The soft hum of the ceiling fan above, provides enough of a breeze to create a chill in the room and the right amount of white noise to soothe me. It felt good against my overheated skin, my body wrapped around a sleeping Harper.

She’d drifted off a few moments after I took her for the third time, riding me as I had fantasized about at least a hundred times.

I wanted her again, craved the way she screamed my name and told me where she wanted me. How she pushed me back against the mattress as she took what she wanted from me, the necklace I had given her dangling between her luscious breasts. I hadn’t told her everything about the heart she wore, omitting the slight alteration I had Ghost make in the design.

Lance had been dead on when he boasted how I couldn’t watch her every moment of the day. The bastard was far too cocky for my liking, not knowing when to back off when threatened by a valid opponent. Until I could find the source of my unease where Lance was concerned, I would continue to have her monitored, and Lance investigated. Harper was too important to me to risk even a second of her safety. I wanted to keep her close, but most of all, I wanted to hear her say she loved me again.

Her body bathed in moonlight, the silvery rays casting a magical glow around her. Having turned off the lights after round two, she wanted to feel more of me, said the lights took away some of the sensation, and I for one, could deny her nothing.

Running my index finger over her bare hip, goosebumps pebble up in my wake. She shifts her hips, the curve of her ass brushes my rock hard erection, a delicate moan escaping her lips as she reaches her arm around my neck, pulling my lips down to meet hers.

Lifting her leg slightly, I slide the head of my cock between her wet folds, she is so ready for me. Even half asleep her body craves mines as much as I do hers.

“Logan,” she breathes against my lips, the sweet taste of her washing over me.

“Yes, baby?” Reaching between her thighs, finding her warm and slick, pressing on her swollen clit, her ass rocks back against my pelvis.

“Harder.” She demands, tugging hard at my hair between her fingers.

Pistoning in and out of her, I release her clit and travel my wet fingers up her body, finding her nipple and pinching it hard enough to make her pussy clamp around my cock. Harper shakes as she rides out her orgasm, but I’m far from done with her as I spin us around, putting her on her hands and knees. Grasping her hips, I continue the speed she insisted on, laying my chest to her back, my fingers back on her clit. It’s never been like this for me. I’ve never been so desperate for the girl in my hands, never needed to connect to another human being, the way I need her.

Harper knocks the breath out of me when she reaches between her legs and takes hold of my balls, massaging them as her fingers hit my swelling cock diving in and out of her. Her movements are tender, but enough to force my orgasm to bypass my brain and hit with the same force as a wrecking ball.

“Goddamn.”

I curse, slamming into her several more times as I continue to come. As gently as possible, I lower us both to the mattress, covering us with the sheet. “I love you,” I mumble into the back of her neck, smiling when she mumbles it back.

* * *

 Years of waking before the sun has created a habit I’ve found impossible to break. My eyes open as the first rays of the sun began to announce the new day. Harper is sleeping soundly, her head pressed against my chest, leg draped over mine and my arms wrapped around her. Running my free hand through my hair, I stifle a yawn begging to come out. I glance to my right, unsure where Harper keeps her alarm clock, only to find a chair with an afghan draped neatly over the arm.

Turning to my left, where I recall the lamp had been, I crane my neck to see the time. But as my eyes scan beyond the lamp and the bottle of lotion, the air leaves my lungs as I take in the photo sitting in an antique frame.

Two fresh face kids smile back at me; the beautiful girl on the right, a much younger version of the one who lies across my chest. But it’s the boy in the photo, the one who has a big smile on his face, wrapped around the girl I professed my love to. His eyes have haunted me, made me seek out the SEALs to help me to forget my promise to a dying man.

“Tell her I always loved her.”

His desperate plea echoes in my head. How he took my hand, shoving in it the one thing of hers he kept close, wrapping my fingers around the tiny treasure.

Ross had told me about his best friend growing up, how he had waited for years before pursuing Harper. The news of his death coming to her on Valentine's Day, making her justifiably jaded against the theme of the holiday. Harper said his name was Alex, such a common name yet I never made the connection. The statue in the town square, the charity Harper created using the money from his death benefits. Alexander Gray sacrificed himself so that many could live. He also gave me the one thing I’ve regretted all these years; the knowledge that I would never locate the nameless girl he left behind.

