Every day the life I’d known was slipping farther away from me, and the life I had was threatening to swallow me whole.

“What do you think of this?” I pointed to the bean-shaped table in the corner.

Ana shook her head. “It’s fine if your last name is Planter and you want to look at a peanut all day long.”

She was right. It was ugly. What had happened to me? I used to have good taste, but that was when I was an executive assistant. When I dined in fine restaurants and dated men who wore suits and cologne.

It was a lifetime ago, but it wasn’t. It had been less than a year since I’d lost my hourglass figure and perky boobs. Nine months since I’d moved into Ana’s house in Fury, Colorado.

I took one more look at the table. “All the corners are rounded, which means Blue’s head will avoid turning blue when he bumps it.” I kissed my four-week-old son’s bald melon. He had the perfect scent. It was a combination of baby shampoo and innocence. It would be a while before collisions with furniture became an issue, but now that I was a mom, I took planning seriously. My life wasn’t about me any longer. It was about him.

“All these tables are making me think of food. I need to eat.” Ana’s hand smoothed over her rounded belly.

“Are you kidding me? We just ate.” I couldn’t fault her. I’d been a one-woman-eating-machine when I was pregnant. It was a shock when I only gained thirty pounds.

“It’s been an hour, and I’m eating for two.” She looked around the antique shop. It didn’t help that there were old signs for Coke and popcorn and something called an Abba Zabba. I didn’t know what the hell that was, but the picture looked yummy. Gooey peanut butter oozed from a taffy bar. That had to be good.

“I’ll feed you after we find the perfect table.” I squatted next to the jumbo wooden peanut and fished around Blue’s baby bag for my stash of protein bars. I was no longer pregnant, but I was always hungry. So was Blue. He never seemed to get enough time at the tit. Even now he stirred in the sling with his little mouth suckling toward my breast.

“What about this one?” Ana pointed to a round table in the center of the showroom.

I handed her the snack bar and walked around the smooth wooden disc. “You think this is better?”

She took a bite of the bar and hummed with satisfaction. “As far as aesthetics go, I think it’s nicer looking than the last one.” Ana rounded the table and stared at the piece with a designer’s eye. She had a way of taking something plain and making it pop.

“You’re right, and aesthetics would be important if I entertained anyone, but there’s no one for me here in Fury. Unless of course you count old man Tucker.”

Ana skimmed her fingers across the smooth wood. “Bob sure does have a thing for you. It’s sweet, really.”

“If you like geriatric men.” For an eighty-year-old man, Bob was in good shape, but he was a better companion for our nearly blind neighbor, Mona. At least they were both around before running water and electricity.

I thought about the sweet old man who’d delivered a crib for Blue. It was part of the reason I named my son Blue. Things like diapers, baby clothes, and furniture appeared on my doorstep out of the blue.

When I moved into the house on Abundant, just doors down from Mona and Ana, I’d had a bed and little else. Within a week, my little bungalow was fully furnished. Fury might have had an angry name, but it was a town full of good people.

Ana walked toward me and looked down at Blue. “Do you hear from his dad?” She brushed the light red fuzz that was starting to show on his cue-ball head.

“No. Thank God. The best thing about Trenton Kehoe is his absence.” My baby boy didn’t look a thing like his dad except for his blue eyes, and I was waiting for them to change. All the baby books said they would. Only time would tell if Blue would keep his blue eyes or not. “I do miss men though.”

What I really missed was being held. And, if I was honest with myself, I missed orgasms. They weren’t as good when self-induced. There was no buildup or anticipation. I couldn’t fake myself out. I didn’t have the willpower to pull myself to the edge and back off just to frustrate me. No, I was quick and efficient when it came to self-pleasure.

“You won’t be single forever.” She snapped the price tag from the round table and handed it to me. “I think this is the one.”

“You think so?” I did another circle around the table. “Picking out furniture is a hell of a lot easier than picking out a man.”

“Well, I’ll be there to help with that too.”

“When are you busing in the eligible men from Boulder or Denver? The pickings are pretty slim here.” We walked to the register.

