he Casa Bella Apartment Complex was new and was made of terracotta-colored stucco and Spanish tile roof. There looked to be around twenty units, and Vince pulled the truck beneath a covered parking spot. He led her to an apartment on the second story. It was a basic eight-hundred-square-foot, two-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath unit. The carpet was clean and it smelled of new paint, perfect for a guy who didn’t know how long he’d be living in the small town. “If I’d known,” she said as she moved into the kitchen and looked around at the mid-priced appliances, “I’d have brought you a housewarming plant.” She opened the refrigerator and set her Diet Coke next to a case of Lone Star and a six-pack of bottled water.

“I don’t want a plant.” He grabbed her hat and tossed it on top of a box sitting on the counter. Then he slid his hands to her waist. He pulled her back against his chest and kissed the side of her neck. “I didn’t work much at the Gas and Go today. So I shouldn’t stink.”

She smiled and tilted her head to one side to give him better access. “Does that line work for you?”

“Does it work for you?”

“Apparently.”

He unzipped the back of her dress and slipped it from her shoulders. “Your bra’s black.”

“It matches my panties.”

“I noticed.” The crepe dress fell to the floor, and he said against her bare shoulder, “I wanta fuck you with your boots on.” His fingers moved to the back of her bra. “Does that work for you?”

Oh yeah. She turned, and her bra joined her dress. “Yes, Vince.” She pulled his shirt over his head and ran her hands up and down his hard muscles. She kissed the side of his throat and her hand dived down the front of his pants. “You work for me,” she said, and wrapped her hand around his thick, corded erection. “You’re on time, on target, and never quit.” He sucked in a breath and she smiled against the warm skin of his neck. “I believe you called it your ‘full-circle readiness.’ I like a guy who is fully ready with a really nice, big, hard”—she slid her hand up and down his shaft and over the plump head—“body.” She bit the lobe of his ear and whispered, “Fuck me with my boots on, Vince.”

And he did. Right there against the refrigerator with her legs wrapped around his waist. It was fast and furious and so hot their skin slid and stuck and she felt burned up from the inside out.

“You’re good. So good,” he groaned as internal combustion raged through her and she gasped, unable to catch her breath. Her heart pounded and her whole world blew apart. When it was over, when every cell in her body reassembled, she felt different. Not in love different. More like not so alone different. She’d been surrounded by a crowd of people all day. Hardly alone, but with Vince she felt alive.

“Are you okay?” he asked against the side of her throat, his warm breath tickling her still sensitive skin.

“I am. Are you? You did all the work.”

“I like this kind of work.” He sucked in a breath and let it out. “Especially with you.”

For how much longer? she wondered for the first time since that first night he’d come to her house. She’d known he would fill her nights. She just hadn’t counted on him to fill up her life so completely. And it was scary as hell. And letting her mind wander down that scary path meant she cared. Caring wasn’t necessarily bad, but caring too much would really be bad. Something that at the moment she probably shouldn’t think about. She’d think about it later when she had to think about every other screwed-up thing in her life.

Afterward, she sat cross-legged on his back patio, drinking Lone Star. The hard concrete chilled her backside as she watched the setting sun.

“I booked a flight Monday afternoon for Seattle.”

Sadie wore her panties and his brown shirt that hit her just above the knees. “Why?”

“Now that I know I’m going to be here for a while yet, I need to get some of my stuff out of storage.” He sat beside her with his back against the wall. His bare feet rested on the bottom rung of the wrought-iron railing. He wore his cargo pants and nothing else. “I’m renting a van and driving back.” He took a drink. “I’ll stick around for a few days and see my sister and hang out with Conner.”

“Your nephew?”

“Yeah. And I’m sure I’ll have to see the son of a bitch.”

“Sam Leclaire?”

“Yep. God, I hate that guy. Especially now, since the rules of engagement have changed.”

She took a drink and squinted her gaze at the orange sun sliding below the trees. “Since he’s engaged to your sister, you mean?”

“No. Since the SOB bailed me out, I can’t hit him now.”

Sadie choked. “Out?” she sputtered. “Out of what?”

“Jail.” He looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. “I got into it with some guys at a bar last December.”

“Some? How many guys?”

