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“It’s busier than I thought for a small airport,” Dean commented as they approached the escalators leading to the front lobby.

“It’s all the holiday cheer,” Sloane said as he witnessed someone swear loudly and viciously when someone bumped into them, making them drop their carry-on.

“You’re so pessimistic,” Dean said, though he did so fondly.

“This from the man who was ready to kill someone at the last airport,” Sloane said.

Dean shrugged as they descended. “I got over it.”

“You mean you took a nap and made up for staying up late to ensure we had everything packed for the trip,” Sloane said.

“That too. But are we going to be able to find your family in all this mess?”

“I think we’ll have absolutely no problem.”

“If you say so.”

Which was good timing as they descended far enough to get a clear view of the lobby. Despite the seething throng of people, Sloane did not miss the splash of a garish pink sign waving abovethe crowd. In equally bright and bold ink, he and Dean’s name had been written above the words ‘Welcome Home.’

“Is that...Shawna?” Dean asked.

Sloane sighed. “Of course it’s Shawna.”

“Aww, they made us a sign,” Dean said.

“Your name is in purple,” Sloane pointed out.

Dean elbowed him. “Which she knows is my favorite color.”

“She only knows it because she had a huge ass crush on you,” Sloane growled, rubbing his side where Dean’s arm had caught him. The man was stronger than he looked.

“And now you have a huge ass crush on me,” Dean bragged. “Oh, look, they covered your name in glitter. That was sweet of them.”

“No, it’s not,” Sloane complained. “She somehow heard about the stripper story and won’t let it go.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter as they stepped off the escalator. “I’d forgotten about that. Damn, I’ll have to remember to bring it up in front of her later.”

Sloane groaned, wondering if it was a good idea for Dean to be around his family. The story in question had been from one of his earlier leaves, back during his deployment. His childhood buddy had been getting married and, in the most cliche manner possible, had decided to drag his entire bachelor party to bars and, finally, a strip club.

Sloane was not and never had been a fan of strippers. Oh sure, he was fully behind someone using their sex appeal to titillateandpay the bills, but they had never been for him. His buddies, of course, knowing that, wouldn’t stop buying him lap dances. By the time he stumbled out of the strip club, he was covered in so much glitter he was still finding it a week later in the strangest places.

“Fucking strippers,” Sloane grumbled.

Dean looked over his shoulder, a wry twist to his lips. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be fucking strippers. Especially now.”

It was said as a joke, but it wasn’t the first time Dean had made an offhand comment about Sloane being with a woman. Sloane understood that Dean was probably worried, or more than worried, considering how in his head Dean could sometimes be about Sloane’s long-lived heterosexuality. Sloane kept hoping that time would ease the fear as he continued to show he was head over heels for the other man and wanted nothing more than him.

“If I’m fucking a stripper,” Sloane promised him in a low voice. “It’s only going to be if you do a striptease for me one night.”

Dean’s smile turned into genuine amusement. “I’m not stripping for you, Sloane. I have the dancing skills of a giraffe on roller skates.”

“Maybe just stick to taking your clothes off in a sexy way,” Sloane suggested.

“I don’tdosexy,” Dean insisted.

Sloane begged to differ because, like hell, Dean was not sexy. But he didn’t have the chance because his family was swarming over them an instant later. Shawna and Diana leaped toward him, and Sloane barely had a chance to drop his carry-on bag before they slammed into him.

Sloane grunted, quick to wrap an arm around each of them before they fell. “Jesus Christ. You two just saw me earlier this year.”