A shit-eating grin spread across Ana’s face. “So Bob is definitely out, huh?”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Did I really move here?” At the time, it had been an easy choice; I had nowhere else to go. Now I questioned the sanity of my decision. I was a single mother living alone in a dusty mountain town. “Seriously, you have Ryker. Your child will grow up with a loving father. Mine is stuck with me.”

The cashier asked me for $102.65. I handed her my credit card. As soon as my hand was free, Ana pulled me toward her. She had that thoughtful look about her. The one that usually softened her face before she gifted me with some quote or words of wisdom.

“You have Ryker too. And me. And don’t forget that Ryker is on his way right now to pick up Silas. They’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Why tomorrow?” It wasn’t that I was desperate to meet the man, although anyone south of sixty was appealing at this point.

“You know, male bonding and all that stuff. Besides, Silas hasn’t been back since that day, and Ryker thought he’d ease him into it.”

“Seems wise. Do you think he’ll stay?” I couldn’t imagine coming back to the place where my parents were slaughtered.

“It’s hard to say. I know Ryker wants him to stay. But Silas needs a constant supply of endorphins to keep him happy.”

I could show him endorphins. There was nothing that would get your blood pressure up like a baby with a high-pitched scream at two in the morning.

I wrote down my address and arranged for delivery of the table. It was the only thing that hadn’t shown up on my doorstep. Not bad for a woman who’d left everything behind. Somehow my less had turned out to be more in many ways.

The grumble of Ana’s tummy was my cue to take her to the diner. It had become our favorite place to eat. That was quite possibly because it was the only place to eat in Fury. The service sucked, but that was because Hannah was still bitter about Ana and Ryker being a couple. So far she hadn’t spit in our food or laced it with rat poisoning—that we knew of.

We ordered the special, and I discreetly pulled out my boob for Blue to feast on.

“You think our kids will be best friends like us?” I opened three packets of sugar and added them to my tea. I knew I’d pay for this later. Anytime I had caffeine or sugar the baby was up all night, but I needed it. I was exhausted.

Ana’s hand dropped to her stomach. “No doubt. Maybe mine will be a girl, and they’ll fall in love and get married.”

I let my gaze drift around the diner. There were families everywhere. Mothers and fathers and kids in tight little units. Grandparents ogling the little ones. “That would be nice,” I said in a dreamy way, knowing the reality would be that they’d fight like siblings.

“You’re acting off today. What’s up?” She followed my gaze around the restaurant. Families everywhere. I didn’t answer, but she figured it out quickly. “You haven’t told them yet?” She reached across the table and snatched my hand into hers. “They’re your family. He’s their grandson. You have to tell them.”

“You’re my family.” My throat tightened, and my voice cracked. “And you’re all I need, which is why I wanted to ask you to be Blue’s godmother.”

It wasn’t how I planned to ask her, but if it got Ana off the subject of my family, then my question served two purposes.

I hadn’t told my parents a thing. I’d managed to stay one step ahead of them the whole time, but something told me they were hot on my heels.

I was the last passenger to exit the plane. The off duty flight attendant’s taste lingered on my tongue. I’d made the mile-high club. In fact, that woman took me into the bathroom no less than three times in the three-hour flight from California. She had a thing for soldiers, and I had a thing for pussy. It was a match made in heaven.

Hell, I’d have her pinned on the bathroom sink right now if the cleaning crew didn’t have to get inside to empty the tanks.

I flipped my new phone off airplane mode and walked up the aisle.

“You forgot this, sugar.” She held out a hand with a phone number on it. “I’ll be in town for a few days.” Sarah was a nice and naughty Southern girl who jumped a flight to visit a friend in Denver. Lucky me.

I smiled and tucked the number into my front pocket. I’d already boarded her craft several times; there was no need for a return trip.

“See you around, Sarah.”

I swung my duffle bag over my shoulder. What I couldn’t carry, I didn’t need. Life was easier that way. No connections. No ties. Endless motion.

My phone vibrated constantly. I knew it was Ryker. He was the only one besides my first sergeant who had the number.

