Page 81 of Stuck with the SEAL for Christmas
The four-poster bed is draped in white linens. Champagne chills in a bucket. Rose petals are scattered across the floor.
We’re spoiled on decadent bedrooms now. We spent six months at the cave enjoying our favorite room while I set up the on-site training program for the teams.
After, I bought a gigantic ranch house for my girl, just down the road from Justice and Rosalie.
“This is so pretty,” she says, kissing the side of my cheek. “I love it.”
I set Liberty gently on her feet, and she reaches for me with absolute trust.
“I've got you,” I promise, the words as natural now as breathing. It’s my vow to her every time we make love.
“I know,” she whispers back, her fingers working the buttons of my shirt. “You always do. Now, show me what married life is going to be like.”
“I accept the mission,” I hoarsely reply as I find that soft spot below her ear that makes her shiver. Every single time.
“I ordered cake brought up here with extra icing,” I tell her hooking a thumb toward the table in the corner.
She laughs, pushing my shirt off my shoulders, attacking my belt buckle next. “Where are you going to put that icing?”
“Everywhere.”
“Oh my.Yes. I do love you, big man. You make me so happy.”
For the next two hours, I show my wife exactly how thoroughly I plan to cherish her, as snow falls silently outside and the fire crackles beside us.
While she’s in my arms, beneath me, I send up a silent prayer of gratitude.
For the chance to love.
For Marshall's meddling.
For a Christmas Eve that changed everything.
For Justice trusting me with his sister.
Absolutely for Liberty’s courage and strength.
Outside, church bells chime midnight, ushering in Christmas Day. Inside, wrapped around my wife, I'm already home.
