As I drove away from Cami’s house, I thought about the conversation I needed to have with Palmer. Clearly, it bothered him that I was with Cami even though he had accepted my apology. For years, he’d talked about Cami like she was some innocent girl-next-door type, nothing more than a little sister. I’d even wondered if she actually existed since he’d never showed us any pictures of her. Now that I knew how very real Cami was, I didn’t blame him. After all, he’d been surrounded by a bunch of horny assholes waiting for fresh material to replenish their spank banks, and Cami would have starred in many fantasies.

It was my fault for not reading between the lines, though. Even though Palmer never explicitly said he was in love with Cami, it was written all over his face. Even now, I foolishly ignored the way he looked at her, the way he agonized over her, refusing to accept her final rejection. The conversation was going to hurt, but the bandage needed to be ripped off.

When I walked into Palmer’s, he and Jackson were engaged in an intense video game battle. I stopped at the entrance to the family room and watched them.

“Are you two fucking serious?” I asked. “You’re playing Call of Duty? Haven’t you seen enough warfare?”

“Where have you been?” Jackson asked, barely looking up from the television screen displaying the digitized images of all-too-familiar scenes. I shook my head in disbelief. We were supposed to be on leave, trying to forget some of this shit.

“Cami called. She found out some news about her dad, and she just needed to talk,” I answered as I walked a few steps into the room.

Palmer paused the game, causing Jackson to unleash a string of profanities, and looked up at me. “Is Alex okay?”

“It’s not my place to say. I’m sure Cami will tell you, though.” I didn’t know enough about Alex’s illness to truly answer anyway.

“So did you do more than just talk?” Jackson grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. I retreated uncomfortably to the doorway because I really didn’t want to talk about that in front of Palmer. He didn’t need me constantly rubbing it in that I was with the woman he’s loved unrequited for years.

“Let it drop,” I said to Jackson.

“Oh, come on! Spill the juicy details.” I growled because Jackson was treading on some very thin ice. Palmer looked like he was either going to be sick or punch something.

“Jackson,” I warned him. “Stop.”

“Dude.” Jackson’s teasing expression became serious as he stared at me with surprise. “You’re in love.”

I narrowed my eyes but looked away. “Fuck off. No, I’m not. Is Cami special? Hell, yes. But I’m not in love. No way.”

“Palmer, Garrett is in love with your precious Cami!” Jackson’s laughter was practically hysterical, and he didn’t even notice the intense stare down that Palmer and I were now locked in. It was clear I had claimed something he thought was his.

In a flash, Palmer was on me with his fists wrapped tightly in my T-shirt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he seethed. He shook me but let go quickly. “Why, Garrett? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you, Palmer?” I demanded. Jackson stopped laughing and watched us cautiously. He knew better than to interfere and would only step in if it got physical. “Val said you were talking shit about me last night. Apparently, when I’m on leave, I fuck anything with a pussy.”

Palmer looked away, but I could see the tension in his jaw. “Cami was supposed to be mine. You should have stayed away.”

“You don’t think I tried? Do you really think I wanted to ruin our friendship? You’re like my brother, Palmer.” For the entire week while I was back home, I tortured myself over wanting Cami so bad but not wanting to ruin my friendship with Palmer. And when I returned to Gig Harbor and took one look at her, I knew that all hope was lost. Hurting Palmer was the last thing that I wanted to do.

“Then maybe you didn’t try hard enough because you and Cami getting together happened way too easily,” Palmer spat out. Where the fuck was all of this anger coming from? What else had I done to piss him off?

“I’m sorry if that’s how it appeared. But I heard her tell you more than once that she only wanted friendship. You had to know that she was never going to be yours.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Palmer caught me off guard and landed a nasty blow right in my gut. I doubled over from the intensity of his punch. I waited for the second hit, but it didn’t come. “Get the fuck out of my house,” he spat before walking away.

Poor Jackson was stuck in the middle. I could see the battle between chasing after Palmer and staying to talk with me.

“Is she worth it?” he asked quietly, making his way over to see if I needed help. I brushed away his offered hand and slowly stood. There was definitely going to be a bruise.

“Yes,” I said with finality. “Now let’s go get drunk.”

I made my way through Palmer’s house to the guest room where I was staying and packed my duffel. Palmer sulked in the family room, staring stonily out the window. I didn’t bother with a goodbye. Jackson offered a hand for my duffel, and I handed it off before following him out to my car.

I had no clue where I was going, but it was easy enough to just drive around and find a bar. I’d figure out where to stay later. We pulled into the parking lot of the first one that looked like a decent hole-in-the-wall. Jackson didn’t utter a word or ask a single question until we were both firmly planted in a dark booth with a round of beers in front of us.

“So you want to talk about what just happened?” His voice was casual but cautious.

