“It’s tomorrow.” Grace props up her head, elbow resting on the bed, and her smile meets her eyes. She has a killer smile. It gets me every time.

I copy her move to better face her. “It is.”

“And you stayed.”

“Is that okay?”

She stayed on my boat the other night, but that felt different. Last night was intense, though.

She nods. “I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“You didn’t on the boat either.”

“I guess I feel safe with you.” She relaxes back down, her head on the pillow, her eyes on the ceiling. She combs her fingers through her hair, and I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t.

“Have you found anyone you can talk to about the nightmares, about what happened to you?” When this ends, she’ll need to find a way to feel safe again.

“I’ll see someone eventually.”

I sit up in bed, leaning my back against the headboard, and clasp my hands over the sheet on my lap. “I know Bella wanted you to stay somewhere else before the big reveal, but I was thinking that maybe a hotel isn’t the best idea.” Given what happened to her in Greece… “My boat is a bit tight and you aren’t a fan of the water. Otherwise, I’d offer.”

She takes a breath. “I’ve been in a hotel since Athens. I’m not going to lie—I didn’t sleep well. But I can’t let what happened to me there give me yet another phobia, right? I’ve been obsessing about the water all my life, and somehow you managed to help me with that”—she snaps her fingers—“like that. So maybe I can put on my big girl panties and move forward.”

“The hotel is a little different.”

I don’t know why she feels as if she has to ignore her feelings. This is why I really want her talking to a counselor or something. I’ve seen firsthand what PTSD can do to people. I don’t want to lose her.

I almost drop my head forward and squeeze my eyes shut at the thought that just passed.

I will lose her. Jesus.

“I’ll figure something out when the time comes. Just have Bella give me a day in advance before she kicks me out.” She sighs and sits up, and her legs drop to the floor. She clearly doesn’t want to talk about this right now. “Are you guys working on any other jobs or just my place? I never asked.”

She faces me. She’s only in a thong, a hot pink, frilly thong. I want to go to her, sink to my knees, and tug the strap of material down her legs with my teeth.

“Just yours since I’m the only labor she has. But now that we have an investment, we can hire a few people.”

“That’s great.” She smiles. “So, um, what are you doing today?”

I want to say something stupid, like “you,” but I refrain. I really would love to stay in her bed, to have her legs wrapped around me, to forget about our problems, but I also need to put a little space between us, to get my head on straight.

“I’m gonna try and see Lily.”

I woke up in the middle of the night and checked the airport arrivals at JFK to make sure her plane got in as scheduled last night. I had memorized the flight information when Cindy flashed me the airline tickets on her phone last weekend. As long as they didn’t miss their flight, they should be back in town. And I refuse to let Cindy keep me from her any longer.

“Oh. That’s good. I hope it goes well.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” I get out of the bed, and her eyes dip south of my navel. Beneath her heated stare, I grow hard almost immediately.

“You’re not dressed.” Her eyes slowly drag up my chest and back to mine. They’re a lighter blue today, maybe even grayer.

There’s a little black beneath her eyes, and it only makes her sexier—the morning-after-sex look. I want to have morning sex now.

I glance around the bedroom for my boxers, but I don’t even remember where they got tossed last night. I took her right on the bathroom counter, almost forgetting to sheath myself first. Remembering her taste, and the way she bucked and moved as I thrust in and out of her on the marble slab last night—fuck me, I need her now.

“You want to—” She comes around the bed to stand in front of me.

I palm her breast. She’s the perfect size, fitting into my hand. This elicits a soft moan from her, and she shifts her hips forward a little as if she’s desperate for my touch.

Her smooth center is tan. I wonder if she sunbathes in the nude because she doesn’t look like she’s got a spray tan. As my hand moves over her stomach and down, the doorbell rings.

“Expecting company?” I step back and scratch the side of my head, realizing I might need to calm my dick down. Not going to be easy. Her body—those lips…I need her.

“I don’t even know what time it is,” she says.

