The minute Blue got home, all he wanted to do was Charlie. She’d been there on the tarmac with the other girlfriends and wives to welcome their warriors home from a mission to track down the warhead that had been nothing but wasted time. They still had no idea where they had gone. It was just luck that they had leave at the same time.

He dropped his duffel in the hall and pulled her toward him, but she escaped his arms. “I’ve got something to show you.”

“I’ve got something to show you, too, babe, and it’s been goddamned lonely.”

“Has it? My poor, neglected baby Blue. Everything in its time. Come on.” She took his hand and drew him down the hall. He frowned.

“Come on, Charlie,” he groused. “I’m not hungry for anything except you.”

“Too bad. This is important.”

He sighed as she stopped before the door to his meditation room. “Charlie…what?”

She pushed the door open, and his breath caught. Everything had been restored, the artwork on the walls, the Buddha, his pristine white mat. And in the center of the room was a small brazier with a kettle on it, steam escaping. Around the brazier were his team members still in their battle gear. They must have come straight from deplaning.

“I’ve seen enough of these guys,” Blue said deadpan, and everyone laughed. “Sometimes more than I want to.”

“Yeah, that was an unfortunate robe incident,” Kid said.

Blue chuckled and shook his head. Leave it to Kid for the absurd. He turned to Charlie. “Did you do this?”

“We all did this. For you.”

His throat thick, he took in the small scroll that Charlie had hung on the wall, traditional in the samurai ceremony. It had one short message: Hit like the impact zone.

He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you for this. The circle is complete.”

“Love you back, babe.”

They went into the room, and Blue prepared the first of two loose-powdered green teas. Koicha, a more formal tea, thicker with a bitter taste, served in a beautiful lotus bowl, everyone taking a sip. Then there was usucha, thinner and more informal, served in individual bowls. In the past, he’d wanted this room to fill him with peace, but it wasn’t the room function to give him peace. No, he’d discovered that came from inside him.

“This is great and everything,” Tank said, “but we need meat,” he growled, standing and beating his chest.

“Yeah, meat!” everyone yelled.

Charlie laughed and said, “The meat is in the fridge. Will porterhouse steaks do?” There were growls and howls all around. “The barbeque is ready.”

“That one’s a keeper,” Hollywood said as one by one they filed out of the room.

All at once, their significant others arrived: Dana, Ruckus’s wife; Paige, Kid’s wife; Cowboy’s fiancée, Kia; and finally, Tank’s fiancée, Alyssa. Blue leaned over and gave Charlie a long, lingering kiss. “I’m thankful for this, but your timing sucks,” he said.

She laughed. “All in good time, my love. Let’s go bond with your teammates. I want to hear what Kid did on the mission. You know there’s a story there.”

“I live it every mission, so yeah, I know. At least this time he didn’t need medical attention.”

Charlie laughed. “I can’t wait.”

Kid’s story was, of course was hilarious—involving a truck loaded with chickens, eggs, several chicken and egg jokes and explosives, making sure everyone knew there had been no chickens harmed in the op. His closing line was that he’d left those cartel guys with plenty of egg on their faces. Once the party broke up, the food was put away and Charlie and Blue bid everyone goodbye. They made it upstairs and he took her like a man who hadn’t seen the woman he loved for three long months.

---

They lay together in the afterglow, his hand caressing her hip, them tangled up in the sheets and each other. A soft breeze blew over them. Blue tightened his hold on her, then kissed her with infinite care, moving slowly inside her. The loving had been urgent and out of control at first. Charlie’s breath caught when he moved against her, her body still super-sensitized. Releasing a satisfied sigh, he broke off the kiss and looked at her, the light from the lamp beside the bed highlighting the precious angles of his arresting face. He gazed down at her, his eyes warm and intimate, softened by a glimmer of amusement. He smoothed his thumbs across her cheekbones, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You didn’t even tie me up once.”

She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand, then gave him a wry grin and slid her hands up his naked back. “The night is young, and I never go anywhere without my rope.”

He grinned at her, then leaned down and gave her another kiss. “God, you’re a pain in the butt, sassy pants. How about I use the rope on you?”

She savored the taste of his lips, loving the feel of him still inside her. God, but it felt so good to have him here.

He heaved another contented sigh, then braced his weight on his arms and looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair off her face. He gave her that slow, lazy grin of his.

“You think you can take me because you’re a big, bad Navy SEAL?”

She rubbed her hands across his taut shoulders and over his chest. His eyes flaring, his brows rose as her hands delved deeper. “Like you’re helpless,” he said.

