Page 37 of Over the Top

Gunner shook his head and rushed out of the cabin, grabbing his coat and shoulder holster on the way out. It was cold outside, a gray, wet afternoon with a raw wind that would knock down most of the rest of the fall foliage by tomorrow. It made for quiet movement through the trees, though. He made a full circuit around the cabin, mostly by rote as his brain spun out in every direction and that steel band refused to loosen.

All of his life had been one giant lie. He’d known he was gay since he’d been about fourteen but had refused to acknowledge it. Granted, his old man had been part of that. The bastard had never missed a chance to bash Chas for being gay once the boys had reached their teens and Chas had come out. The only reason his father had let him and Chas continue to hang out together was because it hadn’t ever crossed the bastard’s mind that his own son might also be gay. Gunner had known if he ever admitted to being interested in a boy that he’d have been lucky to live another day.

He’d spent his entire adult life assuming that being gay meant never having a family of his own. Never having a partner to love and live out his days with. He’d been so stupid. So stuck in denial. So afraid to allow himself to be happy. Hell. Had all the past lonely years been some elaborate means of punishing himself for being who he was?

He made another full circuit of the cabin, this one wider. He memorized terrain, scoped out possible escape routes, and considered how he would assault the cabin if he were a bad guy.

Gradually, as the shock of really owning the idea of being able to be both gay and happily in love sunk in, it dawned on him that nothing had ultimately changed. He was still a SEAL, he was still out here doing recon, he would still protect Chas and Poppy from whoever was after them. He was still… himself.

The panic eased slowly as he made a third circuit around the cabin, this one nearly all the way to the base of the hill and back. There was too much brush and cover for his comfort. Too easy for hostiles to sneak up on the cabin. But hopefully whoever’d shown up at that last hotel was on their way to Canada now, fruitlessly chasing the truck he’d planted the tracking burr in.

When he returned to the cabin, Poppy was parked on the floor in front of the television watching some kiddy show with lots of bright colors and noise. She was enthralled. Chas had cleaned up after the meal and was dozing on the sofa behind Poppy.

“Go take a nap. I’ll take baby duty for a bit,” Gunner murmured.

“You sure?”

“We’ll need to tag team the munchkin to make this op work. I’ll take a nap later and be awake the rest of the night. Get some rest while you can.”

“We’re a team?” Chas asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I guess we are.”

Chapter Nine

CHAS WOKEup feeling refreshed and took over Poppy duty. Gunner looked frazzled after a couple hours of cartoons and peekaboo, which amused Chas to no end. “Parenthood’s not as easy as it looks, is it, Mr. Commando?”

“Hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Gunner replied deadpan. But Chas thought he heard a note of honesty in the remark.

“What’s the game plan for tonight?”

Gunner replied immediately—obviously he’d been thinking about it. “I’ll sleep for a few hours. When you get tired, wake me up and I’ll stand guard. Hostiles tend to attack late at night when everyone’s asleep or not functioning at full capacity.”

“You think we’re still in danger?” he asked quickly.

“I think an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of shitshow.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

Gunner shrugged. “I stand by it. I’d rather be cautious and not get caught with my ass hanging in the wind.”

“Hmm. I rather like the idea of your ass hanging out.”

Gunner’s gaze snapped to his, and Chas held his breath for a moment until Gunner grinned and rolled his eyes.

Okay, then. Gunner was settling into the idea of being in a relationship with him. This was good. Very good.

Gunner retreated to the adult bedroom, and Chas turned his attention to Poppy. She was repeating the sounds from the TV, and he thought he detected an Asian accent in her pronunciation. Was she from overseas? Startled, he spent a while trying to capture audio of her baby babble with his cell phone. Maybe one of Gunner’s contacts could identify where she was from by the things she was saying.

He pointed at his chest and said, “Chas,” clearly and slowly.

She mimicked him, enjoying the game but saying “Chi” instead. He laughed in delight and said again, “Chas.”

“Chichi,” she said clearly. She squealed, and he shushed her quickly. Hopefully Gunner had worn earplugs to bed.

They played and watched more cartoons until she started to get tired and cranky, and then he gave her a quick bath, popped her into her jammies, and gave her a bedtime bottle. She snuggled against him trustingly, and he was pleased that she seemed to be recovering from her recent trauma.

If they could just keep her life calm for a while and establish a routine for her until they found her parents, maybe she would come out of this mostly unscathed. He knew from working with little kids that they were resilient beings if they were just given love, support, and a chance to thrive.

---