Semper Mine (Sons of War #1)(66)

“We’ll see,” I reply. “It’ll depend on my schedule.”

They don’t seem too happy with that caveat. I can plan my career up to retirement but nothing outside. I’d like to say yes. I’m not about to give them false hope if Katya wants me gone for good.

“Are you going to see the animals?” Jenna asks.

“Yes.”

“We’ll go with you.” She takes my hand.

It still feels weird holding the soft, tiny hand of a kid. The three walk with me towards the petting zoo, stopping to marvel at the rabbits wearing Santa hats. I spot Riley, Petr, Carson and his plus one, and the small shape of Katya on the balcony. Her back is to me, and she’s wearing a maroon, crushed velvet dress that falls above her knees and a Santa hat.

Seeing her makes me want to hurry the kids. My gaze skims down her feminine shape. Warmth races within me.

It’s like I just saw her. No part of me believes it’s been a few months since we last interacted.

It’s not the sign I was hoping for. Or maybe it is. It’d be nice to have a conversation with her that doesn’t end in one of us upset. I don’t know if that’s possible when I always have such a strong reaction to her.

“Jacob, keep an eye on Jenna,” I say to the boy. “I’ve got to say hello to Ms. Khavalov.”

“Okay.”

I’m not certain he heard. His attention is on Christmas rats pulling a miniature sled. Not too concerned, I make my way to the group on the balcony overlooking a Christmas maze. My adrenaline is spiking the way it does in battle and around Katya.

“Hey, Sawyer.” Petr grins. “Good to see you.”

I nod and join the circle.

“I see they found you.” Riley indicates the spider.

“Yeah, they did.”

Katya is watching me. I glance at her.

Fuck me. She’s more beautiful every time I see her. I always tell myself I’m not going to let her gorgeous hazel eyes draw me in. And every time she does. Her delicate features are lightly flushed, her gaze unreadable. For the first time since meeting her, I have no f*cking clue where I stand.

“So you do like cookies,” she says. Her gaze is on the cookies on a napkin in my palm.

“We all live for cookies overseas,” Riley says and takes one of mine.

Her gaze sharpens. “Petr says you don’t. It’s why I stopped sending them.”

“I don’t like cookies,” Carson says.

She glares at him.

Carson steps back and grins. “I think I hear the cocoa calling me.”

“Ah … yeah. Maybe I don’t either.” Realizing his mistake, Riley replaces the half-eaten cookie on my napkin. “I think I need some cocoa, too.”

Katya raises an eyebrow at Petr, who is trying not to smile.

“So, ah, good to see you here, Sawyer,” he says while backpedaling. “I’m going to make a strategic retreat before my sister body slams me.”

All four of them escape, leaving me with Katya. She gazes up at me, and I can tell she’s as lost as I am right now.

“No one else will tell you this, but your cookies are terrible, Katya,” I tell her.

“Your text etiquette is worse! What is this, Sawyer?” She pulls her cell out and shows my message to me. “You don’t call, don’t text, don’t write …” She’s trying hard to keep the mood light and then flushes. “Well you did write, but …” She clears her throat.

“Want to start over?” I ask with a half smile.

“Yes.”

We gaze at one another in heavy silence. Any hope I had of not being attracted to her, of not thinking she was the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, vanishes when I’m standing before her again. From the plump lips to her flushed cheeks, I can’t stop scouring her features, trying to memorize them so next time, I’m not caught off guard by her looks.

“Do you want to have coffee or something?” I ask, unaccustomed to feeling so awkward around anyone.

“Yes,” she replies. “I, um, can’t now. I’ve got to keep an eye on this.” She motions to the club.

“Petr told me you set it up.”

“Do Marines like Christmas?” she asks archly.

“Yeah. And this is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it.” She smiles, pleased. “Maybe after this is over?”

“Sure.”

“Can I give you a time range or will that make your head explode?”

I laugh.

“I can text you.” There's an odd look on her features that I can’t read. “Are you staying at the house?”

“I am.”

“Good.” Her voice is soft. She’s staring at me. “I mean … better than destroying the environment driving somewhere in your truck.” Her blush is getting deeper. “Or something. You always do this to me, Sawyer.” Anger flares in her gaze. “You’re so calm! Just when I start to think …” With a sound of frustration, she moves away, thoroughly flustered.

Smiling, I watch her. She doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge me again.

For some reason, it makes me laugh. I have no idea what she started to say, but when Katya Khavalov is too emotional to talk, it means there’s something there.