A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(61)

He cupped Char’s chin in his palm. She looked like a younger version of Julia. The same auburn hair, a shade darker than her mother’s. The same oval face and cute, up-turned nose. All she’d gotten from him were her hazel eyes and unruly curls. Still, every time he saw her, his chest ached. He wasn’t ready to start dating again. Marriage and family had suited him fine. “You’re too old for your own good, you know that? You shouldn’t be taking care of me. You should just be a kid.”

Char was smart like her mother, too. She got straight As in school with little effort, constantly had her nose in a book, and since Julia’s death, seemed to have made it her mission to take care of him. It’s what they’d done since Julia got sick, how they’d gotten by: they took care of each other. Her enthusiasm for his dating again came from a more basic need, though. She wanted him to stop being sad.

At least that’s what she’d said last week when he’d finally given in and agreed to his sister’s cockamamie scheme. The problem was, he wasn’t sure how to stop being sad. How do you stop missing someone when you’d give both arms to have them back?

The heavy emotion in Char’s eyes lightened, and she shot him a mischievous smile. That was something else she’s gotten from him—her playful nature. “Somebody has to take care of you. We’d eat out every night if I didn’t make you cook.”

A twinge of guilt of tightened his stomach. She was right, of course. He couldn’t cook to save his life. Julia had always taken care of that. Along with a host of other things, like laundry and grocery shopping. Even after his parents’ deaths, Molly had taken care of what he’d always considered the “girl stuff.” He hated the grocery store. It was too damn crowded and too damn bright. If you asked him, the drive-through was just easier all around.

“I don’t know what you have against takeout. Most kids your age could live on the stuff.” Gabe turned back to his reflection and poked a finger into his collar, tugging at the tie cinched around his neck. “Is the tie really necessary?”

He hadn’t worn one since he’d gotten out of the service four years ago. Spending most of his day at the custom motorcycle and repair shop he co-owned with one of his best friends, Marcus Denali, he had his hands in engine grease the majority of the day. Anything more than a T-shirt would only end up grimy anyway.

Char slipped one end of the tie into the loop she’d made. “Yes. It’s nice. Plus, it’s blue. That’s what they said, right? You have to wear blue so she’ll know it’s you.”

He sighed and stared at his reflection. For the first time since Julia died three years ago, he had a freakin’ date, from a service, no less. One of his mechanic’s wives owned the exclusive dating service Military Match. Trent Lawson, a fellow SEAL who did most of his custom detailing, had used the place with good results. He and his fiancée, Lauren, were getting married in three months.

“Besides, I like this tie. Mom gave it to you for Christmas before she died. It’ll be good luck.” Char readjusted his tie and patted his chest, then stood back to eye her handiwork. A self-pleased smile etched across her face. “There. You look perfect.”

He shook his head. “I must be out of my mind.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Three years alone, and he still wasn’t ready for this. He was, however, lonely. He missed the simple things, like not having to sleep alone and waking to warm, soft curves. Getting married again, though, he flat out wasn’t ready for.

What he hoped for tonight he hadn’t a clue. Companionship? To get laid? Someone else to talk to besides Char and Molly and the guys at the shop? Hell. He’d figure out the rest when he got there. At the very least, it would get Molly off his case.

The doorbell sounded through the house, and Char’s brows shot up, her eyes widening with excitement.

“That’s Aunt Molly!” She darted out of the room, her feet thumping down the hall.

Gabe turned from the full-length floor mirror to the picture on the dresser beside him. He touched the glass, tracing the curve of Julia’s forehead with his thumb. She’d been healthy then. Alive and vibrant. Her smile still took his breath away. “Wish me luck, Jules.”

He drew a deep breath, trying his damnedest to ignore the nausea swirling in his stomach, and followed Char. Emerging into the front room of the house, he found her in the foyer with Molly. Since Julia’s death, Molly had taken to helping him with Char. He was grateful to her on that front, because he was in over his head. He hadn’t a clue how to raise a little girl. If it were up to him, Char would be in the shop with him, learning how to take apart an engine. Julia had always insisted little girls needed a feminine role model. Luckily for him, Char adored her aunt Molly.

Molly glanced up as he entered the living room. A slow smiled curled across her face, amusement gleaming in her eyes. “Wow. Look at you. Hot stuff.”

He glared at her as he approached the foyer. “Stop.”

Molly’s smile drooped. She turned to Char and tousled her hair. “Why you don’t go pack your stuff for the weekend. Give me a minute with your dad.”

Char shot him a sideways scowl. “Cheer him up, Aunt Molly. He’ll ruin his date.”

With a shake of her head, Char strode for her bedroom. Once she was out of hearing range, Molly turned worried eyes on him.