hip be damned. He clutched her to his chest so tight he had to be squishing her, but she didn’t complain. She held onto him just as tight.
All these years they’d wanted the same thing. But they’d had different paths to get them to this moment.
What mattered was they were here now.
Jo kissed his cheek. He lifted his face from her hair and her lips found his.
This was new for both of them. They didn’t know what they were doing, but he wanted her in his life. She’d made him realize he wasn’t done yet.
But first...
Elias sat back, putting a little distance between them.
Jo blinked a few times, her eyes darker still.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Come home with me. It’s not safe here. I don’t trust your people to look out for you. And... And spend Christmas with me.” That was about the most outlandish thing he’d ever said in his life. It wasn’t like he had a tree or anything.
“Okay,” she said slowly.
He slid his hands up and down her back. “I want to take you to our safe house here. I don’t want you staying here where you could be a revenge target.”
“Yeah. Okay. Let me just throw my stuff in a bag.”
“We can come back tomorrow and pack up what you need—”
Jo pressed her fingers to his lips. “Elias, all I’m going to have is one bag of shit I care about. The rest can burn.”
She hopped up faster than he could process that statement.
Hell, he’d had to rent a trailer to move his stuff to Seattle. A small one, but still.
He got up and followed after her into the bedroom. Jo already had a large suitcase open and was quickly plopping drawer cubes of her clothing into the luggage.
Elias turned around. From his vantage point in the doorway to her bedroom, he could see the entirety of her home. There was nothing personal here. Nothing sentimental. It was all utilitarian.
Jo moved on to the closet. She didn’t even take her clothes off the hangers, just laid them in the suitcase and moved on to the few things on top of the closet. Most of those she tossed on the bed haphazardly, but one box she paused, taking more care about pulling it down gently and setting it on the bed apart from the rest.
Curious, Elias crossed to it. She stopped what she was doing and watched him. When she didn’t warn him off the box, he gently lifted the battered lid and peered inside.
On top of a pile of cards and pictures was one framed photograph.
Damn.
He remembered that day.
They’d had a rough stretch. This one day they’d gotten to rest, and they’d played soccer. None of them had been any good,, and they’d mostly kicked up dust and made fools out of themselves. What was most important was that they’d been able to laugh. At the end, they’d been sitting around. Jo had leaned against the table next to where he sat. Someone had surprised them, telling them to smile for the camera.
Elias remembered focusing on the person taking the picture, but he had reached over and put his arm around Jo. Nothing handsy, just a friendly arm around the shoulders. But he’d been acutely aware of every millimeter of skin that touched her.
He’d never seen the picture until now.
There he was, younger and less damaged, with his arm around Jo’s shoulders. She looked up at him, a mix of surprise and happiness on her face that he’d never gotten to see before.
Damn.
If he’d ever seen her look at him like that, he would hope that he’d have realized what they were both hiding.
Jo leaned over and looked at the picture. Her cheeks were a bright red that fascinated him. “If you asked me what one thing I’d run out of here with, it’s this box.”
He flipped past the picture to a candy wrapper that was neatly pressed.
She rolled her eyes. “You gave that to me.”
Past the wrapper was a postcard he’d sent her. He’d sent one to all the guys, but really he wanted to send it to her.
Under that were some pictures from a BBQ and other moments through the years. Each one was a candid snapshot someone had captured of him or the both of them.
The more he saw, the harder it was to breathe.
Little treasures, moments she’d held onto.
“Pathetic, I know.” She sighed.
He cupped her face, making her look at him. “No. Not pathetic. Right now, I’m jealous. I don’t have a picture