Page 96 of Cowboy SEAL Homecoming

“Find this very intriguing,” Alex returned, flipping Gabe off as he went over to the oven where he could now smell Becca’s muffins baking.

Love? So not something he was even going to contemplate. That was for people who had their shit together. Not that he didn’t have his shit together, but…

Okay, maybe not completely together. Mostly. Ish. Whatever. Wasn’t relevant, because none of this was relevant. So, subconscious him wasn’t as in control as he’d prefer—once everything was in place, he would be.

He flicked a glance at Gabe. They’d been through most everything together since BUD/S. A happenstance of time and place, two kids from opposite sides of the country, completely different childhoods, and they’d landed in that same place.

And been friends ever since. From the navy to the SEALs, pushing each other to do better and to be better. Surviving close calls and then surviving the end together.

If there was anyone he could talk to, it would likely be Gabe.

“Something you want to say?” Gabe asked, sliding into the chair across from him.

It was tempting, momentarily, to spill his guts. But for what? What would it do? So he had some nightmares. So they were currently affecting his life. It wasn’t exactly life-shattering stuff. Gabe had his own shit to deal with.

“Nope. Everything’s fine.” The refrain was starting to sound thin even to his ears.

* * *

Becca found that it was beyond weird to be 99.9 percent ecstatically happy and that 0.1 percent…worried or something.

It shouldn’t matter, that 0.1 percent. Not when it was so small. Not when the happiness and excitement and hey, guess what, not a virgin giddiness was so big.

But it seemed no matter how hard she tried to push it down or away, drown it in memories of last night under the stars or this morning in the kitchen, that little percentage of a percent niggled. Poked.

She shook her head and focused on the work ahead of her.

Knightly had eaten, so she’d been able to forgo the follow-up call to the vet. She’d taken Pal through the therapeutic horsemanship course she’d been setting up for them. She’d been in periodic telephone contact with Monica regarding moving sooner rather than later, if only so Becca could get her mentorship hours underway.

The only thing currently holding them back on that front was housing for Monica and her son. And maybe, just maybe, Becca had concerns about what might happen when Monica finally did show up.

As much as she wanted it to happen and as important as she knew Monica’s role would be to their foundation, she also knew that all three men had reservations about having a therapist on staff.

God knew they all needed it, but…what did she know about forcing people into a kind of healing she’d never had to dream about?

Her phone trilled for approximately the tenth time this morning. Becca knew she couldn’t ignore it for much longer without risking Mom coming out to the ranch, but what did she say? She’d already told Mom she’d be working all day and couldn’t text back. Did Mom want her to get more specific?

That she didn’t want to talk? That she didn’t want Mom to ruin the happiness Becca was feeling? Because as guilty as it made her feel, Becca was pretty darn certain her mom’s reaction about her and Alex would not be a pleasant one.

Well, it’s never going to be, so maybe you should suck it up and deal with it.

Damn that rational voice in her head.

She dug her phone out of her pocket as she led Pal back to the stables, but before she could read the text, a voice greeted her.

“Hey.”

Becca glanced up to find Alex striding toward her from the bunkhouse, where she knew he and Gabe were working. Apparently Jack had been deemed unhandy and relegated to calf duty with Hick.

It was downright stupid how everything in her mind and body just…vanished because Alex was there. But when he was there, tall and strong and otherworldly hot, a damn marvel, it was hard to think of anything else.

Except that he’d kissed her and touched her and made her feel like she’d never felt before. Made her feel like she’d never believed an isolated, bumbling girl like her could.

He was magic, and of course that wasn’t going to be perfect. Even magic wasn’t perfect. She just had to deal with the slightly uncomfortable notion that he had nightmares he wouldn’t address. The sneaking suspicion he might never want to share a bed or those troubled pieces of himself. That wasn’t such a terrible price to pay for this beautiful man walking toward her, smiling at her, kissing her at breakfast, and all the other things.

“I think we’re going to have to call in a professional for the plumbing issues in the bunkhouse. Do have the number for that guy you were talking about earlier?”

“Yeah, it should be on the fridge under the llama magnet.”

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