The last day of Sean’s career in the Canadian Forces started in the best way possible—with his wife coming home in the early morning, before dawn, and crawling into bed with him.

“Baby arrive?” he asked, shaking off the heavy veil of sleep.

“Yep. Fast and furious. A little bit of excitement after the delivery with a blood pressure drop for mom, but they’re all okay now.”

Her hair was damp from the shower. It felt good to touch and he curled his fingers into it and tugged.

They hadn’t had a chance to finish their conversation the night before. Hadn’t gotten to what he’d hoped would follow the conversation, either.

“You tired?”

“I’ll sleep soon.” Something in the way she said it made him blink his eyes open.

She was wearing that plaid shirt she’d given him.

And, God willing, she wasn’t wearing anything else. Her bare leg was curled up and around his body.

He was suddenly a big fan of red flannel.

“Hey,” he said softly, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “You look…wow. I like the shirt better on you.”

She rose, too. This was the most arousing image in the world—Jenna, rising on her knees beside him, smiling as she reached for the three buttons she’d bothered doing up in the first place.

She didn’t even need to open her shirt and he was blissfully, thankfully hard. Ready and eager for his wife.

He pushed the blankets away and sat up, leaning back against the headboard. She crawled into his lap, straddling him, as the shirt fell open. He skimmed his fingers over her waist and curled them around her breasts. Cupping, squeezing, loving.

That he had this again was a gift. He would never take it for granted.

He’d lost much, and some he would never gain again. But he could hold his wife in his lap. Slide into her tight, wet heat, and hear his name on her breath as she sighed.

“Sean…”

He’d had so many plans.

Races to run.

Wars to fight.

And then he’d walked into that mess tent and fallen head over heels in love.

When he lost the ability to run, to fight, he’d thought he’d lose this too.

But this—Jenna, and their love—had saved him. It had given him a new set of dreams and goals.

He’d build her a house.

“So…” she said, her breath hitching as she rode him slowly. “You want to make babies with me?”

He curved his hands around her waist and lower, cupping her bottom. His fingers stroked her ass lightly, teasing her crease the way she liked before he squeezed her cheeks tighter and urged her to pick up the pace. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

She wouldn’t be hurried tonight, though. “Maybe we could build this house first.”

“Definitely by the time the second one comes along.” Oh, he could tell she liked that. She shuddered in his arms and rolled her hips, pulling him deeper into her body.

He was going to be just fine.

Broken.

Put back together.

Missing a few pieces, maybe, but Jenna had filled those spots with new and way more interesting plans.

He had a wife and the promise of a family. A plot of land and a house to build. A set of skills for which he would forever be grateful.

“One thing at a time,” she whispered as he tugged her forward so he could get his mouth on her breasts.

Sure, they’d take it slow. But they’d learned together that even small, careful steps could eventually get them where they wanted to go.

He tugged her shirt—his shirt, their shirt—down her shoulders, baring more of her as she rose above him. Through lust-hooded eyes, he watched her body roll in pleasure. Muscles moving beneath overheated skin. Flushed marks decorating the swells and dips he’d now memorized.

She was his, and he was hers.

He pushed up, suddenly craving that tight, desperate squeeze of her heat around him. Like he was too big for her, too much. Of course he wasn’t, but there was now always that little bit of his brain that worried he wasn’t enough. What turned him on worked in weird ways to balance that doubt.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” Jenna breathed. She knew. She knew him to his soul. “God, yes, Sean.”

With a cry, she came around him, and he jerked his own release deep inside her.

His gorgeous, wonderful wife.

It was the last day of a chapter in his journey that had once been everything. His mission, his drive. Now it was just a bittersweet goodbye to what had been a good gig while he had it, and which had mercifully carried him to meet the woman who would be the rest of his journey.

His forever.

* * *

Since Jenna needed to sleep, Sean also spent much of the day in bed. He’d spend the night getting drunk for the first time in almost exactly a year.

He was not wrong—that is exactly how it was playing out at the Wiarton Armoury.

