Axes & O’s

37. Fox

Chapter 37

Fox

Morgan places the star on top of the Coulter Pine, adjusting it until it’s just right. This type of pine is not the best to decorate, and a lot of its needles are missing from the storm, but it does the job.

When I plant her back on her feet, she wraps an arm around my middle and squeezes, taking in the full image of the tree decorated with multicolored lights and green and red ornaments we got years back at a flea market.

“It’s perfect,” Morgan says. “Good pick, Nate.”

Nathan flushes, and I stifle a laugh. “I don’t know if you can say I picked it.”

She cackles, pulling him to her so he’s standing with us, her arm around his waist now, too. All three of us look at our handiwork, basking in it for a moment.

“Now it feels like Christmas,” Morgan chirps.

She’s right, it does. Our cabin went from looking like it does most days out of the year to looking like Santa threw up with the tree and all the lights and baubles we put up earlier. A lot of them Morgan and I haven’t seen since we bought them, opting to go for only a tree and stockings most years. Even when Gabe was here, we didn’t do much. It’s just not something we cared to do. But it makes Nathan happy, and given how Morgan’s eyes are shining and her skin is practically glowing, it makes her happy, too. Though I know a lot of that has to do with Nathan himself .

I study his profile while he looks at the tree, skin reflecting the rainbow lights on his now scruffy face. I left him a razor in the bathroom, but I’ll admit, I’m glad he didn’t use it. The shadow of facial hair on his handsome features suits him. If I hadn’t seen his transformation for myself, I wouldn’t even believe this to be the same man we met two nights ago. His shoulders are relaxed, his eyes are brighter, and his spirit is lighter as if being here took a large weight off his shoulders. The thought stirs something inside me, a feeling of pride and happiness, because I think Morgan and I are partially responsible for that.

His face turns, and our eyes meet. Color rushes from the collar of his shirt up his neck, and his lip twitches into a smile. I abandon my usual non-smile and lift the corners of my mouth until I feel my cheeks pinch.

Nathan’s eyes widen a bit, but then he’s smiling, his straight white teeth making an appearance. “You’re beautiful when you smile,” he says.

Morgan turns to look at me, and my heart stops in my chest. She sees my smile before I school my features back to my normal neutrality. Her grip around my waist tightens, and I know she’s trying to encourage me to smile like that again, but I won’t.

After my accident in the army, the day I lost my friend and the man I considered a brother, I no longer allowed myself to give my happiness, my smile, to anyone other than Morgan. It may seem silly, but it’s not to me.

I know Morgan wishes I’d allow myself to express my emotions the way she and Nathan can. But I learned back then, when I was still na?ve and cocky enough to believe that life was done throwing me horrible curveballs, that smiling, allowing myself to feel deeply, didn’t change the outcome—it just made me vulnerable.

It was one of the issues Gabriel had with me, the reason he ultimately left so abruptly. He’d asked why I couldn’t let myself surrender to him, to my feelings. He wanted to know why I couldn’t give myself to him like I could Morgan .

But my wife is different. Morgan long ago buried herself so deep in my heart, in my very being, that even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t let her go, couldn’t let her go, even if someone tried to carve her out of me. Not only is she marked on my skin, she’s marked on my soul.

Which makes this moment confusing, because I smiled for Nathan. That gut feeling about him being a partner for us was right, and I know what I’m feeling for him goes deeper than anything Gabe could have ever been. I feel like an idiot for not considering what feeling this way could mean for me and my emotions—especially with someone we just met.

“Sorry,” Nathan says quietly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

I swallow the thickness in my throat, and Morgan’s grip tightens almost suffocatingly around my waist as if she knows every thought racing through my mind and can see the fear now flickering in my eyes. It’s a fear I have no right to feel, considering I was the one who urged her to give Nathan a chance. But now, as reality closes in, I’m questioning if I made the right choice. Even if I’ve allowed myself to care for Nathan as deeply as I do for Morgan, I’m a lot to handle—and not just my moods, either, but me as a person.

I know Morgan can handle me, but can Nathan? He’s shown he can handle me physically, but what about when I’m at my worst? When my PTSD flares up and all I do is bark orders and push people away, can he handle that, too?

Can he do what only Morgan has been able to do and handle me outside the bedroom?

“You didn’t,” Morgan says, forcing a bright smile to her face. “He’s not used to being called beautiful. More like rugged, handsome, and scary,” she teases, her arm giving me a reassuring squeeze.

Nathan laughs softly, but I’m not sure he buys it. The comment, however, serves its purpose, and the tension in the room breaks. I embrace Morgan back in thanks as I inhale a soft breath, willing myself to relax. It was only a smile, a fucking smile , and I need to get it together and not spiral. I need to control myself, so I do, taking in another breath and willing my shoulders to relax. Now is not the time to think these things, especially when Nathan could be leaving as soon as tomorrow—a thought that stabs painfully at me even if I don’t want to admit it.

“Sorry, you’re a very handsome and scary lumberjack,” he amends. “Please forgive me?”

“Logger,” Morgan corrects.

“Sorry, a very handsome and scary logger. Now will you forgive me?” Nathan teases. His eyes meet mine, and while they’re still unsure, they’re gleaming again.

My muscles relax a little more. “I’ll think about it.”

“Just think?” Nathan’s head is cocked, his lips pulled up in a playful grin.

His sass brings me back to myself, and I feel the emotional walls I’ve carefully built up reinforce themselves and keep the dam from breaking. I give my full attention to Nathan’s now teasing stare and do what I do best: divert to things I can control.

“I could be persuaded to forgive you,” I say, my tone laced with its easy dominance, one I know will shift the energy in the room.

“Oh?” Nathan’s gaze darts to my lips and then back up to my eyes.

“Careful, Wolfie,” Morgan teases with her new nickname. “My husband is not easily persuaded.”

“Depends on the method of persuasion.” I shoot Nathan a look of challenge, daring him to give me his best offering.

His gaze drops to my lips once more, and I know he’s thinking about our encounter in the woods because he shifts on his feet and his skin flushes before he meets my eyes again. “Fox,” he says after a moment.

“Yes?” I say slyly .

“That contraption you have, the one in your room from the other night, can Morgan lay face up on it?”

Morgan freezes against my side, and I’m no longer ruminating over any of the thoughts I was moments ago. Mission accomplished. “Yes, why?” I ask.

“I have something I’d like to try, but I need your help.”

I stare at Nathan with heat in my eyes. “I’m curious as to how this will earn you my forgiveness.”

His smile is coy as he says, “Because you get to help me make your wife come.”

I chuckle at his brazen statement. The man we met two nights ago would have never said those words out loud, but I can’t say I don’t like it.

“Plus, I don’t want her to feel left out after our little adventure.”

Heat curls in my low belly as I shift my attention to Morgan, who’s already turned on. I can tell by how her nipples have pebbled under her thin sweater and how her arm grips my waist tighter.

“Were you feeling left out tonight, lamb?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

Feeling more like my usual self again, I step in front of her and drag my hand down her sternum then over the plush curves of her belly until I’m cupping her hot cunt beneath her leggings. “Does that mean you don’t want to come then?”

“If you’re offering.” She grins.

I chuckle, rocking the heel of my palm against her sex so the fabric rubs her clit, forcing her to moan. “Your Wolfie is offering. Do you want him to take care of you?”

She eyes Nathan, bratty grin still on her lips. “If you’re offering.”

Nathan steps forward and takes her chin between his fingers. I watch them carefully, the way she looks at him with adoration and a little bit of awe, how Nathan’s eyes overflow with lust and infatuation.

Nathan smiles. “I’m offering.”

“Then yes.”