Page 61 of Hero Mine

Steam rose in delicate tendrils from a natural pool, nestled in a small clearing just a few meters from the cabin. Smooth stones lined the edges, and the water shimmered in the moonlight, the surface rippling with heat. The scent of minerals hung in the air, earthy and primal. Surrounding the pool were solar-powered lights, making everything more inviting.

Joy’s jaw dropped, wonder replacing her earlier reluctance. “No way.”

Bear grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Way.”

“You have a hot spring?”

“Technically, nature does. I just made it easier to get to and fancied it up a little.” He gestured to the wooden path he’d carefully constructed.

Joy let out an incredulous laugh, taking in the thoughtful details—the stone steps leading into the water, the small shelf carved into the rock for towels or clothes. “You knew about this and waited until now to tell me?”

“Got to keep some surprises, Bug.”

Joy didn’t wait for further explanation. She was already peeling off her clothes, eager to sink into the warmth. The night air kissed her skin, raising goose bumps in its wake, but the promise of the spring’s heat made it bearable.

But when she turned to see Bear hesitating at the edge, still fully dressed, her amusement faded. His jaw was tight, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt like he was debating whether to remove it.

“What’s going on?” she said softly, taking a step toward him.

His gaze flickered to hers before he exhaled, shoving a hand through his hair. “It’s not a big deal.”

She stepped closer, the warm steam curling around them, blocking out a little of the cold. “Then why do you look like you’re bracing for impact?”

He let out a short, humorless chuckle, then, with a resigned breath, pulled his shirt over his head.

The scars were the first thing she saw.

Angry, jagged burns stretched across his back and shoulder, twisting his skin in a way that spoke of pain. Old pain. Pain he’d carried for years without telling her.

Joy’s breath hitched, caught somewhere in her chest.

He turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. “IED explosion. Iraq. We were clearing a compound, and the blast knocked me into a wall. Got lucky, all things considered.”

Lucky? The word seemed absurd in the face of such damage.

Joy swallowed past the tightness in her throat. He thought this was lucky?

Without a word, she reached out, tracing her fingers along the scarred ridges of his shoulder. He tensed beneath her touch, but he didn’t move away. The texture was uneven, a battlefield mapped onto his skin.

“Bear,” she murmured, pressing her palm flat against his back, feeling the warmth of him beneath the damaged tissue.

He let out a slow breath, some of the tension bleeding from his muscles under her gentle touch.

“I haven’t told anyone about them,” he admitted, the words quiet in the night air. “Not even my family.”

Her chest ached with the weight of his confession. “Why?”

He sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Didn’t seem important. Other guys came back worse. Hell, we all know about Derek. He was tortured to within an inch of his life. So this didn’t seem like it really mattered very much overall.”

She frowned, her fingers still gentle on his skin. “We all hurt for what happened to your brother. But that doesn’t mean your pain doesn’t matter.”

He shrugged, the movement lifting her hand slightly. “My dad said something similar not long ago.”

“Your parents wouldn’t want you to keep this from them.” Joy knew that much for certain. Charlie and Finn Bollinger were good people, the kind who faced difficult truths head on. “They’re going to be pissed you didn’t let them know when it happened.”

Bear stared at the water, the steam creating an ethereal halo around him. “It was when Derek’s PTSD was at its worst. It wasn’t the right time.”

Joy raised an eyebrow, her heart aching for the man who always put everyone else first. “Yeah? You try telling Charlie Bollinger that one of her sons was hurt enough to belucky to surviveand she wasn’t notified because said son thought she’d be too busy to care.”