“Probably ten.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “They thought they were big bad-ass bikers.”

“You fought ten bad-ass bikers?”

“They thought they were bad-ass.” He shook his head. “They weren’t.”

Still... “Ten?”

“Started with only two or three. The others just piled on until it was a full-on brawl and everyone was swinging at anything that moved.”

“What started the brawl?”

“A few guys wanted to run their mouths off and I wasn’t in the mood to listen.”

“What?” Her mouth fell open then snapped shut. “You got into a fight with bikers because they said something you didn’t like?” That was crazy. It didn’t even make sense. “Couldn’t you have just left?”

He looked at her out of the corners of his eyes like she was the crazy one. “I’m all for freedom of speech and shit. But with that freedom comes the responsibility to know what you’re talking about. And if you’re going to accuse the military of being uneducated rapists, then I have the freedom to shut you the fuck up. No. The obligation.”

“A biker said that?” She would have thought bikers would defend military guys.

“It was Seattle,” he said as if that explained it. “Washington is filled with some crazy liberals.”

Now might not be a good time to tell him she’d voted for Obama.

He reached into the side pocket of his pants and pulled out his cell phone. “You drained my energy and I’m starving. Chee-tos aren’t going to cut it.” He ordered a pizza, then helped Sadie to her feet. “If I keep eating junk and hanging out with you instead of working, I’m gonna get fat.”

She stood in front of him and put her hand on his flat belly. “I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

“I’m out of shape.”

“Compared to who?”

He moved into the apartment and she followed him to the kitchen. “Compared to when I trained every day.” He tossed her hat from the top of a box on the kitchen counter. “My sister sent me old photos and crap when she sent me my tax information for the past five years.” He reached inside the box and pulled out a handful of photos. He tossed several onto the counter, then handed her one.

She looked at the young man with the clearly defined chest muscles and wet shorts. “Goodness.” She hadn’t thought the guy could get any more buff. She looked from his wet pecs in the photo to his face. “You look so young.”

“I was twenty. That was taken the day I passed drown proofing.”

She was afraid to ask what that meant and picked up a photo of Vince on one knee in front of a bullet-ridden wall, a machine gun by his side and decked out in full camo and black scruffy beard. In another he was clean-shaven and doing push-ups with two scuba tanks on his back. “How much do those weigh?”

He turned his head and glanced at the pictures. “About eighty pounds. I didn’t mind pushing out reps. I hated ‘get wet and sandy.’ ”

They’d already established that he loved the water but hated the sand. She reached for a different photo of the younger version of Vince with his arms around a woman and a red-haired teenage girl. He wore a white sailor suit with a black neckerchief, white hat, and a huge smile.

“That’s my mom and sister at BUD/S graduation.” She could see the resemblance to his mother somewhat. To his sister, not at all. “What exactly does BUD/S mean?”

“Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL.”

She could also see the pride in his mother’s eyes. If her daddy had a son like Vince, he would have been proud. May have even given him three pats on the back. “Was your father there?”

“No. I’m sure he had something more important to do.”

From the little bit he’d said about his father, she wasn’t surprised by his answer. But what could be more important than your son graduating from SEALs training? “Like what?”

He shook his head. “Don’t know.”

“My father didn’t attend my high school graduation.” But at least she knew what had been more important. “He was branding cattle.” She thought of the events of the day and all the Clive stories. Good and not so good. The last time she’d seen him, they’d made more of a connection than they had in years. She got a glimpse into her father that she’d never seen before, but it had no way been the big emotional connection she’d always longed for. “Your father is still alive, maybe he’ll change.”

“I don’t care.” He looked into the box and pushed stuff around. “I don’t think people change unless they really want to. No one changes just because someone else wants it. And even if he does, it’s probably too late.”

She didn’t think that was true, but who was she to argue? She’d never made true peace with her father. Not the kind of big, satisfactory Hollywood ending that would have tied things up in a nice bow for her. If he’d lived another ten years, she probably never would have gotten that from him. She looked in the box and pulled out a blue helmet with “Haven” written in white on the front and “228” on the sides. “What’s this?”

“Second phase BUD/S helmet.” He took it from her hands and set it on her head. It fell to her brows. “It matches your eyes.”