The bell rings again. She looks at the clock by her bed. It’s a quarter past nine. I’ve missed my normal morning workout routine again, which is unlike me. Ever since Grace and I started doing whatever it is we’re doing, I’ve been off. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, but it’s thrown me a little.

“Want me to get it?” I cock my head and watch her firm ass in that little thong as she starts for her bathroom.

“Like that? You’ll either scare off whoever it is, or they’ll throw themselves at you. It depends on who’s at the door.” She laughs as she slides on a red silk robe.

“And what might happen with you wearing that when answering the door?” I move toward the bathroom to see if my clothes are in there.

“Just wait in here. I’ll check the peephole to see who it is.”

I find my clothes by the shower and get dressed. I’ll need to go back to the boat and change before I show up at Cindy’s door. I’m bound to come face to face with her fiancé today. I knew it would happen at some point, but I’m in no mood to talk to him. I had Luke run a thorough background check on her fiancé since that’s part of what his company does, because I needed to make sure he wasn’t some creepy pedophile. He came up clean. If he had been a psychopath, no one would have ever found his body.

Jesus, there’s the killer in me again.

My body shakes a little. The very thought that some other guy is stepping in for me right now has me almost ill. I’ve done my best not to think about it since I got out of the SEALs because I’ll probably lose my fucking mind if I do.

When I come out into the bedroom, I hear a male’s voice. Two maybe.

I go for the doorknob and open it without thinking first. Instinct kicks in, and the need to protect Grace seizes hold of me.

“Is this him?” There’s a guy in jeans and a white untucked dress shirt behind the couch, and he points at me as I stand in the doorframe, not sure what to think.

I assess the scene, noting another man in the living room. He’s standing beside Grace by the bay window.

She closes the record player top and faces me, then she tightens the sash on her robe and folds her arms. “This is Cade,” she says while pointing at the guy by the couch, the one who looks as though he’s ready to throw down with me. “And my other brother, Corbin.” She tilts her head to the guy on her right.

“And this is the handyman? The one you’re screwing?” Cade’s brows pinch together. He comes around from behind the couch, starting for me.

“He’s not just a handyman.” The way she says the word handyman, it’s as if she’s embarrassed by me, by who I am. And I can’t take my eyes off her to see how she’ll react next, even though Cade is stalking my way. Her arms hang loose now at her sides. “Why are you here? Did Evan call you? Is that sick psycho listening through the walls to hear what I’m doing?”

As she takes a step in Cade’s direction, Corbin stops her by touching her bicep.

“You need to go. You don’t belong here.” Cade’s in front of me now, his eyes drilling into me, trying to break me. Good fucking luck with that.

I don’t respond to him as I look back at Grace. She looks conflicted, as if maybe she’s going to tell me to leave. My shoulders tense, and my spine straightens.

“There’s something we came to tell you. You weren’t answering your phone, and we needed to talk to you.” Corbin releases his hold on Grace, and she faces him. His voice isn’t as edgy, and there’s compassion in his eyes. He’s a good guy. Thank God one of them is.

“What’s going on?” she asks Corbin.

Corbin looks over at his brother, and Cade shakes his head.

“He should go, then we’ll talk,” Cade says.

“Is this about work?” she asks, her eyes darting to her older brother’s.

“No,” Cade answers.

“Then why does he need to leave?” she asks.

“It’s about Greece.” Corbin’s voice is low, and I can tell his words have Grace’s knees practically buckling as her face blanches.

I brush past Cade, wanting to be at her side to make sure she doesn’t fall. I’m sure Corbin will help, but I can’t be a bystander. It’s not in my nature.

“He knows about Athens. Say whatever it is,” she says in an almost shaky voice.

“You told him?” There’s obvious surprise in Cade’s voice, but I don’t bother looking at him. I need to focus on Grace.

“Just tell me what’s going on.” Her palms press to her core, and I touch her arm, offering her support. She looks at me as she takes a few shallow breaths.

“They think they found the guy,” Corbin says.

Grace starts to sink down, but I pull her against me, keeping her upright.

“They want you to identify him. They’re sending someone here with images for you to look at. For me to look at as well.”

Wow—I guess things really do work differently for the rich.

