“The kids are asleep already,” Rebecca said quietly as she opened the front door, purse slung over her shoulder and keys in hand.

“Okay, great,” Sarah said, dropping her own purse and overnight bag to the floor.  “I’ll just crash on the sofa if you end up staying at the hospital overnight.  Any word on Alison?”

“She’s on something to slow her contractions—some type of IV drip.  They’re hoping to at least stall labor for a few days.  They’ll probably keep her overnight for monitoring, but we’re hoping she can head home in the morning.”

“Did they get ahold of Evan?”

“I don’t think so,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.  “I haven’t heard from Captain Mitchell either—Ryan,” she amended.  “I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Were you watching the news today?” Sarah asked, eyeing the other woman carefully.  She didn’t want to upset Rebecca or say something she shouldn’t, but it seemed pretty obvious where the team was.

“Yeah.  I guess you’re thinking the same thing I am?”

“Yep,” Sarah said with a frown.  “I don’t like it.  I mean I’m glad they’re rescuing her, but the play-by-play on national television?  Not cool.  I don’t know the first thing about conducting secret ops, but even I can figure out that giving it constant media attention is a no-go.”

Rebecca wrung her hands together.  “I flat-out asked Patrick if that’s where they were going.”

“Let me guess—he wouldn’t tell you.”

“He couldn’t.  Which I understand, but I’m just beside myself with worry.”

“That’s his job,” Sarah said.  “He can’t tell us all the dirty details.  And trust me—I doubt we would want to even know half of what those guys do.”

“You’re right; I just get nervous every time he’s gone.”  Rebecca glanced down at her phone.  “I should get to the hospital.  Alison’s been by herself for hours.  I know she has friends that work there, but they’re still on their shifts and can’t wait with her in the maternity ward.”

“Of course.  Go!  Don’t worry about a thing.  The kids and I will be fine and whip-up some yummy pancakes in the morning.”

“I’m hoping to be back before then.”

“And if you’re not—it’s not a big deal.”

“All right.  Text me if you need anything.  Or if you hear anything about—well, you know.”  The two women exchanged a knowing look.

“I parked down the block,” Sarah said.  “I wasn’t sure which side of the garage you were on and didn’t want to block the driveway.”

“Thanks.  And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your coming all the way back to watch the kids.  I know you just drove back to Norfolk last night.”

“It’s no problem—I’m only an hour away.  I’ll talk to you later on—or in the morning.”

The women said their goodbyes, and Sarah shut the door of her brother’s house.  She felt on-edge as she paced the front hall.  Why did she have such a bad feeling about things?  Patrick deployed all the time.  This is what the entire team was trained to do.  Just because this particular mission seemed to be playing out on the national news didn’t make it any different.

She had half a mind to call up Ryan, but that was crazy.  He was busy running things on base. Large and in charge.  Wasn’t that where he’d rushed off to Saturday night?  Why waste time on the beach with her when he had missions to plan?  He may have insisted on giving her a ride back, but he left when she walked back to Morgan.

Besides, she didn’t even know the man’s number.  Even if she wanted to call him for reassurances, she couldn’t.  He was probably too busy running things at Little Creek to give her a second thought anyway.

***

Ryan clenched his jaw as the images shook on the screen as the men parachuting in hit the ground running.  The Black Hawk had flown dangerously close to the mountains, but it didn’t appear that the insurgents at the camp knew they were coming.  No more movement than usual was showing on the drone feed.  The cover of night was exactly what they needed.

Patrick led the assault, his weapon moving back and forth as he scanned the area, flanked by Mike, who was aiming his own weapon.

“Damn this desert air,” he muttered.

“You boys need to toughen up,” Matthew drawled behind them.  “I’ll take this over Florida’s humidity any day.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Brent said.  “The desert is goddamn awful.”

“Enough,” Patrick bit out.

The other men followed in groups of two, crouching low to the ground behind Patrick and Mike as they ran toward the terrorist camp.  Ryan could watch the feed from anyone on both of the SEAL teams.  It was almost like he was right there as the situation unfolded, except he couldn’t do a damn thing to help them if anything went awry.