She pushed it up. “It covers my eyes.”

He took out a gold medal from a velvet box and pinned it to the T-shirt. “You look really hot in my helmet and Trident.”

“Really?” She chuckled. “How many women have you let wear your helmet?”

“That particular helmet, none.” He lowered his mouth to the side of her throat and said against her skin, “You’re the first woman to touch my Trident.”

She didn’t know if that made her special or not, but his warm mouth against her skin did special things to her insides. “I don’t have anything for you to touch.”

“You have lots of things for me to touch.” He slid his mouth to just below her ear. “Soft things. Things that feel good.”

“You’ve already touched those things.”

“I want to touch them a lot more.” She tilted her head back, and his helmet fell onto the counter. “I like touching you,” he said between kisses across her jaw. “I love going deep.”

He loved going deep, but that didn’t mean he loved her. In the past, she might have gotten that twisted around in her head to mean that this emotionally unavailable man loved her. He didn’t, and she could never let herself have any deep feeling for him.

The doorbell rang and Vince lifted his head. His brows lowered, his eyes a little glassy. “Who could that be? No one but you knows where I live.”

“Pizza guy.”

“Oh yeah.” He blinked. “I forgot.”

Together they sat in the middle of Vince’s empty living room and chowed down on double pepperoni and drank Lone Star. Sadie was surprised by how much she ate, given her own house was filled with funeral casseroles.

“I don’t think pizza is energy food. I feel like a slug now,” she said as she leaned back on her elbows and stretched out her full stomach. “If I keep hanging out with you, I’m the one who’s going to get fat.” At the moment, there was no place she’d rather be. There was, however, someplace she needed to be. “I should probably get home.”

“I should probably show you my air mattress first.” Vince washed down his last bite with Lone Star and set the bottle on the empty box.

“Why?” She’d seen the air mattress and double sleeping bag when he’d shown her around the apartment. “Does it do something extra special that other mattresses don’t?”

“It will once I get you on it.”

“Are we gonna spoon nekkid?”

He nodded. “Nuts to butts.”

Her soft laugh turned into a yawn. “You’re so romantic.”

Something was wrong. Sadie sensed it before her lids fluttered open. For several disorienting seconds, she couldn’t remember where she was. She heard a thump and looked about the dark room. She was at Vince’s. In his sleeping bag on an air mattress. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but it was full dark now. She turned her head and looked across at the empty pillow next to her.

“Roger that!”

Sadie rose and grabbed Vince’s brown T-shirt off the floor. Another thud and she threaded her arms through the shirt and moved toward the hall. It sounded like he was fighting an intruder.

“Fuck it!”

“Vince!” She had a fleeting thought of grabbing something to help, but she knew there was nothing.

“Kill all those goat-herding fuckers!”

Light from the kitchen stove worked its way into the hall. One darker shadow moved within variegated light. “Vince?”

“Oh God.” He panted hard, like he’d been running for ten miles in the blazing heat. “Oh fuck!... Wilson.” He moved a few steps back. “Hang on, buddy... Shit. I’ll fix you up.”

Wilson? Who was Wilson?

He knelt; the dim light shone on his naked thigh and waist. Tension made the air thick. “Don’t do this, Pete.”

“Vince?”

His breathing got worse. More rapid. He coughed and gasped. Light caught on his hard arm, the veins bulging like he was lifting weights. He was huge, crouching in the narrow hall. “Stay with me.”

“Vince!” She didn’t touch him. Didn’t go any closer. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was afraid for him. Afraid he was going to hyperventilate or hurt himself. “Are you okay?” she asked, although he clearly wasn’t.

He jerked his head up and she thought he might have heard her. “The helo’s coming. Hang on.”

She turned on the bedroom light and knelt on one knee in the doorway. “Vince!” His wide eyes stared into hers, staring at something that only he could see. Her heart broke for him. Cracked all apart. She didn’t mean for it to happen. She had no control.

He jerked his head up and back like he was watching something in the sky. His mouth opened as he pulled air into his lungs, and his hands moved in front of his chest like he was grabbing at some invisible something.

He was usually big and powerful and in total control of everything around him. “Vince!” she yelled.

