Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)

She grinned. “Okay, some of them aren’t. How’s that?”


“I’m still having trouble believing that.” He moved his hand over one breast, then the other. He paused to tease her ni**les, which made her shiver.

His gaze sharpened. “You like that.”

“I liked pretty much everything you did,” she admitted. “I’m sure your technique has been honed by all your experience.”

He groaned and rolled on his back. “I never should have admitted that to you.”

She propped her head on her hand and smiled. “The fact that you used sex as a way to escape from your job pressures?” She paused. “Yeah, not your smartest conversational move. Because you can’t unsay it and I will never, ever forget.”

He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth turning up. “I wasn’t a complete dog.”

“Interesting, because I hear a distinct yipping in the background.”

“When I was in a relationship, I was faithful.”

“I have no proof of that.”

The smile faded. “I wouldn’t do that. I don’t get the point. If someone’s unhappy, talk about it. If you can’t fix it, man up and be honest about wanting to leave.”

“I know,” she said, leaning forward and lightly kissing him.

He took her free hand in his and brought it to his groin. She stroked him, taking him from relaxed to aroused in about three seconds.

She’d been about to suggest they get dressed and eat, but this was so much more interesting, she thought. Especially when he drew her up so she was straddling him.

She leaned over and let her hair trail along his chest. He moved his hand between them and found her very center. He smiled slowly.

“I challenge you to a test of wills,” he said. “Who can last the longest?”

She sighed as he reached for the condoms. “At last, a game I’m going to enjoy losing.”

* * *

The doors to the triage center opened again. They had a distinctive squeak, so Gabriel knew a second before it happened that yet another wounded soldier was being wheeled in. There was blood everywhere, and cries of pain.

He pointed to where the soldier should go and tried to get out of the way, but he couldn’t. There were too many wounded and he was unable to make room. The doors opened again and he could see the line of gurneys stretched on forever. There were hundreds who needed him. Thousands. And he could never be enough.

He came awake with a start. In the darkness, he had no idea where he was or what was happening. Then the scent of the fire drifted to him and he heard the soft rumble of one of the cats purring. Memories returned and he was able to place himself in the cabin.

Noelle slept next to him. He put his arm around her and drew her against him. She was as warm and yielding in sleep as she had been awake. He hung on to her and steadied his breathing.

He didn’t need to study psychology to understand what the dream meant. He was exhausted from his work. Drained down to his soul. It would take months to heal—maybe years. But he only had until the first of January before he had to decide and he honest to God didn’t know what to do.

The decision should be about staying in the army and nothing else. But somehow Noelle had woven her way into his life—into how he thought and what he wanted to do. He’d never meant to get involved. Never meant to care. Because there was no point. They could both be dead tomorrow.

Only in her arms, right now, it didn’t feel like that. It felt like there could be possibilities. And he understood that concept scared him more than any mortar shell ever could.

Chapter 11

Noelle felt Gabriel get out of bed. She was sure it was early in the morning, but she couldn’t see the clock. She sat up and turned on the small lamp by the bed. Gabriel pulled on his jeans before facing her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, taking in his drawn features. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

“It’s not exactly something you can order me to do.” She got up and looked around for her clothes. She’d been down to her underwear the first time they’d gone to bed, and had only been wearing her T-shirt the second.

She couldn’t see any clothes anywhere and started to lean over and to move the covers when Gabriel swore. She turned and saw him holding out his shirt.

“Put this on. Please.”

He sounded both furious and pleading. She shrugged into the shirt and fastened the buttons. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. We have to get out of here.”

“Yes, that’s the plan. When the plow comes, we’ll drive back to town.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “That’s not good enough. We need to go now.”

She shifted so she could see the clock. “It’s five in the morning. The plows won’t have been here. Are you going to dig us out all the way to the road?”