He clenched his fist as his gaze followed the feed from each of the men.  Nothing like watching the big game without being able to join in.

Fucking hell.

“Two guards on the outskirts,” Patrick said quietly into his mouthpiece.

“Both heavily armed,” Mike said.  “Assault rifles, looks like grenades and a rocket launcher.”

“Delta team is in position on the desert side,” Hunter said through the headsets.  “More heavily guarded here—five, no, make that six insurgents. Although it looks like one of them may be sleeping.”

“Fucking hell,” Brent spat out.

“Are the drones still overhead?” Christopher asked.

“Affirmative,” Ryan said, crossing his arms as he stood watching from Little Creek.  “No movement inside the camp.”

“Looks like we’re about to give them a little wake-up call,” Matthew drawled, training his assault rifle on one of the guards.

“Positions?” Ryan asked, clenching his jaw.

The affirmative replies came over the headsets.

“Move in,” he commanded.

Gunfire broke out on the desert side of camp, where Hunter’s Delta Team was.  Matthew and Brent took out the guards on the mountain side as Patrick and Mike swept into the camp area.  Ryan’s gut clenched as he wondered about the American woman.  Had she been fed during her captivity?  Injured?  Would she be able to run out of camp on her own?

No doubt a group of SEALs rushing in wearing full combat gear, heavily armed, would frighten her more.  There was no telling how a hostage would react in a situation like this.  Panic, fear, disorientation, adrenaline—anything was within the scope of possibility.

And would she even be able to run out of camp on her own?  Any of the men could carry her out, but it would slow down their escape.  Prevent them from fighting the insurgents.  The tent she was believed to be held in was located near the mountain range side of camp, and Patrick and the Alpha SEAL team would head there first.  There was always the possibility their intel was bad.  That they’d go in and find nothing.

Plan B involved clearing every damn hut until they found her.  Destroying anyone who crossed their path.  He didn’t want it to come to that option.

“Five guards taken out,” Hunter’s voice said over the headset.  “We’re inside camp.”

“Roger that.  We’re making our approach.  Third hut over,” Mike said on his headset.

“One guard outside,” Patrick said.

The grainy image of a lone man outside the hut filled the screen as Ryan watched.  Mike’s laser scope aimed at the guard from one hundred feet away, and a moment later, the man slumped over.

“Man out,” Mike said.  “We’re heading for the package.”

“Easy does it, boys,” Hunter said.  “I hope to hell she doesn’t run out of there screaming. That’s all we need—a panicked woman.”

“Fucking hell,” Brent growled.  “She’s a damn hostage.  You worry about the insurgents, our team will worry about her.”

Patrick and Mike hustled toward the hut as the sounds of more gunfire erupted.

“They know we’re here,” Ryan said coolly, assessing the situation as he watched the live feed on the massive TV screen back in Little Creek.  “Let’s grab her and go.”

“Just took two more out on the perimeter,” Matthew drawled.  “Looks like we have company.”

A different grainy image of the hut came into view as Patrick’s night-vision goggles scanned the area.  Ryan clenched his jaw as Patrick and Mike approached, ducking low as they hustled over.

 “We’re on your six, Ice,” Christopher said as he and Evan swept in behind Patrick and Mike.  “Grab the package and let’s go.”

“I’m going in,” Mike said, kicking open the flimsy door.

A woman’s scream pierced the air, and suddenly there was a small explosion.

“Shit,” Christopher said as he ran forward.  “Ice is down.  I repeat, Ice is down.”  The camera feed from Christopher’s headset wobbled as he ducked down and hefted Patrick up over his shoulder.

“Damn it,” Ryan said, his gaze narrowing at the screen.  “What’s his condition?”

“Fuck, he’s bleeding out!” Evan said.  “Get him the hell out of here!”

Mike suddenly emerged from the hut, the woman cowering behind him.  She barely came up to his shoulder, and in the commotion, Ryan couldn’t assess her condition.

“We have the package,” Mike said into his headset.  “Duck!”

