Commodity

“You know…in the mood for kissing and cuddling.”

“It’s only cuddling if you have a hard-on,” Falk mumbles.

“What?” I laugh, and he grins back at me.

“When I was in the infantry, it was acceptable to wrap up in your woobie and spoon with another guy when you were out on patrol. Body heat and protection, you know. Spooning is fine, but cuddling isn’t. The difference is whether or not you have a hard-on.”

I blink a few times.

“Did you just say ‘woobie’?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean, like a security blanket?”

Falk narrows his eyes.

“Don’t make fun of my woobie.”

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. The mental image of Falk—muscled, armed, alpha Falk—holding a bright blue blanket with his thumb in his mouth won’t leave my head. I can’t help it. I laugh out loud.

“Do you still have it?”

“Of course I do.” He pushes back and climbs out of the bed, fumbles in the dark of his closet for a moment, and then comes back with a camouflage blanket. He holds it up near the light of the lantern and grins. “My woobie.”

“Holy shit!” I sit up and take the edge of it in my hands. The material feels light but sturdy and warm. “You really do have one!”

“It’s perfect,” he says. “It’s lightweight, warm, and you can roll it up really small, so it even fits in a pocket if you do it right.”

“So, you would wrap up in this?”

“Yep.” He holds it out and pulls it around his back so it’s covering his shoulders. Then he lies down behind me, wraps an arm around my waist to pull me back to his chest, and coils the edge of the woobie around the rest of my body. “Pretty nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” I press my back against him and tilt my head to the side as he presses his lips to my neck.

“You’re not going to knock the woobie ever again, are you?”

“Never,” I say, turning to meet his lips while holding in my giggles. “I understand now.”

“You’ll never fully understand the power of the woobie,” he says with a shake of his head, “but you have a better idea now.”

His eyes glisten with humor, but I can still see something deeper inside them. I’m not sure if he’s remembering something from long ago or not. I reach out and touch the side of his face, stroking my fingers across his stubbled jaw. Falk drops his gaze and moistens his lips with his tongue.

“All that shit I said before…about how those guys think of you…I’m not going to let that happen.”

I nod, wanting to believe him, but I must not be very convincing. He cups my chin and brings his lips to mine briefly.

“I mean it. I won’t let them touch you.”

“I know you won’t.” I believe the words as I say them, but I also know he can’t protect me from everything. “I think you probably ought to take me out for more shooting lessons though.”

“I will,” he promises. “You should probably start carrying a gun on you.”

I take a deep breath and let it out again. If I were to be armed, he would definitely feel better about it.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you didn’t have me to worry about,” I say.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “It wouldn’t be quite as interesting though.”