Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) (10 page)

Beau saw sadness in Callie’s green eyes this morning. What was she feeling? Had something happened to her last night or earlier this morning that he didn’t know about? Beau would make it a point to ask her once they got past feeding the children breakfast.

He waited and caught Callie walking into Maggie’s office after the children’s breakfast was finished. He knew she had about fifteen minutes before helping teach the children to read. He sauntered in and gave her a hello smile as he picked up a mug.

“You’re looking sad about something,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Just life,” Callie offered, shrugging as she backed off to give him room.

“Did you hear bad news I should know about? Your family? Your grandparents?”

She shook her head. “No, everyone is fine back home.”

“Maybe you’re missing them,” he reflected. “After all, it is the holidays.”

Callie wanted so badly to walk up to Beau, wrap her arms around his waist, and rest her head on his chest. She knew without a doubt that he’d embrace and hold her. “Well, there is that. I love Christmas, Beau.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, leaning up against the bookcase and watching some of that sadness dissolve. “What kind of Christmas does your family celebrate?”

“Oh, a wonderful one. My grandparents are very old-fashioned. They have a sleigh that their two horses haul around the ranch in the snow. And we always get tons of snow.” She sighed and smiled a little. “We have this family tradition where Mom stays at the ranch making apple cider with wonderful spices, warming it up for us. Dad is a killer doughnut maker. He makes them by hand and fries them up in a fryer. While they’re doing that, my grandparents take me and Dara on a sleigh ride under quilts that my grandma made eons ago. We bundle up and take off down a long, sloping hill and into the woods. It’s so wonderful and beautiful. You get to see the snow on the evergreens, the sun sparkling on the snow being pushed off the limbs by the breeze. By the time we get back to the ranch, Mom and Dad have hot apple cider and warm doughnuts on the table waiting for all of us. We tell them of our adventures, and we all sit around the huge oak table and have so much fun and laughter together.”

“Sounds like the kind of old-time Christmas postcard my ma collects,” he said. “And I can tell you’re pining away for your family.”

“I don’t normally stay here in the winter,” she said. “But Maggie’s volunteer fell sick, and I took her place. Usually, I’m in Kabul and Bagram from March through September of every year, but I always love being home for the holidays. It’s a chance to be with my family.” She looked over, seeing that Beau understood. “What about you? How does your family celebrate Christmas on Black Mountain?”

“Oh,” he said, his mouth curving, “it’s not as fancy as your sleigh ride over hill and dale, but another family on the mountain, Dot and Henry Barker, invites everyone over for an old-fashioned hayride. We get a lot of snow, too, and if the weather cooperates, they hitch up their team of Clydesdales to their hay wagon. They invite everyone down to the bottom of the mountain where they live. Each family brings food for a huge banquet. Henry’s a blacksmith, and his wife, Dot, is best friends with my ma. Jason, their son, ran with us growing up. We were tighter than fleas on a dog.” He smiled a little in memory. “He’s now in the Army, and he’s been in Afghanistan. Sometimes, I get to see him. Anyway, the Barker family puts on this shindig about two or three days just before Christmas for everyone. The families living on Black Mountain always look for ways to celebrate life and do things together. Going for that hayride with the Barker family is the highlight of our Christmas celebrations on the mountain.”

“That sounds wonderful, too,” Callie said softly, feeling encircled by his invisible warmth. Her heart yearned to be closer to him. “I like sharing things like this with you,” she admitted. “I love your stories about Black Mountain and the people who live there.”

“And,” he said, easing away from the shelf, “that’s why I think you love working for a charity. It’s just a big, noisy, crazy family, too.” He grinned, setting his emptied cup aside.

Callie didn’t want Beau to leave. She wanted to keep delving into him as a person. “I love talking with you. You always remind me of home and what I’m missing.”

He smiled a little, settling a cap on his head. “Well, at least you know that next year you’ll be home for Christmas and can be with your family.” As he walked over to her, he lifted his finger, moving a few strands of her red hair behind her ear. Instantly, she felt that tingling pleasure where his finger barely brushed her ear. “Family is everything,” he added. Taking a few steps away from her, he said, “I’d really like to take you to the fanciest restaurant we have on base tonight. Are you game?”

Callie felt herself drowning in his calm gray gaze. Again, she loved that feeling of protection wrapping around her when he looked at her. “Don’t tell me you dance, too!” she teased.

“Well, now,” Beau said, “I might try a slow dance or two with you after dinner, but I’m not exactly Mr. Silverheels out there on the dance floor. I was raised on square dancing, which is like a foreign dance to most folks nowadays,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I’d like to dance.” She saw hope burning in his eyes once more, saw yearning, too, for her. “Okay, a slow dance or two; let’s see how we do.”

“I’m game if you are,” he said, giving her a lopsided smile. He pointed down at his combat boots. “I truly have two left feet, so we’ll have to be careful. I don’t want to step on your poor toes.”

It would be a way to be close to him, and Callie felt her lower body clench, grow achy with need. How desperately she wanted that kind of intimacy with Beau.

“Well,” she said dryly, “let’s take it a step at a time,” and she walked out of the office, hearing him laugh at her intended pun. His laughter vibrated throughout her. Beau pushed every feminine button she owned, and Callie looked forward to tonight and more moments like this. And she knew she’d be tempted by Beau’s masculinity, his longing for her. It would be hard not to take another step toward him. And maybe she should . . .

*

Callie’s nerves were
screaming as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew that Chelsea’s, the most expensive restaurant in Bagram, would cost Beau a lot of money for dinner.

She smoothed her hand down the long black wool skirt she wore tonight with an apricot silk blouse under a black blazer. The outfit brought out the highlights of her freshly washed hair. There wasn’t much she could do with it because it had a slight curl, but it looked nice tonight, a shining mantle hanging loosely around her shoulders.

