Semper Mine (Sons of War #1)(74)

I love her fire. It moves me in ways that are too primal to name, compels me to take her in my arms and temper those flames with some hot sex. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m deciding which ones to take with me.”

“Where?”

“What do you mean, where?” She faces me, puzzled. “Where do you go after Iraq?”

“Quantico.” I start to smile. “That’s not for four months.”

“It’ll take me that long to pick them out.”

“So … you were quiet because you were thinking of what shoes to bring?” I ask doubtfully.

“No. I had to remember where I put these.” A flash of defiance crosses her face. She places a set of white shoes on the counter and plants her hands on her hips.

I wait for her explanation, leery of the kind of dare someone like Katya can throw down.

“I was thinking that these are the shoes I’m wearing to the wedding.” The challenge on her face tells me she’s waiting for me to squirm.

“I know nothing about shoes, but they look nice,” I reply calmly. “You have a date picked out?”

“June third.”

“Guest list?”

“Twenty people, give or take.”

“Dress?”

“I’ll hire someone.”

“Honeymoon destination?”

“Seychelles.”

“Does your groom get to vote on that?” I ask.

“Nope. And I want three kids.” She’s glaring at me, getting irritated, upping the ante, expecting me to flinch.

You won’t win this one. “Two and a dog.” I’m struggling to stay stoic. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach is gone, replaced by lightness and hope I’ve never experienced.

Pursing her lips, she falls quiet, frustrated with me.

I hold her gaze. “You know Marines don’t live in castles like this.”

“I don’t care.”

“And that I’ll be in the middle of a war you don’t agree with?”

“I beat you there!” she exclaims triumphantly.

“How so?”

“You go off to war and break people. I use my charity to fix their lives when they get back.” There’s a light in her eyes that tells me she’s found her calling.

“So we’re good,” I assess, unable to help my smile. I’m fairly certain it’s the only middle ground we’ll ever reach on the issue of war.

Her hands drop to her sides. She approaches me, a familiar glimmer in her eyes as she takes in my bare chest. When she’s close enough, she reaches out and runs her hands down my shoulders.

I drape my arms around her, clasping my wrists at the small of her back. She seems pensive once more as her palms trace the muscles of my upper body.

“I figured we could have coffee. Talk things through,” I say, tilting her chin up to see her gorgeous eyes. “Get to know each other better. Though I told you more about my background than anyone else knows.”

She smiles. “I think I know what I need to. The rest we’ll learn together.”

“So do you want to be mine or not?” I challenge.

Taking my face in her hands, Katya kisses me with her usual passion. I hold her while we kiss slowly, leisurely, taking the time to savor her taste and the velvety depths of her mouth.

“You know I do, Sawyer.” She drops back onto her heels, gaze on me. “But I do have one question.”

“Shoot,” I reply. “Ask me anything.”

“Are you serious about June?” A flush accompanies the hesitant question.

“How far we take this is up to you.” I rest my forehead against hers, speaking gently. “If you can live with a Marine, then tell me when and where to be on June third. If not, I’ll come home to you, until you tell me not to.”

The words are difficult for me to say. I’m not accustomed to letting go of control over my life, especially not with something this serious.

“Okay,” she whispers.

I’m not entirely certain what that means. I don’t ask. It’s a lot to think about on day one, and I’d rather know she was certain.

“You do understand it’s not easy, right?” I ask again.

“Yes. And I know you’ll be in danger.” A tremor works its way through her body. “I’m really glad you came back, Sawyer.”

“Me, too.” I kiss her forehead and release her. “Want to walk out back?”

She nods, the thoughtful expression remaining.

Whatever she’s thinking, whatever she eventually decides, I know I’m committed. It’s out of my hands. Surprisingly, I’m not uncomfortable or uneasy about it. I suspected last night how this would go, from the moment she showed me her scars, and I’m confident it will unfold the way I want it to.

I dress quickly, and we walk hand in hand towards the snow-topped hedges of the family cemetery. It looks far different than I recall, the roses and flowers gone for the winter. It’s still peaceful, and the stone walkways winding through the garden are clear of snow.

“Can I have a minute with him?” Katya asks.

“Of course.” I let go of her hand and hang back as she approaches Mikael’s tombstone and kneels.