Coming Home For Christmas

Anna’s entire world melted as his mouth slid and curved fully against hers, opening her, his tongue gliding along her lower lip, tasting her. His groan met and matched her own, and she sensed Kyle shift, pulling her hard against his body, his hand ranging across her shoulders, down her spine, trapping her hips against his erection.

It felt as if a bomb had gone off low and deep within her body as Kyle worshipped her lips and kissed the corners of her mouth, urging her to kiss him in return. And she did, her hands framing his face, her lips taking his, drowning in his male scent, the cold, fresh air and the swirling fragrance of pine encircling them.

Anna forgot about the snow melting against her face or the scattering flakes falling out of the strands of her hair. She forgot everything except Kyle as a man, a man she’d secretly loved all her life. His mouth took hers more gently now, rocking her lips open, moving his tongue inside, testing, tasting her. Her breath grew chaotic, fingers tight against his face. Anna couldn’t get enough of him.

As Kyle eased his fingers through her hair, sliding strands aside, he lifted his mouth from hers and pressed small, feathered kisses against her hairline, her brows and then across her closed eyelids. She could feel his breath against her skin, feel him reacquainting himself with every square inch of her flesh. Anna luxuriated in his surrounding her with his caresses, his care. Her heart exploded with love, the rippling effect moving through her, and she boldly pressed her hips against his, feeling his erection, wanting desperately to feel him inside her once more.

And as his kisses drifted near the lobe of her left ear, a little cry escaped her. Kyle knew how sensitive the region was in back of her ear, and even more so, her nape. His hand ranged across her hips, keeping her firmly against him, letting her know just how badly he wanted her. Her hair was swirling around her face as Kyle eased her forward until her head lay across his chest, her hand on his right shoulder as he teased and caressed her nape. More softened sounds, mewls of pleasure, tore out of her.

Slowly, so slowly, Kyle lightened his exploration and kisses across her slender neck and delicate ear. Easing up on his elbow, he cradled Anna in his left arm, staring down at her, raw need burning in his eyes for her alone.

Every female cell in her body took off in screaming need for Kyle. Her breath was choppy, her breasts rising and falling sharply against his chest. When he lifted his hand and gently tamed the ginger strands away from her face, he gave her a faint smile.

“It doesn’t seem like time means anything between us,” he rasped, smoothing a drop of water from melted snow from her brow.

Her heart was galloping in her chest. Anna couldn’t think. A mass of accumulated starvation. The ache for this man so extreme, she could give only a brief nod.

“Are you all right?” Kyle looked deeply into her dazed eyes. “Your head?”

Her head was the last thing Anna was thinking of right now. The stunning fireworks going off in her lower body held her attention. She was soaking wet between her thighs, and it had nothing to do with snow melting there. Kyle’s kiss had unlocked that door within her, and Anna understood the power of him as a man to trigger her into bright, burning life and need. “I—I’m okay...I think....” She managed a one-cornered smile, still lost in his turbulent, stormy gray gaze.

“That was one helluva surprise,” he murmured, giving her a slanted look. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“I didn’t either....” Anna closed her eyes, content to be exactly where she was—against Kyle.

“I’m not sorry, Anna. Are you?”

She barely shook her head, her hair mixed and coated with the snow.

“Come on,” Kyle urged her thickly, “we need to get you up and out of this snow before you get wet and chilled.”

Kyle gently eased her into a sitting position, stood up and then brought her slowly to her feet. He held on to her gloved hands, making sure she wasn’t dizzy or unstable. Before Anna could pull her hands from his, he began to carefully brush the snow from her dark strands. Standing so near to him, feeling his raw animal heat, sensing his care cascade over her—Anna absorbed it like the starving woman she was.

Kyle was so considerate, so careful with her. She had always felt worshipped by him. He loved her and she knew it. Right now, she’d accept secondhand love from this man because Anna had gone too long without him in her life. It was as if he were recharging her soul, allowing it to awaken once more, to dream, to want, to share with him again.

“There,” Kyle murmured. Satisfaction vibrated in his tones as he nudged the clean strands across her shoulder. “You’re snow free. You sure you’re okay?”

“Mmm, yes, fine...wonderful...” she whispered. Searching his eyes, Anna could see his love for her, and his lust. “I wish...”

