Page 62 of Forever Theirs

I dipped my chin. “It’s easier if I show you.”

Palm pressed to her lower back, I guided her in front of me so she wouldn’t see my back—baby steps and all that shit. In the bedroom, I motioned toward the bed. Keeping the towel wrapped around my waist, I snatched a lightweight button-up shirt off a hanger in the closet and threaded both arms through the short sleeves. Leaving it open, I stepped back toward the bed, feeling her questioning stare following me as I knelt near the nightstand.

Fingers blindly searching beneath the frame, I paused when they brushed against a small metal storage box. Tugging it closer, I clutched it between both hands and rose, perching on the edge of the mattress beside Aspen.

The tiny metal hinges creaked, bits of rust falling off the sides as I raised the lid and peered inside. The sweet woman beside me inched closer, peering around my arm to look inside the mysterious box on my lap.

“They aren’t just pictures,” I rasped while flipping through the various photos and keepsakes for the evidence of my words. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I pulled a wrinkled magazine page free, the paper soft from the number of times I’d smoothed it out over the years. Without another word, I unfolded the paper and held it out to her.

Trembling fingers gently grasped the edge. Holding it out in front of her, Aspen stared, eyes wide and lips parted, at the proof of my awe and appreciation for her talent, which started years before I even laid eyes on her beautiful face. I had no idea then that the woman who inspired me to keep fighting would someday be the one sitting beside me while I shared this secret that only Aiden knew about.

“I don’t understand,” she said after a few seconds of silently staring at the wrinkled picture of a peaceful landscape blooming with pinks and reds from the setting sun. It felt so real, like you could just step into the page and be right fucking there with the photographer. It was as if you could feel her own love for nature in the single picture printed all those years ago. “Why do you have this?”

Careful to not rip the delicate paper, I plucked it from her fingers and laid it on top of the towel covering my thigh. With the side of my hand, I carefully smoothed out the thicker wrinkles.

“My mom would send me all kinds of things during long deployments despite not knowing where I was or what I was doing. She made sure I knew that there was someone back home thinking about me.” My hand shook as it took another gentle swipe along the paper. “This picture was in one magazine she sent, and it spoke to me the moment I saw it. It felt like I was right there, back home, enjoying the country I fought for. It gave me hope of being home one day soon and getting to see that view with my own eyes, reminding me that while I was in a living hell, someone out there was safe and free to take a picture like this. It reminded me what I was fighting for.”

A soft hand draped over mine, stilling the repetitive movement.

“And then when I was in the hospital,” I choked out, “I kept this taped where I could always see it. Every day, pushing through the pain and devastation of knowing the only thing I was good at—fighting alongside my brothers—was done, I’d look at this picture, and it gave me the will to keep working to get the fuck out.”

“I had no idea,” she whispered. Turning, I startled at the silent tears leaking down her cheeks. “I loved this shot. The landscape felt alive with this energy that I had to capture.”

“You did, that time and so many others.” Pulling out a few others I kept, I handed them over to her but continued to stare at the original photo. “You’re talented, Aspen. You’re not just taking pictures that people flip through for a few seconds, then forget about the next. Your shots, what you capture, speak to so many people who need reassurance that there is still peace out there. For me, it was a reminder of what I fought for, that you could be out there doing what you loved because I was out there protecting your freedom to do so.”

“I’m speechless,” she murmured, and I gently wrapped my hand around her throat. “I had no idea that something as simple as a picture in a magazine could do that.”

“There is nothing simple about your photos, Aspen,” I rasped.

Wide dark eyes leaking tears stared up at me. “Thank you. Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s…” She lifted the ripped magazine pages and pressed them to her chest, right over her heart. “Everything. And I’m beyond honored to know that something I did helped you, a genuine hero, get through the hard times.”

Dark times would be a more accurate description.

Words bubbled in my throat, desperate to escape for the first time. Instead of someone sitting there, trying to pull the story from me, I found myself eager to tell her everything.

Hoping that telling her about that last mission would heal the still raw and jagged scars buried deep within me.

Nothing else had worked, but maybe I was simply waiting for her.

For the one who inspired so much hope and determination to push through the pain.

It was time. I needed to tell her my story.

22

ASPEN

With a sigh, Miles rested back on the bed, one arm tucked beneath his head as he stared up at the ceiling. I couldn’t stop my gaze from dipping to take in his defined bare chest because holy fuck, he was chiseled perfection. Who the fuck knew a chest could actually look like that in real life? And then there was the massive cock now hidden beneath the thin white towel. My fingers twitched to skate along his skin, to dip beneath the soft cotton and wrap around his dick.

But his solemn tone brought all those erotic thoughts to a screeching halt.

“It was supposed to be a simple mission.” Even my lungs failed to work as I sat perfectly still, desperate not to interrupt the moment. Somehow, I knew this was a big deal; him sharing any sliver of his past was monumental and not something I should take lightly. “Sixteen children and three teachers were taken from a school and held hostage. Within moments of the incident, my SEAL team was called into action and debriefed on the situation. We were the closest team and the most qualified, since the Delta Force team we were paired with was out on a separate mission. With our military’s vast resources, it only took a few hours to get the information we needed to form a solid plan and move out.”

Needing to be closer, I laid my head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezing him tight.

“We cleared the location of all hostiles before heading down to the lowest room where the heat signatures indicated the hostages were being held.” His chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “The kids were okay. The teachers…” My fingers curled around the worn fabric of his shirt, worry and unease building in my stomach. “They’d taken the brunt of it all to keep the kids safe. Despite their protests, we got the adults out first to get them the medical attention they needed. One by one, we carried the kids out, not seeing a single hostile. Two others and I carried them to the next set of team members, who ran them out to choppers. The hallways in the basic structure were narrow, only big enough for one of us to walk through at a time. With the last kid in my arms and the other two SEALs already gone with their kids, I rounded a corner and froze.”

My breaths came in short, quick pants as I waited, knowing whatever came next would probably haunt me forever.

---