When Callie turned eighteen, her grandmother had given her a family heirloom of earrings, small white pearls set in gold. Her great-grandmother had passed them on, and now she was wearing them. And the choker of white pearls gleaming around her throat was warm and special to Callie. Touching them, she felt beautiful and swore she could feel the love of her family as she wore them tonight.

Her hands were trembling because she was excited, scared, and torn. Earlier today, she’d seen that Beau had wanted to kiss her after he’d surprised her by placing strands of her red hair behind her ear. It wasn’t anything aggressive, but it was there, as if being gently offered to her for her consideration. The man knew how to fluster a woman, no question. And she was flustered. Her body was hot, hungry, and she ached below, something that was happening more often with Beau. All he had to do was look at her, and she felt herself growing damp.

She pulled on her black wool hooded coat, picked up her black leather purse and leather gloves, and left her small room. Dara had departed with Matt earlier, and Callie wondered if they were over at the Eagle’s Nest again.

She admitted it: she was envious of her sister. She’d have loved to be spending time there with Beau. Swallowing, Callie walked down the hall to the door, seeing Beau waiting for her outside.

Tonight, the sky was clear, the stars glittering in the sky as she opened the door. When she stepped out on the porch, she smiled up at Beau. Tonight he was wearing a suit! It was a dark blue sport coat with a white cotton shirt beneath it, and a conservative blue tie, along with what she thought might be dark blue slacks. “Wow, you clean up well,” she teased, smiling.

“So do you,” Beau murmured, appreciation in his tone. “I should have made a reservation at Chelsea’s before this,” he added. Beau reached around her and closed the door, making sure it was locked. “Ready for a nice dinner?” he asked, reaching his hand out to her.

Callie took it, relishing the warmth and strength of his fingers curving around hers. “I am. This is a really nice break for both of us. Kind of reminds me of being back home.”

“It does for me, too,” he agreed.

She had come to want his hand in hers. This time, as he descended the stairs, he brought his hand against the small of her back, guiding her down the sidewalk. Callie found herself moving closer to Beau, almost beneath his arm. If he noticed it, and she was sure he didn’t miss a thing, he didn’t take advantage of their closeness. As good as his word, he stayed in control of his emotions.

Her heart stirred again with need of him, and she felt caught up in the powerful heat they generated whenever they were together. If only she had the courage to do something about it. If only . . .

“H
ave you been
to Chelsea’s before?” Beau asked Callie as he opened the door to the restaurant.

“No, but I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m in the same boat as you,” he admitted ruefully.

“I’m just a ranching girl. I’m used to the local café in town, not something fancy like this,” she said, looking around. The place was warm and intimate. There was soft music playing, and she saw a big dance floor at one end of the restaurant. A number of couples were already on it, dressed in their civilian clothes. Although there were a lot of civilian contractors on the base, Callie knew that military men and women never went anywhere in uniform unless they had to.

A maître d’ came up to them dressed in a black and white tuxedo, looking formal and somewhat officious. Callie watched Beau handle the situation with quiet authority. It was as if the slick-haired maître d’ knew power when he met it; he gave Beau a crisp nod, walking them to a cream-colored, leather wraparound booth.

Callie noted all the fancily dressed women and the men in suits and ties. She was proud of Beau, thinking he looked every bit as good as the others. And she’d bet a lot of them were officers.

But Beau carried something else: an obvious huge dose of confidence, which made him stand out. Once they sat close to one another in the U-shaped booth, another waiter dropped by to get their drink orders.

“Would you like a bottle of wine?” Beau asked her. “I know you like white.”

“I know most guys prefer beer.”

“That’s true. But none of my team is around to see me sipping a glass of wine,” he said with a teasing grin. “They’d rib the daylights out of me. But I’m always willing to stretch myself, and I’ll try whatever wine you’d like to order.”

“Figured as much,” she laughed. “I like white wine, but I’m not too keen on reds.” He passed the wine list over to her.

“Would you like to pick one?” Beau saw her cheeks grow a little pink. They were both out of their element in this place, and he didn’t want to embarrass her. “Or would you rather I do it?” He’d had training in such details. When undercover, a Delta Force operator had to have knowledge of such things.

“No, I think I can do this,” Callie assured him, giving him a wry look. “Do you like dry, semisweet, or sweet wines?”

“Whatever you want is fine by me,” he said agreeably.

“Are you always this easy to get along with?” she teased, watching his grin widen.

“With you, yes. My enemies would tell you differently,” he added blandly.

Callie held back a laugh. “I’ll bet,” she said. Choosing a wine, she gave the waiter their order and he left. “Wow,” she said, “this is really a posh place, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. Beats anything we have at Black Mountain.”

“I like that you don’t put on airs.”

“Well,” Beau said, “I’d sure get caught in a hurry if I tried.” He absorbed the deep green of her eyes, seeing that she was enjoying herself. He loved seeing her smiling as she was right now. He was finding it harder to fight his attraction to her and was grateful that the white linen tablecloth draped over his lap hid his physical reaction to her.

“I like the music.” Callie enjoyed the soft, melodic sounds. Everything about this restaurant was truly first-class. “I’ve had girlfriends tell me about this place and how much they liked it. Now I can see why.”

“It’s quiet. That’s what I appreciate.” Beau opened her white linen napkin and handed it to her. He then opened his own. “My parents have never been to a place like this.”

“I know Mom and Dad have, but I don’t know about my grandparents. They love their ranch, they love their life, and are fulfilled in ways I don’t think many people ever are.”

“That’s the way my folks are,” Beau said. “They rarely leave Black Mountain. We got our family and extended family living there. All we have to do is walk half a mile in any direction, and we’ll be at some relative’s cabin.”