Tied Up in Knots (Marshals 3)

“Ego?”

I made a noise in the back of my throat and turned to go to the bathroom. “Fine, if that’s your only takeaway, I—”

“Don’t you dare move!”

“Then listen to me, for fuck’s sake!” I yelled at him as I turned.

He threw up his hands in reply.

“Where the combat is concerned, yeah, I think that’s your ego at work,” I retorted, not backing down. “Because the only place you’re not replaceable, where no one else will do, is right here with me. Here, at home—you’re it, and if you’re too stupid to—”

“Shut up,” he rasped, his jaw clenching as he inhaled a breath through his nose.

I crossed my arms and waited.

“I’m a soldier.”

I was going to tell him I knew that already, but he lifted a hand to keep me quiet.

“First before anything, that’s what I am,” he ground out, flicking his gaze up to meet mine. “It’s not going to change.”

“But that doesn’t mean that’s all you are because you yourself have told me it’s not.”

It took him a moment before he gave me a nod. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“And I know you’re not going to change being a soldier.” That hurt. It did. I felt in my heart that he wouldn’t stop doing it for me on the chance his commitment could mean his death. I was certainly taking a backseat to his military career, if I chose to think of it that way. But the other way to see Ian’s choice was through his eyes. Being a Green Beret was part of who he was, long before he met me. It was what made Ian, Ian. His promise to his country meant the world to him, and who was I to make him give that up? And if he didn’t do it, would he still be the man I loved?

“Miro?”

I refocused on him.

“Do you still want me if this is your life?”

I scowled at him and I saw him swallow, watched his throat work, from where I was.

“Yes, Ian,” I replied soberly, feeling the tightening in my jaw, the burn behind my eyes. “I want you, and that’s never gonna change.”

He stood below me, not moving, simply giving me his patented blank stare.

“But let’s not pretend I don’t care and that I’m happy about it. You’re the one who’s gotta think, is this going to be too hard for me to know that; yes, he supports me, but he hates it when I’m gone?”

“I—”

“No, you have to really think about it.”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

I shivered because I was in underwear and a T-shirt and nothing else.

“You being upset ’cause I’m leaving you and missing me and waiting for me to come back—I’m thinking there are worse things.”

I grunted and then gestured at the dog. “You get to dry him now; I’ma take a shower and then I’ll make some dinner.”

He nodded and left for the laundry room where Chickie’s towel was hanging from a peg by the back door.

I was freezing, so instead of putting on clothes, I took a really hot, really fast shower. I was drying off when the bathroom door opened and Ian came through.

“It’s all yours,” I said, stepping aside.

He barred my path.

I stopped towel drying my hair and looked at him.

Ian had beautiful eyes that were this clear, vivid blue, creased in the corners by the greatest laugh lines anyone had ever seen. At the moment, though, they were marked with worry and pain. I felt like crap knowing I was some of the reason.

“I hate that you’re a reservist,” I blurted.

“I know.”

“But don’t ever confuse that with how I feel about you.”

He nodded.

“Are we clear?”

Second nod.

I went to move around him, but again, he stepped into my path. When I smiled, I heard his sigh of relief. “I wanna feed you so you’ll still think it’s a good thing to have me pick you up at the airport.”

He closed the slight distance between us and put his hands on my hips. “It’ll always be a good idea. I’m sorry I didn’t do it before.”

The silky rasp of his voice made my pulse jump, and I moved that quickly from how sweet the man was, to how sexy, to how long it had been since he was in my bed.

When he touched me, the groan that came out of me was needy and desperate. The dirty grin I got from Ian, all heat and lust, sent blood rushing to my cock.

“Oh yeah, I had different plans,” he husked, leaning in and taking my mouth in a hungry kiss that left no question of what those were.

But my brain was playing the conversation over and over and my heart was hurting, so just because he got what he wanted didn’t mean I was ready to go all warm and willing on him.

Easing him off me, I tried to smile and left the bathroom, promising him food as I went.