“Wish what, angel?”

Anna quivered inwardly over the endearment. Ever since she could remember, Kyle had called her his guardian angel in this lifetime. “I wish...things were different....”

He cocked his head, staring at her. “In what way, Anna?”

Her throat tightened. Tears burned in the backs of her eyes. Swallowing, she said hoarsely, “That things were different between you and me, that’s all.” And if she didn’t pull away from Kyle right now, she was going to do the unthinkable: walk into his arms and never leave. But he would leave her. In less than thirty days. And Anna just couldn’t step across that chasm. Touching his jaw, she stepped back. “You’ve always known how to kiss me....”

He remained where he was, watching her, saying nothing. There was regret in Kyle’s gaze. Want. Desire. Lust. She was sure she had the same expression on her face. And then, he surprised her by stepping toward her, sliding his hands around her shoulders and holding her in place.

“We have to talk, Anna. There’s a lot that needs to be said. To be discussed. I was waiting for a time.” Kyle lifted her chin. “I was trying to wait until you felt better. When we weren’t so wary of one another...”

Anna didn’t try to fight his embrace. The gesture was of a man claiming his woman. And she didn’t know what Kyle’s end objective was. “We never had wariness with one another until after you left for the Navy.”

“Yes, it started then, Anna.” Kyle gave her a pained look, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, not trying to draw her any closer to him. Not trying to kiss her again. “I needed to see the world, angel. I felt tied down here in Montana. I didn’t want to be like my father and never have adventures outside the ranch.” His mouth drew into an unhappy slash as he looked above her head for a moment, trying to choose the right words. His gaze fell on hers. “Anna, this was never about you. You were the innocent victim in all of this. I didn’t mean to hurt you, angel. I swear to God, I didn’t. But I did and you can’t know how forever sorry I am about it.”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Don’t go there. There’s nothing to forgive, Kyle. I was too young to understand why you left. But later, I did. I realized you needed to see the world, experience life, live it. I got it. I really did.” Tears slipped from her eyes. She saw Kyle’s face crumple. He never could handle her tears.

He swept her into his arms, crushing her, his face buried against her hair. Giving a broken cry, Anna collapsed against him, her arms slipping around him, their hearts beating frantically against one another. He smelled of sweat, of male, of pine, and Anna dragged it into her nostrils, drinking Kyle into her in every possible way. She could feel the tension rise in him, the tightness of his shoulders, holding her close, as if to somehow protect her with his large body. The sensation was exquisite. Exactly what Anna needed.

Tears continued to stream down her face unchecked. She cried for the loss of two babies from her miscarriages; she cried for herself when Tom had beaten her; and she cried for the loss of Kyle she knew was coming. He was going to break her heart once more. A heart that had ever loved only him.

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE TIME they reached home with two Scotch pines in the back of the pickup truck, Anna had developed a blinding headache. Kyle worriedly glanced at her from time to time as he drove slowly toward the ranch. She’d become withdrawn and pale, tipping her head against the headrest. Her eyes were closed.

Had it been their blazing kiss, clinging to one another? As if to let go meant they’d never see one another again? Had her crying brought it on? God, he didn’t know what to do when Anna cried. Kyle felt so damned helpless. He was a SEAL. He fixed things. That was his job. But damned if he could fix a woman’s tears. And she’d wept after kissing him. Why?

The questions jammed in his throat like bitter brew, and Kyle knew this wasn’t the time to ask her anything. More than likely, Anna was upset over their unexpected kiss. They eventually had to face the end of this thirty-day emergency leave. He had to return to his SEAL platoon in Afghanistan.

When they arrived at the ranch, Jepson met them with two wranglers. Together, the three men took the trees into the buildings. Kyle had wanted to be with Anna, but she’d slipped out of the truck and gone straight into the house, telling him she was going to go lie down.

When Kyle had gotten the tree ready for decoration in the corner of the room, it was nearly 6:00 p.m. The winter night had closed in quickly, and he’d built a roaring fire that would keep the entire ranch house heated.

