Page 49 of Cowboy SEAL Homecoming

“Let’s take my truck. I gassed it up yesterday,” Becca said.

They walked out toward the door and stepped out into the cool spring evening. The sun had already set behind the mountains, but the sky was a swirl of pink and purple. They walked over to where her truck was parked on a little gravel square in the front.

Alex held his hand out for her keys, ignoring the hitch in his gut and the hard knot in his throat.

Becca wrinkled her nose at him. “Why are you holding out your hand?”

“I’ll drive.”

Gabe cleared his throat, but when Alex glared at him, he didn’t say anything or make any more noises.

Becca’s attention was on Gabe, as if she stared at him with that soft, probing look in her eye, he’d explain. But after a few seconds, she turned that gaze to Alex. “No one drives my truck but me,” she finally said. Firmly.

He could argue. He probably should. He didn’t like being protected or whatever this was. He could drive. He’d driven in Texas when he’d been out of the hospital and waiting for Gabe and Jack to be released.

Sure, maybe he’d avoided it as much as he could, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it. It certainly didn’t mean he would step down from doing it. He’d gotten over the resulting…trauma of being the driver of the accident. For the second time in his life, he’d had to get over a fear of getting into a car. And he wasn’t a kid anymore. Not afraid.

“You know as well as I do your father never let anyone drive his truck,” she said.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It means I thought that was a particularly good personal rule to follow. So I’m not letting you drive my truck, and there’s no point taking your dad’s truck, considering that it’s not gassed up. So you can get in the passenger seat and let me drive, or you can stay home.”

The funny thing was, as much as he wanted to be irritated, and as much as he was actually relieved he didn’t have to drive, mostly he was just…sort of in awe of her.

Because he could see a change in her. It was actually a lot like watching a new soldier get used to the rigors of military life. Some people withered away or shriveled into something else. Some people got used to it and managed to survive. And some people turned into something amazing—strong and certain where they weren’t before. That was Becca. Growing into this person she wanted to be. By her own sheer force of will.

He admired that about her. Too much for his own comfort. But there it was.

“If you don’t get in the passenger seat, I call shotgun,” Gabe offered in the ensuing silence.

Alex grumbled halfheartedly, but he climbed into the passenger seat as the other guys got in back.

With an all-too-pleased smile on her face, Becca hopped into the driver’s seat and started the truck. She drove them into town, chattering about the history of Georgia’s diner. Mostly stories he’d heard growing up. Histories he’d always known. Nearly folklore and like pieces of him.

They drove down Main Street of Blue Valley, and the stories and the same storefronts he’d always known—they worked though him. He loved it. He still loved it.

Becca parked the truck in the gravel lot of Georgia’s. The last time Alex had parked in this lot, he’d been with his father.

He hadn’t realized that everyone else had started getting out of the truck until he was the last one in it. He slid out, but he knew Becca was staring at him in that way she had. As though she could read every piece of grief he couldn’t seem to quash.

But he ignored her discerning eyes and focused on the small building ahead of them. It was squat, lined with a row of big windows with pretty, red-checked curtains behind them. When he stepped inside, he was greeted by the smell of burgers frying and the sound of people chattering. Two sheriff’s deputies sat at the counter and a variety of old men and families littered the booths and tables in the small restaurant.

Memories assaulted him. Places he’d sat, conversations he’d had, old friends. His mother. High school. Dreaming of making a difference. He’d accomplished all that. And lost it.

It was only when Becca put her hand on his arm that he realized he’d stopped. While the other two guys had moved to an empty booth.

He cleared his throat and followed suit, continuing to ignore Becca’s concerned gaze. She could be concerned all she wanted, but that didn’t mean he had to acknowledge it.

Coming home was weird—that was all there was to it. The first few times he went into places where he’d grown up, it was natural he’d be assaulted by those memories. Natural it would feel a little out of body.

It wasn’t…problematic. It was just one of those things you had to do. One of those things you had to experience. It’d wear off, like everything else.

Jack and Gabe had slid into one side of the booth, so Alex had to sit next to Becca on the other. He could smell her, something feminine and flowery. It was distracting but better than having to look at her.

The wavy hair, the all-too-shrewd green eyes, the compelling dusting of freckles across her nose.

Clearly he was just as desperate as the other guys. They needed to be around women more. But even as he tried to hold on to his usual denial, he couldn’t get over the fact that Becca, well, she was a different problem than he wanted her to be.

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