She smiled into his eyes. “Oh, you’re so sure of yourself, are you?”

She moved and rolled him onto his back, and his bark of laughter made her heart sing. It was nothing but pure joy. “Looks like I landed myself a beautiful SEAL.”

“I think I got the best of the bargain, my lovely.”

Blinking against the sudden tears, she shook her head. “Nope.”

His face grave with emotion, he cupped her head and drew his thumbs along her damp lashes. “Marry me, beautiful.”

The tears spilled over and she swallowed hard. “Yes.”

He stared at her, his gaze dark and intent, then a trace of amusement tugged at his mouth. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

She laughed through her tears, loving him so much she couldn’t hold it in. “Well, I’m going to omit the dead part, but, yeah, cross my heart.”

The amusement spread to his eyes, making his laugh lines crinkle. “Agreed. I wouldn’t want that.” He stared up at her, his heart in his eyes.

She stroked over his abdomen, her nails raking his lower stomach. Having him with her and knowing it was going to be forever made her happiness complete.

“With one exception,” she said with a very evil grin.

“Oh, we’re negotiating, are we?”

She nodded.

He held her gaze for a space, then started tugging on her hair. “Okay, brat. What’s the condition?”

“There are two.”

“Two,” He breathed out a mock annoyed breath and said, “What are they?”

“One, we do our best to connect wherever we are, no matter how far apart we are.”

His eyes shone. “And the other?”

She lifted her hand and pointed to her finger. “Ring? Duh? Where’s my freaking ring, babe?”

His face went blank, then he curled up laughing so hard, she couldn’t help but join in. “In my jeans pocket,” he said through peals of laughter. She fell onto his chest, and they laughed for several minutes. Then she reached down and snagged his pants, pulling out the box. Her breath caught right before she opened it, then caught again at the symbol of their love. It had nothing to do with the exquisite diamond, but all about what it meant. A lifetime with Ocean.

Without another word, all amusement gone, he took the ring out of the box and slipped it all the way to the knuckle. Then he cupped the back of her head and kissed her, long and slow.

“I love you, baby Blue,” she whispered brokenly. “So much.” “We’ll make this work, Ocean. I know we will. It’s only a five-hour flight from Hawaii to San Diego.”

He pulled her close and kissed her for a long time. “And, from San Diego to Hawaii,” he murmured. “Wherever I’m deployed, you will always be with me, Charlie. I am committed to you completely.”

“I feel the same way. You’re always with me.”

“We have some time before getting back to duty.” He looked up at her, a heart-stopping smile in his eyes. He tightened his hold on her neck, his tantalizing lips only a hairsbreadth away. “Now, let’s talk about some rope,” he whispered.

The laughter chased them into another kiss, his mouth moist and warm against hers until there was no more breath for either of them as they showed each other the truth embedded in their healed, open, and loving hearts.

---

Kalawana, Sri Lanka Kukule Ganga Hydroelectric Dam A week later

Scarecrow sat at the edge of the Sinharaja rain forest, the air so heavy, he was drenched in sweat as it ran like rain from his pores and down his spine. They were tracking a lead on one of the warheads, and the redheaded spook Kat Harrington was taking point. She was dealing orders to Alpha Team, including Ruckus. It was good to have Blue back with them. Good that he and Charlie had found each other. Scarecrow could tell that girl was good for his brother in arms.

Scarecrow batted away another buzzing mosquito. His boots sunk into the rotting underbrush, the decaying odor rose up like gas. It was an island, for crissake. Where was the breeze?

They were getting ready to assault the dam where some remnant of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam had taken the Kukule Ganga Hydroelectric Dam. Scarecrow felt itchy. The Tigers were considered terrorists, and they were gathering weapons to start a new chapter in their bid for control. They had one of the US warheads, sold for a cache of diamonds they had killed for in the Congo.

Alpha Team was here to make sure they didn’t use it against the Sri Lankan people. Wicked was across the makeshift compound they had thrown together, and it wasn’t lost on him that Wicked had some history with Harrington. She stood out amongst the sweaty, dirty, hairy lot of them like a shining ruby, her green eyes always calculating, her obvious skill as a CIA operative on her like a second skin.

Ruckus called out, “Bring it in, guys.”

Finally, something to do instead of standing here, working the perimeter to make sure no one got the drop on them. Scarecrow flung his weapon over his shoulder, batting away the underbrush as he headed toward the tent. They’d been training for three straight days. Anticipation ran along his nerve endings.