Gunfire suddenly erupted again, and Hunter and one of his men headed their way.  “Let’s roll out!” Hunter shouted.  “Move!”

“Call in the helo,” Evan said as the men began to move back through the camp.  He slung one of Patrick’s arms over his shoulder to help Christopher drag him out.  “Ice needs medical attention.”

“Get him out of here so I can patch up his wounds,” Mike grit out.  “Apply pressure to the bleeding.  Hurry!”

He tucked the small woman under one of his arms and half-dragged her forward as the team headed back toward the mountains they’d come in by.  A second explosion filled the air from the far side of camp, and Ryan pounded his fist on the table.  The Black Hawks swooped in, hovering low to the ground as the Alpha SEAL team and kidnapped woman ran from the insurgent camp.

“Get them out of here!” Hunter shouted.  “My team will cover you!”

A jumble of images filled the screen as the men climbed aboard the helicopter.

Mike jumped in first, bodily carrying the woman, who he put down at his side.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you saved me!” Alyssa wailed.  “I never thought I’d get out of there!”

“Ma’am, calm down,” Brent said.

“I’m scared!” she cried out.  “What if they come after us?  Don’t let them get me again!”

Christopher and Evan jumped on, dragging Patrick along with them.  His body slumped to the ground as they pushed him further in.  Matthew ducked on last as Hunter’s team fired from behind them.

“Shit, put that on his wound!” Mike’s voice called out.  The images began to flicker as the Black Hawk lifted into the air, but Ryan could see blood gushing from Patrick’s side as Mike hovered over him.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Mike spat out. “Fuck!”

Ryan’s gaze swept back to the video footage from other SEAL team, still making their way out of the camp.  A second Black Hawk landed for Delta team, and Hunter and his men were racing for it, shooting behind them as they ran.

“Delta’s all on board,” Hunter said.  “Move out.”

Ryan couldn’t see anything as the Black Hawk’s took off into the night.  His gut churned.  They’d rescued the woman but had a man down.  Condition of both uncertain.

Fucking hell.

***

The sound of the doorbell ringing jarred her from a deep sleep, and Sarah blearily reached for her phone.  4:30 a.m.  What the hell?  She stood up, throwing a long, loose cardigan over her camisole and boy shorts as someone lightly knocked.  Whoever it was probably had the wrong damn house.  She doubted her brother usually had visitors at this God-awful hour.  If someone from base needed him, no doubt they’d call, not just show up at the front door.

Hell.

Running a hand through her tangled hair, she padded to the door barefoot, peering out the peep hole.

She did a double-take as she saw Ryan standing on Patrick’s front porch, dressed in the fatigues the guys sometimes wore on base, his jaw was set in a hard line.  His gaze swept the porch, assessing, and even in the dim porch light, she could tell he hadn’t slept.

What the hell?

Fumbling with the lock, she pulled open the door.  Ryan looked shocked to see her, his eyes sweeping over her camisole and skimpy boy shorts.  She had half a mind to tug the cardigan tighter around herself, but why give him the satisfaction?  It didn’t matter what he thought.  She could wear whatever she wanted.  It’s not like he could complain she was out in public this time.

Stormy gray eyes met hers.  “Sarah.”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

His jaw ticked.  “Is Rebecca here?”

“Rebecca?  No, she’s at the hos—on my God.  Did something happen to Patrick?  Is that why you’re here?  Wait, doesn’t the military send special police or something?  Holy—”

“Sarah,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.  “Calm down.”

“But Patrick—” tears smarted her eyes, and she scrubbed at them with the back of her hand, unwilling to let him see her cry.

“I’m coming inside.”

She stepped aside, glaring at him.  It was his fault if something had happened to Patrick.  He was the one in charge.  The CO.  They deployed on his orders—and now something had happened to her brother.

He stood in front of her acting as calm, cool, and collected as if they were discussing the weather or something.  As if her entire life didn’t hinge on whatever he was about to say.

“Patrick was injured.  They were conducting an op, and he suffered shrapnel wounds.  Serious ones.  Unfortunately, I can’t give you more details yet.”

