Page 33 of Searching for Valor

Izzy nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. She took a sip of the coffee to buy herself a moment. The fact that he’d remembered how she took it, even after everything... it gutted her. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

She leaned back against the side of his truck beside him, their shoulders almost touching. For a few heartbeats, they stood in companionable silence, the cool evening breeze ruffling their hair. It felt nice, this tentative truce between them. Fragile and new, but real.

Finally, Rylan broke the quiet. “Do you… need a ride back to your car?”

Izzy hesitated, torn between wanting to spend more time with him and knowing it was probably a bad idea. But the thought of climbing into his truck, surrounded by his scent and his presence, was too tempting to resist. “Sure, thanks.”

Rylan nodded and opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in, sinking into the seat as he rounded the truck and slid behind the wheel.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Izzy stared out the window, and her mind drifted back to her conversation with Ash. The revelation about Monica’s custody battle had thrown her. Why hadn’t Monica told her what was going on? They used to tell each other everything.

But that was before. Before Izzy had made the biggest mistake of her life and lost almost everything that mattered to her— including, it seemed, Monica’s trust.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Rylan said, his deep voice pulling her from her spiraling guilt.

She glanced over at him, taking in the strong profile, the curve of his square jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he watched the road. He was a beautiful man, movie star handsome. Her gaze drifted to his prosthetic arm, resting on the center console.

She knew some of the story behind it. A mission gone wrong when he was a SEAL—the same mission that had left Shane Trevisano with all those burn scars. He’d endured so much pain and trauma and yet, he was still the strongest, most compassionate man she knew.

Seeing him without his prosthetic this morning, the scarred stump that ended just above his elbow, had been a shock. But she’d been more surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes when he’d caught her staring. As if he expected her to recoil or pity him. As if anything could make her think less of him.

Izzy blinked, realizing she’d been staring. Well, fuck it. She didn’t want to tiptoe around the elephant in the car any longer.

She shifted in her seat to face him. “Why did you kiss me?”

His eyebrows shot up. She’d surprised him. Good. Maybe he’d actually give her the truth.

“That’swhat you’re thinking about?” he said, incredulous.

“It is right now. You hate me, so why did you kiss me?”And why was it so damn good?She decided not to voice that second part, but thinking about that kiss had heat flooding her veins again.

He blew out a long, weary breath. “I told you I don’t hate you.”

“You certainly did three months ago. I saw it in your eyes. What changed?”

He opened his mouth like he was going to answer, but didn’t make a sound and closed it again. The muscle in his jaw ticked as he stared straight ahead at the road.

“I don’t know,” he said finally.

Yes, he was a beautiful man, but those shadows under his eyes seemed even darker than they’d been this morning. He was exhausted and not taking care of himself, and all she wanted to do with reach across the chasm between them and soothe away all of his pain.

She settled for laying a hand on his prosthetic arm. “Are you okay?”

He shot her a sideways glance. “I’m not the one with a missing friend.”

Her throat tightened. He was right. Monica and her kids were out there somewhere, scared and in danger, and here she was obsessing over a stupid kiss. What the hell was wrong with her?

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back. “I’m just... I’m worried about them.”And worried about you.But, again, she kept that thought to herself. “And I feel so damn helpless.”

Rylan’s prosthetic hand curled into a fist on the console. “We’ll find them, Iz. I promise you that.”

She wanted to believe him. Needed to believe him. Because the alternative—that she might never see Monica or those kids again—was too painful to even consider.

“Ash thinks Monica might have taken the kids herself.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue. “To keep them away from her ex.”

He glanced her way again as he hit the blinker to turn onto the road where she’d left her car. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t,” Izzy said firmly. “There’s no way Monica would put her kids through something like this, custody battle or not. She’s not that vindictive or manipulative.”

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