“Nope.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Jackson took a long pull on his beer and stared at me for a few intense seconds. “You knew that Palmer was in love with her.”

“He never said anything,” I said defensively.

“But you knew, Garrett.”

I sighed. “Of course, I knew. Who couldn’t figure it out? But he always talked about her like she was some kind of little sister.”

“And you went after her anyway.”

I nodded. “Yes, Jackson. She wasn’t dating him or anyone else. Jesus.”

Before this conversation continued, I walked up to the bar and asked for a shot of bourbon. I downed it and immediately asked for a second. Beer was not strong enough for Jackson’s inquisition.

“Listen,” I said, slipping back into the dark booth. I sipped my second shot, savoring the burn as it slid down my throat. “If Palmer wanted her so badly, then he should have done something about it. But he didn’t.”

“That’s not the point, Garrett, and you know it.”

My fist slammed angrily down onto the table. “I know! I understand exactly what you’re saying, but you’re not listening to me, Jackson. I couldn’t stop myself even if I tried. I’m in love with her.”

Jackson blew out a breath, and I looked up at him, shocked by my own admission. Wasn’t I just denying that I was in love? I picked up the remnants of my shot and downed it. Honesty tasted a lot better with alcohol.

“Damn, Garrett. Going back is going to be a bitch this time, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Going out to scout will feel different now.”

We sat in silence for a long while, drinking another round of beer. Scouting was just a part of my job, something I had to do, and I had always been willing to surrender my life for the men I led. I hadn’t yet thought about the effect Cami would have on my judgment, my focus, my priorities. Would I still be willing to risk my life for my men? Of course. I was their leader.

I pulled out my cell phone and opened up my messages. I wanted her to know before I left. I wanted to be honest with her.

“Whoa, dude.” Jackson’s voice startled me. I looked up from my phone to see him staring in horror at my phone. “Are you texting Cami?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She needs to know how I feel.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” His eyes roamed around the empty bottles and shot glasses that now littered our table. We’d only gone through two rounds, but there were more than four bottles on the table. Fuck. How could I lose track like that?

“What if I die, Jackson? What if I die during our next scouting assignment, and she never even knows?”

Jackson held his hands up in mock surrender. “That’s heavy shit. I’m not going to get into that with you right now. But I am smart enough to tell you that you shouldn’t be texting a girl drunk.”

My phone buzzed in my hand. I didn’t want to open the messages because I didn’t want to be disappointed. Even drunk, I knew it was stupid to tell Cami I loved her. It buzzed again and again until Jackson reached forward and pulled it out of my hands.

“She’s worried about you. She wants to know where you are,” he informed me. “What’s this place called?” Jackson looked around the bar before finding its name. He typed out a message and then slid the phone across the tabletop to me. “Give me your keys.”

“What?”

“Cami is coming to get you. Give me your keys so I can head back to Palmer’s.”

Reluctantly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the key. I handed them over as I muttered, “I’m not even that drunk.”

“You might not be that drunk, but you’re a little fucked up right now. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

The door to the bar opened, bringing in the aroma of jasmine. Even the stale smells of the bar couldn’t hide Cami’s familiar scent. I looked up and spotted her walking swiftly toward our booth. She was a woman on a mission.

“Are you okay?” Cami asked breathlessly through a narrowed gaze.

“He’s had a little too much truth serum tonight,” Jackson told her. He stood and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. Jackson threw a few bills down on the table before clapping me on the back. “I’ll put your stuff in Cami’s car. Good luck, man.”

Cami nodded her acknowledgment and took his place across from me in the booth. She reached out and shook each of the nearly empty bottles. Disappointment flashed across her face. She held up a finger, signaling to me. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

It was a matter of seconds before she returned with what looked like a margarita on the rocks. “What happened with Palmer?”

I launched into a full recount, telling her everything including how he blindsided me with a punch to the gut. I loved the way she scrambled over to my side of the booth out of concern. Her fingers tangled in my T-shirt, lifting the hem slightly to check for bruising. Her fingers brushed lightly along the sore spot, and I flinched.

“There’s definitely going to be a bruise,” she murmured.

“Then I guess you won’t be riding me tonight.” The remark was totally crass, but my tongue was loose, and she was so close that all I could think about was tossing her up on top of the table and fucking her senseless.

“Garrett.” She scowled up at me and let my T-shirt fall back down. “Don’t be a dick.”

“I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “Thank you for coming.”

“What’s Palmer’s problem?” Cami grumbled, reaching across the table for her drink. She took a long sip before looking me square in the eye. “There’s never been anything between us.”

“I know, but Palmer isn’t ready to admit that, and I swooped in before he could take another chance.”

“You’re both acting like I’m a possession. Fighting over me like I’m a toy or something.”

“Cami, you are mine. I don’t care how much of a caveman that makes me.” I reached up and threaded my fingers through her hair before leaning down to brand her with my kiss.