Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
ENZO
Just for today, I’m going to pretend everything is normal.
All this shit with Thomas will still be waiting tomorrow.
For today, I’m going to trust my friends to have my six.
I talked to the guys about it the other day, after we met to discuss plans for protecting Winter and apprehending Thomas. It was Alec, Knox, Ronan, and Gage—who left his cabin up north after months of seclusion once he learned we needed his help.
“I might have my own shit going on,” he replied when I asked him, “but I’ll never leave a brother in need. Especially not if his woman’s in danger.”
I’m glad to have Gage on our makeshift team. A former Night Stalker, he was stationed at Fort Campbell with me, and he saved my ass on exfils more times than I could count. While it’s true he’s dealing with his own struggles, Gage is smart and skilled and loyal and someone you definitely want in your corner.
As we sat around the dining room table, going over tactics and intel and assigning duties, I was reminded of the strategic meetings we used to have in the Army. It was almost like slipping right back into it—everyone’s posture straightening, casual banter put aside, all of us focused solely on the mission.
Protecting Winter and stopping Thomas.
The first is easier. With Winter here and the property under twenty-four-seven surveillance, it would be almost impossible for Thomas to get close to the house undetected. Plus, we have two people on the night shift now; me, of course, and either Ronan, Alec, or Knox rotating on backup.
As for Gage? He’s on the road, following up on a lead Alec discovered yesterday. While Thomas has been off the grid for the last few weeks, Alec finally got a hit. He spotted Thomas on some surveillance footage from a gas station up near Westfield, about forty miles from here.
It’s not much to go on, but at this point, we’ll take anything.
Winter’s suggestion for using herself as bait is still on the table, but I’m really hoping we don’t get to that point. I’m hoping Gage will have luck on his trip, or Alec or Leo will find something more definitive, or Thomas will finally slip up and give us the clue we need.
It’s crazy, really. All this technology—satellite imagery and CCTV and tracking GPS on phones and cars, plus all this technical stuff Alec tries to explain but sounds like gibberish—and we can’t find this asshole anywhere.
“It’s tough, being in Vermont,” Alec explained in apology. “So much of it is rural. There are so many places to hide. So many ways to stay off the grid. But we’ll find him.”
“And if he comes here,” Ronan added with a narrowed glare, “we’ll know. There’s no way that fucker is getting close to Winter again.”
Unless she has her way and we move forward with this whole trap idea, which makes me feel sick when I think about it.
But.
I’m not thinking about that today.
Today is supposed to be special.
Winter has been through so much, and she never complains. Not about the nightmares or the flashbacks she tries to hide or her struggles to get her business up and running again. She never talks about the fear and anxiety that plague her every day. And while I know it’s hard for her being stuck here—not getting to go hiking or take trips or any of the summery things she hoped to do—Winter never has a negative thing to say about it.
She’s pretty damn amazing, really.
If things were normal, I’d have taken Winter out by now. First casual dates, like brunch at Breakfast Bliss, the all-day breakfast diner with the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had.
I would have brought her on a hike, maybe north along the Long Trail if it wasn’t too buggy. Or we could have packed a lunch and taken the easy loop up and around Pearson’s Peak, stopping to take pictures by the waterfall.
If I could, I’d take her out for a nice dinner—Italian at Mariano’s or the new farm-to-table restaurant that just opened the next town over.
We could head into Waterbury to visit the Cabot Creamery and the Ben and Jerry’s Factory—two places Winter’s never been but would love to see.
But we can’t, because asshole Thomas is still out there.
And while I’m confident in my ability to protect Winter here, I’m not willing to risk taking her out in public. She might be on board with this whole using herself as bait idea, but I’m still not sold on it. Not when it puts her at risk.
So, after some brainstorming the last couple of nights, I decided to do something special here instead.
Is it the same as going out to Mariano’s or tasting ice cream and cheese in Waterbury? Not quite.
Will Winter like it anyway? I really hope so.
To start off the day, I’m in the kitchen, waiting for Winter to meet me out here for coffee like she always does. It’s become one of our things—she comes out all bleary-eyed, still in her pajamas, hair all tousled and cheeks flushed from sleep—and we have coffee and talk until she’s fully awake and I have to rush off to the store so I don’t open up late.