“Oh my God!” Her hands flew to her face as her chest seized.  She was frozen—unable to get any air in our out.  She never knew what it meant to be paralyzed with fear, but at that moment she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything.

“Breathe, Sarah,” he commanded, taking a step closer.  His large frame towered over hers, crowding her in the front hall.  She felt small and helpless and fragile beside him, as if Ryan somehow held the answers, the key to making sense of the chaos churning through her.  She was standing there barefoot, practically in her underwear, and he looked ready for battle in combat boots and fatigues.  Like he could fight anything, do anything to make it right.

“We’re getting him out. He’s being airlifted to Landstuhl for further medical treatment.”

“Landstuhl? Where the hell is that?”

“Germany.  And I need to speak with Rebecca.”

“Well she’s not here,” Sarah snapped, backing away from him.  “And excuse me for worrying about my own damn brother—whose son is asleep down the hall right now.  He already lost his mom years ago.  Don’t you think I have a right to be worried?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Rebecca’s at the hospital.  Alison went into pre-term labor earlier, and naturally, Evan wasn’t around.”

“Right, she called me,” he said, clenching his jaw.  “Alison wanted to get a hold of Evan.  There’s a lot going on.  Things I can’t even talk about because they’re so highly classified.  The men moved forward with the op, and I’m not sure that Evan’s even aware of her condition.  And as for the news on Patrick’s injuries, I need to speak to Rebecca in person.”

“Like I said, she’s not here,” Sarah said, wrapping her arms around herself.  “And seriously, you could act the least bit concerned about the welfare of everyone involved.  You’re telling me this like you’re giving me the damn weather report or something!”

To her utter mortification, tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Sarah—”

“Go.  Just go!”

Ignoring her, Ryan quietly shut the door and stepped closer. “Please don’t cry,” he said, his voice gruff.

“What do you care?” she whimpered.  “You just—you came…”

His face was unreadable, but suddenly he crossed over to her and collected her in his arms, pulling her into his muscular embrace.  She shook and trembled as she collapsed against his chest, feeling his solid arms wrap around her.  Her tears soaked his uniform, but his warmth and scent surrounded her, and he tightened his embrace as she shook in his arms.

She felt next-to-naked in her cami and underwear, covered only by her wispy sweater, as she nestled against his fatigues.  But he felt big and strong, and for a brief second, she felt safe and protected.  Like everything would be okay. 

“Shhh,” he murmured, running a large hand over her hair as her head rested beneath his chin.  “Shhh.  Don’t cry.”

His fingers threaded through her hair, and he was holding her to him.  Protecting her.  Keeping her standing while she trembled.

“I’m scared,” she cried, clutching onto him.  “I just don’t understand how this could happen.  Patrick said they were all well-trained.  He said it would be okay!”

“Sweetheart, please don’t cry.”

She took a shuddering breath and pulled away, looking up at him with teary eyes.  “You should go find Rebecca.”

“I can’t leave you here like this—”

“I’m fine.  I’ll be fine,” she said, wiping her tears away.

“Sarah,” he said, hesitating.  His eyes swept over the room, taking in her makeshift bed on the sofa.  She’d tossed her clothes onto the armchair earlier, so her bra and panties were on display, too.  Lovely.

“Look, you already said you came here looking for Rebecca.  She deserves to hear it from you in person.  Don’t worry about me.”

“I am worried about you,” he said in a low voice.

“Well, you don’t need to be,” she insisted, fighting back more tears.  “Either you go find her or I’m calling her right now.  And she shouldn’t hear about this over the phone.”

“All right,” he said in a low voice.  “I’ll tell her. Go back to bed.  I’ll let you know when I find out more information.”

“What? No.”

“No?”

“How do you expect me to sleep after hearing about something like this?” Her tears began to fall again, and he suddenly bent down and lifted her into his arms.

She gasped as he held her to his broad chest, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself as strong arms held her close.

“Jesus, woman,” he grumbled, carrying her toward the sofa.  “Don’t you ever wear actual clothes?”

“It’s the middle of the night,” she said in disbelief.  “What are you doing?”