Suddenly, he thought about his parents. He often did that before he went into battle. They were fragile, his dad struggling with age and memory loss, dementia that was only getting worse, and his mom struggling with providing care for him. She’d called him three days before, but he hadn’t answered, feeling the need to keep his mind on this mission and the success of retrieving this warhead. It would be a victory for them. As was required, he’d turned his phone off on this mission like he did on all his other missions. His parents were used to him being gone and uncommunicative through his deployments. But still, he thought about them and wondered why she’d called.

“We’ve discovered that the Tigers are indeed holed up in the underground power station.” Harrington unfolded a map and marked the location.

“How are we doing this?” Ruckus asked, clear that he considered Harrington the boss. It was to his credit that he could take orders and seem like he was the one giving them.

“We feel that going at them from the front would be fruitless and could spook them into detonating the warhead and damaging the dam, causing catastrophic flooding.” Scarecrow was getting a bad feeling about this. “We’re going through the tunnel.”

There was complete silence. Scarecrow and his teammates were aware that the water from the Kukule reservoir was fed into a three-and-a-half-mile long tunnel, which led directly to the underground power station. There was a maintenance entrance they could use to get inside the power station that would allow them to get the drop on the Tigers.

The sound of a chopper in the distance made Scarecrow look up. “Who’s that?” he asked.

Harrington pinned him with those no-nonsense eyes and said, “Your ride.”

Fifteen minutes later, they inserted just a half a mile away from the station. Cutting into the tunnel was the easy part. Inside the tunnel was dark, and Scarecrow had to take a fortifying breath. He hated tight, enclosed spaces. He dealt with it because he was a SEAL, but he couldn’t totally shake the discomfort. The SEALs moved with flashlights until they reached the outer wall.

Wicked got them ingress into the station through the maintenance door, and they filed inside. Anyone who’d kill innocent people deserved what they were about to get. He had a full clip. Hot and ready.

The enemy was nothing but a target to take out. Retrieving the warhead was the mission goal. As they moved through the station, Scarecrow shoved his weapon onto his back and pulled out his knife. His teammates were shadows moving with him. He kept track of them as a matter of routine. He’d worked with them so long, he could figure out who was who by their silhouettes. All of them were armed with steel.

Like a ghost, Scarecrow did the grim work of making sure that any man he came across died before any sound could leave his mouth. Once they reached the seat of the power plant, they surrounded the area. There were only four men left standing. Scarecrow could see the warhead.

He moved into position as did his buddies. With one word into the comm, Scarecrow rose up from his crouch and took out his man. Three of them went down.

The Genghis Khan lookalike, the one with the dark hair tied back and a stringy gray Manchu beard, was spared. He was going to tell them what had happened to the other three warheads.

It wasn’t until he was back stateside, shaved, showered, and feeling the cool breeze of the valley wind from his porch that he checked his phone. He was shocked. There had been so many calls from his mom. He immediately pressed her number.

“Arlo, my boy,” she answered. Her voice was full of pain and watery as if she’d been crying.”

“Mom, are you all right?”

“No, son. I tried to call you. I tried so hard to get in touch with you, but they kept telling me you weren’t available.”

“What is it, Mom?”

“Your dad was hospitalized three days ago. Right after he talked to that blonde woman. His heart…he wanted desperately to talk to you. That’s why I called Coronado and tried to get you on the phone.”

“I’m home now. I can talk to him.”

Her voice caught on a sob, and for several seconds, she wept, the sound of her grief shredding him. His throat got tight, and dread dropped into the pit of his stomach.

Her voice ragged with her attempt to stop her crying, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Arlo. He died two hours ago.”

For a full minute he couldn’t speak, so many emotions running through him, groping for a response, looking for a way to understand what the words his mom had uttered meant. His dad had died? Without talking to him? Without hearing his son’s voice for the last time?

His gut churned with a mix of guilt, helplessness, and a growing ball of grief that swamped him. “Oh, God, Mom.” His voice broke, but he kept his composure, barely. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Yes, please, Arlo. I need you.”

He promised her he would be there soon, gave her as much comfort as he could, but all through making the arrangements, he couldn’t shake the sense that whatever his dad had wanted to say to him was something he’d really needed to hear.

Now it was too late. His eyes filled, but he refused to break down now. He had to be strong for his mom.

He was heading home to Red River Parish and Bellise. Going home to lay his dad to rest sort out his mom’s future and find out who the hell this blonde woman was and why his dad had gotten so agitated with her.

---