During the day, Tank worked with Bronte, and he spent his nights with Alyssa, his thoughts not far from Blue, especially now that those bodies had been found and identified. All SEAL Team Charlie members had been executed. It was just a matter of time before he and his team would be back over there, and when they found the people responsible for the deaths, there would be justice. Blue was still MIA. His absence was always felt, like reverse space, his calm presence missed at every training session, pressing against Tank’s conscience. To date, there had been no trace of him except his dog tags had been found near where he had been standing. The blast had destroyed the laces of his boot, and the dog tags nestled inside where special ops placed them during covert missions had been left behind. His whereabouts were still a mystery.

Tank was working on not letting his frustration and impatience get the better of him. For him, the status quo had been blown to smithereens both in his private and professional life. The events had both stimulated him and challenged him. Maybe he’d grown too complacent and what he really needed was a challenge. Working with Bronte hadn’t gotten any better. In fact, she seemed to be even more contrary and had snapped at him a couple times. He kept remembering his ease with Echo, how well they had been together. The more he felt like he was failing with Bronte, the more he thought about Echo. He called Lackland several times to find out about his health. Once he was told Echo was out of the woods, Tank stopped calling. He had to do this cold turkey.

But Echo was his way of getting through those sessions, and the more that Bronte fought him, the worse it got.

He was at his locker, getting changed so he could get home, shower and change to go with Jordan to meet his new doctor. After many tests and still no definitive answers, it was frustrating as hell. Just as he closed and locked the gate, Ruckus walked in. “Hey, we’re pulling out at in an hour. Got a lead on Blue.”

Tank swore softly under his breath. “LT, I need to talk to you. It’s about Jordan.”

“What’s up with him?”

“He’s sick. They don’t know what’s going on yet, but he’s meeting with his new doctor today. I want to go after Blue. It’s killing me to ask this, but I need to be there from my brother.”

Ruckus shifted and went thoughtful, his understanding tempered by his orders. Wheels up was wheels up. “I can delay for about half an hour, but your ass needs to be on that tarmac by then.”

“That’s enough time. Thank you!”

“Thank you? What happened to my Tank…you going soft?” Ruckus smiled.

Tank shook his head as Ruckus left.

He raced to the hospital. Jordan looked up when he walked in, his face showing his surprise. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he said. Then they both turned at the sound of Dan’s voice.

“We wouldn’t miss being here for our broski.”

Jordan took a breath and looked away. “Thank you for coming…I’m pretty scared,” he admitted. “So many tests and no answers. It’s getting old.”

“Yeah, we’re right there with you,” Tank said. “We’ve always been. I might not have shown it, Jordan, but I do support you. I was just trying to keep everything together. Our parents were no help at all, they lived the gang lifestyle, high most of the time. When Dad caused Jelsena’s death, I thought it was up to me to keep us all safe. That’s all I could focus on.”

“You don’t talk about her at all,” Jordan said. “I’ve always wanted to know more. I was pretty young when she died.”

“Me, too,” Dan said. “I do remember she loved to sing and she had the best smile.”

Tank smiled, remembering his sister not as a tragedy, but as she once was. “She was sweet, funny, and loved roses. She’d shove her nose into one any chance she got. She was pretty awesome.” As he talked the pain of her death eased more and more. Sharing her with his brothers was what he had needed. He just hadn’t been aware until now.

Two weeks after he’d slept with Alyssa, he decided to go back to the basics. He projected calm, kept his cool, and they practiced, practiced, and practiced some more. He worked her hard for an hour, but by the end of it, he was beginning to think she was not the dog for him. “Good girl,” he said, trying to project a positive mindset. The navy-blue tug that he’d used after almost all of his sessions with Echo as a special treat was in his back pocket. He went to reach for it, but then stopped. Rewarding her for her behavior today wasn’t procedure. The tug stayed where it was. After he kenneled her, he saw Alyssa at the gate.

She handed him a bottle of water. “Hey, you looked like you were struggling out there.”