This morning, though, I have things planned a little differently.
At five after seven, Winter comes into the kitchen, blinking at the sunlight streaming in through the windows. She’s wearing my old Army sweatshirt—I lent it to her one night when she was cold and I haven’t gotten it back since—and it’s so long it covers her sleep shorts, making it look like she has nothing on under it.
And that’s something I shouldn’t be thinking about right now. Winter in nothing but my sweatshirt, all creamy skin and soft curves and the tattoo on her hip that I’ve only heard about but never seen…
Fortunately, I’m behind the island, so Winter can’t see what she’s unintentionally doing to me. Instead, she looks at me, then the top of the island; her brows winging up in surprise.
“Enzo?” Her gaze moves across the veritable buffet of food on display, eyes widening as she takes it all in. “What is all this?”
“Well—” I gesture at the plates with a small flourish and grin at her. “It’s breakfast. What else could it be?”
It’s more than breakfast, though. It’s nearly every item on the menu at Breakfast Bliss—those amazing cinnamon rolls, muffins bursting with giant blueberries, stacks of crispy bacon and sizzling sausage, a giant bowl of freshly cut fruit, a mountain of pancakes, and an extra-cheesy ham and Swiss quiche.
“How?” Winter crosses the kitchen, stopping at the island to inspect the food again. “Where did all this…”
“Breakfast Bliss. I wanted to make a nice breakfast, but I thought theirs would be much better than anything I could come up with.”
“But Enzo… How did you get this all here?” Sunlight catches her eyes, picking up sparks of gold and amber amid the brilliant green. “There’s no way you found someone to deliver all this.”
Normally, she’d be right. If we lived in a city, I could easily call a service for delivery. But in Bliss, we have exactly one Uber driver, and he only works from six to eight on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Any other time, we’re on our own.
“I called in a favor.” At her questioning look, I explain, “I asked Knox to do it. He dropped everything off ten minutes ago.”
“Oh.” Winter’s hand twitches toward the plate of cinnamon rolls, but she stops herself. “That was nice of him. But… there’s so much food. And don’t you have to go to work soon?”
“Not today.” Circling the island, I come to her side. “Will is running the store today. I’m taking the day off.” I put my arm around her waist and gently pull her down on a stool, then take the one beside her.
As Winter stares at me in confusion, I grab an empty plate and start piling it high with food. “We have plenty of time to eat.”
Her forehead creases. “Why are you taking the day off?”
I put the plate in front of her, then slide a napkin and silverware next to it. “To spend it with you.”
“You are?” A pleased smile lights her face.
“Yes. I have the whole day planned.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her cheek. “I wanted to do something special for you.”
“Enzo. You don’t have to do anything special.” Winter smiles, and her gaze softens. “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”
“I want to do it.” This time I brush a light kiss across her lips. “And I have lots of stuff planned. So eat up. Then you can find out what we’re doing next.”
“I can’t believe you did all this.”
Winter leans against me, resting her head on my shoulder. Like she’s been doing more and more often, she curls into my side, draping her legs over mine and snuggling into me. Her hair brushes my chin, soft and silky and carrying the light floral scent of her favorite shampoo.
Like our kisses that have evolved from tender to needy, it’s another sign that she feels comfortable with me. Not just comfortable, but like she’s seeking me out, wanting to build the connection between us. From Winter falling asleep next to me as we watch TV, hugging me spontaneously, or shyly asking if I’d sleep in bed with her after a particularly bad nightmare; they’re all reassurances that she wants something with me.
More than friendship, like we talked about the other day. But that can mean a lot of things, and the last thing I want is to move too quickly and scare her. So I’m tamping down my own desires and letting Winter take the lead.
Do I still think about Winter naked every night before I fall asleep? And again when I wake up? Absolutely.
I think about Winter naked a lot , really. It doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it, though. Not until I’m absolutely sure she’s ready.
