Page 165 of Major Love

I think about it for a moment. “Used to,” I admit. “But it’s different now.”

I’ve got Coleson Construction, a town that needs me, a crew on my payroll – and not to mention my voluntary search-and-rescue winters.

But, most importantly of all, I have my girl here with me.

And you couldn’t get me to leave that for anything in the world.

Case glances toward the bar, the white snow in the square a sharp contrast to his camo.

“You get used to it,” I tell him. “Civilian life’s gonna suit you.”

He’s got his wife and his kid, and a sister who’s going to freak out when he tells her the news.

He’s got his whole future ahead of him.

He swallows hard and nods, midway through closing the passenger door when he suddenly stops himself.

“Shit,” he curses quietly, something catching his gaze in the back of the truck. He looks over at me and grimaces. “You’re not gonna make me use that, are you?”

I glance toward the back window, seeing the crutch that the medical team want him using for the next week because, when he sustained injuries on his side, they also went down his leg and to his boot.

It’s hardly a surprise that Case doesn’t want to rely on a crutch, literally or figuratively. And seeing as I already made him show me his supposedly fucked-up foot I shake my head and he exhales with relief, making me laugh quietly as I clasp his uninjured shoulder.

His foot looks fine but I understand why the team want him taking precautions, although I’m pretty sure they only supplied the crutch in case one of his wounds reopens and he needs extra support.

“Let’s go, man,” I tell him, and then we trudge slowly across the lot – slower than usual because there’s still ice on the ground and Case can’t afford to slip when he’s just got his stitches.

“Is Haven in there?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I rumble, “but so’s your kid, so put it away.”

Case gives me a rough elbow to the ribcage, and I just chuckle, not returning the jab.

And in less than fifteen seconds we’re across the square and stepping onto the sidewalk, the open doors of the bar releasing the sounds of country music into the afternoon air.

“Shit,” Case mumbles again, swiping both of his palms over his dark hair and pushing it back, and I give him a firm clap on the back, silently assuring him that he can keep it together.

But before he can psych himself out, there’s suddenly a squeal in the bar, followed by the thunder of little footsteps and the excited shout of, “Daddy! Daddy!”

And then Case is slamming the door against the jamb and immediately storming over the threshold, everything forgotten as he sees his son and leans down to catch him as he lunges.

Tuck propels himself into Case’s embrace, hitting him on the good side as Case twists his injuries away from him, and then Case stands to his full height again, clutching his kid firmly against his shoulder.

And even though he’s upside down, Tuck manages to wrap his little arms around Casey’s neck, nuzzling up to him.

“Mama said you were gonna be home today,” Tuck whispers to him, smiling contentedly as he closes his eyes.

“Mama’s always right about everything,” Case replies, quiet enough that the other people in the room won’t hear him. I don’t think he’s even seen the people gathering around him yet, totally focused on his son as he splays his palm across his small back.

“You’ve been gone for months and months,” Tuck says softly, and Case shoots me a look, his expression composed but his heart breaking.

“Yeah,” Case rasps quietly. “But that won’t be happening again, okay? Papa had some important things to do, but he’s home now, and he’s staying.”

“You’re staying?” a gentle voice asks, and Case whips around, his chest heaving.

Sunday looks up at him, her eyes wide as she holds back her tears.

And Case shifts Tucker into a more secure hold over his shoulder, and then Sunday squeals as he drags her toward him, squeezing her tightly against his camo-covered chest.

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