Walker Kent sat in the fishing canoe he’d sat in most mornings for the past year. It was early, but he liked early. Growing up, he’d always been an early riser, and when he’d flown helicopters in the army, he’d loved feeling like a bird in the sky. It was peaceful, and he needed peace. Even though he had an apartment in the city, he’d secretly been camping by this lake and mansion house. He didn’t know who owned it, but they were never here. He knew this because he rowed the lake almost every morning.

Looking around the lake, he thought about the past year. His thoughts flitted to the fact that today was the anniversary for officially getting dishonorably discharged from the army. It amazed him that he’d been able to walk on for the Titans two weeks after getting discharged. It’d been a miracle, some would say.

He grunted and thought about how it hadn’t felt like a miracle when he’d been court-martialed. Even though his actions had saved eight of the men and women on that special ops team. Pain clenched his chest. But he hadn’t been able to save Tams. He blinked and kept rowing. She was the best gunner he’d ever had. She was an honorable soldier, willing to lay down her life … and she had.

He rowed harder. This was what had saved him for the past year. This was why he had camped out here. He needed to be on a lake every morning. Looking up, he scanned the large house that sat by the lake. It was posh. A large, immaculate, fancy house—the upper fifty million kind of fancy. He’d been on the lookout for a house of his own with access to a lake so he could work out his demons, but he wasn’t quite there yet. Another couple of years, maybe.

Finding this lake had been perfect. It reminded him of his favorite lake in Colorado on his grandfather’s property. It didn’t have a house this huge, but that lake was as good as this one. The property had been left to all the Kent brothers, but none of them were currently using it. He would go back to Colorado one day, but for now he would stay in Texas.

He was grateful he’d been given a nice contract to return and play with the Titans again. He hadn’t known what to do when he’d first come home, but fortunately, football had worked out. It had surprised him as much as anyone else that he’d been lucky enough to make the practice team and even luckier to be so good they had pulled him up to first string. He’d helped take the Titans all the way to the Championship last year. Boo-yah!

His thoughts shifted to another professional football player, his brother Will, who was only three years younger than him. He was second string for the Denver Destroyers. Walker thought of the last time he’d seen Will, or any of his brothers. It had been when his mama had passed away nine months ago. They’d all gathered back in Colorado when they’d received news from the hospice nurse that she was fading.

He rowed faster, feeling the familiar anxiety starting in the center of his chest. Breathe in. Breathe out. Long breaths. The therapist had told him it didn’t surprise him that rowing helped. It required controlled breathing.

Closing his eyes, Walker thought of his mother—her soft hands, her caring face. Of the way he and his brothers had all stood by her casket. Of course, one funeral brings up other funerals, and as always, his thoughts went to his wife, who had passed away three years ago. Laura. He’d been on leave and they’d gone to dinner. It’d been raining and that semi had come out of nowhere. There had been glass all over, and he remembered how loudly the horn blasted. He shook himself. These thoughts did not serve him. That was another thing the therapist had told him.

It should have been him, not his wife, not Tams. Anger surged inside of him. He kept rowing. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Stupefied, he let the rowboat slow to a stop. It looked like a woman was standing on the deck of the massive lake house. Good thing he’d cleaned up his little camp before he’d put the canoe in the lake this morning. Having someone here was not good. He began rowing again, unable to stop himself from looking at the woman. Her body was lithe and lean, and she was in Warrior I pose with her eyes closed. His breath hitched. The woman was beautiful. She had red hair, and her tight black yoga clothes contrasted sharply against her soft, pale skin. She looked perfectly serene. Truly, this could be a commercial for the house. She radiated a peace that he would buy in a heartbeat.

Who was she? Searching the rest of the house, he didn’t see anyone else. He’d never seen anyone else here in the past year since he’d been coming to row and then coming to camp. He liked being able to come and use this lake and camp here whenever he wanted. Unfortunately, she might put a kink in those plans.

She put her leg high into the air and moved into another pose. Finding himself admiring her form, he stared. She was flexible. And beautiful. A twinge of attraction pricked the center of his chest.

Lately, with all the relationships his brothers were having, he thought about how he wasn’t having one. Which was fine. He didn’t do relationships anymore.

Still staring, irritation wove through him that someone was here. On his lake. At least, that’s how he felt about it. He snorted. She was probably a billionaire trust fund baby, by the looks of the mansion.

Man, he wanted this house.

He figured, since he was here, he might as well still enjoy the lake. What would be the worst thing? She’d kick him off? It was a good idea to stretch, so he decided he would do some, too. He loved keeping his balance on the rowboat while he stretched. Good core work. As he tugged his shirt off, he thought about the stupid bachelor auction tonight, which he did not want to go to. It made no sense for him to go to an event where they were raising funds for vets. Annoyance rippled through him. More speculation of the details of his classified dismissal had recently hit the news. It was a complete crap show. He leaned into a pose, stretching his arms wide and lunging to the side. Why did people care so much about a story that, frankly, was none of their business?

Breathe in. Breathe out. He had to get out of Dallas for a couple of weeks, unwind. He thought of the stupid auction, again, and wondered if Sheena Turner would be there to get access to the newest quarterback for the Titans, Riker Dylan.

Poor guy.

Kade Kincaid had announced his retirement a few months ago. He said he wanted to focus on his growing family and his lovely wife. Walker had seen the press coverage of his pregnant, pretty wife. He was happy for the guy.

Kade’s brother, Anthony, had decided to go back to the Sentinels as starting quarterback. Walker grinned. At least he’d get the chance to see both of them at the bachelor auction tonight.

Of course, James Knight had wanted all the newbies to come—Riker Dylan, Cole Carmichael, London Wilder, and Knox Sherman. All of them were single, so all of them were roped in. Even though this would be Walker’s second year, he wasn’t in a relationship, so he had to come as well.

Letting those thoughts go, he moved into another pose. He focused on how much he liked being here right now. There was solace here, peace. Everything he wished for in every morning. Today he had it, even though the apparent owner of the house was already irritating him by just showing up.

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