Page 12 of Collision of Winters (Hillcroft Group #4)

The boy was so eager to open the cheese that he did it before putting on clothes, so that was something he should improve on. For the sake of my sanity.

“Oh, this is awesome. Thank you so much, Sir. Do you remember this was the first thing you taught me in French?”

I chuckled and did my best to ignore the title.

“I do.” I placed my boots by the door and removed my beanie too. “Do you remember what I taught you in German?”

He stood straighter and spoke as he crammed the first triangle of cheese into his mouth. “ Funf Minuten something-something Deutschen Pünktlichkeit !”

I let out a laugh. Close enough.

“You’d do well to remember that one,” I said. “You’ll need punctuality in your future field.”

He smiled like a dope. “I’m always punctual. Besides, I’m not sure five minutes are enough. Dad taught me fifteen minutes early is on time.”

Of course he had. Chris and I had been taught the same thing.

“Touché.”

I was supposed to be staring into the fire and relaxing my mind after a perfect dinner.

Instead, I watched Kayden on his knees in front of the coffee table, where he was busy organizing the lists he’d written.

He had been the family list-maker for as long as he’d been with us, and I was sure he missed his own notepads.

He had lists for his move, for clothes he’d need for his training, utility vehicles he liked, songs he preferred to work out to…

“What’s the list in the upper left corner for?” I asked.

He didn’t miss a beat, even though he was busy studying two other pages. “Websites and books. I need to become a GPS system, and I’m wondering if there’s a site where you can stay up-to-date on roadwork and stuff in DC.”

I smiled to myself and scooted lower in my seat.

Fuck, how I wished we’d known about his dreams earlier. It was so easy to see how Kayden burned for this.

“Have you ever had a job in logistics before?” I wondered.

He made a face and shrugged a little. “Nothing like this, but…I guess, kinda. I’ve worked at distribution facilities and stuff. I actually liked the last place. One of the few bosses who liked me—he put me in charge of coordinating deliveries.”

That only raised more questions.

“What makes you think your bosses haven’t liked you?” I mean, he was the most likable boy I knew.

He looked at me and lifted his eyebrows. “Because they tend to let workers know, Wade. I’m always told I’m too inquisitive and argumentative. But it’s not my fault they’re doing it all wrong.”

That made me laugh, and it felt incredible. He had confidence , for once, which was wonderful to see.

He grinned a little and glanced over his shoulder. “It doesn’t seem as windy anymore.”

No, the worst of it had died down. “Now we just need to wait out the snowstorm.”

He looked back at me and seemed to hesitate for a second. “Can we go home soon? I wanna see Dad and Chris when he gets back. And Yaya.”

Well, that was a sobering thought—and not a very pleasant one either. Because I was enjoying our alone time way too much, but of course he wanted to get back now that he had plans.

“I swear I’m not gonna run away,” he teased.

I managed to pull off a smile. “Of course we can. I’ve accomplished my goal with this little field trip.”

His own smile turned soft. “You don’t know how grateful I am, Sir. I feel so…hopeful now. I’m excited. I’m gonna work super hard.”

I had no doubt.

“We’ll go when Quin gives the word,” I decided. “It shouldn’t be more than a day or two.”

His relief was clear as day. “Any updates, by the way?”

“Not in the last four hours.” I checked my watch, surprised to see it was so late. “Make that six.” Jesus. I’d literally sat here and watched him work on his lists for almost three hours. “I’ll probably get another text around midnight.”

It was only half an hour till then, so we should get ready for bed.

Some distance would do me good. Unless he got afraid out here again, and…

“May, um—may I bunk with you tonight too, Sir?”

Yes. Absolutely not. Of course you can. Please don’t.

“You never have to ask, blue.”

I was going to hell.

I sat on the edge of the bed and reread Quinlan’s message, and part of me wanted to tell him about the progress we’d made up here. But his mind was understandably preoccupied with Chris’s assignment.

I’d wait.

The important thing was, Chris and the Beckett brothers were safe. Everything was going according to plan.

Kayden soon emerged in the doorway after brushing his teeth, and he was back to wearing only those snug briefs.

