Page 9 of Luck Be Mine (The Defenders #3)

Hunt dropped his fork on the empty plate. “I run him to death. That usually shuts him up. Today, we were testing some new weapons. He didn’t do much talking. I didn’t kill anybody.”

Hunt scooted his chair back. “Clean your plate, Doc.”

Cait checked. She had several bites left. “Yes, sir.” Not used to eating big meals, she slowly took the bites. Hunt had cleaned the kitchen and put the leftovers in the refrigerator while she doodled with her food.

“I could have done this later.”

“Nope. You cook. I straighten the kitchen. It’s my marriage rule.”

“I’m not going to argue.”

“You’re ready for bed.”

“I want recliner time.”

“Why?” His confused expression tickled her humor.

“Because. Come here.” She made her way to the chair. Her hip was aching like she’d stood on it all afternoon.

Hunt rinsed her plate and put it in the dishwasher and added their glasses. Drying his hands, he tossed the towel on the rack and came up behind her where she stood waiting. “Me first?”

“Yeah, this won’t work if you try to sit on my lap.”

“Mmm, sounds interesting.” His fingers trailed over her lower back, teasing all the way.

He collapsed into the chair and lifted a hand to her hip to help her settle in his lap. She put her good arm around his neck and leaned against him. She might never move again.

He cleared his throat and settled. “Is there a goal to this?”

She smiled at him. “Of course, but you might need some reminders.” She leaned in and pressed her wet lips to his warm ones.

“Reminders?” He tipped his head to achieve a better angle.

She sighed against his mouth. “Maybe not much of one.”

Hunt’s hand stroked her back. His other hand cupped her face. The sizzle alive, her body went boneless. The man was tough as steel yet could kiss with a tenderness that ripped away all doubt about how he felt.

“This was a brilliant idea,” Hunt whispered. He swept his lips over her neck. “We could have done this in bed, though.”

She sat back, cupping his face so his eyes met hers. “I need to be upright. I love our bed, but I can’t stand any more time in it. I thought necking on the sofa would be fun.” She twisted her mouth and glared at the scarlet mistake.

Hunt coughed. “Fuck, no. Until Adele cleans it.”

“I will cover it with something…anything else. I don’t like feeling as if I’m in a sex shop with my husband.”

“Oh, it would be okay with someone else?”

She gripped his chin and planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth. “No, and you know it.”

Hunt smirked his way through the tender, possessive kiss. “I do, honey. So, we’re sitting in the recliner to tease, talk, and neck.”

“Exactly. Besides…” Her voice trailed off. God, where were the words?

But Hunt knew. He always knew. “We can’t make love yet, so the chair is safer for both of us. Don’t tempt things.”

She gripped her hands together, cursing the dead zone. “I want to tempt things.” She turned her head away, tears coming out of nowhere.

He brushed her hair aside and gazed in her eyes. “Oh, honey. We’re both in the same state. But I’m not doing anything to stall your recovery.”

“Physical therapy again tomorrow. I’ll ask.”

Hunt’s eyes widened. “Ask? If you can have sex with your husband?”

She wiped at her tears and ran a finger across his jaw. “Yes. It’s a medical question I never even thought to ask. I’ll get the recovery parameters. While we’re on the subject, you should buy condoms. My birth control may have deactivated. I’ll make an appointment and ask.”

Hunt stayed silent for a moment. “Not like Afghanistan where we could go for it in the moment, huh?”

“Nope. Not unless you want a baby and to potentially mess up my hip.”

Hunt froze and finally deeply sighed. “Let’s wait on that, okay?”

She lightly slapped his shoulder. “No, it’s not okay. None of this is okay.” She pressed her lips together, shut out the emotion, and tried to be practical. “But it doesn’t change because we want it so.”

Hunt leaned in and nipped her lips. “It takes hard work, something we are familiar with. I’m all about risk in my job, but with you? No. Hard pass. Ask. I’ll take care of the condoms.”

Emotion cut loose and clogged her throat. “Makes it not romantic or sexy, doesn’t it?”

Hunt gave a small laugh. “You do not grasp what you speak of. You are warm, inviting, and alive, all sexy as hell. Romantic is what we make it. This is romantic.” He took her mouth in a fierce kiss, and she lost her breath.

Necking should never be downplayed. Whew!

§§§§§§§§§§

? Back in Uniform – One Month ?

A few days later, Hunt followed Doogie out of a mission briefing and debated how to tell Cait that activation was imminent.

He was going to miss the recliner, the make out sessions, and the closeness with his wife.

The new mission rotation was starting in two days, and he neglected to mention it to Cait.

Because he expected Cait to freak?

No. Because he was.