The last two weeks with her had been eye-opening. Damn, but she was intelligent and funny. There were times when he couldn’t wait to get to her, to touch her, hold her and make love to her. Yet, right now there was a strained silence between them. He really needed to be alone to think this out. The Navy wasn’t normally accommodating when it came to dog handlers. They expected him to handle the situation and train the dog. This whole situation with Bronte had yanked him up short, and with Blue, Jordan, and Alyssa heavy on his mind, he needed time to assimilate it all. “I don’t think she’s the right dog for me.” He looked off into the distance, opened the bottle, and took a long pull.

She shaded her eyes and looked up at him. She leaned back against his truck and folded her arms. After a moment, she said, “I think you’re selling yourself short.”

He rolled his shoulders. He was done for the day, a heavy training session with his teammates, range time, and hitting the gym all taking its toll. He needed a shower and something to eat. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Alyssa gave him a level gaze. “Tank, you quit on her before you even started working with her.”

He stared at her, then looked away and exhaled heavily. He looked back at the kennels, the dusky quiet perforated by the sound of chickadees. He considered Alyssa’s comment, then let go another exasperated sigh. “That’s not true. I’ve been here every day since she was assigned to me. I’m making a rational decision. Not every dog works with every handler.” He unlocked his truck door and decided that he would withdraw from this discussion before he let the irritation building inside him bubble up. He needed to decompress. “I’m going home to shower and change. I’ll see you later.”

He got in his vehicle and resisted looking in the rearview mirror. Her assessment stung, just as Jordan’s words had stung when he’d been confronted about being sick. It drove it home to him that he had made mistakes with his brothers. Working hard to keep them safe was rooted in his unresolved feelings regarding his little sister’s death. There was a reason he’d tattooed her name on his arm. He never wanted to forget that she had died because of neglect and recklessness. Once again, he realized that he hadn’t exactly been supportive toward them. When he pulled in his driveway, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. Bronte was an exemplary dog. Why was he having such a hard time with her? He was a seasoned handler. It should have been an easy transition. But nothing was easy with the loss of Echo. He felt his partner’s absence as keenly as he felt Blue’s. He was relieved that Echo was recovering, but there was this ache he couldn’t seem to make go away.

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat. He had to stop thinking about Echo. He was no longer able to serve, and he was retired now. Someone would adopt him, and he’d live his life out with someone who loved him. He deserved that.

He clenched his jaw and tightened his hands on the wheel. He wanted to be the one to adopt Echo. You can’t. He needs someone there for him twenty-four/seven and your schedule is too unpredictable.

Out of nowhere his throat closed up with a painful cramp and his vision blurred. He was trying to be rational, but he hated the truth when it came to Echo. He had to consider the needs of his furry friend and not be selfish about it. Yet he couldn’t shake the sense of being incomplete.

Suddenly, the scene played out once again: Echo discovering the insurgent, his shouting, Echo streaking across the compound, then the explosion, blacking out and coming to with Echo’s high-pitched cries filling his ears. Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, waiting for the memory to settle, the fear and helplessness surging back, he attempted to reel in his emotions. Could he have done anything differently? He reached down and released his seat belt as he heard a car come to a stop behind him.

* * *

Alyssa wasn’t about to let him get away with this. She got out of her car and slammed the door. He was halfway up his walk, his strides clipped. Damn him and his obstinance. “Tank!” she said. “Don’t you dare walk away from me.”

“Give it a rest, Doc. I’m done for today.”

“No you’re not,” she said. When she reached him, she grabbed his arm and spun him around. “This is what it’s going to take to get back into shape. You’ve got to work with Bronte! She’s ready. You’re the one holding her back.”

“No, dammit. We don’t mesh and I’m not in the mood to discuss this anymore.”

“Thorny?”

Tank stiffened and turned around.

“Becca?”

Alyssa took in the small, beautiful younger woman dressed to the nines in designer clothes.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was worried. I wanted to talk to you about Jordan.”

“I’m fine. Jordan is doing all right, everything considered…” He trailed off.

“How is Echo?”

“He’s recovering.”

Her eyes welled and the surprise on his face said it all. She clutched his forearm, giving Alyssa an anxious look. “Now isn’t a good time, Tinkerbell.”

Tinkerbell?

He had a relationship with this woman, and everything in her tightened, a bad case of the green-eyed monster stabbing at her.

