Page 14 of Under One Roof

“Wow. That’s… You really are a superhero, huh? My friend’s brother tried and didn’t make it.”

Only twenty-five percent of candidates make it through BUD/S training. They don’t call it Hell Week for nothing, but then again, when Andi reaches her fingers up to my bicep and traces the tattoo on my arm, I have to close my eyes at the sight of her small hands on me.

Hell Week is nothing compared to this, keeping my will in check and not touching her.

“Thank you for your service,” she says quietly, her fingertips following a vein on my forearm.

For once, my usual reply stalls on my tongue. Instead of “Serving my country was worth it,” I say, “You were worth it.”

While her cheeks pinken and silence descends between us, I don’t want to take it back. Because it’s true. Yes, serving my country was worth it. Serving and protecting the country that is the home to this woman is beyond worth it.

“Did you like it?” she asks after a while, and I force myself to look down at her once her hands are back at her sides.

“I wouldn’t say people like being a SEAL.”

Her brows furrow, worry lining the creases of her mouth. I can read her emotions like the back of my hand, and she thinks she said something wrong. She didn’t.

I drag the tip of my finger over my name on her chest. “It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life. The scariest. Also, some of the best times I’ve ever had with men who are my brothers.”

Her jaw moves as if deciding how to respond for a few seconds before she finally says, “Are you okay, though? How long have you been out?”

I avoid the former and answer the latter.

“I’ve been out since my kids were born. It was hard at first, for a lot of reasons, but I don’t get swept up in the past. I stay present and run a tight ship here…so to speak.”

“I see what you did there,” she murmurs with a smile as she wraps her hand around my wrist, her fingers cool against my pulse point. “But, really. You’re okay?”

She eyes me carefully, and I hate that I can’t seem to keep my goddamn mouth shut with her. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Nothing a few years of therapy and antianxiety meds couldn’t fix.

She doesn’t let go of me, and I don’t try to shake her off. “So, Captain, what do you need me to do?”

“Keep my ship running.”

She grins, dimples appearing. “Really milking this metaphor for all it’s worth, huh?”

I ignore the way my chest tightens and the growing pull to give in to my own smile. “I need someone who can keep my kids in line when I’m not home. I need someone who will give them structure, set boundaries, and make sure they stay on track with schoolwork and chores. Think you can handle that?”

“Sounds easy enough.”

I huff. “That’s what you think.”

“I know I may not look like it, and we didn’t meet under the best of circumstances, but I’m tougher than I appear.”

“Though she may be but little, she is fierce,” I quote, and she finally releases her hold on my wrist. I miss it immediately.

“You know Shakespeare?”

“Days were long when we weren’t deployed.”

“So you read Shakespeare?” she asks with a laugh, and I shrug.

“The library wasn’t very big. There were only so many books to go through, so a lot of them got reread.”

“Handsome and smart.” She clucks her tongue coquettishly. “Remind me why you aren’t married?”

“I was. She died from complications after giving birth to the twins.”

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