“It wasn’t that much,” I reply, stroking my hand down the length of her hair. A twinge of regret plucks at my chest. “I wanted to take you?—”
Shit. Stop. Don’t bring up the reason I can’t take her out on a real date.
“It’s been amazing, Enzo.” Winter tilts her head back to meet my gaze. “Breakfast was delicious, and I can’t remember the last time I spent the morning just lounging in bed watching game shows. Probably not since I was a kid, staying home sick from school. I didn’t even realize The Price is Right is still on.”
“I know.” Grinning, I add, “I think it’s a requirement when you’re home sick. Watching Price is Right and trying to guess the value of all the prizes.”
“You’re right.” She laughs. “I always loved the Showcase Showdown . I had a strategy for it and everything. And—” She lifts her chin proudly. “I’ll have you know, I used to win the showcase way more often than any of the contestants.”
I chuckle. “Why does that not surprise me?”
Her lips twitch. “Are you saying I’m competitive?”
“Well.” Gesturing at the game area I set up—complete with a badminton net, cornhole, and an old set of Jarts I found in the garage—I smirk at her. “You seemed pretty competitive when we were playing earlier.”
After our lazy morning, we came outside and spent a couple of hours playing yard games and grilling hot dogs and burgers. I knew Winter was competitive from all the board games we play, but once we started playing badminton, she really let her cutthroat side come out.
There I was, expecting a casual game, lobbing the first easy stroke, and she sent it whizzing back at me like an Olympic tennis pro.
My intention was to take it easy on her. That disappeared around the third time the shuttlecock whipped by my head at the approximate speed of a fighter jet.
I still lost, and I didn’t mind in the least. Not when it meant I got to see Winter smile like that—so happy and excited and proud of herself.
Winter glances at the net before giving me a sheepish grin. “I might be a little competitive. But I blame my parents. Growing up, we’d play games every weekend—board games when the weather was bad, tennis and badminton and bocce ball when it was nice—and they never, ever just let me win.”
“Never?” That seems a little harsh. Now I’m imagining a little Winter fighting tears after she lost checkers for the tenth time in a row.
She grabs my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “It wasn’t bad. When I was really young, we played games I had a good chance of winning. Candyland . Chutes and Ladders . Hungry Hungry Hippos . But when I got older and we moved on to Scrabble and Pictionary and Jenga, my parents didn’t take it easy on me. They wanted me to win on my own.”
A wistful expression moves across her face. “I used to complain about it. Why wouldn’t they just let me win once in a while? But it made me work harder. And when I did win, it meant so much more. The first time I beat my parents in Scrabble, I was so proud. I knew it was a real win, not just something they handed me because I was a kid.”
“That makes sense,” I agree. “My uncle was kind of the same way. Not with games, but doing things around the house. He’d show me how to do something—mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutters, tightening up a loose valve—but then he’d leave me to it. He never hung over my shoulder, correcting me. If I messed it up, he’d show me how to fix it, but he wanted me to feel confident doing it myself.”
Winter strokes my jaw, her fingers soft and warm on my skin. “From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like he was an incredible person.” Her tone dips sympathetically. “You must miss him a lot.”
The loss hits me all over again, pain spearing through me, but with Winter here, it’s not as sharp or intense. It’s like that with all the hard things—missing my team, my uncle, Jeff… Having Winter beside me makes it more bearable. She softens all the jagged edges.
“Yeah, I miss him.” As the sun emerges from behind a cloud, hitting us with a blast of light, I reach over and adjust the patio umbrella so it shades us again. I’m intending to leave it at that, not wanting to drag down the mood, but the understanding in Winter’s eyes urges me on.
After a few moments of silence, I say, “I knew he wouldn’t be around forever. He was fifteen years older than my mom, so he was already retired when we moved here. But he was always so active—working on the house, hiking, hunting with his buddies… It just seemed like he was younger. Like he had more time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I guess… the hardest part is the guilt,” I admit. “Not being here until the end. I could have taken more leave, been here more often. Helped with things. But I was so busy with missions and training, I only made it back here a couple of times a year.”
“But I’m sure he understood,” Winter says softly. “He knew how hard you were working. How important what you were doing was.”
