Page 110 of Operation Sunshine
In only a few hours’ time, he’d have to let go.
The terminal was mostly quiet. Dawn had more than two hours left before it had to put in an appearance. Everything felt oddlysuspended in time. Ben gripped the handle of his carry-on, his passport tucked in his jacket.
His attention was focused on Franco, who looked tired, his hair mussed, his eyes heavy. He stood close, one hand curled in Ben’s sleeve as if reluctant to let go.
“I hate this,” Franco murmured, his voice rough.
“I know,” Ben said quietly. He traced the line of Franco’s cheek with his thumb. “But it’s not forever. You’ll be back in Adelaide before you know it.”
Franco swallowed hard. “Right now, two more months feels like forever.”
Ben pulled him closer. “Then we’ll count the days. Together.”
They kissed once, twice, tender lingering kisses that carried the weight of promises too big to utter out loud.
When Ben pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together. “Franco… you’re my home. Doesn’t matter if it’s Adelaide, Florence, or bloody Antarctica. You’re it.”
Franco made a choked sound, then buried his face in Ben’s neck. “And you’re mine. So I’m coming home to you.”
A final call for boarding echoed over the speakers, and Ben loosened his hold. He slid his fingers down Franco’s arm, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Franco nodded. “See you soon.” His voice cracked.
Ben turned toward the gate, forcing his legs to move. He didn’t look back until he was at the line for boarding, and when he did, Franco was still there, watching, his shoulders squared as if he carried the weight of the whole world on them.
Ben lifted a hand, and Franco raised his in answer.
With his heart both breaking and hopeful, Ben turned away.
I’m going to count the days.
Never mind the days—he was going to count the minutes.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The fluorescent lights of Adelaide Airport were brutal after twenty-seven hours of travel. Franco felt sluggish, as if his body was still somewhere over the Indian Ocean, but his heart beat hard and fast as he stepped through the sliding glass doors of Arrivals.
The crowd blurred together at first, a sea of signs, hugs, yawns, and impatient taxi drivers, but Franco scanned every face, every shadow, searching for the one he needed.
And then he saw him.
Ben stood beyond the barrier, tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair mussed as if he’d been dragging his hand through it for the last half hour, his gaze locked on Franco as though nothing else in the world existed.
The sight punched the air out of Franco’s lungs.
I’m home.
Someone nudged his arm, and Franco turned to see Dan, tugging his case behind him. He inclined his head toward Ben.
“Is that him?”
Franco smiled. “Oh yeah.”
Dan sighed. “Okay, my heart is broken, but I have to admit, you’ve got great taste in men.”
He chuckled, returning his attention to Ben. “Yeah. I know.”