I looked down at his text.

Where the fuck are you?

Big brother was light on words and big on drama.

I cleared the jetway and tossed my bag on an empty seat in the waiting area.

It takes time to put my dick back in my pants. I’ll be out in a few minutes.

I grabbed my bag and walked down the corridor.

“Thank you for your service,” an older couple said as I passed. Not sure whether it was the army green duffle, the crew cut, or the angry agitation that never left my eyes that clued them into my career of choice.

“My pleasure to serve,” I replied. I meant every word of it. I’d done eight years in the Army and was thinking about another tour. Ryker was dead set on changing my mind. That wasn’t going to happen. As long as the Army wanted me, they’d have me.

Once I cleared security, he was there. He was big and beautiful. Well, as beautiful as any man with a chip the size of a tank on his shoulder could be. He was my brother. He was family. That meant everything to me.

He wrapped his arms around me and swung me in a circle. Not much had changed since the last time I saw him. He was still as menacing as before, only now the hardness was gone from his eyes.

“It’s been way too long.” Ryker stepped back and looked me over. To the unskilled eye, I was in perfect condition. I knew better; he didn’t.

“You too, bro. You look amazing.” He pulled my duffle from my hands and hoisted it over his back.

“You carry this shit everywhere?” Ryker leaned forward, attempting to balance it on one shoulder.

“That’s nothing. My rucksack weighs more.” I pulled it from his back and tossed it with ease onto mine. “You’re getting soft in your old age.” I was getting soft too. The weight of the sack was nothing as long as I didn’t have to run with it or for that matter walk too far with it. That had become a recent problem and was part of the reason I was back in the states.

“I’ll show you soft when I get you back to the garage and kick your ass.”

The mention of the garage made the acid in my gut burn. “Can we stop for a drink? I’m not sure I’m ready to face Fury sober.”

Although the nod was slight, the acknowledgement was large. Getting me to Colorado was already a big undertaking. Getting back to Fury would take large quantities of alcohol.

We stepped into the cold parking structure. My breath turned to fog on each exhale. And every inhale made my lungs feel like tightened fists.

“We’re staying in town tonight.” Ryker clicked his key fob, and the lights flashed on an old blue Subaru.

“That’s yours?” He wasn’t even a dad yet, but he had the sedan. “Next you’ll be trading that shit in for a minivan.”

“Man, don’t emasculate me more. You already made me sell the bike. Don’t saddle me with the minivan.”

I tossed my bag in the back and climbed into the shotgun seat. Ryker and I always fought over the front seat as kids. He was older and bigger, and he often won.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a motel. It looked decent. It was well maintained, and there weren’t any drunks sleeping in front of the doors. This was an upgrade from the barracks in Afghanistan, where drunken soldiers were never far off despite the alcohol prohibition.

If there was a will there was always a way. Booze was brought in, in mouthwash and water bottles. One guy’s girlfriend filled lotion and shampoo bottles with whiskey. It tasted like soapy shit, but the taste wasn’t what the troops were after. It was that moment of bliss where the alcohol took over and nothing seemed insurmountable. I needed a moment of bliss right now. I reached for the dog tags hanging from my neck and rubbed the metal in between my thumb and fingers.

“Let’s get a beer and catch up.” After we checked in and dropped our stuff at the room, we walked straight into a nearby bar called the Empty Keg. God help me if the name was accurate. I needed a full keg of bubbly brew and a bottle of whiskey.

Ryker laid a twenty on the bar and asked the grizzled man serving for two boilermakers.

The white head spilled over the mugs. What a beautiful fucking sight. “Here’s to family,” I said and raised my shot glass.

“Here’s to having you home,” Ryker said.

We tapped glasses, and I slammed back the shot. The burn of it ran all the way through my chest and curdled in my stomach.

“You know I’m not back for good. I’m just back for leave.” I sucked in the suds until I got to the cold beer, and then I took a long draw.

“Come on, man. You can’t run from it forever.” He brought his beer to his mouth and stared at me over the rim of the mug.

