I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping since the shades were closed and the room was dark. But Carson wasn't here.

I sat up and saw a duffle bag sitting near the closet and so I got out of bed and went over to it, peeking inside. The cabin was chilly, but not freezing, and I smelled the very faint smell of a wood fire burning.

There was a thermal, long-sleeved shirt right at the top of Carson's bag and so I pulled that over my head. I dug through his clothes a little bit more and found a pair of boxers. I smiled as I pulled them on and turned the waistband down so that they would stay up on me.

I went to the bathroom and did my business and used Carson's toothbrush. Then I left the bathroom and peeked down the hall. I didn't see Carson anywhere.

I walked back into the main room with the fireplace and really looked around this time. The kitchen was right behind it–an open floor plan, although because of a bar separating the two, I couldn't see it in its entirety. There was a fire blazing and the furniture was comfortable and rustic, plenty of throw blankets draped on the arms of the couch and side chairs. It was a room that made you want to snuggle up and stay awhile.

There were large windows on every wall with a view of the snow-covered pine trees surrounding the cabin. Snow was still falling gently outside.

"Sleep okay, Buttercup?" I heard as Carson's arms came around me from behind. He kissed the side of my neck and I tilted my head to give him better access.

"Hmmm," I sighed. "Why do you call me Buttercup?" I smiled and tilted my head even more, relishing the feel of his lips on my skin.

There was a slight pause behind me as his lips stilled against me, and I turned to face him. I gazed up questioningly, as his eyes filled with warmth. He looked back down at me in thought.

"When I was a boy, I used to pick buttercups in my granny's yard. She used to hold one up to my chin and I used to hold one up to hers, and when it reflected yellow, she told me it meant we liked butter."

He breathed out, a slight smile on his lips. My breath hitched in my throat, my heart beating loudly in my ears as I took in every word.

"When I asked her how the buttercup made a glow, she told me that anytime you liked something, or anytime you gave your heart away, its glow became a part of you and made you glow too. The very first time I saw you Grace, to me, you glowed. I thought I disliked you," he laughed softly, his expression tender, "but I couldn't deny that you glowed. To me, you shined. And you still do. All these years, Buttercup, and you still do."

I laughed out a small sob, tears filling my eyes as I pulled him to me and kissed his lips. We stood there for long minutes, cuddling and hugging each other close, him wiping my tears away when a few trickled down my cheeks.

"Thank you," I said softly. What he had given me hadn't come in bright, shiny paper, hadn't been tied up with a bow. But it was a gift nonetheless–he had given me the gift of his heart, the gift of the truth.

After a few minutes, when I had gotten a hold of myself, I leaned back and asked softly, "What time is it anyway?"

"It's only noon. You slept five hours or so."

I turned back around in his arms, looking out the large windows again. "It's so beautiful here," I whispered.

Carson nodded. "I know. I love it. Someday I'm gonna buy a place here." He brought his chin down to my shoulder. "Are you gonna let me take you snowboarding? Maybe tomorrow?" I could feel him grin against my neck.

I laughed softly and moved away from him, sitting down on the leather sofa, pulling a throw over my legs. "Sure. I just hope I don't show you up. I hear you're decent but…"

He laughed. "Well, now I'm nervous. Maybe I'll just save my pride and keep you in bed for the next couple days."

He sat next to me and pulled me into his arms so that my head was resting on his chest. I laughed. "Hmmm… you are good at that. It's not a bad idea actually."

He chuckled and we were quiet for a minute as he played with my hair gently and I watched the snow fall.

"Are you hungry? I have coffee made."

"Coffee sounds great. And I'm starving."

"Okay. Oh, I went and got Dylan's SUV while you were sleeping. There was a can of gasoline in the garage. I brought your suitcase in." He indicated his head toward my suitcase sitting by the door, the still-packed bag I had quickly picked up at my house on the way out of town.

"Thanks. That was pretty dumb of me to run out of gas. I'm usually slightly more competent than that." I grimaced.

"Nah, your mind was just preoccupied with other things," he said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

I looked up at him. "Very preoccupied," I agreed with a smile.