“Putting you back to bed,” he said, placing her down amongst the pillows she’d piled on the sofa and tucking a blanket around her.  His hands brushed against her ribcage as he tucked her in, and she resisted the urge to shudder as she looked up at him in confusion.  “I’m not leaving you standing there crying in the hallway.  And so help me God, Sweetheart, the next time I carry you to bed, it’ll be mine.”

She gasped as he turned to go, his large frame walking to the front door in a few long strides.

“What?” she whispered.

“Call me if you need anything. I’ll find Rebecca and fill her in.”

“I don’t have your phone number.”

“I’ll text it to you.”

“You don’t have mine—”

He leveled her with a gaze.  “I have it.”  Before she could think of a response or even begin the long list of questions she had for him, he turned and shut the door behind him.

***

Ryan cursed as he climbed into his SUV, pulling his phone from his pocket.  He thumbed through his contact list and texted Sarah so she’d have his number.  Jesus Christ.  What the hell had gotten into him?  The next time he took her to bed, it would be his?  He needed to get his damn head on straight.

He backed down the driveway, grumbling to himself.  His eyes swept the road, and sure enough, there was Sarah’s mini cruiser parked down the street.

As if he didn’t have enough on his mind with the rescue op gone FUBAR and Patrick injured, seeing Sarah standing there crying in the hallway had nearly slayed him.  He wanted to hold her to him, assure her that everything would be okay.  Breathe in her sweet scent and kiss away her tears.  But he needed to tell Patrick’s girlfriend he’d been injured.  Needed to return to base and get updates on the hostage they’d rescued from the insurgent’s camp.  He had an entire team of men waiting for word on what happened next.  He had people at the Pentagon expecting updates and answers.

He’d be tied up for hours handling the next steps of this mission.

So why the hell did his gut drop at the look of fear in Sarah’s eyes?

He pounded his fist on the steering wheel as he maneuvered through the streets of VA Beach.  This was why he didn’t get involved with a woman.  Not that he and Sarah were involved, but holy hell.  He needed his mind in the game.  Needed to focus on his men.  Now his thoughts were of laying her down on the sofa and tucking the blanket around her gorgeous body.

And good God.  That skimpy little outfit she’d been sleeping in barely counted as pajamas.  He’d had half a mind to carry her off with him right then—go fucking AWOL.  If it hadn’t been those kids sleeping in bed down the hall and the rest of his men counting on him, he damn well might have done just that.  Ice was injured.  Sarah was crying.  Forget his damn rule that he wouldn’t get involved with the sister of one of his men.

He pulled his black SUV into the lot at the hospital, neatly maneuvering into a parking spot, and jogged toward the building.  After taking the elevator up to the fourth floor, he demanded to know where the maternity ward was.

“Oh good, you made it!” the nurse behind the front desk exclaimed as her eyes ran over his uniform.  “She’s been having contractions all afternoon.”

“I’m not the father.  He’s a man on my SEAL team.  But I need to find Alison and her friend.”

“Oh my God.  Is everything okay?”

“I’m actually looking for the woman Alison is with—Rebecca.”

“Right.  Well, I can’t let you back to Alison’s room then without checking with her first, but I’ll go see if Rebecca’s still here.”

Ryan nodded, glancing around the waiting area.  The other people were probably waiting on happy news—it was the goddamn maternity ward after all.  Births, babies—Jesus Christ.  He never expected to be hanging around here.  And he needed to get back to Little Creek.

“I’m sorry, you just missed her,” the nurse said apologetically as she walked back.  “And Alison’s asleep, but I can let her know that you stopped by.”

“Damn it,” he muttered.  “Apologies, ma’am,” he added.

“Would you like to sit here and wait?”

“No thank you,” he said, turning and walking back out.

If Rebecca was on her way home, that meant Sarah would tell her about Patrick’s injuries.  He clenched his fists as he rode the elevator back down to the lobby.  He should’ve just stayed there after all.  Held Sarah while she cried.  Stayed on base and focused on the mission.

Hell.

Could anything else go wrong?