He was holding a glass of water too. “I noticed you always have a drink of water before bed.” He came over and set it on my bedside table.

“Thank you.” The last thing I needed was him anticipating my needs, goddammit. “I received an update. Everyone is safe.”

He exhaled with relief and went to his side of the bed. “Good. I hope the dickheads coming for Chris die.”

I pulled up a leg and twisted my body so I could look back at him. “Is that how you genuinely feel?”

His forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Um, yeah? Isn’t this a kill-or-be-killed situation?”

Well, yes, but I…I supposed I hadn’t considered that Kayden already thought in those terms.

“Most likely,” I conceded.

He shrugged. “And in my civilian opinion, I can’t think of a scenario in which I’d rather be killed than kill.”

He used that word—civilian. It wasn’t the first time.

Over the years, he had often referred to himself as a civilian in discussions with Quin and me, because of our years in the service, and now I couldn’t help but wonder if that term came with a bit of resentment.

If he’d truly wished for a career in the Army, chances were—to this day—he disliked being on the civilian side of life.

I scooted under the covers and got comfortable on my back, and I peered over at him. “You won’t be a civilian much longer.”

“Really?” The way he lit up… “Do you have ranks at Hillcroft?”

“Nothing official that’ll earn you a slot at Arlington when you die. We have job titles and—within the agency—two ranks. Junior and senior.”

He grinned and flopped down on the mattress. “I won’t be a civilian. I won’t be a freaking civilian. Oh my God.”

The boy could hardly contain his glee.

“What’s wrong with being a civilian?” I chuckled.

“Nothing. It’s just not the life I dreamed of.”

Fair enough.

I reached over to my bedside table and flicked off the lantern. “I’m a civilian now.”

He gigglesnorted in the dark. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah. I am.”

“You’re not!” He let out a laugh and rolled onto his side. I caught him in the low light from the fire in the main room, and he was grinning at me. “You’re a decorated soldier and a psychiatrist at a private military agency. That doesn’t sound very civilian.”

I smirked wryly, and I rolled onto my side as well. “This is the most gung ho for the military I’ve ever seen you.”

He raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “I guess it always represented strength to me, coming from a background where I was too young and weak to defend myself.”

That made perfect sense.

I wasn’t particularly worried about him glorifying the military.

He’d heard Quin and me bitch about fundamental problems in most branches, from rules for rules’ sake and structural issues to bullying and abuse.

The latter was always going to be something Quinlan worked to prevent.

He’d once ended up in the ICU for having a boyfriend, leading to the open policy we had at Hillcroft today.

Not to mention my role with the agency. We’d both experienced the VA.

We’d both had friends who’d been sent home from a clinic with a sleeping aid and opted to blow their brains out instead.

I could go on forever, but despite those heartbreaking downsides, the Army had given me something I wouldn’t trade for anything, so I did see Kayden’s perspective.

“I was gonna ask earlier…” He shifted a few inches closer and drew aimless circles on my pillow with his finger. “Do I have to worry about written exams during my training? My spelling isn’t great.”

That might be the first time he’d broached a topic even remotely close to the possibility of his having dyslexia.

“There will be a few,” I replied. “You don’t have to worry about your spelling, though. Not for a second. You’re not being trained in avoiding typos, and nine times out of ten, your communications will be verbal.”

“Heh. Okay.” He bit his lip and fixed his gaze on my pillow. “What do you think Dad will say? And Chris. Will they be okay with me working there?”

“The moment we say junior officer in logistics, they’ll be fine,” I assured. “It’s a good job. You’ll definitely feel useful. You’ll have operators depending on you—without you risking your life.”

He smiled and did the worst thing imaginable. He rested his head on my pillow instead of his own, bringing us much, much closer to each other.

My best course of action was to stay on the current topic. It was safe. “One thing we will ask of you is to choose a code name to work under. Quin uses his own because it wouldn’t look great if the co-owner of the agency went by an alias, but Chris and I are known only as Coach and Doc.”

Thank fuck, that worked. Kayden was suddenly so interested to hear more that he sat up, still a little too close, and crisscrossed his legs. But at least our faces weren’t mere inches apart.