He kissed me gently and I moved away from him as he stood up. I watched his muscular ass move in his jeans as he walked to the kitchen. The memory of how that ass felt under my hands, the muscles clenching with movement as he thrust in and out of me made me shiver. Yeah, maybe that staying in bed for the rest of the week idea wasn't such a bad one.

Carson came back into the room ten minutes later with a cup of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

"I remembered how you like your coffee," he said, "but I don't know how you like your eggs. I hope that's okay."

"This is how I like my eggs," I said with a smile. "Thank you."

He nodded, and I dug into my food. I hadn't eaten since the morning before when I'd grabbed a banana on my way out the door to the airport. God, that felt like a lifetime ago. Another life entirely.

I looked up at Carson, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, sipping his cup of coffee.

I put my plate down and held my hand out to him. He sat his cup down and scooted toward me, pulling me into his body so that I was snuggled up against his side.

I nuzzled into his neck and curled into him.

I felt a deep contentment settle through me, the knowledge that I had made the right decision vibrating in my very soul.

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered, nuzzling into my hair.

"Umm, you, me, us." I smiled.

"I like that topic," he said. "What about us?"

"I was just thinking how right this feels. I was thinking how sorry I am that it took me so long to realize it."

Carson chuckled. "It took you a week, Grace."

I smiled, kissing the crook of his neck. "Too long."

He sighed. "You had a few things going on. It was normal that you got spooked by me. I came on sort of strong."

"I like when you come on strong," I whispered.

"I know you do, Buttercup," he said with a smile.

I lifted my head and looked up at him, warmth filling me now that I knew the meaning of my nickname. "Just don't get carried away," I warned teasingly.

He laughed. "Please. You're the real boss here. You think I don't know that?" He looked down at me tenderly. "I'd do anything for you, Grace. I'd slay a dragon for you," he said softly.

I blinked up at him, taking in the sincerity in his eyes, the beauty of his face, the tenderness of his expression. I leaned up and kissed his soft lips, sucking his bottom one into my mouth and nipping it with my teeth.

I grinned up at him and he pulled me in to his side again.

After a second, I leaned back and looked into his face, biting my lip. I needed to ask him about something. He had said a woman's name in his sleep this morning. I had woken up briefly, but then gone back to sleep when he was silent again. I wasn't upset, after all, he'd told me he hadn't been with anyone since me. But I was curious.

"What?" he asked softly.

"Carson," I paused, "who is Ara?"

* * *

Carson

I froze and my heart picked up speed. "Where did you hear that name?" I whispered.

She leaned back a little more and looked at me, her brow furrowed, her large, blue eyes studying my face.

"From you. You said it in your sleep this morning," she said.

I closed my eyes for a couple beats. "I'm sorry. It's… it's not what you might think," I said, worried that she thought I was dreaming about a woman I had been involved with in some romantic way.

"It's okay. We've been apart a long time and–"

"No. I was telling you the truth when I said I haven't been with anyone else. Not in any way."

She studied me and nodded again, sitting up straight, but staying right next to me, our bodies touching. She brought the blanket over my lap too as she bent her legs so that they were under her on the couch.

I leaned back and ran my hand over my short hair.

I was silent for a minute, getting my thoughts straight as she waited me out. I was ready to tell her about this. If we were together now, then she needed to know. This was part of my life.

"Ara was a fourteen year old girl who was raped and beaten by a high value target we had been sent in to kill in Afghanistan. We found her, half-dead from her injuries, and we stayed with her as she died."

Grace brought her hand up to her mouth, her eyes filled with shock and sadness. She removed her hand and whispered, "We?"

I nodded, "Yeah, me and my unit. We had gone in on the mission and we were successful pretty immediately. But when we went in to the warehouse the target had been hiding in, we found some things we weren't expecting, including a whole room of women and girls in the most deplorable conditions you could imagine." I was silent for another minute, picturing opening that door, the smell hitting us immediately as we all recoiled and then shined our flashlights in–eyes wide and scared staring back at us. They hadn't given them access to toilets or water. They were being held like cattle, worse than cattle. When I pictured hell, I pictured that room.