“He did.” I still remember Uncle Caleb telling me from his hospital bed how proud he was of me. “I couldn’t have asked for a better son. And I’m damn proud of you, Enz. Damn proud.”
Shit. A year later, and the memories are as vivid as ever. Emotion thickens my throat as I say, “I just wish I’d known he was sick. When I saw him at Christmas, he looked a little tired, but that’s all. Six months later, he was gone.”
“Oh, Enzo.” Winter surprises me by moving onto my lap. She loops her arms around my neck and kisses me softly. Then she pulls away, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry. But he must have had his reasons for not telling you. Maybe he didn’t want you to see him getting sicker. Maybe… he was too proud. Maybe he wanted you to always see him as strong.”
“Maybe.” As a tear slips down her cheek, guilt crashes into me.
What am I doing? This is supposed to be a fun and relaxing day, and here I am talking about my uncle, undoubtedly bringing up memories of Winter’s own losses, which were so much more painful than mine.
Thumbing the tear away, I say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring this up and?—”
“It’s okay.” She gives me a small, reassuring smile. “I want to know about you, Enzo. Not just the good stuff, but the bad, too. I want to be the person you feel like you can talk to. To not have to always be the strong Special Forces guy, but a person with feelings and emotions and vulnerabilities.”
It’s not something I’m used to, but when she puts it that way, it doesn’t sound too bad.
So I find myself saying, “I never knew my dad. He took off before I was born. It was just me and my mom until I was ten. We lived out in Buffalo, in this little apartment she could barely afford. But she tried. I never went without anything.”
The memories flood back. The apartment she worked so hard to make cheery. The baseball games and summer camps and all the other little things my mom scrimped and saved to make happen. And the night it all fell apart.
“But we didn’t live in the best area, and one night, our apartment was broken into. It was two guys, high as kites, searching for money. I was at camp when it happened, but my mom was home. They beat her up and trashed the place. My uncle had to come pick me up because she was in the hospital.”
“Enzo…”
“She was okay. Bruised, some fractured ribs, a broken nose, but it could have been a lot worse. After that… she didn’t feel safe staying at the apartment. She was worried about something happening to me. So we moved here to live with my uncle. And… It was hard at first. I felt guilty for not being there to protect my mom.”
“Oh, Enzo.” Winter hugs me again and kisses my cheek. “You couldn’t have done anything. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. I do. Now. It took me a long time to come to terms with it.”
She stares at me, emotion turning her eyes a deep evergreen. “I understand.” A long pause, and then quietly, “I was at a sleepover when my parents died. It was carbon monoxide poisoning. Just this fluke thing from a faulty part in the furnace. If I’d been home that night…”
As she trails off, I go cold all over.
So close . If Winter had been home that night, she wouldn’t be here right now. Her life could have ended before she had a chance to become the incredible woman I’m holding in my arms.
“God, Winter.” It’s hard to breathe past the tightness in my chest.
“I felt guilty, too. Why was I still alive when my parents were gone? For months, I kept wondering, what if I’d been home? What if I could have figured it out? Warned them? Would they still be alive?”
She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “It took a long time to accept it. Everything in my life was different. I had to move in with my aunt, I left all my friends, everything was new and scary. But over time…” A small smile curves her lips. “I realized I needed to make the most of my life. Make my parents proud.”
Emotion swells up so quickly I can’t speak for a second. Finally, I manage, “I’m sure they are.”
We both go quiet, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. My mind is full of thoughts about Winter.
How brave she is.
How strong.
This undeniable connection I have with her.
How, before I met her, I never could have imagined feeling this way.
I know it hasn’t been long. And the circumstances aren’t normal.
But somehow I just know .
Damn Finn. He was right.
After a minute or an hour, Winter breaks the silence. “Enzo.”
“Yes?”
“I’m really glad I’m here with you. I just… I’m not saying I’m happy about what happened. With… you know. But being here with you? Like this?” She glances around the patio at all the new furniture and decorations I set up in the middle of the night to surprise her. “I feel really lucky.”
Oh.
“Ah, hun.” My heart swells. I frame her face and press a kiss to her lips. “I feel really lucky, too.”