“So I won’t have to face him?” Her hand goes to her chest, her fingertips burying into her collarbone as her pupils dilate.

“Not if you can ID him based on the pictures,” Cade says from behind me.

“You should sit.” I motion to the armchair near the couch, a silent request for Corbin to lift the dust blanket so she can relax.

He gets the message and is quick to act. I guide Grace to the chair, and she clutches the sides of it as if we’re on a plane and suffering from major turbulence.

“This is a good thing. We can put this behind us,” Cade says.

But Grace doesn’t speak. I can see the fear, the stress—it’s consuming her, and she’s probably reliving the night at the hotel again. I want to comfort her, but I’m only the fucking handyman.

“You should go now,” Cade says, and I lift my gaze to meet his. He tucks his hands in his pockets and arches his shoulders back. “We’ve got this.”

“When do I need to ID him?” she asks, ignoring her brother.

“Tuesday,” Corbin answers. “We’ll be going together. They want to get the ID done as soon as possible so they can keep him locked up until the trial.”

Grace starts taking quick breaths. She’s in full panic mode. I touch her back and guide her forward a little.

“Put your hands on your knees. Try to slow your breathing.” I look at Corbin. “Get her a bag or something to breathe into. She’s having a panic attack.”

Corbin remains staring at Grace, and I have to assume some sort of guilt is plaguing him. Even though he saved her, I wonder if he feels as though he should have ended this all back in Athens by not letting the asshole get away. I know that’s how I’d feel.

“Now!” Cade barks.

Corbin shakes his head out of the daze and heads to the kitchen while I rub her back. I lean forward and press my mouth to her ear.

“You’re going to be okay,” I whisper, trying to keep her from going off the cliff.

“I’m fine,” she says after a few minutes.

Corbin stands in front of her with a bag, but his eyes are on me. Curious, maybe? He’s not staring me down like Cade, but he’s also unsure of me; that much is obvious. His head is angled, and his eyes are narrowed on me as he remains standing before Grace.

I lift my hands from Grace’s shoulders and step back from the chair. Cade comes to Corbin’s side as Grace stands.

“You guys can go now,” she says.

Cade’s jaw clenches. “We should talk more about this.”

“I need space.” She moves around her brothers to the back of the chair where I’m standing. “Go see Lily. I’ll be okay.”

“You shouldn’t be alone.” I can’t begin to imagine what she must be feeling right now, and the last thing she needs is to be alone with her fears.

“I’ll stay.” Corbin looks at me and nods.

“Please. We’ll catch up later.” She laces her fingers with mine, and the gesture, in front of her brothers, throws me a little. Is she really okay with them knowing what’s going on between us?

“He’s married.”

I look at Cade. Did the son of a bitch look into me? How did he even know about us—did she tell him we were sleeping together? I highly doubt that.

Grace drops my hand and spins to face her brother. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She approaches him and jabs her finger at his chest. “Stay out of my life.”

“How? You clearly don’t know what the hell you’re doing.” Cade remains looking at me, ignoring her.

“Get out,” she rasps and steps back. “And if you’re in agreement with him, you too!” She looks at Corbin, but he holds his hands up in surrender.

“You know I’ve always got your back,” Corbin says.

She releases a breath. “Cade, I mean it. Go. Now.”

“If you hurt my sister, I’ll kill you myself. You got that?” Cade’s hands form into fists at his sides, and the vein in his throat throbs.

“Like you aren’t trying to hurt me?” Grace looks Cade square in the eyes, and some unspoken message passes between them.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Cade grumbles and starts for the hall that leads to the front door. “Keep an eye on her, Corbin.”

The tension drops once he’s gone, and her shoulders relax. Corbin rests a hand on her shoulder and squeezes.

She shoots me an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry about him.”

“It’s fine.” I should go, though. She should be with Corbin right now, and I really need to see Lily. But… “I can stay if you want.”

“No.” Her response is immediate. “Please. See Lily.”

“I’ll be here. Don’t worry,” Corbin says then comes toward me and extends his hand.

I look at the potential peace offering and clasp palms with him.

