I’m still kicking myself over missing the scene with Petr and Harris. I’m not used to people disobeying me, and I’m definitely not happy about not getting to kick Harris’ ass. What kind of Marine isn’t there to defend his buddy in a brawl? Not that Petr needed the help, according to what Riley told me.
I could’ve used the outlet, though. It’s probably the twenty hours of good sleep I got, but I’m wired today.
Petr disappeared this morning to Katya’s event. The house is quiet, with people occupied in the media rooms, gym, bowling alley, stables, and wherever else the Khavalovs have set up to amuse people over the three day party. I’ve never seen anything like this place or imagined that a house would have a full-sized movie theatre, among other luxuries far beyond the normal reach of the average person.
There’s no way Katya could ever leave this behind, and I’m doubting my visit.
Which I hate.
Riley stops Petr’s Range Rover in front of the valet at the country club. Already, the scene appears festive, with decorations spilling out of the club and crowds of people lining up for the sleigh rides or Christmas maze.
We get out. The air smells like peppermint and cinnamon.
Uncertain what I’m doing here, or how Katya might react when I see her, I am determined to live up to my name of Iceman and stay calm. I’m enjoying my vacation so far. Tons of food, sleep and great company … even if there’s nothing between us, I’m capable of appreciating the break.
“I haven’t been home for the holidays for three years,” Riley says. His eyes are glowing as he takes in the scene. “I didn’t realize how much I missed all this shit.”
“None of my holidays were anything like this,” Carson says. His arm is wrapped around a tall brunette model I vaguely recall from a magazine. They’ve been inseparable all day.
“I don’t think the Khavs live the way we do,” Riley comments wryly. “Hey, Sawyer, did Petr show you the ammo depot?”
“No,” I respond, perking up. “Is it huge?”
“Have him take you.” He laughs. I’m not sure why. I can easily believe that Petr and his father both are into weapons.
We head inside, which can only be described as cheerful chaos. People mill, decorations cover every surface, and the scents of food are thick in the air.
It’s got Katya written all over it. Exuberant, bright, overwhelming. I’m better fitted to the austere, less-is-more approach of the military than the colorful fantasyland around me.
Not that I don’t like it. It has the effect I’m sure she wanted. I relax despite the crowd and sensory overload. There’s glitter and brightness everywhere I turn. It’s uplifting, happy.
Riley goes one way while Carson and his girl go another. I follow the scent of baked goods to a catered room filled with pies, cookies and homemade bread. I ate a huge breakfast a few hours ago, when I woke up midmorning, and snag a couple of cookies, unable to resist the pull of real food.
There’s a punch fountain on one table and a cocoa fountain on another. No booze, given the youthful crowd, and I settle for a bottle of water. Once I’ve gotten my bearings, I pull out my cell and text her a message I’m sure will get a reaction. Whether it’s good or bad or even if she’ll respond, I don’t know.
Where are you? Pushing send, I tuck the phone away and make my way through the sweets again, picking out pieces here and there.
My phone vibrates, and I check it.
Petting zoo.
She responded. That’s something. I return to the lobby, where there are candy canes acting as poles that have arrows pointing to all the different rooms. I follow the one towards the children’s section. It’s loud and even more over the top than the rest of the club.
“Captain Mathis!”
I turn at the child’s voice to see little Jacob headed towards me, followed by Jenna and Morgan. Jacob is digging something out of his pocket. I’m hoping it’s not a spider.
“You came!” Jenna exclaims. She’s absolutely adorable dressed as an elf, cute enough that even I crouch to give her a hug.
All three of them hug me. They smell like food and peppermint, a scent I will always associate with Katya and camp.
“I have one more left,” Jacob says, handing me a handcrafted arachnid. “It’s a Christmas spider.”
“I see that,” I say. The white spider is covered in green and red glitter. “Did you make it here?”
“He brought it from home,” Jenna answers for him. “Look, I have one, too.” She proudly points to the spider pin on her hat.
“Me, too,” Morgan adds and shows me the one she has on her jacket.
“You have to wear yours. We’re a team,” Jacob says firmly.
I laugh, not expecting to have left such an impression on them. I pin the spider to the collar of my long-sleeved polo.
“What did you bring us?” Jenna asks.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Not this time,” I reply, smiling.
“Will you next time?”
“From Iraq?” I ask skeptically. “What do you want?”
“A camel,” Morgan replies instantly.
“Desert spider,” says Jacob.
“Maybe …” Jenna is thinking hard. “A pyramid. A little one.”
“Those might be a little bit much,” a woman says from behind them. “I heard a lot about you, Captain Mathis. I’m Morgan and Jacob’s mother, Teresa.”
I stand to shake her hand.
“They had quite the time at camp this summer.”
“They’re good kids,” I reply, smiling.
“Jacob’s talked about nothing but becoming a Marine like Captain Mathis when he grows up. You helped them through a rough patch. I appreciate it.” She smiles at her kids.
“It’s my pleasure,” I respond.
“Are you coming back next summer?” Jenna asks, large eyes on me expectantly. “You can sneak us bacon.”
