us to be happy, and if it's me that is making you miserable then…"

"It's not you," she interrupted emotionally, staring at him… and let the filth drop from her hand onto the hay-strewn floor. "I j-just," she stammered, hesitating, her chin trembling with emotion. "I just didn't feel like I mattered, or maybe I wasn't worth the bother because I wouldn't sleep with you."

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathed painfully. "You matter. You are everything, and I haven't pressed myself on you because I want you to trust me, to care for me, and…"

"I do care…"

Those single broken words uttered between them meant so much, and he could feel himself tearing up almost as much as she seemed to be.

"I care too… can you take off the gloves?" he laughed tearfully. "I'm going to hug you whether you are ready for it or not."

"Can you kiss me?" she wept tearfully, yanking off the filthy gloves as he crossed three stalls to her in less than a second, crushing his lips against hers as he pulled her into his arms.

Christina kissed him passionately, practically climbing up his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he laughed. It was so wonderful to feel her close to him again, and he needed this simple affection so much, just anything to show her what she meant to him. He didn't bother fighting back the tears as he whispered against her hair.

"Sweetheart, I don't ever want us fighting. A part of me dies inside when we argue…"

"Me too," she admitted softly. "I like you calling me ‘sweetheart'…"

"I like saying it, because you are mine – and I'm never letting you go," he said tenderly and threw down his crutch, walking on his cast. "I love you, Christina, and if I'm an overbearing twerp, just say something to me." Her tearful laughter was the balm his soul needed as he carried her back to one of the stalls.

"What are we doing?"

"Taking advantage of the silence…" He didn't want anything to interrupt this fragile peace between them. He wanted to hold her close, talk, kiss, and take some photos of them as a couple on his phone so he could text them to his family – and in essence, he wanted them to become a true couple, a loving couple. "We're finally talking more than we have in a week – and I've missed you."

He set her down in the empty horse stall where he'd put fresh hay earlier and looked at her.

"This is where you are comfortable, where your beloved cows are, and I just want us to hold each other and talk," he began, taking her hand and moving to sit down on the hay. "Do you mind?"

"Here? You want to cuddle and keep talking here?"

"Is that okay?"

"Won't someone come in here and think we're doing something?"

"They can think what they want – and no. I blocked the door with my other crutch. Can I just say that I am so ready for this thing to get cut off of me in a week," he smiled tenderly at her and patted the hay beside him. "C'mon, and let's pretend it's just us – forever."

Christina stood there, looking at him, and hesitated, meeting his eyes.

"No."