He blinked and turned his unseeing gaze toward her. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

His mouth snapped shut and his nostrils flared as he breathed through his nose. His brows lowered and he looked around him. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Where am I?”

Her heart heaved and cracked a little more. “In your apartment.”

The sound of his heavy breathing filled the hall and he returned his wide gaze to hers. “Sadie?”

“Yeah.” It felt like she was falling through the cracks in her heart. Right there in the hall of his unfurnished apartment. On the worst possible day of her life. She tried hard. Tried hard not to fall in love with Vince Haven, the most unavailable man on the planet, but she did.

“Jesus.”

Yeah. Jesus. She moved toward him and placed her hand on his shoulder. His skin was hot and dry. “Can I get you something?”

“No.” He swallowed hard and leaned his back against the wall behind him.

She rose anyway and moved through the living room to the small kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. She tried hard not to cry for him and for her, but her tears slid down her cheeks and she wiped them away on the hem of Vince’s T-shirt. When she returned, he still sat with his back against the wall, his forearms resting on his bent knees. His gaze staring up at the ceiling.

“Here.” She knelt beside him and unscrewed the bottle cap.

He reached for the water but his hand shook and he made a fist instead.

“Are you going to be okay?”

He licked his dry lips. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine. “Does that happen often?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

He obviously wasn’t up to talking about it. She kissed his hot, dry shoulder. “I love the way you smell,” she said. He didn’t say anything and she sat next to him and wrapped her arm around his bare waist. She loved him and it scared the hell out of her. “Who’s Wilson?”

He looked down at her, his brows drawn. “Where did you hear that name?”

“You called it out.”

He turned his gaze away. “Pete Wilson. He’s dead.”

“Was he a buddy?” She grabbed his fist and forced the plastic bottle into his hand.

“Yeah.” Water leaked out the corners of his mouth as he took several big gulps. “He was the finest officer I ever met.” He wiped the water away with the back of his hand. “The best man I’ve ever known.”

“How’d he die?”

“Killed in the Hindu Kush Mountains in central Afghanistan.”

Anger rolled off him and tension turned his muscles even harder. “What can I do to help you?” she asked. He’d been so good to her the past week. Just when she’d needed him, he’d been there. Driving her and walking beside her with his hand on the small of her back. Talking to her and sometimes not saying anything at all. Rescuing her even when she didn’t ask. Working his way into her heart when that was the last place he wanted to be.

“I don’t need help.” He stood, and her hand slid down his bare leg. “I’m not a little girl.”

She stood up and looked into his green gaze. “Neither am I, Vince.” Right before her eyes she watched him draw inward. She didn’t know where he went, other than he was gone. “Vince.” His name caught in her chest, clogged with emotion, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed herself against his hard, hot chest and rambled, “I’m sorry. It must be horrible. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Why?”

“Because you helped me when I needed you. Because I’m not lonely when you’re around. Because you rescue me even when I don’t ask you to.” She choked back her tears, and opened her mouth to tell him that he was big and strong and wonderful. That he was the best man she’d ever known. Instead something raw and new and really horrible tumbled out, “Because I love you.”

Awkward silence stretched between them until he finally said, “Thank you.”

Oh God. Had he just thanked her?

“Let’s get you home.”

His hands stayed at his sides, but his words felt like a physical push. She’d just told him she loved him and he reacted with a thank-you and an offer for a ride home.

“It’s late.”

She dressed quickly in her black dress and shoved her feet into her cowboy boots. Neither spoke much as she grabbed her hat and clutch purse on the way out the door. An uncomfortable silence filled the cab of the truck as Vince drove toward the JH. An uncomfortable silence that had never existed before. Not even the first time she’d seen him standing by the side of the road, the hood of his truck raised.

She didn’t ask if he would call or text. She didn’t ask when she would see him again. No more declarations of love. She had more dignity than that when the last thing he wanted was her love. He’d always been clear about that, and as she watched the taillights of his truck fade, she knew it was over.

What had she expected? He’d been upfront with what he wanted. It was what she’d wanted too, but somewhere within the past few weeks she’d started to have feelings for him. Started to feel something more than just lust.

She’d buried her father, fallen in love, and been dumped all in the same day.