Page 43 of Cowboy SEAL Homecoming

Alex scowled at them. “What the hell are you two assholes talking about?” he growled.

But they got to their feet, walking around the picnic table on either side, then slapping each shoulder as they passed.

“Just proved a point for us, that’s all,” Gabe said jovially, heading for the house.

“What point?” Alex demanded after them, but they walked away laughing to themselves and Becca was approaching and…

What damn point?

“Uh-oh. The guys been messing with you again?” Becca slid next to him and dug through the cooler to get her sandwich.

“I don’t know what the hell they’re doing,” Alex grumbled, staring down at his untouched sandwich.

“Well, pissing you off, if your look is anything to go by. Which I assume was their intention based on the way they’re laughing themselves hoarse. Is this a guy thing or a Navy SEAL thing or what?”

“What?”

“The whole purposefully pissing each other off thing?”

“I think it’s a Gabe and Jack thing.”

Becca laughed, and though they’d been at this thing for weeks, cohabitating and working together, he wasn’t quite over the sound of her laugh. It was always so effortless and joyful. It always spiraled inside of him like a firework ready to go off.

But he never let it go off, because he was a little afraid of the man who’d be left.

“Here, have a Coke,” she said, sliding the red can his way. She gave him a sidelong glance. “You okay? You look…”

“I look what?”

“I don’t know. You look peaked—and don’t ask me what that means. I only know that’s what my mom said whenever she thought I was coming down with something.”

“I’m fine,” Alex muttered.

“You should try tea.”

“Tea?”

“Yeah, there’s this sleepy-time stuff—”

“I’m not drinking something called ‘sleepy time,’ Becca. I’m a grown man.”

She smiled at that, but then she reached across and touched his hand. A brief brush of her fingertips across the top, nothing that should jolt through him like electricity. “Grown man or not, you still need to take care of yourself. We need you around here.” She gave his hand a little squeeze, then moved to leave, but before her hand could leave his, he grasped it, holding her in place.

He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to let her go. This was some link to something that didn’t feel bleak and dark. Her small, strong hand in his—a lifeline.

To what, he didn’t have a clue.

“I told the guys about the name,” he said, his voice too rusty, his grip too tight. “They liked it.”

She held his gaze, though her pulse clearly fluttered in her neck. “I’m glad,” she returned, her voice sounding a little…whispery.

His skin prickled, as though he were neck deep in water on a freezing cold night. As though something important was waiting for him if he only held on to Becca long enough.

But he didn’t have his uniform, and he didn’t have his gun, and what could be waiting for him without those tools?

You’re not a Navy SEAL anymore.

He blinked down at this beautiful piece of civilian life. A cheerful woman with a heart the size of Montana and a smile that did unbidden things to some place in his chest he couldn’t name.

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