Page 53 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

I’m stunned into silence, frozen, and he plunges past how tightly coiled I’ve become.

It also offers me a front row view of him breaking. His hips drive into mine, pressing us together in a steady grind, and he lets out a soft grunt.

Is he used to keeping quiet? Or is this simply one of his contradictions?

Because he just made me feel some very loud things.

Jack lowers my knees, sinking into me and searing me with a kiss so hot that it burns all the way to my toes.

“You are a blessing.” His voice is tender.

Why am I not surprised that those words cut fear into me instead of the joy intended?

23

JACK

One taste of Sloane is not enough. Yet, it feels like everything. I shadow her, unable or unwilling to take my eyes off her.

Sloane's dogged determination is enchanting and distracting. I can see it in Hastings and Cole, too. They stare after her the same way I do, and I can only imagine my face softening the same way as I track her movements down an aisle of inventory or directing deliveries.

She’s less friendly to Kingswell today, but I told her it’s better not to give anything away yet. I mark her performance as polite exhaustion. Certainly, she’s tired after the night she had. More so given her week.

But Kingswell doesn’t need to know that her apartment was broken into. That we’ve moved her and her daughter. That we’re all equally obsessed with her. I will personally put a bullet through anyone who threatens her.

This punk included. Because he certainly is acting like a punk, finding ways to disappear during the day as she processes everything. Given he’s working for whoever wants their hands on Sloane and the conspiracy she’s uncovering…

I don’t peg him as a direct threat. He’s acting more like a put out teen than someone who’s putting in the time planning. A yes man, he does as he’s told. And he doesn’t seem to be trusted with much.

I can see why. He’s left a messy trail, but he’s smart enough to play it off as incompetence. We’ve agreed not to leave her alone with him. With anyone.

Best job I’ve ever had, watching Sloane bend over a crate and how her ass wiggles when she digs through things. I should help, but I can’t watch her as well when I help. I can’t watch anything else when she’s here.

After lunch, Cole goes after Reese, leaving Hastings and me to keep tabs. It’s Hastings’ turn to hover, so I’m at her desk searching for trails from the collection of mishandled inventory. We haven’t found a hard line on who Kingswell is hiding behind, who Caspian Vorn is smuggling for, where they’re taking the mishandled inventory.

Dead ends, all of it.

But my gut is churning. Hard.

The kinds of illegal arms Vorn is usually associated with would not get the kind of inventory they usually push through a warehouse like this. Not in the kinds of numbers they run. Not in the kinds of specialty weapons they prefer.

But those precision barrels and scopes…

They can easily upgrade with those parts.

Another dead end has me standing, seeking out Sloane to soothe the bruising soreness of beating my head against a wall.

She’s halfway to me when I catch her, bright eyed and electric.

Sloane has found something. Finally.

“Come on.” Grabbing my hand, she practically tugs me toward a wide crate marked as mock weapons.

Hastings takes out a Mauser Gewehr 98, a bolt-action rifle. These certainly aren’t the mock weapons they were marked as. Sloane has a good eye.

“How’d you know at first glance?” I ask.

Hastings smiles like he already knows the answer, already asked the same questions I’m about to. He pulls out the bolt and looks inside the chamber before he slides it back in.

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