Ron Marshall wasn’t an emotional guy, but burying his 21-year-old sister was enough to make his eyes water and his chest tighten painfully. Such a senseless death, with no one to really blame; Britt had fallen asleep at the wheel and driven off a cliff. She’d died instantly. No drugs or alcohol, no evidence she’d been texting, just a tired single mom who worked two jobs and went to school part-time. She’d been so exhausted she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes open long enough to get home. Luckily, her 18-month-old daughter, Samantha, hadn’t been in the car with her.

He cut his eyes over to where his friend Erin Riser was bouncing Sam on her knee. They’d served in Afghanistan together before Erin left active duty to join the Marine Corps Reserves. She was married and had two kids of her own, but she hadn’t hesitated to get on a plane to be here for him. The rest of their old unit was here too: Louie Faulk, who worked for the NSA now; Mark Garrison, who was talking about getting out of the military; and Eric Lopez, who’d lost his wife last year and was no stranger to this kind of heartache. They were a somber group who gathered after the funeral to get something to eat.

“I really want to thank you guys for coming,” Ron said, taking a pull from the beer he’d ordered.

“Of course we came,” Erin said softly, shaking her head. “Did you think we wouldn’t?”

“You have your own families, and we’re spread all over the country…” His protests sounded hollow even to his own ears. They were his family too, much more so than his blood relatives, who hadn’t even bothered to show up today.

“We’re still brothers,” Mark said. “You know that.”

“Yeah.”

“So what’re you gonna do about Sam?” Eric asked. He was a single dad, raising his year-old son, Miguel, after his wife died of complications from childbirth.

“I don’t know,” Ron admitted. “Now that I’m part of Force Recon, I’m not sure how I can raise her.” Being part of a unit that was “special operations capable,” he was often called away with no notice. As a single man, he didn’t know how he would take care of a little girl. His combat pay was excellent, but not enough to afford a full-time nanny, so he had a lot to think about.

“She left you custody?” Louie asked, his dark eyes full of sympathy.

“She didn’t have anyone else,” Ron said. “My parents wouldn’t know what to do with a toddler, even if they wanted her—which they don’t—and Sam’s father signed away his rights the day she was born. There’s no one but me…”

“I’m happy to do anything I can to help,” Erin said, her blue eyes fixed on his. “If you get called away, it’s not that far for me to get to San Diego from Vegas and—”

“Erin, you know I love you for offering, but you can’t drop everything to help me every time we get called.”

“Not every time, but I can help.”

“Sounds like you need a nanny,” Louie said.

Ron shrugged. “I have no idea how much a nanny costs, but I imagine having one on call to jump in the minute I have to go will cost me a pretty penny.”

“I can afford—” Erin began, but Ron cut her off.

“Erin, come on. You know I won’t take money from you.”

“It was Shay’s money,” she protested. “He would want you to have some of it.”

“No way.” Ron shook his head. Shay Gentry had been their unit commander in Afghanistan and had been killed on their last mission together. His life insurance had gone to Erin, whom he’d been in love with. Though she and her professional hockey player husband did quite well financially, he wasn’t comfortable taking money from her.

Erin sighed.

“Then what are you going to do?” Eric asked. “Kids are a lot of work and she’s still a baby.”

“I know.” Ron looked over at his niece, wondering just how much his life was about to change.

“At least let me help short-term,” Erin suggested. “I can come to San Diego and help you get settled. It’s going to be a big change with a toddler.”

Ron nodded. “I want to say no, but I can’t. I really can’t do this on my own, at least not in the beginning, so yeah, I’d appreciate the help. Thank you.”

“It’s going to be all right,” Erin said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “You’ll figure it out and we’ll all be here to have your back.”

“Not me,” Louie joked. “Imma find ways to be out of the country—I don’t do babies and diapers and shit.”

“Thanks,” Ron responded dryly.

“You need a wife,” Mark said with a grimace.

Ron made a face. “With what I do for a living? I rarely get out to meet women, and when I do, they hear I’m Special Forces and they’re gone.”

“That’s not my experience,” Louie murmured.

“You’re not Special Forces,” Eric pointed out.

“I’m basically a freakin’ spy,” Louie protested. “Women are all over that shit, but after the last one…” His voice trailed off. His last girlfriend had also been part of their unit, but she’d betrayed them to a group of mercenaries, resulting in Shay’s death and the severe burns that covered 40 percent of Erin’s body. Olivia was in prison now, and Louie hadn’t dated since.

“You guys are a mess,” Erin said. “Look at me—I’m disfigured and still found an amazing guy. You could find someone special too.”

“Not enough time,” Louie grunted.

“Not with my schedule,” Mark added.

“Not in the mood,” Eric made a face.

“Not in the cards,” Ron said firmly. “Especially not now.”

“The right woman will change your mind,” Erin snickered. “I’m a big believer in love.”

“You stay in your little fairy tale,” Ron sighed. “I’ll be here trying to figure out how to afford a nanny.”