“So people don’t know your names at all? Why’s he called Coach? What should I pick? Do I choose my alias after I’ve passed the training?”

Did he have to be so fucking adorable? Holding back was starting to wear me down, although the alternative was worse. If the guilt was threatening to consume me just by realizing my feelings toward Kayden were changing, what would happen if I actually acted on them?

“Very few people know our names at Hillcroft,” I confirmed.

“Chris earned his nickname when he was around eighteen, nineteen. He was too young to go through our recruit program at the time—which was still being developed then—so he tagged along to shadow the instructors, and he turned out to be quite the coach when spurring on the recruits. The name stuck, and aside from being an operator today, he’s an instructor.

As for you …” I smiled and folded an arm under my head.

“You choose your alias before training begins, and it’s entirely up to you.

I think the only rules for code names are that it can just be a single word or name, it obviously can’t be inappropriate, and you can’t change it whenever you feel like. ”

I further explained that the vast majority today operated under their own names, but because of our family history, we wanted the added security of going anonymous. It was an extra line of defense. An extra lock on the door.

Kayden nodded and did something even stupider than sharing my pillow. Now he thought it was a good idea to fidget with the waistband of my boxer briefs under the covers, even though I could tell he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. He seemed to be miles away in his mind.

Goddammit. His fingertips alone brushing against my skin were enough to pour most of my focus into my hip.

“Understandable,” he replied pensively.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, then stared up at the ceiling.

“We should get some sleep, kiddo,” I felt the need to say. “It’s been a long day.”

He snorted softly. “Sir, calling me kiddo made sense when I was twelve. I turn twenty- six the day after tomorrow. Technically, it’s tomorrow.”

I yawned and folded my other arm under my head too.

He watched the movement, zeroing in on my biceps.

Quit it.

I wasn’t sure if I was telling myself or him…

“It doesn’t mean I view you as a kiddo.” Sadly. This would’ve been so much easier if I didn’t see him as an adult. “But as the baby brother of the family, you probably won’t get to retire that term.”

He shot me a playful scowl.

I smirked tiredly. “We really do need to sleep now. Will you be done feeling me up anytime soon?”

Keeping it light was a must.

He withdrew his hands as if my skin had burned him, and he widened his eyes and grinned self-consciously. “Holy shit, I wasn’t even aware. I’m sorry.”

I’d figured as much. “Don’t worry about it,” I chuckled drowsily. “I should’ve given you access to my shoulders or feet instead.”

He turned impish and made grabbing motions with his hands. “I’m not tired. You want me to rub your shoulders, Sir?”

Absolutely not and very much.

Despite that I shouldn’t bring up kink, I couldn’t help myself. “Do you realize that you’ve called me Sir all evening?”

He didn’t shy away or break eye contact this time.

He nodded instead, just a dip of his chin, and threw himself next to me. Thankfully, on his own pillow.

“I like it,” he admitted. “You’re definitely a Sir. Everything about you screams Dom.”

Abort, abort.

I regretted my actions. Fucking hell.

He just needed a platonic outlet, correct? Nothing else. Nothing more.

“Can I ask something personal?”

As long as it wasn’t kink-related. “You can ask me anything.”

He pushed himself up on one elbow. “Are you a Daddy Dom?”

Yes, and you’re fucking killing me.

I withheld a sigh and returned my arms to my sides, and I glanced at him. “I am.”

“Oh,” he whispered. “I kinda figured, but I wasn’t sure…” He released a breath and returned his head to the pillow, and he tucked his hands under his cheek.

I should look away and create distance between us, but I just couldn’t.

Since I knew he felt comfortable enough to be in his Middle space with me—and that he fell into a submissive mind-set in my presence—it was impossible not to wonder if he was cursing our circumstances.

Much like I was trying to deny I was doing.

I’d never dated anyone so much younger than me. Eighteen years was…substantial. So why was I so drawn to him? Why had my feelings changed direction so overwhelmingly?

After a moment, he broke our gaze and closed his eyes.

“I guess I’ll try to sleep now,” he mumbled. “Goodnight, Sir.”

I swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, and I let out a breath. “Goodnight, blue.”

Sweet dreams, little one.