The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(87)

She steered him backward. The edge of the chair hit the back of his legs and he slumped down. “You love me?” The words felt unreal. “Me? Why?”

Everything about her softened, and instead of leaving like every other important person in his life, she plopped down on his lap and wound her arms around his neck.

“Why not you?”

“Because no one ever has before.” Bennett didn’t want to admit he’d never heard anyone say the words outside of movies, and certainly not in reference to him. Sarge had been a less talk, more action kind of father figure.

Her chin quivered as she shuffled her hand through his hair. “That’s not true. Your sergeant loved you. Noah loved you. Jack London and Ben and my mom love you.”

It’s funny what a different perspective could do. He wasn’t alone anymore. Even more important, he wasn’t lonely anymore. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her flush against him, burying his face in her nape, his lips against her skin. “And you.”

“Of course me. How could I help but fall for you?”

“I love you, too. Just so you know.”

She relaxed into him, her back curling, and he took her weight with a gratefulness that was overwhelming. Overwhelming too was the realization he might lose her if he didn’t tell her the truth.

“I promised Noah to look out for you if anything happened to him.” His voice was rough. “He asked me to be Ben’s godfather.”

“That’s why Noah picked the name Ben.” She huffed a sigh before forcing eye contact. “The money was your way of taking care of us?”

“Yep.”

“You weren’t intending to get in a relationship with me, though, as a means of keeping your promise?”

“Lord, no, in fact—” He bit the inside of his mouth.

“Spill it.”

Spill, excise … what was the difference at this point? “I’ve been feeling guilty as hell.”

“I think Noah would have given his blessing. He loved you like a brother.”

“It’s not only that. It’s…” He blew out a long, slow breath. “Even when he was alive, I felt a weird draw to you.”

She put some distance between them, her hands resting on his shoulders. “But we’d never met.”

“Your letters.”

She took a quick intake but didn’t speak.

Nerves had him filling the silence. “I built this picture of you through your letters and emails to Noah. Funny, irreverent, sweet. It was something I kept to myself. Noah didn’t know how I felt, but it’s why I avoided meeting you all those years. I was afraid he’d figure it out. Anyway, it wasn’t real. I understood that when you drove to my shop and confronted me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the real you is more complicated and amazing and beautiful … basically, more everything than my imagination conjured all those years ago.”

“Will you tell me how he died? I need to know and you need to tell me. Then, we can move on together.”

He wanted to believe the surety in her voice but didn’t.





Chapter 22


As always and forever, I love you. Make sure you come home safe to me and our baby. We both need you now.

Harper



Bennett hopped out of the helicopter, hitched his bag over his shoulder, and hunched over in a walk-run away from the whirring blades. Dust rose and obscured his range of vision to just a few feet, the grit irritatingly familiar. It worked its way into every crack and crevice, even the most personal ones.

Darren, the platoon officer in charge, was in front of him, and Noah and the rest of the men were on his heels. Stepping out of the shade of the two helicopters was like sticking your head into a preheated oven. As the dust settled, the base came into view and they weaved their way to the briefing room. Gear rattled as they jogged. The helicopters took off, throwing up another wall of lung-clogging dust.

Their SEAL team operated out of Camp Lemonnier in North Africa. They were set apart from the other men. Untouchables who inspired awe. But Bennett felt like just another grunt in a godforsaken desert. Not what he had in mind when he’d joined up to see the world. Nostalgia for the green lushness of the Mississippi swamps reared up to bite his ass at the funniest times.

They had gotten word on the way back to base from their most recent direct-action mission that a high-value target had been identified. A briefing and a few hours’ rest was all they would get before they loaded up and headed out in the dark of night.

Folding chairs were scattered around the room. An AC unit hummed and pumped in blessedly cool air. One corner was taken up with an L-shaped desk that acted as their communication center with laptops and sat-com capabilities.

The primary target was a purveyor of secrets and information. Unaffiliated with any group or religious sect, he spoke one language and worshiped one god—money. The village he’d holed up in was full of his blood kin who might well be unaware of his activities on the dark web. A village full of innocents made the mission especially precarious.

“Take a seat.” Darren’s voice boomed through the room.

Bennett grabbed a folding chair and opened it on the flanking side, facing Darren. Noah joined him and the rest of the men fanned out in a semicircle.