She gave Alyssa another anxious look and nodded. “Would you call me?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”

He opened his front door and went inside. Before he could shut it in her face, she inserted her boot. He let out a breath and let go of the door. She came into the foyer and shut it behind her. No reason to give his neighbors a show.

“Who was that?”

He didn’t say anything, just gave her that flat, annoying Tank look.

“Are you seeing her, too?” She couldn’t keep the distress out of her voice. Here she was putting her heart on the line by getting involved with him and he was already involved. When he set his hands on his hips and looked as stubborn as all get out, she realized that she wasn’t quite strong enough to deal with a man who slept around. It was true that he hadn’t made any promises to her. She should have gotten it straight. “You’re right. I should go,” she murmured.

She turned, and he grabbed her arm and spun her. “It’s not like that. She’s not my girlfriend. We just hang out in between deployments. She’s a rich little daddy’s girl who used to get me off.”

She huffed out a breath.

“It’s mutual. It’s all about me being a SEAL. She’s a strap hanger, a groupie, Alyssa.”

“I see. You don’t like change and she does it your way.”

He dragged her against him. “You challenge me.” He hit the back of his head against the wall. “Every day, all the time like a freaking drill instructor.”

“Oh, how flattering.”

“It’s not her I think about. It’s not her I want,” he ground out. He closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

Her heart melted at his passionate tone. God, she was showing how insecure she was when she knew Tank wouldn’t do that to her. “You wouldn’t. I’m feeling a little stupid right now. So, I’m sorry I accused you of that.”

“It’s all right. This whole thing is making us both crazy. I’m just not sure about Bronte, Alyssa. It doesn’t feel right. We don’t mesh.”

“That’s not true. She’s trying and you’re not. She’s never going to be Echo, Tank.”

His voice got thick and his eyes went moist and she felt like a hard-assed bitch. Damn, maybe she was being too hard on him.

“You don’t understand. I love Echo, he’s part of my family! I don’t know how to do this again,” he shouted.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. That was so insensitive. Please forgive me. I’m just trying to get you to see that you have to find a way to get past this, for yourself and for your team.”

“I’ve been with Echo for ten years, ever since I came into the program.” He swallowed. Before her eyes, this big man disintegrated. “He saved us; he gave up everything, almost lost his life.”

He buried his face in her neck, his skin damp against her throat, his mouth pressed just under her chin, his hair a silky slide against her jaw. Her resolve broke. The hard part of her that refused to give in, gave in, caved, crashed, tumbled. Serving together had broken her marriage, and she’d been gun-shy for so long. Getting involved with a SEAL, one who wasn’t even in the army where they could at least try to get postings together, it seemed so impossible, but none of that meant anything. The feel of him beneath her hands felt so damn good. Before she knew it, he spun her, his mouth hot against hers, backing her up against the wall, devouring her lips as if he was going to eat her alive.

His mouth even after two weeks was so familiar, the way he kissed her driving home that he was telling the truth. Tank was an honorable man. And he lived his life by that creed. She had always been aware of it, but she had never really thought about it. Now that she had, she realized it was one of the traits in him that she respected most. And she recognized that he measured everything by that.

Feeling as if she had just stumbled onto something very significant, Alyssa wondered how his sense of honor had affected them. As long as she had known him, he had been upright and honest in his dealings with everyone. She doubted if he had ever betrayed anyone—certainly not his brothers. Never his fellow SEALs and certainly not her—

But the choice he thought he’d made on the battlefield dogged him. He’d gone to Echo as he’d been trained to do. Dog and handler were a unit. Even though he was part of a bigger team, Echo was his responsibility, and he had followed through.

But his teammate, Blue, had been lost. All these things must be pressing against him each day. Getting back to working an unfamiliar dog wasn’t like picking up a new gun. Whether Lackland or Tank’s command thought he should just soldier on and exchange one K9 warrior for another, it wasn’t Tank’s perspective. Tank loved Echo more than he could ever love any piece of his gear. Echo was a living, breathing member of their team. He’d saved so many lives that day, including Tank’s.

A funny feeling unfolded in her belly, and Alyssa straightened, the sensation buzzing through her. But what if he felt that he was betraying Echo, who she was now convinced he considered as much a part of his family and an integral part of his team? She was suddenly so aware, she felt as if she had received a deep insight into a complicated man. What if he did feel that, and what if that was why he was struggling with Bronte?