He kept his hearing focused in case Anna was awake. He wanted to be with her. Kyle knew if he could hold her, she would feel better. It had always been that way between them. Frustrated, he got rid of his hat and gloves. Hanging his damp jacket on a wooden peg near the front door, he rolled up the sleeves on his chambray shirt and went to work in the kitchen. Kyle made a point of fixing three meals a day for Anna. She was eating better, and he wanted her to regain that lost weight. Looking through the refrigerator and cupboards, he found enough items to make a hearty shepherd’s pie.

It was near 8:00 p.m. when Kyle heard the door to Anna’s room open. He stopped himself from going into the hall to meet her. Sensing she needed some space, Kyle instead set the oak table for dinner.

Anna appeared.

“Hey,” he called softly, setting down the flatware, “how are you feeling?” She looked wan, her eyes dark.

“Better,” she mumbled. Walking slowly, Anna used her hand against the black granite island to steady herself. Motioning wearily toward her head, she said in a quiet tone, “My concussion. The doctors said I could get terrible headaches out of the blue.” She grimaced. “They were right.”

“Have a seat,” Kyle urged, pulling out the chair for her. Anna was clearly unsteady, and he held out his hand toward her. She took it, her fingers feeling cool and clammy.

“Thanks.”

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Just water.”

“How about some aspirin?”

“No, docs said to stay away from them for now. The pain is pretty much gone, Kyle. I just feel bruised and beaten up, is all.”

Grimacing, Kyle got her a glass of water. “You look pretty pasty.”

Anna took the glass. “I feel pasty.”

Kyle watched her take slow sips of the water. She used both hands to hold the glass. “I had a SEAL buddy of mine get traumatic brain injury when an IED went off too close to him. He had a helluva lot of symptoms like you do. His headaches were so bad they made him cry.”

“Yes,” Anna said, lifting her eyes to him, “that’s about right. I feel for him. Is he better now?”

Shrugging, Kyle shoved on a pair of mitts and opened the oven door. “Chuck is stateside and still doing a lot of physical therapy. I don’t get to email him often because the team and I are usually out on patrols.”

He pulled out the shepherd’s pie and placed it on a metal trivet on the table. Anna lifted her head and sniffed the fragrant meal. There was an appreciative expression on her face.

“Smell good to you?” he asked. Opening the oven again, Kyle retrieved some French bread wrapped in foil. Earlier, he’d sliced and placed garlic salt with butter between each slice.

“Yes, it does.” Anna smiled wanly. “You’re a really good cook, do you know that?”

He grinned and opened the foil up and placed the sliced bread in front of her plate. “I’m no five-star chef, angel, but I’m happy if you eat, that’s all.”

Reaching for the large spoon, Anna placed some of the pie on her plate. Kyle had mashed potatoes, whipped them up and covered the top of the pie with them. The top was a light golden brown, cooked to perfection. She picked up Kyle’s plate and added three heaping scoops onto it. “Funny, but I am hungry. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”

Sitting down next to her, Kyle didn’t want to go into any heavy topics tonight with Anna. She ate quite a bit and he felt heartened. After dinner, he cleared away the dishes.

“I didn’t make dessert,” he said. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” She turned and gazed at the tree. “It looks nice over there, Kyle. Did Jepson get the other tree into the wranglers’ bunkhouse?”

Bringing over coffee, he set a mug in front of her. “Yes. I asked him where the decorations for your tree were and he said he didn’t know.”

“They’re in my closet.” She wrapped her hands around the warm mug. “Do you remember every year how our parents would gather out here at the table? You’d pull out the colored construction paper? Cut it up for our paper loops? And I’d get out the glitter and glue gun?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, lots of good times, good memories.”

“I still do the same thing today.” She gave him a fond look, watching his reaction.

“Seriously?”

“Sure. Why not? I’ve kept all our decorations over the years. And every year I hang them up. I make a bowl of fresh popcorn and string it, plus I make new paper chains.”

His face softened as he reconnected with those times from their mutual past.

“So that’s what we’ll do tomorrow? Make paper chains and string popcorn?”

“Yep, plus hang on the tree all the old ornaments we’ve made over the years.”

Shaking his head, he gave her a grin. “I didn’t know you kept up that family tradition.”

“I remember each of those decorations we made, Kyle. We’d sign the back of them. Our name, the date and year.”

“Yeah...”

“You’re giving me a funny look. There’s nothing wrong with keeping mementos from the past. Especially if they’re from good times.”