Leaving her home alone was killing him. Even with her stateside, in his apartment, no travel plans, no Army orders, better from therapy, Adele at her right hand, with as much organized as they possibly could – he kept going over and over arrangements in his head in case he’d missed something.

He’d been tempted to text her and break the news before he got home. Chicken. She deserved the news in person. They’d be communicating by those devices soon enough.

Doogie slowed and matched his stride to Hunt’s. “How’s Cait handling possible deployment?”

Hunt stayed silent.

“You haven’t told her, have you?” He grabbed Hunt’s arm. “What the hell?”

Hunt pulled away and entered their work area to get away from listening ears. “I’m the one who isn’t ready.” The confession came hard. Glad the area was empty, he moved to the back of the large room.

“You’re on edge, bro. To be expected. The only way past this is through. You’ll have to turn it off.” Doogie’s advice was straight out of the team playbook.

“Copy.” Propping his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath.

“Mama says she’s doing great, if that means anything. What did you do with the apartment change idea?”

“Talked to the complex office. They have an open two-bedroom on the ground floor. Watch us get sent out before I have time to execute the move.”

“Don’t jinx it, man.”

He snorted. “You get to move the red sofa.”

Doogie huffed, exasperated. “I carried it up.”

Hunt opened his cage and dropped his iPad in the slot he used for storage. “You can carry it down.”

“I’m getting nothing but grief about that sofa,” he groused.

“Cait likes big red. So shut it.”

Doogie’s eyebrows rose sky high. “She does?”

“Yeah, don’t ask me. After your mom cleaned it, she suddenly embraced the thing and is now decorating with it in mind.”

He stared at Hunt, disbelief in his expression. “Do tell.”

“More pillows, matching comforter across the back, artwork on the wall. Amazon. The budget killer. Frankly, I don’t care as long as she’s happy, so there you go.”

“So there you go.” His best friend grinned like a fool.

Hunt slapped him on the back. “Don’t ever do this again.”

“But it sidetracked my mama. Lectures are at a minimum. Stopped thousands of dollars of spending at a furniture store. Just have to know how. Uh-huh.” He did a little shimmy.

Hunt closed his eyes to mask the roll, then shook his head and smiled. “It’s a good thing we’re friends.”

“Always have your back, LT.”

“Uh-huh.”

§§§§§§§§§§

? Mission Time ?

Cait shifted her weight on the kitchen chair to ease the discomfort in her hip, scribbled on her paper, and stayed on hold while the personnel sergeant at her old unit worked through a moving request on her household goods.

She couldn’t wait anymore. The bigger apartment would require more furniture. She needed her furniture.

She fingered the chain Hunt had put around her neck on Valentine’s Day and waited.

Still on the list was to sign a new lease together, get keys, and get the guys to make it happen.

She couldn’t suppress a sense of urgency.

Hunt had been staying at work longer and longer.

Mission time was coming fast. Red Baby wasn’t moving by itself.

The sergeant came back on. His measured tone was typical of the man. “You sure you want to do this, Captain? If you transfer your household goods, the Army won’t pay for a move when you get assigned to a new duty station.”

“I’m sure, Sergeant. Thanks. Do I need to sign it?”

“No. I can submit without it. You do have mail here, though.”

“Me? Mail? From whom?”

“Looks like an official envelope, but I can’t find any division on it. I can send it along with the paperwork to begin separation. Your personal gear arrived from Afghanistan, too. Send to this new address?”

“Yes, thank you.” She didn’t have a clue what Hunt would say about all this, but she couldn’t wait like they agreed.

“No problem, ma’am. When you decide the timeline on your separation, follow what’s outlined and call me with questions. Commander has to approve them, too.”

“Yes, I’ve talked to him.”

“Sorry you got hurt, ma’am.”

“I did my job. It’s time for somebody else to.”

“It’s the way it’s worked for decades, ma’am. I’ll get this in the mail today.”

She disconnected, turned her phone face down on the counter, and clasped her shaky right hand in her lap. “Out processing begun. Furniture shipping started. Let’s find a storage unit.” She lifted her phone and scrolled through local choices, identifying one three blocks away.

The front door squeaked open. She turned to find Hunt standing in the doorway. Middle of the day?

His face grim, Cait’s stomach took a nosedive. “You’re going out.”

“Yeah. I have two hours to report.” He came to the table, sat, and took her hands. “Sorry.”

Cait let a small laugh out. Only she knew it was caused by impending hysteria. “No, you’re not. You’ve been anxious to get back out there since we got home.”

He sat back in his chair and studied her face. “Why are you so calm?”

She wasn’t, but dammit he was not taking worry about her out there with him.

Too flipping dangerous.