Grey Skies - A Military Romance (Complete)

Grey Skies: Chapter 34

Emily offered Max a plate of store-bought cookies. "How was your Christmas?"

"You know small towns. Not much changes."

"Yet everything does." She leaned against the mantel, her gaze lingering on the cup of tea she held between her two hands.

Max nodded at Finn across the room, who sat on the couch, cradling his infant daughter. He'd barely taken his eyes off the baby since Max returned last night. "Finn seems different."

"I don't know how, but whatever you said on that camping trip made an impact." Emily lovingly gazed at her husband. "He's more like the old Finn. Still over protective, but he started talking to me again."

"I think Simon had more to do with it than me." Max bit into a cookie, the sugar hitting the roof of his mouth. The vanilla taste reminded him of Sophie, and his stomach muscles flexed.

"Not according to Finn. He said you convinced him to let me in." Emily rolled her lips. "To what happened all those years while we were apart."

Max's back stiffened.

"I knew you faced danger, but I ... maybe I didn't want to face reality. Truly look. Or ask. I had no idea." Her words were a whisper. "What your team dealt with. What you deal with."

Max shifted his weight. "He's lucky to have you."

Emily placed a hand on Max's forearm. "And us you. We're glad to have you back. Even if it's only for a few weeks before you deploy again."

"Are you sure?" Max watched as Finn handed the baby over to Mary. There must have been some peace treaty struck over the holidays because Mary had spent most of the morning here, helping Emily but also tending to Lucy with Finn. As usual, Simon nestled behind his wife like an ever-present lifeboat.

A surge of envy jolted through Max at the ease with which Simon gently moved the hair away from his wife's neck. The simplicity of being able to touch the woman he loved without thought. Max's ribs squeezed like a vice, the sharp pain a reminder he might never have the luxury. His fingers itched to brush against Sophie's soft skin. He craved to pepper her collarbone with his kisses, to watch her come undone beneath him. At the same time, a desire to hear her laugh, see her bite her lip as she assessed the correct amount of spice to add to a dish she was cooking, to sit beside her as they made the too short trip to the winery, sizzled through him.

On Christmas day, Sophie had surprised him with a text. Warmth spread through him like wildfire when he woke up and read the simple wish to him and his family for peace and joy. He'd spent half an hour writing and rewriting his response, as if his entire relationship with Sophie depended on this interaction. Their first real-world communication outside of living at the lake house. Their first friendly text. In the end he'd gone with offering season's greetings and followed the message up by asking what it was like to be in New York over the holidays, never expecting a response. Still, de'd added her to his contacts, using his nickname for her. Over the next few days, they'd traded texts constantly, ending in the one this morning:

Sunshine: Can't wait to see you this afternoon.

Max had stared at that line, wringing every ounce of meaning from each word, hope blooming in his chest like a stadium filling with fans before the start of a World Series final. If she was only being polite, then why did she use the phrase "can't wait" and she specifically said "you" not everyone. Sophie was coming back to him.

His thumb ran across the edge of his phone as Max watched Simon, across the room, press a kiss to Mary's shoulder. Max turned from the sight and met Emily's gaze. "I'm taking up much needed space."

Kind eyes the colour of starlight searched his face. "Max." She pressed her fingers into his shirt. "We love having you here."

"But with your father and sister coming to stay for New Year's Eve—"