He pushed his fingers through his short black hair. “You’re right, Anna.” He leaned to one side, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. Opening it, he carefully pulled out a folded item. He pushed it toward her. “Check this out.” His eyes darkened.

Gently picking up the folded piece of white construction paper, she gasped. “Oh, my God! This is the angel I made when I was seven years old, Kyle!” The edges were torn and frayed. The white paper had faded to yellow. All the gold glitter that had once been on the wings and halo had long ago been rubbed off.

Anna remembered painstakingly making it. As she turned it over, her fingers trembled. Emotion roared through her as she saw her name scrawled on the back of it, the month and the year. Swallowing hard, she whispered, “You’ve kept this all this time?” She held his soft gray gaze.

“The last Christmas we had together? Seven years ago? When we were hanging them on the tree? Instead of hanging it up, I slipped it into my billfold.”

“But...why?” Anna stared down at the poor, tattered thing that had seen better days.

Shrugging, Kyle admitted, “I wanted to take a part of you with me, Anna. Maybe because it had your energy, your love in it... I don’t know. I always put it in a plastic Ziplock bag and tucked it into the pocket of my Kevlar vest when I went out on a patrol. I always believed you were my guardian angel and I wanted to take you with me into battle.”

“I—I didn’t know...” Her voice dropped to an aching whisper as she held it gently between her hands. Her lower lip trembled.

“One time? I forgot to put it into my vest. We went out on an op and I got shot in the right calf.”

“Oh, God, Kyle—”

He held up his hands. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m fine now. A hundred percent, okay? Wipe the worry off your face?”

Sitting back, Anna cradled the angel in her hands.

“You are always with me, Anna.” Kyle felt emotions rising swiftly in him. He forced himself to smile, but it was a poor attempt. What he wanted to do was hold her. Kiss the hell out of her again. See her smile once more. Hear that husky laugh of hers, which always sent riffles across his flesh.

Nodding, she carefully handed it back to him, their fingers briefly touching. “I’m glad to know this. Did you ever marry, Kyle?”

“No.” He saw her perplexed look. “Look, I knew in our business getting married wasn’t an option. And you were smart enough at twenty-two not to say yes to me even though I wanted to marry you, Anna. I kept seeing SEAL marriages fall apart, one after another. They have a ninety percent divorce rate, so I steered clear. I never got serious with a woman after you. I didn’t want to lead her on.” He had plenty of one-night stands, but Kyle wasn’t going there with Anna. All it would do was hurt her, and he’d hurt her enough already.

“That was good of you to tell me that,” she admitted quietly, sipping her coffee. “I knew I couldn’t handle you being in danger all the time, Kyle. It would have killed me.”

“You’re a big worrywart,” he teased gently. “I understand now. Back then, at twenty-two, I didn’t.”

“I hurt you badly by turning you down,” she choked. “I always felt horrible about it.”

Kyle reached out and captured her fingers. “It was the smartest thing you could have done, Anna. And like you said, we had to grow up and mature a little in order to know you did the right thing for both of us. I was kind of blind, deaf and dumb at that time.” Blindly in love with her. But he always had been.

“I still feel that way at times.”

“What? When you married Tom?”

Anna gave him a painful shrug and couldn’t meet his eyes. Unconsciously, she rubbed her nose. “He walked into my life six months after you proposed to me. Looking back on it, Kyle, I should have realized I was on the rebound from you.” She moved her finger around on the wooden table, drawing circles. “I wanted to settle down, have a family. I so desperately wanted to have what my parents had with me coming into their lives. We had been so happy as a family....”

Kyle frowned. “Anna, I don’t want you getting another headache because we’re getting into some serious talks here.”

“My headache is gone.” She managed a faint smile. “I wasn’t very good at picking the right man, Kyle. I thought I loved Tom.” Her voice trailed off. “I wanted kids so desperately. I got pregnant right away and then miscarried the second month. Tom blamed me.”

“For what?” Kyle demanded, confused. “You can’t make your body miscarry.”

“That’s what I told him. I got pregnant nine months later, and by the third month I miscarried again. I was devastated. I thought there was something wrong with me.” She gently touched her belly.

“And where was Tom in all of this?”

