Page 4 of A Very Grumpy Marine

“How’s it been? Being back in Wolf Valley?”

“It’s fine.”

His lips twitch like he wants to call me out on my bullshit.

The truth is, it’s not fine. I miss the Marines. I miss the structure, the mission, the purpose. But a bullet to the chest cut that short, and no amount of wishing will change it.

Kye leans back, studying me. “You always did love giving long-winded answers.”

I grunt, shifting in my seat.

Truth is, I don’t know how to put into words what I feel. Restless. Frustrated. Out of place.

I’m missing something. Something that I’m not sure I’ll be able to find here. Sure, Wolf Valley is home, but it also isn’t.

“It’s been an adjustment,” I admit finally. “I like working at Semper Fly. The guys are solid. Feels good to be around military men again.”

Kye nods. “Better than working with civilians, huh?”

I smirk. “A hell of a lot better.”

Civilians don’t understand. They don’t get the instinct to always check for exits in a room or why I still wake up at 0500 even though there’s no reason to. The guys at Semper Fly? They get it.

“You’ll get used to it,” Kye says, shrugging. “The slower pace, I mean.”

“I don’t want to get used to it,” I snap.

He gives me a look like he knows exactly what I mean.

We’re both bored. Bored with our daily routines. With our jobs. With everything.

My whole life, I’ve needed forward momentum. To keep moving, keep pushing. I don’t know how to sit still.

Kye drums his fingers against the table. “You need a hobby. Or maybe a woman.”

I snort. “Not interested.”

“Bullshit.”

I glare at him. “I’ve been home for a month. I’ve got more important things to focus on than?—”

And then I see her.

It’s like a switch flips inside me, a gut punch so hard it knocks the air from my lungs.

I don’t believe in fate. Or destiny. Or any of that Hallmark crap. But the second my eyes land on her, I know.

She’s mine.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

She’s walking out of the coffee shop, smiling as she looks around. Dark hair tumbles over her shoulders, and her green eyes practically glow in the morning sun. She’s shorter, curvy in all the right ways, wearing leggings and an oversized sweater, looking soft and warm and so damn beautiful that it actually hurts.

She’s a stranger. I’ve never seen her before in my life, but everything inside me—every instinct, every nerve, every breath—locks onto her like she’s a goddamn mission I was born to complete.

Kye follows my gaze, then lets out a low whistle. “She’s cute.”

“She’s mine,” I say without thinking.

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