“Nice to meet you,” he says.

I only nod, because this entire situation is pretty damn awkward. “I’ll call you later.”

I grab my shoes from her room, which is even odder—going in her bedroom with her brother here. I shoot her one last look before I leave. A tightness stretches across my chest. Guilt. But I’m not sure if it’s because I’m leaving or if it’s because I’m worried that I’ll do exactly what Cade’s afraid of—hurt her. And that’s the last thing I want.

But I guess we’ll figure that out tomorrow—well, whenever our last tomorrow is.

* * *

Our boots hit the ground right after we’d parachuted from a plane.

There were only five of us.

We entered the stronghold of a terrorist cell in Pakistan. Based on our thermal cameras, we had counted over twenty people inside the compound.

I was calm, though, in control as we had approached enemy territory.

And even after I took down six targets and got a bullet in my quad, I stayed resolute. Nothing rattled me. Mission first, emotions second. Hell, maybe even a distant tenth.

But as I approach Cindy’s door right now, hoping not to have it slammed in my face again, I’m on edge. Nervous. Scared even. I have no idea how to handle fear. It’s foreign to me, and it’s like a slow fire working through my veins, nearly incinerating my organs.

There’s a tremble to my hand as I raise it.

I retract it for a moment, staring at my fist as if it doesn’t belong to me.

I press both palms to the door and lower my head for a moment, trying to pull my shit together.

I go back to the ship—to the Navy—in my head. My heartbeat starts to slow to normal as I remember who I once was, who I still need to be.

I press the buzzer and wait.

Nothing.

I try again and add a few knocks.

Nothing.

Either she’s not opening the door, or they’re not home—but why wouldn’t they be after being out of town for a week? Home sweet home, right?

I know they’re not at church because Cindy divorced God long before she attempted to divorce me.

After a few minutes, I exit the high-rise as I contemplate my next moves, but I stop dead in my tracks at the sight across the street.

Lily’s at the playground there. Her blond pigtails swish as she sails up on a swing then bends her legs and moves back, smiling.

I feel both relief and pain now. I almost don’t want to move, to lose this moment of seeing her happy. I wonder how much she actually understands about what’s happening between her mom and me.

I cross the street, ignoring the no walking sign, and go around to the gated entrance. Only a few kids are on the playground, but Cindy and her fiancé are on a bench off to the side, talking. I only know what the guy looks like based on the background search.

Lily’s swinging by herself, and she’s pretty good at it.

My breath hitches when Lily looks my way and her eyes grow wide. “Daddy!”

She jumps off the swing from way too high up, giving me a near heart attack, but she nails the landing. I start toward her as she runs to me, and I lift her into my arms and swing her around in a circle as she squeals with delight.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl,” I say into her ear.

“Noah!” Cindy’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard, and the hair on my arms stand.

“I’ve missed you so much. Mommy said you had to go back to sea and were gone.”

What the hell! “No, I’m here. I’m never leaving you, I promise.”

I squat to release her, but she keeps her arms wrapped around my neck, hugging me. She smells like sugar and honey.

I’m not much of a cook, but when I was home, I did my best to bake with her. She loves baking. Most of the time our cakes had a slow death in the oven, and our cookies were crispy as if in a fire—but she would always say, “You did your best, Daddy, and that’s all that counts.”

Am I still doing my best?

“How was your trip to Colorado?” I ask, hating that she went across the country without me.

“It was okay. I wish you could have come,” Lily says.

“Me too—”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Cindy says from over my shoulder, cutting me off.

I stand back up, but Lily flings her body around my right leg and hangs on as if she might lose me again. Jesus. How did I let Cindy keep me away from her like this?

“He’s here, Mommy! You were wrong!” She lets go and rings her fingers together.

“Lily, go play. I need to talk to your dad.” Cindy crosses her arms.

I work hard to keep a wrap on my anger since Lily’s here. Cindy’s fiancé comes up next to her and holds his arms out for Lily, and I instinctively reach for Lily’s hand.

Hell no.