“Angry. That’s when he accidentally found all those letters and emails you’d written to me when you first joined the Navy. He accused me of loving you, instead. That because I loved you, I miscarried his children.”

“That’s a crock of bull,” Kyle ground out, flexing his fingers into a fist and then forcing himself to relax.

“Things sort of fell apart between us after that. It wasn’t a marriage anymore. Just two people living together, but unhappy.”

“Why didn’t you email me, Anna?”

She gave him a sad look. “And what good would that have done? If Tom had found me emailing you, he’d have—well—he was violent and I didn’t want to stir up trouble.”

Giving her a sharpened look, he asked, “What do you mean he was violent, Anna?”

She felt the tension rise between them. Kyle’s face had gone stony and still, his gray eyes narrowing on her. Opening her hand, she said, “He had a terrible temper. I didn’t know it when I first married him. I only found out about it...later.”

With a hiss, Kyle gripped her hand firmly. “Look at me.”

Anna held his intense stare. She felt his hand warm and gentle around her coolish one. “What?”

“Your nose, Anna. How did it get broken?”

The rasp in his voice was deadly and sent a shiver down through her. Unable to look away, she said, “Tom hit me one night.” She pulled her hand free of his, tucking it protectively in her lap. “I went to the police that night after it happened, Kyle. I pressed assault charges against him and they threw him in jail.” She touched her nose. “I was scared, but my parents and your parents backed me up. They surrounded me, protected me and helped me through that period of my life. My father fired Tom. He was sent to prison for a year. When he got out, he left for Texas. He signed the divorce papers and I was free.” She gave him an uneasy look. “It’s not something I’m proud of. I made so many mistakes.”

Kyle sat there wrestling with his rage over what had been done to Anna. “I wish... I wish you’d told me,” he managed tightly.

“And what could you have done, Kyle?” She searched his angry eyes, saw the fury in the line of his thinned mouth. “You were somewhere. God only knows where. We weren’t married. There was no legal tie between us, except that you’re my emergency contact. The SEALs wouldn’t have let you come home.” Her voice grew thin with weariness. “I managed to get through it. I had asked your parents to not email you anything about it because I knew it would upset you. And I didn’t want you distracted and maybe get you killed. That’s why I never said anything to you about it.”

Kyle looked away, his gut churning. His mother had emailed him about her divorce, but he didn’t want to bring it up right now. “God, Anna. I wish... I wish I’d been there.” And he didn’t finish the rest of the sentence that if he’d married her at twenty-two, this would never have happened. Because he loved her and would never hurt Anna. He’d never lift a hand to harm her. Ever.

* * *

“YOU START CUTTING up the construction paper for the paper chains,” Anna told Kyle the next evening. Today the sun had shown up after the blizzard, and Kyle had been out working all day until dusk with the wranglers, getting hay to the five thousand Herefords on the ranch. He’d come in just before dinner, taken a shower and changed clothes, and Anna made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.

He sat down, picking up the scissors after rolling up the cuffs on his red flannel shirt to his elbows. “And you’re going to string the popcorn, I hope?” He held up his hand, showing how large it was compared with hers.

Kyle had seen a marked change in Anna this morning at breakfast. It was as if getting to talk out her toxic marriage had somehow helped her. Tonight, her ginger hair was tied in a loose knot at the back of her head and she’d put some plastic mistletoe in it to look festive. He liked the gold velour sweater she wore with her jeans and bright red fluffy slippers with Frosty the Snowman on her feet. In the past, Kyle remembered Anna always dressed up for Christmas decoration night.

She wore pink lipstick and her cheeks were tinged nearly the same color. Even her eyes sparkled, although Kyle missed the gold flecks he used to see in their depths. Still, Anna was happier than he’d seen her since coming home. He knew how much Christmas meant to her. It meant the same to him.

“Yes, I’ll save you from a fate worse than death,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll string the popcorn. You just cut, glue and make the paper chains.”

He liked sitting across from Anna. She was quick and efficient with thread, needle and popcorn. Soon, she had ten-foot-long chains lying out in neat order across the length of the table. Kyle was clumsy in comparison, but he knew how to cut the colorful paper into half-inch strips and then use the glue gun to create the chains. Within an hour they had enough to encircle the tree.