As quietly as I can, I slide out from under Harper, being careful not to wake her. Collecting my clothes, I make my way out the door. Recalling the code from the night before, I punch in the numbers and reset the alarm as I escape into the morning air.

How was I going to fix this? I knew how to disarm a man, stop a bleeding wound with ordinary objects, and silently rappel out of any aircraft shown to me. But how was I going to defend myself against the ghost of her first love? The man she has spent every waking moment remembering and immortalizing to the world. I could eliminate any real threat that came my way, but this was different. How do you fight a man who is already dead?

After arriving back home, I rush upstairs taking the steps two at a time, needing to get back to Harper before she woke. I’d placed the chest in the back of my closet the minute the delivery company arrived with it. Over the past few weeks, I’d allowed the contents to fade from my mind, concentrating more on the beautiful woman who had taken possession of my entire world.

Dropping to my knees, the malaise of the moment making me weak and weary. I don’t want to open the lid, like somehow seeing it would make this nightmare a reality. But I had to know, Harper had to know, and I had made a promise to a dying man. I watched as if it was someone else’s hands, shaking like a leaf in an earthquake, pulling at the latch, the metal clanking against itself, shattering the silence in the room. Tipping my head back, the panic rising in my chest as I draw in a deep breath, preparing myself for the inevitable.

“Quit being a pussy, man.”

Reaching deep inside, my adrenalin pushing aside the panic as I hear the words echo off the walls. Lifting the lid, the sparsely used hinges protesting my use of excessive force. Dirt and sand escape and fall to the carpet from the inner edge of the locker, and I want to laugh at how I still can’t escape the tiny particles. Reaching in, I pull out the stacks of awards I tossed in here over the years, laying them beside me.

Old magazines and newspaper clippings my parents sent me, documenting the good things I had missed while I was away. Finally, an old college sweatshirt is all that remains between me and the talisman, which has haunted me. Lifting the soft fabric, the small treasure still wrapped in paper towels and plastic. With the most amount of courage I’ve ever had to muster, I snatch the plastic from the cold confines of my past, shoving it into my pocket.

The drive back to Harper’s goes by in a flash, the sun skirting the horizon on what could be the beginning of the end for this relationship. Parking in the same spot I had last night, recalling how she had commanded my lips as I tried to shift my car into park. Feeling the bag in my pocket, I considered for a tenth of a second tossing the whole thing in the dumpster behind me, taking away the shit storm I was certain I was about to create. But I couldn’t do it, Diesel’s words echoing inside my head.

“No regrets.”

Silence greeted me as I re-entered the shop. Disabling the alarm, I took the stairs one at a time, each one feeling as if I had shoes full of cement, growing heavier with each step. As I stood on the top, I could hear the sound of water running. Stepping into her bedroom, the sheets already pulled back into place, her dress from the previous night neatly lying on the chair in the corner.

Stepping around the bed, my undershirt from last night peeks out from the edge of the bed. I wonder if Harper saw it, choosing to leave it instead of covering her naked body in it. I would have taken her again if I had seen her wearing my clothes, unable to resist the monster inside who would have forced his way out.

Lifting the dress from the chair, I bring the silk fabric to my nose, memorizing the essence of her as I slump into the firmness of the cushion. How beautiful she looked when I walked into the church, the fabric accentuating the curves and dips, which drove me crazy. I owed Ross a huge debt of gratitude, and yet felt like a complete idiot when he suggested I make an appearance at the ball and then get the fuck out. Finding Cole took less than five minutes after I brandished my rank and reminded them of my arrival. He agreed to meet me after his shift, and after my offer of an elaborate honeymoon and reception, I had an invite to the wedding.

“Hey, where did you go?”

Harper stood across the room, hair still wet from her shower, pulled up in one of those clips women use. She had dressed in a pair of yoga pants and simple t-shirt, the casual look taking nothing from the sexiness of her. Taking her in, I contemplated telling her a lie, offering to make her breakfast and then messing up this perfectly made bed as I reacquainted myself with her inner thighs.

“Harper, I need to tell you something.” My upbringing instilled value and morals, being a SEAL chiseled honor and respect into my moral fiber. In truth, I had no other option but to tell her everything. She deserved everything, and so did Alex.

I watched as her face shifted from inquisitive to fearful, her pupils dilated slightly but returned as she blinked. Her fingertips held the heart I had given her last night, her thumb rubbing the tip of the heart.

