“Ember?” Mom asked, her voice soft.
She would understand. Of everyone in my life, Mom would understand more than anyone. “I never wanted this. Any of this. I just wanted Josh.”
“I know, baby.”
“What do I do? I watched you go through this so many times, but I never really paid attention. I was too focused on soaking up Dad while we had him.”
“Good, then I did my job. You gather those papers up; you stick them in a binder and lock it away in your safe. Then you get a grip and you spend the next week and a half with the man you love. Don’t you dare let the fear rob you of these last few days, December Howard. They’re too precious, so you fight like hell for every second with him.”
Because you might not get another one.
Chapter Four
JOSH
Time was moving too quickly, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it. Somehow the weeks had flown, and we were down to ten fucking days. There wasn’t enough time. I hadn’t done everything around the house she needed help with. I hadn’t made love to her enough, kissed her enough, simply held her enough.
I hadn’t found the perfect time to ask the most important question of my life.
I needed it to be perfect. Not Jagger-ish and huge. No, Ember needed something understated and simple…real. But I had to ask, because if this stupid, nagging feeling didn’t get out of my stomach—well—I wanted my last name attached to her first.
Just in case.
Ember’s hands wound around my waist as she pressed against my back. My eyes closed, and I smiled as peace mellowed every tense muscle in my body. Only December could do that to me, soothe the jagged edges I sometimes felt stayed barely stitched together. I needed to bottle this feeling so I could breathe it in on the long nights to come.
Fuck, I hated Afghanistan.
“Hey,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my back through the material of my button-up shirt.
I covered her hands with my own. “Hey, yourself.”
She peeked around my side, resting her temple against my arm. Her smile was wide and the brightest I’d seen since I’d dropped the deployment bomb on her. “It feels like Rucker,” she said softly.
I followed her gaze to where Grayson stood at the grill, lecturing Jagger about his marinade choice while Sam and Paisley roasted marshmallows over the fire pit from a couple of lawn chairs. All of this, even the sounds of Morgan and Carter bickering from the sidelines…it was incredibly precious. So hard-fought. So easily lost.
“It feels like home.”
She leaned further into me, simply absorbing it. I loved that about her—how she didn’t need to fill every minute with talk. Maybe it was because we’d both suffered loss early, both learned to savor every seemingly ordinary moment.
“Ember, come show Paisley how it’s done. She keeps setting hers up like little torches,” Sam called.
I kissed her forehead, and she crossed our combined backyard to the girls. I liked that there were no fences between our places. It would be easier for them when we were gone. Ember and Paisley would need to support each other this next year.
“How is Colorado?” I asked Grayson, walking over to where he flipped a shish kebab next to Jagger.
“Exactly what I needed,” he replied, his eyes drifting back to Sam. “How are you feeling about heading back?”
“You want to talk about feelings?” I shot him a little side-eye.
“No time like the present.”
Because there might not be a tomorrow.
I watched Ember laugh, the firelight playing along the lines of her face. My chest tightened. We were living in a vise, watching the edges come closer, helpless to do anything but wait to be crushed. Fuck, it sucked.
“I don’t want to leave her. We’re finally together and I’m leaving again. I guess I thought we’d have a minute or two, you know?”
“Embrace it,” Grayson said.