Page 30 of His to Claim

“What?” she presses.

“They have a tendency to die,” I say bluntly, and her eyes widen. “And, sweetheart, I refuse to let that happen to you. It’s why we keep this—us—a secret and, yeah, we can indulge for the next few days. But that’s all I can promise you.”

She seems to be considering my words then nods again. “Is Archer your last name?”

“It is. It’s also my call sign.”

“From the military.” Her fingers lightly scratch through the hair on the back of my neck. “And you said you were what branch?”

Clever thing. “I didn’t say. But I was Army and then joined Delta Force.”

I’m not sure why I’m answering her questions, but for whatever reason, I do. Maybe because I’m hoping it will help her to understand me better. Not that it actually matters. We’re lucky if we have three whole days left together.

That thought sends a pang through my heart. It makes no sense and I don’t understand it, but I’d be lying if I denied it.

“I don’t know much about Delta Force. What does it do?”

“It’s an elite special operations unit. My team did the highly secretive stuff. We took out high value targets, dismantled terrorist cells, rescued hostages. A lot of cover missions where we worked directly with the CIA. Direct action missions, too.”

“What are those?”

“Raids, sabotage, that kind of thing,” I tell her. No one has ever asked me about my time in Delta and I never planned on telling anyone. But something about Carlotta makes me want to talk, to open up that part of myself which I locked down years ago after leaving spec ops.

“Did you like it?”

I think carefully over her question before answering. “Yes and no. The training was top notch and taught me everything I needed to know about taking down the enemy. My team was the best. I made a lot of great connections and maintained them. It’s one of the reasons I can find out information so quickly and easily. And nothing gave me greater satisfaction than eliminating another bad guy.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ in there,” she says quietly.

“But it took its toll. Some days, it’s still taking its toll.”

“How? Do you mean like with nightmares? Or regrets?”

“Neither,” I tell her, trying to figure out the best way to explain what I mean. “I don’t regret anything I’ve done or had to do to protect others. And I don’t lose sleep over the evil men I’ve killed.”

“Then what do you mean it took its toll?”

“Because of what I’ve done and been through, it’s impossible for me to have a normal relationship.” She frowns and I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “I’m broken, Carlotta. In such a significant way that I can’t ever feel whole again. I accept who I am and what I’ve done, but I don’t expect anyone else to settle for whatever pieces are left of me.”

“I think sometimes two broken people can come together and help each other. They can fill the holes and empty spaces. They can offer their pieces and, somehow, they complete each other.”

“Maybe in the movies and books. But in real life, that just doesn’t happen. There is no happily ever after for someone like me.”

“Maybe you need to have a little faith, Damon Archer.”

I’m done talking about such serious stuff and wasting time. I’ll never be able to be fixed and it doesn’t matter what Carlotta believes. I know the sad truth and nothing can truly repair my soul. I’ve seen and done too much.

“I’m a faithless man, Lottie.” I keep my tone light and slap her ass. “Now how about some coffee? Maybe a walk in the woods this morning?”

I get up and walk toward the small kitchen, swiping up my pajama bottoms on the way. I can feel her eyes on my backside and I glance over my shoulder.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” I ask.

“Yes,” she purrs, also standing up. But she keeps the blanket wrapped around her naked body. I catch glimpses of skin here or there, but definitely not enough.

“Why don’t you leave that blanket out here?” I suggest, slipping on my bottoms as she heads to the bathroom.

She lets out a low, throaty chuckle. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

---