“More bacon, more laps,” I remind her.
She sighs.
“I’m okay with that,” Jacob says. “As long as you’re there.”
“We’ll see,” I reply. “It’ll depend on my schedule.”
They don’t seem too happy with that caveat. I can plan my career up to retirement but nothing outside. I’d like to say yes. I’m not about to give them false hope if Katya wants me gone for good.
“Are you going to see the animals?” Jenna asks.
“Yes.”
“We’ll go with you.” She takes my hand.
It still feels weird holding the soft, tiny hand of a kid. The three walk with me towards the petting zoo, stopping to marvel at the rabbits wearing Santa hats. I spot Riley, Petr, Carson and his plus one, and the small shape of Katya on the balcony. Her back is to me, and she’s wearing a maroon, crushed velvet dress that falls above her knees and a Santa hat.
Seeing her makes me want to hurry the kids. My gaze skims down her feminine shape. Warmth races within me.
It’s like I just saw her. No part of me believes it’s been a few months since we last interacted.
It’s not the sign I was hoping for. Or maybe it is. It’d be nice to have a conversation with her that doesn’t end in one of us upset. I don’t know if that’s possible when I always have such a strong reaction to her.
“Jacob, keep an eye on Jenna,” I say to the boy. “I’ve got to say hello to Ms. Khavalov.”
“Okay.”
I’m not certain he heard. His attention is on Christmas rats pulling a miniature sled. Not too concerned, I make my way to the group on the balcony overlooking a Christmas maze. My adrenaline is spiking the way it does in battle and around Katya.
“Hey, Sawyer.” Petr grins. “Good to see you.”
I nod and join the circle.
“I see they found you.” Riley indicates the spider.
“Yeah, they did.”
Katya is watching me. I glance at her.
Fuck me. She’s more beautiful every time I see her. I always tell myself I’m not going to let her gorgeous hazel eyes draw me in. And every time she does. Her delicate features are lightly flushed, her gaze unreadable. For the first time since meeting her, I have no fucking clue where I stand.
“So you do like cookies,” she says. Her gaze is on the cookies on a napkin in my palm.
“We all live for cookies overseas,” Riley says and takes one of mine.
Her gaze sharpens. “Petr says you don’t. It’s why I stopped sending them.”
“I don’t like cookies,” Carson says.
She glares at him.
Carson steps back and grins. “I think I hear the cocoa calling me.”
“Ah … yeah. Maybe I don’t either.” Realizing his mistake, Riley replaces the half-eaten cookie on my napkin. “I think I need some cocoa, too.”
Katya raises an eyebrow at Petr, who is trying not to smile.
“So, ah, good to see you here, Sawyer,” he says while backpedaling. “I’m going to make a strategic retreat before my sister body slams me.”
All four of them escape, leaving me with Katya. She gazes up at me, and I can tell she’s as lost as I am right now.
“No one else will tell you this, but your cookies are terrible, Katya,” I tell her.
“Your text etiquette is worse! What is this, Sawyer?” She pulls her cell out and shows my message to me. “You don’t call, don’t text, don’t write …” She’s trying hard to keep the mood light and then flushes. “Well you did write, but …” She clears her throat.
“Want to start over?” I ask with a half-smile.
“Yes.”
We gaze at one another in heavy silence. Any hope I had of not being attracted to her, of not thinking she was the most incredible woman I’ve ever met, vanishes when I’m standing before her again. From the plump lips to her flushed cheeks, I can’t stop scouring her features, trying to memorize them so next time, I’m not caught off guard by her looks.
“Do you want to have coffee or something?” I ask, unaccustomed to feeling so awkward around anyone.
“Yes,” she replies. “I, um, can’t now. I’ve got to keep an eye on this.” She motions to the club.
“Petr told me you set it up.”
“Do Marines like Christmas?” she asks archly.
“Yeah. And this is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She smiles, pleased. “Maybe after this is over?”
“Sure.”
“Can I give you a time range or will that make your head explode?”
I laugh.
“I can text you.” There's an odd look on her features that I can’t read. “Are you staying at the house?”
“I am.”
“Good.” Her voice is soft. She’s staring at me. “I mean … better than destroying the environment driving somewhere in your truck.” Her blush is getting deeper. “Or something. You always do this to me, Sawyer.” Anger flares in her gaze. “You’re so calm! Just when I start to think …” With a sound of frustration, she moves away, thoroughly flustered.
Smiling, I watch her. She doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge me again.
For some reason, it makes me laugh. I have no idea what she started to say, but when Katya Khavalov is too emotional to talk, it means there’s something there.
Something that gives me hope that my trip back wasn’t for a few nights of drinking and French toast. Something that tells me I better know what I want in my life, if I sit down for coffee with her, because things will only escalate from there.
For once, I don’t mind adjusting the career path I’ve carefully laid out, not if she wants to be a part of my world. There’s a shit load of questions to answer before it’s a possibility.
But I’m willing to consider the option that I might need to make a change to where I’m going in life. Our first meeting gives me a good idea of how this is going to play out. What I’m not sure about: if Katya’s figured it out yet or not.