Mission: Her Protection (Team 52 #1)(39)

Maybe it was because Lachlan had woken her up with his mouth just after six a.m. She closed her eyes reveling in the memory. Then, he’d added his hands and cock, and she’d probably disturbed the neighbors again.

She took another big sip of her chocolate-laced coffee. She couldn’t find it in her to be sorry if she disturbed anyone’s sleep, because for the first time in a long time, she felt good.

But that made her think of Lars, lying still and unmoving in a bed, and the others who’d died. Her heart clenched. It had to be a bad thing to feel so good, when everything else around her was so wrong.

She heard footsteps and guessed that Lachlan was out of the shower. She was wearing another one of his T-shirts, and when he appeared, he was wearing no shirt, and only a pair of dark cargo pants riding low on his narrow hips.

She drank him in. Damn, the man was fine. She eyed his tattoos and his bronze skin. That intriguing prosthetic arm that only added to his appeal. Not to mention those abs that she’d worshiped with her mouth earlier.

His golden eyes were on her and he moved straight to her. His kiss was hard and deep.

“Morning,” he murmured.

“Can’t talk. Brain cells have been turned to mush.”

He grinned, and she liked seeing him look so relaxed. Then he reached over, grabbed her mug, and sipped her coffee.

“Hey,” she complained.

He tucked her into his side and sipped again.

She traced a finger over his tattoos. The large one on his shoulder made sense. She saw the elements of the Marine emblem in the intricate design—the eagle, the globe, the anchor, as well as a cross. But the letters down his side, she couldn’t guess.

“When did you get the tattoos?”

“One on my shoulder after I made Force Reconnaissance. I was pretty darn proud.”

She moved lower, her fingers tracing the letters. “And these?”

She felt him tense and she was sad to see the ease go.

“Those are the initials of the buddies I lost in my final mission. When I lost my arm.”

Demons danced in his eyes and Rowan bit her lip. “What were their names?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ignoring it won’t help, Lachlan—”

“That fancy PhD of yours in shrinking heads?” he spat.

Rowan felt his words hit her, but she stiffened her spine. “No. I just care about you.”

“Fuck.” He pressed his hands to the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry, I should never have asked—”

“Evans, Johnson, and Simms.”

She stilled. “You marked them on your skin so you’d never forget them.”

“I will never forget. I’ll never forget their screams. Never forget that my reckless mistake got them killed. Never forget that I couldn’t save them.”

His words came at her like bullets. “Lachlan—”

He closed his eyes. “I’ll never forget because I look at this metal arm every day and remember. I’ll never forget because I look in the mirror everyday and see my dad’s eyes.”

She sucked in a breath. “Your father had a drinking problem that he used to try and cope with what was clearly PTSD. You are not him.”

“I could be. I made the decision to head into a cave system in Afghanistan to gather intel on a rumored torture camp. I should have fucking waited for backup. I have to live with that.”

She gripped his hand—his prosthetic one—twining their fingers together. Her hero, still beating himself up, even when he went to work every day to protect others.

“There were more insurgents than we expected. They nabbed Evans and tortured him. We could hear him screaming.”

Rowan held on, forcing herself to listen to every word. She knew now why Lachlan had made the decision to go in.

“But by the time we got in there, Evans was dead. Blair got a knife to the eye, Johnson got a bullet to the head which didn’t kill him but left him a vegetable, and I…”

“Tell me.”

“I’d tossed a few grenades and part of the roof collapsed.” His chest shuddered. “I’d pulled the pin on the next grenade when a rock hit me. I was pinned down, too fucking close to the grenade. Blast mangled my arm.”

She wrapped her arms around him. She couldn’t imagine the agony.

“Blair dragged me out, blood dripping down her face. Together, we got Johnson out.”

They’d survived, but had been battered to hell. She hugged him hard. “You can’t save everyone, Lachlan. All you can do is make the choice to fight, protect, and know that sometimes your best isn’t good enough. Then you get up, and take each day at a time.”

His arms wrapped around her. His embrace was so tight, she could barely breathe, but she didn’t let go. She stroked her hands over the sleek skin of his back, and slowly, she felt his muscles relax.

“Team’ll be here soon,” he murmured.

“What’s the plan for today?” she asked.

“We’re going to link up to base from here.” He finally loosened his arms. His gaze searched her face. “How come you aren’t looking at me with pity, or disgust, or something?”

“Because I don’t feel any of those things. Sorrow you got hurt, sympathy for your friends. But you’re alive, Lachlan, and you’re still being a hero with the work you do.”