Page 47 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

“I put her to bed.” They already know I questioned her about Alistair. Pretty sure none of us are going to get very far with that line of inquiry for a little while.

I did get her a new phone, though. It’s sitting on a shelf in my basement. While Sloane gets Reese ready for bed, I grab it and my small go bag and wait for her on the couch.

When Reese throws herself between Jack and me, Sloane’s tells start to show. She’s worried about leaving her daughter here with two men she doesn’t know very well.

I’m stuck on how she’s changed into an oversized sweater and basketball shorts. Her hair is up in a messy knot. Fuck, I want to drag her into my lap and discover every way she can fit against me.

I stand up, ignoring the impulse and forcing her to put an end to warring with herself. “If you’re coming, come on.”

Sloane walks to her daughter, kissing her on the top of the head, then turns to pin Hastings and Shepard with her mom glare. “You two be good for her. Reese, be sure they don’t get in too much trouble. Okay?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

With another glance—or glare—Sloane follows me out to my car. The drive is quiet, taking us across town, near her new apartment building and a bit more south. We’ve suspected this warehouse and its owner as a middle man for some unsavory exchanges. It’s a good place to check off our list or catch a lead.

Either will work.

Sloane, as quiet as she is, fidgets more than I expected her to. But the more I think about it, the more I realize she’s always in motion. I doubt her mind ever stops, and it takes tremendous effort to keep it all to herself.

I give her the phone to occupy herself, but she bristles a little. “You didn’t have to?—”

“I said I would. I want your old one once you’ve transferred everything.”

“To trade it in?”

“Sure.” It’s going to be a link back to Alistair, even if she erases her data, or so Hastings tends to remind me. He’ll be the one to dig into it.

Reading something on me, her stare is prolonged. I let her stare for a long time. This seems to settle her because she doesn’t move until I glance at her.

“Something wrong?”

Another few blinks, and I swear she’s digging herself straight into my soul before she turns to the phone. With it in her hand, she gives me a soft, “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The lamplight makes her skin glow golden, and the young woman I first saw her as slowly transforms into this strong, beautiful mystery. One that I want to spend my time solving.

I turn back to the warehouse as she fiddles with it. Watching her is too distracting. When she’s done, her knees draw up into her oversized sweater, and she hugs her knees like she did last night.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I extend my hand for her old phone and slip it into my pocket.

“Did you bring coffee?” Her chin settles on her knees. She’s probably exhausted.

“I did.” I pull a metal mug of the stuff from my back seat. It puts my face close to hers, and her eyes glitter as she peers at me. Sloane’s mouth is soft and pouty, and by God, I want to lean in and kiss her.

The moment passes, and I pour her something hot to drink in the top of the canteen.

Wrapping both hands around it, she says, “I bet there’s no milk or sugar packed away in this car, is there?”

“Nope.”

Her laughter is clear and strikes me through my ribs. She sips the brew without flinching.

Tension blooms when she hands the cup back and our hands brush. Sloane’s slow to pull back, wrapping herself around her legs and watching the small spots of light through the windshield.

I haven’t met many women like her before, especially someone as young as she is. But she reminds me of Mari. Someone meant to be more a partner than to turn a blind eye to the realities of my job and my life.

Doesn’t matter.

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