Page 39 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

He smiles at that. A little one, but it’s so much compared to his usual grave mannerisms. “Sterling Elias Cole.”

That cracks my smile. “That’s a mouthful.”

Old-fashioned. I like it.

Sterling clasps his hands between his knees and nods. “Sure is.”

He watches his hands as I examine the side of his face. His age looks good on him. Rough but not too rough, distinguished, hair silver with streaks of black. Sterling’s mouth is firm but pouty, and the dark dusting of hair accentuates his cheekbones.

I suck in a breath. “So, what’s the plan?”

He peers over at me. “The plan is to keep you safe.”

I doubt it will land, but I give him my best mom look. “But what’s the actual plan?”

The man has enough sense to bow his head and look sheepish.

“Step one. Put you and your daughter in a safe place. Keep an eye on you both. Step two. Find who did this and take care of them.” Nonchalance makes his voice low. Soft.

“Take care of them how?”

Sterling’s gaze flashes to mine, holding it steady. “However we need to.”

I refuse to look away, and we’re in a stare-off again. But I see what I need to see. He means it.

“Okay.”

His hand covers mine on my knee, and I grab onto it lightly, allowing myself that small comfort. Thankfully, Sterling doesn’t pull back.

After a minute, he gives me a tight squeeze and unravels me from my position.

“Why don’t we get you to bed with your daughter? You’ve had a rough day.” He stands me up, and I have to hold onto him to keep my balance.

I’m losing my steam, and fast. I can’t think anymore today. Can’t process. Sleep is my only option. “Good idea.”

Escorted to my bedroom door, I slip out of his grasp and turn into him for a hug.

He hugs me back with no hesitation. One hand unwraps the towel from on top of my head, and Sterling bends to plant a kiss in my hair.

“Go on.” His small nudge through the door propels me to the bed.

I crawl in behind my daughter, and the moment I’m settled, the door closes behind me.

My brain hurtles me toward sleep as one last thought zips through it.

So, this is what it feels like to actually be cared for.

18

STERLING

Seeing the softer side of Sloane digs into the hollow of my chest. She’s strong, and seeing her break, even just a little, makes me ten kinds of angry. I do what I can to keep her from seeing it, but that deep sorrow in her eyes when she finally lets her walls down has my heat spiking and my hands clenching.

The need to protect her billows through me like a wildfire, complicating my already conflicting thoughts, instincts, the gut feeling that after this is over, I’ll have to walk away, and I won’t want to.

But I look at her in those oversized night clothes and remember how young she is.

Closing her door after she crawls into bed with her daughter, I fold the towel in my hands—the one I untangled from her hair—and hang it up in the bathroom before I settle back on the couch. The small warmth from her body is still present in the cushions.

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