Page 190 of California Wild

Jesse stared at it for half a second. Torn. He shouldn’t even bring it. There was no point. It would end up locked in a box on base somewhere.

Instead, he unlocked his phone, typing out the only message he had time for.

I love you. Be good. I’ll get details to you however I can.

He hit send, swallowed the lump in his throat, then powered off the phone and threw it in a drawer. No distractions. Not where he was going.

One last sweep of the apartment. The bed was still unmade from yesterday. Their clothes were still strewn over the floor from the weekend.

And then he was out the door.

Jesse swung the door open, one boot already stepping onto the front stoop, his mind three steps ahead—base, gear check, pre-op briefing. He didn’t have time for distractions this morning.

But the moment he stepped out, he nearly ran into Mrs. Elaine Whitaker, his seventy-something-year-old landlord, standingjust outside with a kind but nervous smile, her hands folded neatly in front of her cardigan.

“Mrs. Whitaker,” he greeted, shifting his go-bag higher on his shoulder. “Didn’t know I had company.”

“I was hoping to catch you before work, dear.” She peered up at him, her pale blue eyes warm, but hesitant.

Jesse exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Everything alright?”

She hesitated, then nodded, but the way she fidgeted with the buttons of her cardigan told him otherwise.

“I wanted to tell you in person,” she finally said, her voice tinged with regret. “I’ve decided to sell the property.”

Jesse stilled.

Not a big deal. Not a huge deal. But damn, one more thing he didn’t need on his plate right now.

He dragged a hand through his hair, glancing back at his small, barely-lived-in one-bedroom unit—half of the old coastal house she’d split into two rentals. It wasn’t much, but it was his. A quiet place to land between deployments.

“You sure?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

She nodded. “It’s been a hard decision, but I’m getting older, and the market’s good right now. It is time.” Her brow furrowed. “You’re leaving again?”

“Soon.”

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. “I’ll keep you updated. You’ll have time to figure things out.”

He nodded, stepping past her onto the sidewalk. “Appreciate it, Mrs. Whitaker.”

She watched him go, still shaking her head like he was a grandson she didn’t quite know how to handle.

Jesse exhaled, tightening his grip on his go-bag. Another thing to deal with later.

Right now, he had a job to do.

The base was already buzzing by the time Jesse rolled through the gates. Men moving, gear being loaded onto transports, the controlled chaos of an emergency deployment in motion.

He parked, grabbed his bag, and strode toward the team compound.

Inside, the briefing room was packed. Team guys, officers, intelligence analysts. Jesse spotted Colson at the front, all business, already rattling off details.

“Navarro, you’re late,” Colson barked, though there was no heat in it.

“Still beat everyone else,” Jesse muttered, dropping his bag next to the others.

Colson gave him a sharp look but didn’t argue. They had bigger shit to deal with.

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