The Hunters

Chapter Sixty-Two

 It was mid-afternoon when we returned from the hospital, the team training on the range. I went to check out their progress before feeling a tug at my waist. König had wrapped his arm around my waist, urging me to my cabin with pleading eyes. His gentle expression made me smile and I complied with his silent request, walking alongside him.

König had been babying me the most of the others, insisting on taking charge of all things related to my recovery. He'd borrowed a Norwegian cookbook from another soldier, cooking for me and hand-feeding me. If it weren't for training, he would have never left my side I'd never felt so cared for, his forehead kisses filled with emotion and his fingers forever gentle on my skin.

This was the first time he was letting me walk on my own, and as I opened my mouth to make a comment, he paused and reached downward to lift me into his arms. "König!" I protested with a giggle and spreading blush. "I've been cleared. Why can't I walk again?"

"Slippery," he excused, and I could hear the smile in his voice as his warm gaze held mine. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I rested my head against his chest. I craved these moments now, idolizing every second that I felt small, safe, and secure around him. The other men just couldn't make me feel this way, no matter how hard they tried.

"Am I allowed to cook tonight?" He shook his head and I giggled, melting into him as he walked. "What are we having? Fish?"

König was kind enough to cook fish for me while I was recovering, but it was obvious that he wasn't a fan. I'd insisted he not cook fish so that he wasn't suffering; however, he'd gone behind my back and asked about my favorite meals from the other Jegertroppen. He chuckled at my question, answering softly, "I want to try those Norwegian meatballs again. With potatoes?"

"Oh! Yes; those were delicious last time." I kissed his neck through his sniper mask, planting a series of quick pecks. He paused on my front porch, waiting until I was satisfied with my silly affection, before ducking inside and locking the door behind us while holding me with one impressively strong arm.

König always locked the door, even when we knew company was coming over. He insisted on keeping me safe at all times. Carrying me inside, he made me a glass of water before placing me gently on the couch. I watched him rebuild the fire before heading into the kitchen, listening to him cook while I drank and began to read the book he'd gotten me: a guide to world traveling. The pages were marked with colored tabs, organized by where we wanted to go first to last.

I grinned as I read the next location, enjoying the photography of the Swiss Alps. "König," I called while he worked, seeing his head pop up from the cookbook. "I think I found a better place to start. Am I allowed to walk over there and show you?"

"Nein." I giggled as he washed his hands and came to the couch instead, sitting beside me only to then pull me onto his lap. He'd begun speaking German in front of me, teaching me the language while I taught him Norwegian. "Kleine, this place would be perfect," he determined with a wide grin hidden behind his mask. While he cradled me in his arms, he pointed at the various photos, describing what we could do there.

"What time of year do you want to visit?" I asked softly, feeling his left hand begin to stroke my neck and face. He'd removed his gloves to cook, neatly rolling his sleeves, and I melted beneath his touch.

"I want to see this," he determined, pointing at breathtaking wildflower-covered meadow. "Summer. Dort werde ich Ihnen einen Heiratsantrag machen."

My eyebrow rose as I muttered, "I didn't catch that one. What did you say?"

"Just how excited I am to visit," he responded warmly, kissing my forehead as he shifted his attention to the other photos. "These towns are beautiful. I want to go in the winter too."

"Please tell me we aren't skiing. I'm like a newborn fawn wearing iceskates skiing."

König chuckled and kissed me once again, shaking his head as he returned me to the couch. "No skiing," he confirmed. "Our legs are too long." I grinned and returned to the book, my eyes widening when I realized that he'd marked the page while I was distracted by him. He'd placed a red tab on the page, indicating that it was our favorite place: where we would start, and possibly, end.

I continued to read while he cooked, the cabin soon filling with the aroma of the meat and seasonings. "Can I smash the potatoes this time?"

"Nein."

I giggled, further teasing him while I read. "Can I mix the gravy?"

"Nein."

"Can I–?" His eyes lifted from the mixing bowl, revealing his humor as he attempted to silently discourage me of further teasing. "Fine. Can I sit here and keep reading?"

"I'll think about it."