Blayze fixed his eyes on the copper casket. Spots of sunlight streamed through the branches of a nearby tree, an array of fluttering leaves creating a kaleidoscope effect over the surface. A solid rose-gold bar matched the clasps that sealed her final resting place. Mom had picked it out herself, paid for everything in advance. Which he guessed is how things went when the funeral director lived right next door. Even if she’d been a young fifty-eight years old.

Of all the ways to lose someone… Blayze shook his head from the irony of it all. You live to protect your family and country and then this—something he couldn’t have prevented no matter how many years he’d served as a Navy SEAL.

Stage four.

Why couldn’t they have caught it sooner? Given her a chance to fight. Mom was strong. So incredibly strong…

The sound of Sutton Smith’s voice in Blayze’s head reminded him—to a sobering degree—that he wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone before his or her time. At least his mother had lived a fairly full life. Married, had kids. Two sons and one daughter who was sure to have a harder time getting over Mom’s death than he and Chanze. The two were bonded in a way Blayze had never known. But Sutton… that man had lost a son in battle, the ultimate sacrifice, and still he stayed strong.

Memories of Blayze’s Navy SEAL days flooded his mind. Not only had Sutton lost a son that ill-fated day, but Blayze had lost a military brother—something he still hadn’t been able to reconcile.

“Mr. Brockton?”

Blayze sniffed and straightened up. The female voice wasn’t familiar to him, a fact made more evident by the Spanish accent coating his name. He tore his gaze off the upturned dirt at the casket’s base and drifted it up to a slender woman in heels and a navy-blue dress suit.

“My name is Sophia Vasco. I had the great privilege of hosting a charity gala in San Bernardino with your mother last year.”

Blayze gave her a polite nod, but already his defenses were up. He’d met plenty of the women his mother rubbed shoulders with. While Linda Brockton was known for her balanced feminist platform, others had proven to be less… gracious where males were concerned.

Sophia tilted her head, squinting against the sun as she continued. “Linda was an incredible inspiration to me, and it was a privilege to work with her.” The name Linda meant beautiful; Blayze had known that since he was a boy, but he’d never heard the name sound as lovely as it did in Sophia’s accent.

He met her gaze. Gorgeous deep brown eyes filled with confidence, composure, and sympathy. He gulped. “Thank you.”

“She’ll be missed by many, but none so much as her own children, I’m sure.” A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips, transforming her face in a blink. Cheekbones lifting, teeth glistening as a spot of sun lit her up like an angel. “Your mother spoke so fondly of you. Said she was the proudest SEALs mama there ever was. Hooyah.” The woman surprised him by lifting a small fist in the air. Perhaps she wasn’t as polished as she came off. He cracked a smile.

“That’s nice to hear, Sophia. I appreciate you coming.” He freed his right hand from his pocket and reached out to shake hers. She paused at the gesture, glancing at his hand before shaking it. Silky smooth, but firm all the same.

“You’re welcome.” She turned from him then, taking long, aimless strides over the grass while lifting her chin to the breeze.

Perhaps he’d been off-putting. Blayze had the tendency to be impersonal. But if any day called for allotted grace, this was it.

Dad and Barbara stood comforting his sister, Jazmin, and her two small kids. Blayze’s brother, Chanze, waited along the outskirts nudging grass blades with the toe of his shoe. Moments from now, Blayze would attend a luncheon at the church and visit with his siblings and a few of Mom’s close friends. Then he’d be free to meet up with his more recent band of brothers—the group surrounding Sutton in the shade. Cannon stood silently next to Sutton, observing the other guys. Corbin, who’d wound through the graveyard on a Harley, was sporting a new tattoo. Looked like River and Zane were asking him about it. That, or razzing him over going under the needle yet again. You never could tell with this group.

There wasn’t much Blayze missed about being on active duty, and he had no desire to go back. But one thing he’d always thank God for was the bond he’d made among the members of Team 7. Already he was looking forward to catching up with them.

For now, it was time to say a final goodbye. A few steps took Blayze closer to the casket where he reached out and plucked a coral rose from the arrangement on top. He brought it to his nose, inhaled the sweet scent with his eyes shut tight. A breeze picked up, and he could picture Mom there with him. Dressed in her faded blue jeans, that yellow garden apron cinched around her waist while a smudge of dirt marked her flushed cheek.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for staying when Dad left.

And thank you for teaching me to be strong.

Blayze pressed the rose to his lips before lowering it to the dirt.

“It’s a bitter loss.” Sutton came from behind. “Burying a loved one. I’m sorry.”

Blayze turned in time to accept the man’s embrace and accompanying back pat. Bitter indeed. Blayze thought back on a time when, in a rare moment of vulnerability, Sutton had admitted to seeing days so dark he didn’t want to live. But instead of giving in to it, Doug’s father had assembled his son’s retired SEAL team, the Warrior Project, and hired them out for private protection positions to help those in a deadly pinch. He’d wave the Bat Signal, and the best man for the job would step in line.

The timing had been just right for Blayze, having been honorably discharged and ready for something new when the initial job offer came. The private missions paid well—very well—and came with a whole lot of perks.

Cannon stepped in behind Sutton, tossing an arm around Blayze as well.

“Thank you,” Blayze said to each of the men. “And thanks for saying a few words, Cannon. Was awesome, man.” The former Navy Chaplain turned SEAL always had a way of shedding light on the darkest places. And he’d done that very thing today.

“It was my privilege,” Cannon said with a nod. He shot Sutton a look that made Blayze glance between the two.

“What am I missing?” Blayze asked.

Cannon shook his head. “Nothing. Sutton will wait and talk to you at the club tonight.”

But it looked like Sutton had other plans. The man always did make his own rules. He planted his feet in place, arms folded over his chest. “I talked to you about accepting a private protection job here in California,” he said under his breath.

Cannon shook his head. “Couldn’t have just waited…”

“The woman in question is Ms. Vasco. She introduced herself to you a moment ago.”

A bit of heat stirred low in his belly. “Okay,” Blayze said.

“Her father wants you for the job, but you’ll have to start soon.”

Blayze considered that. Since Mom’s prognosis, he’d been jumping from one item of business to the next. The funeral was the final thing on his list, and the last thing he needed was time on his hands. “How soon?”

Sutton shot Cannon a look before settling his eyes back on Blayze. “Tomorrow.”

Blayze nodded. Sutton never was one to beat around the bush.

“If you want me to help out for a day or two…” Cannon started, but Blayze shook his head.

“No. Thanks though, man.” He turned to Sutton. “It’s about time I get back to work. Tomorrow’s perfect.”

“That’s my man,” Sutton said. “Heart of a warrior.”

Cannon and Blayze nodded before returning the phrase. “Heart of a warrior.”