“First, I want you to know I don’t regret what happened last night. I can see worry in your eyes, and there’s no reason for it.”

Her chest heaves as she lets out a sigh of relief. Guilt filled my belly, as I knew the news I had to deliver would be worse than what she had feared.

“I meant what I said when I told you how much I love you. Please—” my voice faltering as the weight of it all constricted my throat as if I’ve swallowed a mouth full of cotton. “Remember that, no matter what, okay?”

Harper moves to the edge of the bed, collapsing onto the mattress, her frightened eyes trained on me. “Remember when we first started exchanging emails and you told me of the young man you loved? How he died a hero, and the whole town mourned with you?” Harper nodded her head, the fear in her eyes begging me to stop, make the tears collecting there go away.

“What I didn’t tell you was why I chose to become a SEAL, to run away from the skills I had spent years learning, ignoring the needs of the Navy for my own personal agenda.” Putting her dress back on the arm of the chair, resting my forearms on my thighs. “I came into the Navy for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to be a doctor so fucking badly I was willing to do anything to get into medical school. When they sent me to Afghanistan, I thought it would last a month, and then I would be right back in my cushy apartment and fucking any girl I wanted. When the weeks turned into months, and the enemy started fighting back, I knew I would be there for a while.”

Recalling how fucking cocky I was, arrogant as a result of the importance they placed on my skills as a surgeon. “When the insurgents started fighting back, killing as many of our men as we were theirs, my conceit grew ten-fold. They needed me, couldn’t win the fucking game without these fucking hands.” Raising my spread fingers in the air, shaking them with the anger growing inside. I wanted to kick the shit out of the young man I once was.

“When the wounded started pouring in, the need to fix them and return them to the front line was emphasized to me on many occasions. Liberty chits were dangled in front of my eyes, my time away from all the bloodshed just a few skillful surgeries away. But when the men came in beyond repair, torn apart by the bullets some cocksucker back in the states sold these bastards, I knew I was fighting a losing battle.”

The leather of my dress shoes glistens from sun’s rays coming through the window. Giving me pause to collect the right words, discarding the ones, which would do neither one of us any good. “I used to brag about how clean I kept my boots. Even poked fun at the other doctors who walked out of post-op with dried blood covering their shoes.” Swallowing thickly, I recalled the night that changed everything.

“It was hot a fuck when the call for incoming wounded sounded over the PA system. I’d just finished stitching up several guys who had arrived a few hours before, and my body was feeling the effects of lack of sleep and the heat surrounding me. Something held me up as I stood at the edge of the helipad, the blades of the helicopter sending dirt and sand spinning in the air around me. The first guy I saw on the stretcher had a few cuts and a gunshot wound on his shoulder. His injuries were superficial, so I moved on to the next one. The darkness of the helicopter cabin kept me from seeing more than his boots, so I jumped in to get a better vantage point. From the second I laid eyes on him, I knew his time was limited. He had lost so much blood his uniform was discolored to a dark crimson, his name tags unreadable. He had taken several shots to the chest, his lungs full of holes and he struggled for every breath. The corpsman behind me pulled his stretcher from the cabin, but as we ran toward the OR, the man grabbed my arm and called me sir.”

Reaching into my pocket, just as I had watched Alex do all those years ago, my fingers grip the plastic bag as my voice cracked with emotion.

“He took something out of his pocket and made me swear to tell the girl who this belonged to he would always love her.”

Carefully, pulling the plastic from my pocket, taking my time as I opened the bag and grasped the paper towel, just as I’d noticed when Alex pulled it from his pocket, the fucking dust and sand fell from the cracks and crevices.

“I never thought I would meet the girl he spoke of, the one he thought of as he took his last breath.”

I hadn’t laid eyes on the cluster of hair wrapped in a satin ribbon since I placed it in the bag all those years ago. Running my fingertip along the dark strands, the frayed edges of the fabric showing the decay the elements had started.

“But when I woke up this morning and saw the face of the man on your nightstand, I knew I had to give this to you.”

Harper sat with her legs tucked under, both hands covering her mouth as the tears began to journey down her face. She shook her head, I assume trying to make this all go away.

“Alex loved you, Harper.” Laying the hair and ribbon on the bed beside her, I retreat to the corner where I waited for the fallout.