She pushed against his chest, even as he deepened the kiss, but the moment he felt the pressure, he released her. “Making love to me isn’t going to make all this go away,” she said gently.

He stared down into her eyes and something shifted there in those deep brown, so intense depths. Where in the past he would withdraw and gloss over anything to do with what he was feeling. He backed away from her and slipped his hand into his back pocket, one of his fists clenched, and he huffed out an unsteady, heavy breath.

“You are tenacious, and believe it or not, you don’t know everything.”

“Maybe I don’t. Maybe I use that to keep people at a distance so that they don’t really see me for who I am. But this isn’t about me. This is about you, Echo, and Petty Officer Beckett—Blue.”

“Ocean,” Tank said, his voice strangled. He blinked rapidly. “He’s a surfer, you know. Knows how to become one with the ocean. He said his parents, hippie surfer people, named him after their favorite part of Mother Nature. They thought it would make him a strong man when he grew up.”

“There’s still no word about him?”

He walked to the front window and leaned against the casement, passing his hand over his eyes, then rubbing at his rough jaw. “No. Not a thing. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth.”

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, setting her face against his heavily muscled back. “That was a very tough op for you, especially because of Echo.”

“It’s war, Alyssa.”

She squeezed him. “I know that. Combat is organized chaos. Your instincts, all your senses and your training had you focus on Echo. He was your responsibility. I’m sure that talking about your feelings wouldn’t be your first choice, but Tank, deciding to help your K9 partner isn’t in any way the wrong choice.”

“I didn’t really make a choice, Alyssa.” He took a ragged breath, his voice clogged with emotion now. “I reacted to Echo in distress, a threat still not neutralized.”

“Agreed. If you hadn’t, all of you would have most likely died if that rebel had set off the detonator in his hand.

He nodded. “Still doesn’t make it any easier for me to deal with Blue missing. My responsibility was to him, too.”

“I understand. Losing him doesn’t make it any easier. Then your loss of Echo…we’re not talking about equipment here or weapons. Those are inanimate objects. Echo is as loyal and fierce a warrior as you are. You’ve been with him for so long, and the bond with a dog goes so deep, I don’t think we really realize how deep. Your whole routine, everything you did on a daily basis involved him. There is no status quo here anymore, and everything has changed both within your team and within your established unit. It’s more than losing a partner, he’s family. Now you have to deal not only with loss in your everyday working life, but you have to deal with the personal and very real emotion that goes with it. You have to deal with those dog prints on your heart.”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

She experienced such a rush of feeling for him, for Echo, and for Bronte who, from what Alyssa could see, wanted to please him. But that resistance in Tank was confusing her when he needed to bond with her. He was still raw from Echo, from dealing with his feelings at both Blue and Echo’s absences, and Alyssa understood the kind of grit and determination it took to set that aside and do his job.

“Everything you’re feeling is going down that leash to Bronte. She’s sensitive like all dogs. You might not be conscious of it, but your resistance is very clear to her, and that causes a disconnect. She doesn’t trust you because you’re not trusting her.”

“You’re right. I’m struggling with this. Echo was my shield. I protected everyone in my life, but he protected me. We relied on each other. Nothing feels right without him.”

“Oh, Thorn, I’m so very sorry.” She couldn’t say anything more as she circled him and put her arms around him. Pulling his head against her shoulder, she eased in a careful, constricted breath, her tears, like his releasing the pressure in her chest.

For an instant he simply stood there in her arms. Then he let his breath go and put his arms around her. Alyssa closed her eyes and cradled his head against her, tears slipping relentlessly down her face.

Sensing how raw and stripped he felt—knowing without a doubt that it wasn’t in his nature to lean, that he had been the rock, the foundation in every life he’d touch—she hung onto him, finally, finally understanding the source of his reserve, his wariness. She wanted to be within that select circle of people he depended on, that he cherished, that he trusted.

Dashing away her tears, Alyssa swallowed hard, struggling to achieve a degree of self-control, an outward calm. It wasn’t finished. Somehow, she had to find the key to unlock the rest.

Stroking over his thick hair, she closed her eyes and forced herself to get the words out. “Tell me how you’re feeling,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I want your trust, Tank.”

