She covered their joined hands with her other one and leaned forward until her forehead was touching his over the tiny table. Her beautiful eyes now shone with such deep love and devotion it humbled him. “I love you too, Murphy Coen. You stubborn, impossible, incredible man. Though I hope you didn’t push yourself too hard to find me.”
He shrugged, one side of his lips quirking into a smile. “I might have pushed a little.”
“You know by now the airports are closed because of the snow, right? I wouldn’t have left here until at least tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.”
“Right.” He kissed her cheek then nuzzled her soft skin. “And now?”
“Now what?” she asked, her voice sounding breathy and distracted and slightly husky with want, just how he liked it.
“Now when are you leaving?” He kissed the corner of her mouth, his breath held until he got her reply.
“Is never too soon?” Shayma bumped noses with him and giggled.
“Never sounds perfect to me, darling.” Murphy gave up the fight and kissed her then, slowly, deeply, sweetly, as the open strains of Let It Snow drifted from the overhead sound system.
End of A SEAL for Christmas