The picture of Whitney’s eyes had burned in his mind. He fought it. He tried to lock her somewhere in the back of his head, but when he fell asleep she was always there. Haunting him. Reminding him that he had left his mate. He would reach forward, greedy to hold her soft breasts in his hands only to wake up with the cold desert wind on his face. He held his gun to his chest. He didn’t know if and when he could ever get back to her.

She would probably spit in his face. She’d never accept his bear now.

“Ready?” the pilot called over the headset. “We are two minutes out from the jump point.”

Kyle gave him a thumbs up and looked over his shoulder at his team. In two minutes they would be on the ground, heading for their target.

There was new information that he was hiding out in an abandoned hotel. There would be a lot of ground to cover. Operations had linked Kyle’s team with a Special Forces Delta team already in the area.

He waited while the helicopter hovered near the ground. When it was time he anchored his feet to the cord and jumped, rolling out of the way for the next guy.

Once they were all on the ground the chopper took off.

“Brake?”

Kyle turned as a heavily armed group moved toward them.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Jackson Landon.” He pulled down the bandana covering his face. “The guys call me Jax. My team is ready.”

Kyle took one whiff of the head of the Delta team and realized he was meeting up with another bear. They exchanged a knowing look that none of the other men would recognize.

This mission was dangerous, highly classified, and deadly. The only thing going for them was they had just added another bear to the team.

Kyle led his team forward with Jax and his men on their heels. They depended on him. He had to forget Whitney or no one was going to make it out of here alive.

* * *

There were still a few boxes in the living room. She surveyed what she had accomplished in the house. The house would be on the market next week. There was only one more place to tackle. The damn barn.

She hadn’t been in there in weeks. She had avoided it. Sometimes she considered burning it down, but that would be rash and insane. Although understandable considering the shape her heart was in.

She lifted a handful of flattened boxes under her arm and trudged across the yard. Most of the things in the barn she could sell in an auction. She didn’t have any need for the table saws or the tractor. But there were things in the apartment that needed to be boxed up. And she knew one day she’d appreciate having a few of her father and brother’s tools.

She eyed the wall that Kyle had pinned her against as she closed the door behind her. It had been the best night of her life. She sighed and made her way to the workbench.

She had replayed it a hundred times. Would she have done things differently if she had known he was leaving? Would she have handed him her body the way she did? Would she let him devour her? She wondered if he had known and took her because it was the last night. He wouldn’t have to face her again.

She reached for a silver hammer and dropped it in a box. She made one box for trash. One to donate. One to sell, and the last for herself.

The morning passed quickly. She looked up when she heard the rain pelt the roof. The workbench was clear. She examined the tractor and decided to let the auctioneer give her a price.

Then out of the corner of her eye she saw something she hadn’t noticed in the barn before. She walked toward the sheet. She lifted it with one hand and her heart almost stopped when she pulled it away.

It was a bench. A beautiful, smooth bench made of teak. Her hands trailed over the back. Her initials were carved into the wood.

“He made this for me?” she whispered.

It didn’t seem possible. All those nights she had heard him in the barn, the saw going, the lights blaring. This was the project. Her fingers dug into the deep grooves where the W and C entwined.

She turned to sit on it. The anger had been there, pushing her to keep going. It was almost tangible. The rage made her feel alive. It made her stay focused. But sitting on the bench, this beautiful art he had made for her, something else broke free.

The anger ebbed and the tears started. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Behind the anger was something stronger. Fear. What if Kyle didn’t make it back? What if he ended up the same way Sam did?

Whitney let the tears fall, until she didn’t think there were any left.