His chest expanded, then he tried to pull away, but she simply tightened her arms around him, determined not to let him go. Waiting for another contraction in her throat to ease, she cupped the back of his head, pressing her face against his. “Tell me,” she whispered. “You’re safe with me.”

He remained rigid and silent in her arms, then he took a deep jagged breath and started talking. She wanted to absorb everything he said.

“I’m afraid for Blue. If he’d been killed in action, it wouldn’t be so torturous. We would all know. We talk around his absence. We declare that we’re never going to leave him behind. We make sure that we maintain that warrior status quo. Talking about our fears isn’t easy for us. It’s something we bury to keep going. I don’t have to outline the horrors of being captured by someone as ruthless and depraved as the Golovkins. They have members of Team Seven, and we’re already planning to go after them as soon as we discover where they’re being held. But Blue is our medic, and like Echo, there’s a strong bond, and even though that guy can take of himself, we’re protective of him. He’s a badass warrior, but he’s so much more and I love him like a brother, like I love them all.”

Meeting her gaze, he toyed with her hair, straightening a tendril that had escaped her tight ponytail, his expression drawn. The effect of telling her had taken a toll. And his eyes—oh, God, his eyes. Refusing to give in to the feelings churning inside her, she freed her arms, then took his face between her hands, wanting him to understand. “I’m here for you—twenty-four/seven. Don’t ever feel that you can’t come to me whenever you need to. I will never judge you. Like Echo, you have my unconditional attention.”

“That’s significant, Alyssa. I would never dismiss that offer.” Shifting his gaze, he caught one of her hands, then carefully laced his fingers through hers. His voice was husky and a little unsteady when he went on. “We have every intention of getting all those team members back.” His voice wavered, and he stopped and rubbed his eyes; Alyssa felt him try to swallow. It took a while before he could continue. “I swear that, but we’ll pull out all the stops to find Blue and the rest of them and bring everyone home.”

Alyssa had been fighting the good fight; she’d thought she had everything under control, but that roughly spoken admission, that statement of commitment, completely did her in. Unable to see, unable to speak, she clenched her arms around his shoulders, and Tank held her hard, his face turned against her neck.

It was a long time before Alyssa could ease her hold. She felt as if she’d been wrung out to dry.

“I have no doubt you will do everything humanly possible to bring those men home alive,” she whispered unevenly. “But don’t forget that you need self-care and to think about moving on from Echo to Bronte. I know that you love what you do. I see it in your eyes. Training with her will save lives, and your team needs you and her to work together for them.”

His chest expanded sharply; then he hugged her so hard that she couldn’t breathe, and she hugged him back, knowing that if Thorn “Tank” Hunt had ever needed to hear that, it was now. She held him until she felt the awful tension ease and then shifted her head, smoothing her hand up his neck. He needed her. He needed sweetness and solace. And soft, soft loving. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered. He went still; then he inhaled sharply and gathered her up in a hard, enveloping embrace.

Later that night, Alyssa lay in bed in Tank’s arms, listening to his rhythmic breathing. His bedroom was masculine and rugged, the big bed warm and comfortable. She absently fondled his hair, thinking it would have been a perfect night for a walk on the beach. But they had made long, leisurely love instead and then had watched the stars in the black night sky before he’d fallen asleep. She smiled. At least she assumed he was asleep. He’d been boneless and quiet for the last thirty minutes.

Shifting her head, she gazed at him, liking the feeling of his big body next to hers, the possessive way he held her with his arm tucked around her waist. Her face was turned toward his, and she smoothed her thumb along his temple, through his glossy beard, then tucked her chin and brushed a kiss against his sexy mouth, smiling when he made a soft humming sound.

He made her feel so damn beautiful with the way he touched her, the way he looked at her. Owning herself, that was something she had always done intellectually. Her mind had been her vehicle. But she’d only discovered the physical was just as potent, something she’d downplayed for so damn long. Her father’s disapproval made her squirm inside with a restless need for freedom from this need to not disappoint him. Like Tank had said, it was better to do that than disappoint herself. Her father wanted her to make it in a man’s world on his terms.

Now, after experiencing Tank who made her think, she wanted to experience the world on her own terms. She’d just have to figure out for herself what that meant.