The guy looks like an ass. I might be biased, but still…

He squints his green eyes and assesses me beneath his dark-rimmed glasses before folding his arms as if he’s trying to make his biceps—or lack of—pop and intimidate me.

It takes all my strength to say, “Go play, Lily. I’ll be over in a minute.” And I only do it because I don’t want her listening to any vile filth Cindy might say.

Lily looks at me, and I can see her hesitance. She’s afraid she might lose me again. How can I reassure her when her mother is doing her best to make that happen?

I let out a deep breath and try to ground myself, so I can remain composed. “It’s okay. I’ll push you way up high in that swing in just a minute.”

“Promise?” She pouts a little.

I cross my fingers over my heart. “Promise.” I wait for her to leave, and I do my best not to deck the bastard who’s screwing Cindy and trying to steal my daughter.

To be honest, I’m over the affair, but this insanity about taking Lily from me—fuck that.

Once Lily is out of earshot, Cindy comes closer to me. Her fiancé, surprisingly, leaves us alone and goes off toward Lily.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she hisses.

I cock my head. “And you were supposed to call me as soon as you got back into town.”

“I don’t owe you updates,” she says.

“And you can’t keep me from Lily. I haven’t seen a court warrant saying to stay away.”

“I can get one!”

“How? What have I ever done that would justify keeping me away from her?” I ask in a low voice.

“I’m her mother. I get the final say.”

“And who the hell am I?” I snap out.

She looks at the ground as her eyes close.

“There’s no way you’ll win this fight.” I look over at Lily. She’s playing with a girl who looks to be her age. They’re laughing, and my heart swells.

“I don’t want to do this here, not with Lily so close by,” she says in almost a groan as her eyes flash open.

“Right now I’m going to spend some time with my daughter.” I turn, prepared to head in Lily’s direction, but Cindy’s hand on my arm stops me.

“We were just leaving.”

“Then you can leave. Lily will stay,” I bite back.

She sighs. “Ten minutes, and I don’t want to see you again until we have our lawyers present. I mean it.”

I ignore her, knowing next Sunday I’ll be back.

I leave the playground twenty minutes later, pissed about the short time, but I didn’t want to fight in front of Lily. And then I spend the rest of the day drifting around the city like a man lost at sea.

As the sun drops from the sky and the moon makes its debut, I find myself lying on the couch on the deck of my boat, looking at a selfie I took of Lily and me earlier. She has her tongue playfully sticking out with bunny ears over my head.

A message pops up from Grace.

Did you get to see Lily today?

I focus on her question, surprised she’s thinking about me after what happened to her today.

I sit upright and type a response.

Yes. At the park.

I send it and wait, my body growing strangely calm.

That’s good. I hope you’re doing okay. Sorry again about earlier.

Why is she apologizing? For her brother or for her panic attack? I really hope she sees someone for that.

Are YOU okay?

I delete the line and try again.

Can I come over? I don’t want you to be alone.

I stand and delete the message again. Before I have a chance to write something else, Grace has sent me another text.

I’m not going into work tomorrow or Tuesday. Could you hold off on the remodel?

I squint at the message as if I didn’t read it right. Shit, she must be worse than I thought. I should call her—or go to her.

I’m coming over.

I send it before I have a chance to hesitate.

No, I’m okay. Tell Bella if we fall behind schedule don’t stress.

She seems a little cold. Distant. But it’s hard to assess someone based on a few texts. But still, she must be struggling with what she learned today, and what if she has another anxiety attack? It’s great news that the police found the asshole who almost—shit, I can’t even finish that thought.

Don’t worry about the remodel right now. I want to come over. Let me be there for you.

The message delivers, and I wait.

And wait.

And as I continue to wait, the minutes ticking by, I realize I’ve never sat around waiting for a woman to call or text me—EVER.

I’ve waited on ops. I’ve had to sit in the desert, in the bushes, in the freezing ass ocean and wait. I know how to wait for missions. I did—I keep forgetting I won’t ever be on an op again.

But this type of waiting is god-awful.

No, scratch that. It’s fucking horrible.

And this can only mean one thing—this thing between us…it’s something more.