Page 44 of Cowboy SEAL Homecoming

It might be your heart.

“I, um, better get back to work,” he said hoarsely, forcing himself to let go of his grasp on her hand. He got up and started walking toward the bunkhouse.

Walking or running?

“Alex?”

He paused in his retreat, though he didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t eat.”

He blinked over at the untouched sandwich on the picnic table and swallowed. “Right.” He grabbed it, not looking at her. “I’ll eat while I work.”

Which was a lie. He was going to give it to the dogs looking at him longingly and work away all the swirling, confusing thoughts in his head.

* * *

Becca woke up three days later to the sound of her alarm and the fleeting memory of a dream she couldn’t quite piece together. Alex had been there, which wasn’t all that uncommon, she had to admit to herself.

But there’d been an…urgency. His hand grasping hers, as though he had to hold on to be saved.

She shook her head and slid out of bed. Dreams were just that, and there wasn’t much point wasting time wondering over it.

She pulled her clothes on to head down to start the coffee. Once they had a break in the calf watch, she needed to head into Bozeman and get one of those programmable coffeemakers. Burt had been wholeheartedly against most technology, and that was one thing she would happily change about the ranch. Introduce some modern practices. Starting with a coffeemaker.

Becca got downstairs to find the coffee was already made and three mugs were set out on the counter. She found her mug and deduced based on the three that were left who had made the coffee—Alex. Whether he knew it or not, he always took a mug her mom had bought Burt for his birthday a few years ago.

But the question remained: Where was Alex? He didn’t generally take food into the living room or bedrooms. He was a little too anal for that.

“Where would I drink my coffee if I were a controlling, neat freak of an ex-soldier?” she pondered aloud into the kitchen.

She had no idea where a former Navy SEAL would take his coffee if not the kitchen, but she did know how to find him. She whistled for the dogs. They usually slept in the mudroom, trained too well by her mother, so they followed around whoever was up first until everyone woke up.

When the dogs didn’t immediately come, she figured he must be outside. So that’s where she headed with her mug of coffee.

She stepped onto the porch and there Alex was, staring off into the early-morning dawn. Both dogs were curled at his feet, and he sipped his coffee as he looked out over the ranch. He looked…focused, but not at peace—which was what she always felt sitting there as the golden ball of sun climbed its way up over the mountains.

Alex’s expression was hard, those grooves around his mouth prominent. He had dark circles under his eyes and Becca frowned. He was working too hard and not getting enough sleep. She was pretty sure he had not eaten that sandwich the other day.

And none of that was her business.

Still, he made quite the picture, even before he turned that golden-brown gaze on her. “Mornin’.”

“Good morning. Do you mind if I join you?”

“It’s a free porch in a free country.”

“Partially thanks to you, I believe.”

He rolled his eyes, but she took a seat in the rocking chair. She sipped her coffee and watched the sun rise in the east.

“You guys have been scarce this week. Must be putting in long hours.”

“Trying to get the bunkhouse ready, plus trying to learn as much about calving as we can before they get here. Funny—when I was a kid, this was my favorite time of year.”

“And now?”

He flashed a grin that hinted at someone who wasn’t completely devoid of fun or humor. “Still is. I never was one for downtime.”

---