"I'm deciding which ones to take with me."
"Where?"
"What do you mean, where?" She faces me, puzzled. "Where do you go after Iraq?"
"Quantico." I start to smile. "That's not for four months."
"It'll take me that long to pick them out."
"So … you were quiet because you were thinking of what shoes to bring?" I ask doubtfully.
"No. I had to remember where I put these." A flash of defiance crosses her face. She places a set of white shoes on the counter and plants her hands on her hips.
I wait for her explanation, leery of the kind of dare someone like Katya can throw down.
"I was thinking that these are the shoes I'm wearing to the wedding." The challenge on her face tells me she's waiting for me to squirm.
"I know nothing about shoes, but they look nice," I reply calmly. "You have a date picked out?"
"June third."
"Guest list?"
"Twenty people, give or take."
"Dress?"
"I'll hire someone."
"Honeymoon destination?"
"Seychelles."
"Does your groom get to vote on that?" I ask.
"Nope. And I want three kids." She's glaring at me, getting irritated, upping the ante, expecting me to flinch.
You won't win this one. "Two and a dog." I'm struggling to stay stoic. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach is gone, replaced by lightness and hope I've never experienced.
Pursing her lips, she falls quiet, frustrated with me.
I hold her gaze. "You know Marines don't live in castles like this."
"I don't care."
"And that I'll be in the middle of a war you don't agree with?"
"I beat you there!" she exclaims triumphantly.
"How so?"
"You go off to war and break people. I use my charity to fix their lives when they get back." There's a light in her eyes that tells me she's found her calling.
"So we're good," I assess, unable to help my smile. I'm fairly certain it's the only middle ground we'll ever reach on the issue of war.
Her hands drop to her sides. She approaches me, a familiar glimmer in her eyes as she takes in my bare chest. When she's close enough, she reaches out and runs her hands down my shoulders.
I drape my arms around her, clasping my wrists at the small of her back. She seems pensive once more as her palms trace the muscles of my upper body.
"I figured we could have coffee. Talk things through," I say, tilting her chin up to see her gorgeous eyes. "Get to know each other better. Though I told you more about my background than anyone else knows."