“Wait, slower!” I called out, saving my daughter from pouring the entire container of whipping cream all over the counter. I supported the end, smiling when she managed to get most of it inside the bowl. “There you go. Perfect.”

Cory babbled behind us, kicking his feet against the high chair as he shoved a tiny piece of strawberry into his mouth. I smiled at him over my shoulder and flipped the waffle iron. Susan had insisted on Belgian waffles this time instead of pancakes since they were more "Christmas-ey." Christmas music played softly in the background, and the tree shone brightly despite the sunshine streaming in.

If Susan was out of bed, the tree was on.

It was the golden rule in this house.

The front door opened, and I stiffened. Only two people had keys to our home: Carrie's mom, and her dad. They didn't often use them, though, and last I heard, they were in D.C.

So who the hell was coming in my house?

I immediately went on guard, tapping Susan on the shoulder. “Stay here, baby, okay? Don’t come out unless I tell you. And don’t touch the waffle maker, it’s hot.”

She nodded, stirring the whipped cream with a frown of concentration.

Creeping toward the door, my hand instinctively went to my hip from my days as a bodyguard, but my gun wasn’t there. Hadn’t been ever since I traded in my security badge and cammies for a computer programming degree. Now I spend my days behind a desk instead of fighting bad guys on the battlefield and off it.

And yet the urge was still there, to reach for it.

Some things never died, I guess.

I crept around the corner, ready to pounce, but Carrie’s parents stood in the foyer, shrugging off their winter coats that looked ridiculous here in California. “Mom? Dad?”

They looked at me, smiling wide. We’d gotten off to a rocky start, with them not exactly approving of their rich daughter falling for the help, but over the years we’d gotten close.

Closer than I’d ever imagined possible.

“Surprise!” my father-in-law called out, removing his scarf.

Mom sniffed. “Do I smell pancakes?”

"Waffles," I said distractedly. It wasn't that I wasn't happy to see them, I was, but they weren't supposed to fly in to visit us until Wednesday morning. "Everything okay?"

“Yeah, of course,” my mother-in-law said. “Carrie in the kitchen?”

“She’s still in bed. Susan and I are cooking.”

She brightened. “I’ll go see if she needs help while you two talk.”

She patted my arm as she passed in a wave of Gucci perfume and high heels clicking on the marble floor. As soon as we were alone, I crossed my arms and squared off with my father-in-law. "What's up?"

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

I rested against the wall. “I figured.”

"Senator Stapleton and I have a big event on Thursday. It came up last minute after we'd already granted most of our staff holiday time to spend with their families and travel." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a big deal, and a great publicity opportunity, but I hate to go back on my word with our staff.”

Stiffening, I crossed my ankles, too, knowing where this was going, and not liking it. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for my father-in-law, but I wasn’t comfortable slipping back into the uniform of a security guard. I’d left that life behind me years ago, and whenever I revisited it, bad shit happened. “Dad—”

"I know it's short notice, and I know it's almost Christmas, but we'll still be back in plenty of time for Christmas." He tugged on his tie. "With primaries coming up, we can't afford to miss a chance to get the goodwill of the people at this tree lighting event. Especially with this current political climate."

I snorted. "No one likes anyone right now. I doubt lighting a Christmas tree will change that…no offense intended, of course."

"None was taken, but I intend to change that."

Yes, he did. It was part of his political plan. It was a good one, and he stood a decent chance of winning because of it. But to leave my family this close to Christmas wasn't something I felt comfortable doing. "Where is it?"

“Utah. It’s a critical state for us.”

I groaned internally. “Mountains or desert?”

“Mountains.”

That explained the winter gear. My in-laws came prepared for winter weather. “I don’t know if Carrie will go for it.”

“Go for what?” she asked from behind me, her voice soft.

"Princess!" her father called, lighting up like he always did when he saw her. "Come here. Give your dad a hug."

Smiling, she came down and hugged him, pulling back to say, “This is a surprise.”

“Yeah, I know.” He patted her shoulders, making her red curls bounce. “Mom’s in the kitchen…cooking.”

“God help us all,” Carrie muttered, making the sign of the cross. “What were you two talking about?”

“Your dad wants me to travel with him to Utah to help guard him and Senator Stapleton,” I said, not bothering to beat around the bush. “Do you mind?”

She frowned. “When?”

“Monday through Thursday,” he said, smiling sheepishly. "We'd be back before Christmas Eve dinner, of course. I gave the employees time off before this opportunity came up, and I didn't want to go back on my word."

“Of course not,” she said, frowning. She eyed me. “Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think?” She bit her lip, worrying about me like always. “Will you be okay?”

“It’ll be quiet. It’s more of a formality than anything.” Her dad approached, rubbing the back of his neck. “Stapleton will have his guy, and I’ll have mine. You.”

“No danger?” she asked slowly.

"I'd be stunned if there was," he answered.

I believed him.

But still…

It had been a while since I’d been in any situations that might spark up my PTSD, and I had no interest in revisiting that world again, but I highly doubted I would have to.

“Are Riley and Noelle coming?” Carrie asked.

“No, they’re staying home.”

She hesitated, then looked at me. “I’m okay with it if you are.”

“Carrie? A little help here?” her mother called out from the kitchen.

Carrie sighed. “I better go.”

I kissed her forehead and then she was off, leaving us alone again. I looked her father in the eye. “No shootouts? No assassins?”

He shook his head. "Absolutely not. There are no threats on my life, yours, or hers. It's just a good publicity opportunity at a few children's hospitals and a fundraiser for natural disaster victims. That's it."

God knows we’d had enough of those this year. “All right, I’ll do it, on one condition.”

He cocked his head. “Anything.”

“Watch the kids tomorrow night so we can go out with some friends before I leave.”

His smile widened. “Deal.”

We shook on it, and I mentally prepared myself to take a step back in time, to a world where I carried a gun, and protected another person’s life with my own who wasn’t my wife…

For better or for worse.