Page 24 of Burly and Obsessed

“When I was with the SEALs, we had a hostage extraction operation.” The words still carry the pain of the memory, even though I haven’t said them in years. “There was a civilian translator trapped in the kill zone. I saw his eyes—the terror—and I broke formation to pull him out. I’d been explicitly told to stand down, that we couldn’t attempt to rescue him. But he was a good man and I couldn’t stand by and watch him die—and he would have died.”

I swallow hard, memories flooding back with painful clarity. My shoulders tighten, my stance automatically widening into a defensive posture.

“The translator lived. But my teammate caught shrapnel. My CO branded me a cowboy, a risk to the unit. A dishonorable discharge was coming until my father—a retired Master Chief—cashed in decades of goodwill to knock it down to general under honorable conditions.”

Andrea’s gaze never wavers from my face, but I can’t meet her eyes. Not yet. My fingers press into my palms, leaving half-moon impressions that ground me in the present.

“I hated that bailout almost as much as getting kicked off the Teams. I did the right thing and the wrong thing at the same time, and no one seemed to get that. I couldn’t stand by and watch someone who was part of our team get killed, even if it meant disobeying a direct order.” My voice roughens. “I still have nightmares about it. Sometimes I wake up thinking I’m back there, heart pounding, sweating through my sheets.”

My hands ball into fists at my sides. I pace a few steps, muscles coiled with tension that has nowhere to go.

“I did the right thing...and it still cost me everything. My career. My team. My father’s respect.” The admission burns. “When I came here, I was terrified of disappointing everyone again. After I was discharged, I spiraled. I almost ended up in jail—or worse—more than a few times. My dad knows Jax and convinced him to take me under his wing and give me a spot on his team, and help me get back on track. Having my dad bail me out again was hard, but ultimately, his help got me to a place where I could get back on my feet.”

I finally look at her, desperate for her to understand. Andrea rises from the bench, the pale lavender of her dress glowing in the moonlight. She’s so damn beautiful it physically hurts to look at her.

“And being here led to meeting you. Meeting you was the first time I felt seen since before the incident. You’ve never tried to change me or tell me I wasn’t good enough—even when you were angry or sad with me. Through everything, you saw through to who I am underneath it all.”

Andrea stands and steps toward me, but I’m not finished. I force myself to remain still, even as every cell in my body urges me to close the distance and wrap her in my arms.

“But none of that scares me like you do.” I can’t resist any longer. I move toward her, reaching for her hands, finally closing the gap between us. I stroke my thumbs across the delicate bones of her wrists, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch.

“I want to be better. For you. Not because I need to prove something—but because I want a life that includes you.” My heart pounds against my ribs. I hold her hands tighter, drawing her slightly closer. “Loving you feels like the first right decision I’ve made since leaving the Navy.”

The words hang in the air between us, more exposed than I’ve ever allowed myself to be. No jokes. No deflection. Just the raw, unvarnished truth. My own hands shake as they hold hers.

Andrea doesn’t respond immediately. The silence stretches, broken only by distant music and night sounds. Her expression is unreadable, and doubt creeps in. Her fingers remain in mine, but they don’t squeeze back.

I turn slightly away, mistaking her silence for hesitation, though I don’t let go of her hands. “If you need to walk away, I’ll get it. You deserve someone steadier, safer.”

Her eyes hold mine, deep and searching. The silence between us grows heavy. I’ve laid myself bare tonight—first with Jax, now with her. My body stays tense, waiting for her reaction.

“I’m not quiet because I’m doubting.” Andrea’s fingers trail up my arms, leaving fire in their wake. “I’m quiet because I’m overwhelmed.”

Relief floods through me. I’ve spent three years watching her from a distance, memorizing every detail while keeping my distance. Now she’s here, real and warm against me, choosing me despite everything.

“You don’t have to be perfect, Ace.” She places her palm flat against my chest, right over my thundering heart. “You just have to be here.”

The simple truth of her words cuts through every defense I’ve built. All my life, I’ve tried to be perfect—the perfect SEAL, the perfect son, the perfect team member. I failed at all of them in some way. But Andrea isn’t asking for perfection.

“I am here.” I cover her hand with mine, pressing it harder against my chest. “All in. No more hiding.”

“I see you.” Her voice softens as she steps closer, eliminating what little space remains between us. “All of you. The man behind the jokes. You don’t scare me.”

My throat tightens. For years, I’ve hidden behind wisecracks and an easy grin, taping metaphorical “Kick Me” signs to chainsaws to lighten any mood. No one has seen past it or even tried to. No one except Andrea.

“I was afraid I’d never be enough for someone to fight for.” Her confession comes in a whisper, her eyes dropping briefly before meeting mine again with startling vulnerability. “But tonight, when you stood up to Jax—”

I can’t wait another second. I capture her lips with mine, pouring everything I’m feeling into the kiss. No more hesitation. No more fear. Andrea melts against me, her body fitting perfectly against me.

She tastes like champagne and indescribable sweetness. My hands cradle her face, thumbs stroking the delicate skin of her cheeks. This isn’t just another kiss. This is the finest moment of my life since leaving the Teams.

Andrea’s fingers slide into my hair, gripping just tight enough to send electricity racing down my spine. Her lips part beneath mine, inviting me deeper. The kiss shifts from tender to hungry as her body arches into mine.

I breathe her in—floral perfume mixing with the pine-sharp mountain air. The scent imprints itself on my memory, creating a before and after. Everything that came before this moment seems hollow in comparison.

“God, Andrea,” I whisper against her mouth, reluctantly breaking the kiss to catch my breath. Our breathing synchronizes, quick and shallow in the night air.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Her hands remain tangled in my hair, keeping me close. “Wanted you.”

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