“This time last year we were heckling you for falling hard and fast for Liana,” Sean said to Dean when his older brother brought him yet another beer. He was on his third now. He’d skipped all of his meds today, which meant tomorrow was going to be a fucking gong show in his head, but this was his mug out—drinking was non-negotiable unless it really wasn’t an option, and that wasn’t the case for him.

“This time last year we were having a wicked party at your place,” Matt added shamelessly as he joined them.

Sean gave him the finger. It wasn’t a lie, it was just…a different time in his life.

Now he made different choices—like nursing this beer and passing off the other rounds bought for him to those in attendance. Not that the officers, even the junior ones, were likely to get blitzed.

But the Fosters were in attendance tonight, and that changed things.

His brothers were all non-commissioned officers, and their messes—first the Junior Ranks Mess, now the Sergeants mess—were more raucous than the Officers’ Mess.

But they were all here by invitation. And they were all bored out of their minds.

So was he.

“To the Queen!” Jake called out, raising his beer high.

Sean grinned. It was good to be back in uniform one last time. Before coming up to the mess, he’d spent an hour sitting with the CO and the padre. He took their lectures on the chin—he’d been too distant, too closed off, and could have accepted more support from the unit.

He hadn’t wanted it. Couldn’t see at the time that they meant well.

He was glad he came out of that haze when the unit was stood down for the summer.

After the formal goodbye meeting, he signed the last few pieces of paperwork for his release with the clerk, promised to return his uniforms within fourteen days, and headed upstairs to the mess.

“To the Queen,” he murmured as he raised his own bottle.

The next toast was a quiet one. Dean pulled Matt in close, and Jake closed in on the other side, until they were in a circle of just the four of them. “To our baby brother,” Dean said. “Full of surprises and capable of anything.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jake said.

“You guys have been…” Great. Far too patient. Rockstar brothers. There weren’t words to properly describe how Sean felt. “I’m beyond grateful,” he finally said. “For all the ass kicking, and driving, and food and shelter and beer.”

“More of that in the future,” Dean said gruffly. “Jake pushed the calendar appointment to my phone this afternoon. Construction begins in March?”

“Yep.” Sean had a plan. Having a contractor for a brother brought costs down, but building a house was still a significant cost. It would eat up most of his savings.

But Chloe was helping him build a website, and Jenna had booked a week of holidays. They were heading to Florida in December, to his old winter training camp. This time, he was returning as a speaker and limited-run special coach. The fees for that would cover his income needs through to the end of the spring.

And so it would begin. The rest of his life.

“Hey,” Dean thumped him on his shoulder. He pointed to the door, where their father stood. He wasn’t in uniform—long retired now—but as a former member of this very mess, as a former CO of the unit, he was always welcome. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

Sean gave a single nod, and the room didn’t spin. A small improvement that felt like he’d climbed a mountain. “Yeah. I invited him.”

The look on his oldest brother’s face was priceless.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Dean raised his voice. “Over here, sir.”

“Sons,” the Colonel said as he approached. “I see you’re bringing your beer-guzzling ways into the Officers’ Mess.”

“Only way to do a mug out, Dad,” Matt said. “Mug. Of Beer. Well, I’d do a mug out with gin, too, but I don’t think you’d approve of how that would end.”

Jake groaned. “Don’t say it.”

Matt crowed as he lifted his beer in the air. “Pants off, all the way.”

Their father immediately turned and scanned the crowd. “Good turn out tonight.”

Sean cleared his throat. “How about you and I go have something that’s served in a proper glass?”

That got more shocked looks from his brothers.

Good.

He was all about surprising them. First with the fact he’d owned a plot of land all this time, then with his business ideas. Now with his ability to act like an adult with their father.

“Matt, make sure your pants stay on until you head back to your own mess.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Last day for that,” his father said as he led the way to the bar.

Sean nodded. “Yep.”

“How do you feel about that?”

He’d been thinking about this all night. “You know, sir. Jenna’s taught me something pretty significant this summer. We don’t always get what we want, you know? Thank you.” He accepted a glass filled with what smelled like brandy. “But we can make what we get something worth wanting.”