“I’m not moving back to Fury. There’s nothing there for me.”

Ryker flinched. My words had hurt him. “Fine, but don’t be asking me to sell anything else to help find Decker.”

“I want our family back together.” My voice was firm and no nonsense. The type of voice that sent the privates who worked under me scurrying for cover, but Ryker was like a stone pillar.

“What’s your end game? You want to find him and then come back and see him once every eight or ten years like you do me? Fuck you.” Ryker slammed his beer on the bar. The liquid sloshed over the side. “You said my son or daughter would need their uncle. Did you change your mind?”

Nothing in my life was easy, including this. How did I justify what I wanted when Ryker was right? I didn’t want to be a perpetual victim of Fury. There were too many bad memories there. There were too many bad memories everywhere.

“Hey, handsome.” A tight little blonde took up the seat next to me and saved me from further interrogation. She smelled like cigarettes and cheap perfume, but she was pretty, and I wasn’t picky. After spending year after year in the desert, I had a different scale for attractive. A girl started at a five if she breathed. She made it to a six if she had teeth. Seven if she bathed. Eight if she talked dirty. Nine if she gave head. Ten if she got dressed and left before I woke up.

This one was currently a seven. “What’s up?” I lifted my chin with the greeting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryker rise and walk down the hallway to the head.

Blondie trailed her too long, too fake nail down my chest. “New in town?”

She dropped down to a six because she was an idiot.

“You know every guy that comes to this bar?” I was in Denver for Christ’s sake. There were over half a million people here.

“I know a few.” The chick kept looking over my shoulder like she was watching for someone.

I knew that look, and I didn’t want any trouble. “I’m not interested.” I might have been interested in a quick blowjob in the bathroom, but I wasn’t interested in herpes.

I turned around with my eyes focused on the bathroom. The door opened, but it wasn’t Ryker who walked out. It was a lumberjack of a man whose eyes zeroed in on me, or maybe on the woman next to me. His pace picked up, and he seemed to grow larger as he got closer.

“Get the hell away from my woman.”

I glanced behind me at the blonde. If the smile on her face was any indication, she was pleased with the man’s possessiveness.

“You might want to put a leash on her. She’s been over here dry humping my leg like a bitch in heat.” I turned and faced the bar. The old weathered man behind it backed away.

“Get the fuck away from him.” The man said to the woman just before he grabbed her hair and pulled her off the stool. She stumbled back and fell onto her ass.

I rose from my seat because there was one thing I hated, and that was men who thought they could rule the world with their fists and bad attitudes. Being stupid was never a reason to beat someone unless of course you were this douche bag. He was begging to be beat. I pushed him away from her, which pissed him off more.

The first punch was a doozy, but I’d felt worse. I was ready for a little fist action. I rubbed my jaw and looked down at my fists. The right one was way too powerful for this asshole, so I gave him a left jab that sent him stumbling backwards. The thing about big men was they fell hard. Bigger didn’t make you better. Bigger just made you a better target.

The woman screeched as her man stumbled back. “Don’t let him hit you, Buck” she yelled. Which was ironic to me, since the woman obviously let him abuse her.

I stood up and walked toward the man she called Buck. He bounced on his toes like a boxer. Yep, he’d fall hard.

He threw a punch, and I ducked. I threw a punch, and he fell. “Stay down, you big idiot.”

Idiot was right. Buck might have had bulk, but he was lacking in brains. He stood up and came at me again. This time I let the fury loose. I’d been bottling up shit for years.

My next punch flattened the asshole. He collapsed to a heap on the floor. I looked around to see whether there were any other takers, but no one glanced my way. When the buffoon tried to rise again, I wound up for a final blow.

My fist was in flight when it stopped dead halfway through the air. “What the hell, Silas? You’re going to kill him.”

I looked down at my bloodied knuckles and stepped away from the prone man, who was now blanketed by the blonde.

“Why should this idiot live when better people die?” I never understood why one man died and another lived. It made no sense to me.

“You don’t get to choose.”

“If I did, my life would have been different.” Yep, all of our lives would have been different.