Unbreakable Stories: Snow (Unbreakable Bonds 2.5)

“Hey General,” he said under his breath. “You okay?”

Snow nodded and lifted his beer to his lips. He didn’t meet Jude’s eyes even after he lowered the bottle.

His fucking hand was shaking.

Alarmed now, Jude wrapped his hand around Snow’s wrist. “Come on. Let’s talk somewhere private.”

“Yeah, okay.” Snow nodded and set his beer down on top of a cooler. Squaring his shoulders, Snow took an obvious deep breath, like he was getting ready for a battle. “Okay, we’ll do this,” he whispered.

Confused and alarmed, Jude led Snow into a dense stand of trees, skirting one after another until he couldn’t smell the brats and onions anymore. When he felt they were far enough away for complete privacy, he turned and wrapped both hands around Snow’s arms, then slid them up and pulled him in for a long, tight hug.

Snow clutched him close and held on hard before he cleared his throat and took a step back. “You brought me out here for a hug?”

“Looked like you needed one.” Jude watched something pass over Snow’s face, an expression he didn’t understand. It looked like panic. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Snow stared at him a long time, his throat moving as he swallowed. He kept his gray-streaked hair short but it had grown long enough lately to be sticking up all over his head from river water and sweat. Neither of them smelled terrific, but all Jude wanted to do was pull his man close again and get that look out of his eyes forever.

“Come on, General,” he coaxed, voice low. “Tell me what’s going on in that complicated head of yours.”

“You. With that boy.” He swallowed again. “You should be a father.”

Stunned momentarily into silence, Jude could only stand there, blinking. When he finally found his voice, he knew he sounded as confused as he felt. “That’s…what…I have no idea what you’re thinking about right now. At a loss here.”

“I’m not father material, Jude.”

The utter regret and certainty in that statement tore through Jude with the force of a chainsaw. He felt the physical stab of pain knowing where Snow’s mind had gone. “No, fuck no, Snow. Don’t even start thinking that way.”

“You’d be a perfect dad.”

“No, I wouldn’t. Nobody is a perfect parent. Everyone just does the best they can, raising kids the best they know how. And I can tell you’re thinking that for some reason you’d be holding me back from what? A family?”

Snow nodded. “Kids have never been in my life plan. I don’t relate well to them.”

“Bullshit. It’s different when it’s your own.”

Snow took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “That’s just it. I’m not sure if I want them.”

“Not sure if is better than never.”

His eyes snapped open. “But what if I never come to that place where I do want one? That’s not fair to you.”

“Oh, it is. It’s fair, General. I want you. You are my family and I am yours.” He pointed back the way they’d come. “Those wonderful men out there are your family. We don’t have to have children for me to be happy.”

“But you love kids.”

“I love you. Whatever comes along in our life together is what I want and if someday, we decide we want a child or even two, yes, I’ll be happy about it. And I would love that child something fierce.” He touched Snow’s jaw, running the pads of his fingers over the stubble. “And so would you.” He lowered his hand and pressed his palm over Snow’s chest. “That heart in there is huge and has a lot more room than you think. I know nothing I say will change your mind right now, but you would make a great father, too. I know it.”

The corner of Snow’s mouth turned up and he shook his head. “So, for now, you and me?”

“No.” Jude shook his head. “Not for now. For always.”

“You kill me,” Snow whispered, then grabbed him and pulled him in for a scorching kiss that had Jude’s toes curling in his hiking boots. When Snow growled and stepped back against the tree behind him, then spread his legs and pulled Jude’s body between them, Jude couldn’t stop his moan. He brought his hands up and cupped the sides of Snow’s head. The kiss went on and on until they had to rip apart to just breathe. He rested his forehead on Snow’s shoulder and chuckled.

“I know,” Snow said, voice shaking with his own laughter. “We desperately need showers.”

“I was laughing because you had some crazy idea building about leaving me because of nonexistent children who may never be. But I take it I stink.”

“Pretty much.” Snow snorted. “Not that I’m any better. Whose idea was it to camp in tents again?”

Jude pulled back to look at him with one brow raised. “Until the little boy came up missing, you were having a blast. I still can’t believe you dove off that damn rock. I thought doctors had to be smart to get through all those years of school.”