Wrapped Up In Christmas

His lips twitching, he shrugged. “One way to find out.”

Wielding the scissors for cutting plastic crafts felt strange—frivolous, even. But once he got the pattern in his head, Bodie cut canvas. It didn’t take a genius, just attention to detail. He could handle that. Attention to detail had been key to being good at his job for years.

And yet, crafting in a homey kitchen with the most upbeat woman he’d ever met wasn’t something he’d ever seen himself doing. This saying thank-you for his quilt had him slipping down a rabbit’s hole into so many things he’d never expected.

“How is it you can cut two to my one and I’ve done this dozens of times?” Sarah complained, eyeing his stack that towered above hers.

“Fast learner?”

“Apparently.” Sarah laughed. “I always have to stop between every few cuts to count to make sure I have the right number of block spaces.”

Bodie made one last snip, then stacked the perfectly shaped piece on top of the ones she’d cut, upping her stack. “Each side is the same, so it’s just a matter of getting a plan in your head, then executing it.”

“You’re definitely a planner.”

“If I didn’t know you were a planner for a living, I’d think you sounded disapproving,” he accused.

She shook her head. “Just trying to figure you out.”

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nbsp; He paused in his cutting. “Why?”

“Do you always have to ask the reason for things?”

He shrugged. “Asking is the best way of learning the answer.”

“You have to have an answer for everything?” she pressed, though her tone was teasing.

“Not really.” In the military, he’d followed orders without questioning most of them. It was his job, and he’d done it whole-heartedly—right up to that last mission.

He should be overseas, not cutting out plastic snowflakes at a kitchen counter. He’d dealt in life and death for so long that sitting there felt foolish. He should be doing something more...something that mattered more.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft, sad almost.

Closing his mind to the past, he looked at the woman across from him cutting plastic, letting her fill his mind and light up the threatening shadows. “For?”

“For whatever put that look on your face.”

He winced. “You didn’t do that.”

“I’m the only one here.”

As if he understood everything being said, Harry whimpered, and Sarah glanced over at where he lay in the floor, his head resting on his paws as he watched them work.

“Sorry, Harry,” she apologized. “No offense meant.” She met Bodie’s gaze. “Sometimes I wonder about that dog. He’s either quite brilliant or has really good timing.”

“Probably both.” He nodded toward the piece she was cutting. “Hate to tell you, but you just cut one square too many.”

Staring at the piece, she frowned.

“I’m supposed to be the one teaching you to do this.” She put down her scissors. “I need a break from cutting. Want to decorate?”

Sticking to cutting might be a better idea. But her smile slipping from her face did funny things to his insides and he went against his better judgment.

“Only if I get to use the glue gun.”

When her eyes met his, her smile was back and Bodie was glad he’d agreed.