Page 92 of Bossy Hero

“The reflection from the fish tank brings out the blue in your eyes.”

I give my head a shake and click my tongue. “Flattery isn’t going to change my mind about cohabitating.”

“That’s not why I was...” He trails off, and his smile falls, dragging my spirits down with it.

Damn. Why did I bring that up? I should say something before the mood totally tanks.

I’m saved from having to sputter another useless apology when the server appears with our entrées.

I toss him a grateful look. “Thank you, Jeremy. This looks delicious.”

The young man flashes a genuine smile, bowing his head slightly. “Enjoy.”

Alan and I are silent as we begin eating. When I glance his way, he doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he studiously surveys the room, his gaze sweeping from side to side in an arc. He’s always cautiously evaluating everyone around us, searching for threats.

He makes me feel safe, which is probably one of the reasons why I’m so drawn to him. Unlike my ex-husband, I know without a doubt that Alan wouldneverhurt me. Nor would he let anyone else.

And yet, I always seem to hurt him.

Unfortunately, I can’t give him what he wants. No matter how tempting his offer becomes. I’d do it if I could. He deserves all of me. Every cell.

And therein lies the problem. There’d be no part of me left to call my own.

Again.

As a not-so-fun bonus, there’s a nagging fear inside me I haven’t succeeded in vanquishing—will he change once I’m entirely his without reservations? Have I been blind to a monster under the surface?

Reminders from years ago still come to mind occasionally. Of how Alan attacked Travis in the parking lot at Leo’s medal ceremony. While he was doing it to defend me, it was still violent and triggering for me. Then it happened again when he broke Joe’s nose on the night I convinced myself one little date would be fine.

Time for a subject change.

If there’s one way to get him talking, it’s by asking about his kids. That’s what we call his employees. Despite never having children, Alan loves the men and women who work for him like they’re his own. He’s a natural leader, compassionate and loyal. He’d have made an amazing dad if he’d allowed himself that opportunity.

Instead, he became a surrogate father to those soldiers who needed guidance, adopting them like strays and bringing them to Florida where he could watch over them.

It’s beautiful how he loves them.

It’s equally tragic that he never had children. I’ll never forgive myself for the role I may have played in that by asking him to wait for me.

My selfishness where he’s concerned is one of my many,manyregrets.

Determined to get him to stop pouting, I take a sip of my chardonnay and then ask, “Have you heard from Kri lately? How’s she doing in her recovery?”

“She’s been cleared for increased physical activity by her physician, so she started training in the gym at HQ this week. Gun range too.”

“That’s fantastic news. She’s a tough cookie, that one.”

He nods, silently cutting his steak.

“When do you think she’ll be ready to return to duty?”

He tips his head from side to side. “Another month or two.”

Tension pulls up a chair and joins us at the table.

“And Mia? How’s she doing after her fiasco?”

“Fine. A little banged up. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

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