to save me.”
He rubs my back briskly, as if he’s trying to warm me. His lips meet my forehead and my cheeks.
I grin. “You’re sweet.”
“I would do anything to keep you safe.”
“And warm.” I nuzzle his chest. “Sometimes I have nightmares about being cold.”
“I’ll keep you warm, Pig.”
“You want to keep me warm on the way to the enclosure?”
“Sure.” He pets my hair and gently sets me down. Then he hops down off the rock and turns his back toward me. “Get on.”
I giggle.
I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his shoulders. “I won’t hurt you?”
“Are you serious?”
I giggle. “No?” I hold onto him, and he wraps an arm behind himself, holding me against him as he picks his way down the hill.
FOUR
GWENNA
For dinner, we hit up Lola Lombardi’s, a family-owned Italian place with a gorgeous, blue-tiled wishing well, ivy crawling up the tall brick walls, and an extensive wine menu.
We park a block or so away in downtown Gatlinburg, and Barrett buys me a rose from a street vendor as we walk toward our destination. We end up each holding part of the rose’s stem, holding hands with the rose between us, which makes me giggle.
The place isn’t too crowded, so we get a giant corner booth—too wide, Barrett claims, for us to sit across from each other, so he slides in beside me. He tells me it’s been years since he had Italian food, which launches us into a conversation about all the countries he’s visited. I brace myself at first, but he enjoys regaling me with stories.
The more we talk, the more we drink, until Barrett kisses my neck and, as he does, he grabs our bottle and moves it across the table.
I shove his chest. “You thief.”
“Non più per te, donna.”
I poke my lip out. “Why’d you take the wine?”
His lips brush the bridge of my nose, trailing up my forehead, and his hand smooths over the hair at the back of my head.
“Why do you think, Piglet?”
“Because you’re a mean ole Bear?”
He shakes his head, smiling sweetly. He takes my hand and brings it up to his head, to the spot where—
“Ohhh. The TBIs. Righhhht.”
He chuckles.
“Did you ever have a seizure?” I ask, wrapping an arm around him.
“Two. One before surgery, one right after.”
I lean against his shoulder. We lace our hands together.
I look at his face, trying to determine if he’ll mind questions.
He smirks. “Thinking?”
“Yessss.”
Our waiter brings a basket of ciabatta and lights the little candle on our table, and when he goes, Barrett looks down at me. “And?”
“And what?” I bring a piece of bread up to my mouth.
“What were you thinking?”
“Oh, just if you had to take anti-seizure medicine, what your recovery was like, that kind of thing.”
“Did you have any seizures?” he asks, poker-faced.
“Some. Right after. I was in a coma for a few weeks, so it was after that.”
His face pales.
I look down at the table. “Sorry. This is kind of weird date talk.”
“Not weird.” His arm comes around me, folding me to his chest. His scruff brushes my hair. “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”
I steal a wary glance at him. “You just looked…”
“I know.” His voice is rough.
I feel him take a deep breath, his chest pressing against me. His eyes are everywhere but on my face, and then they come back to mine, and they’re so intense it startles me.
“I have to know—” His voice roughens on the have to— “But…” His mouth flattens. He shakes his head.
It upsets him. Heat sweeps through me as I realize that’s what this is. It bothers him, hearing about the accident.
I wrap my arms around him, and that’s the way our waiter finds us when he returns for our food order. He gives us a funny little wink, and Bear and I place our orders.
When he leaves, Barrett takes a long swig of his water and turns to me. “In the Unit,” he says slowly, “there are short gunners and long gunners. The short gunners, some people call them assaulters…they burst into places, clear buildings. Do hand to hand. They’re on the ground. Task-oriented. And the long gunners, the snipers, cover them. We’re watchers. But nineteen times out of twenty, you know the person that you’re covering.” He shuts his eyes for a small moment. When they open, they glow in the candlelight like gemstones. “You asked earlier… I am protective.”
I hug him tight and wrap my legs around his underneath the table. “Barrett