Page 58 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

Heat crept up the back of his neck. He rubbed at it, avoiding Sophie’s eyes. “Thought everyone liked apple pie.”

Sophie laughed and patted his cheek, before turning toward the door. “You always did know how to make an entrance, Hudson. Come in. It’s freezing.”

He followed her into the hall, and the rich smell of pot roast hit him. He stood in the hallway for a second, breathed it in, and told himself to get it together.

Ty appeared from the direction of the kitchen. Over six feet and granite-edged. The familiar scars on his hands caught the hall light when he reached out. Hudson shook one of them and felt approximately sixteen years old.

“Good to see you, Hudson. It’s been too long.”

“Likewise, sir.”

“Sophie’s been cooking all day.” Ty gestured for him to follow, the words somehow containing both a warning and a welcome.

Sophie fussed and took his jacket. “Ryder and Ivy send their apologies. Ryder’s on a call and Ellie needed an early night.” She guided him deeper into the warmth and noise of the house.

Sarah.

She was in the kitchen doorway, a glass of water in one hand, saying something to Caleb that cut off the moment he walked in. She was still in her uniform and must have come straight from work.

She smiled. The room narrowed, the noise dropping out, the distance between them collapsing to something entirely too small for the amount of history sitting in it.

Caleb saved him—stepping away from Sarah to hug him and introduce him to his wife, Grace, and their toddler, Josie.

Josie wobbled around the corner of the coffee table with the enthusiasm of someone who had recently discovered how amazing legs were. She bumped against his shin, grabbed a fistful of his cargo pants before looking up at him with dark eyes. He bent down to say hello, but she let go of his leg and buried her face between her mom’s legs.

Grace scooped Josie up and offered him her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard stories about you from Caleb.”

“All perfectly legal.” Caleb waggled his eyebrows. “How long are you planning on staying?”

Casual. Perfectly pitched.

“As long as the case needs.”

Caleb nodded slowly, as if he’d expected that answer and wasn’t entirely convinced by it. “Right. The case.”

Wyatt came out of the kitchen with two beers and stopped when he saw Hudson. He crossed the room and handed him a bottle. “Good to see you again, brother.”

“Likewise.”

“This is Jen,” Wyatt said, turning toward the dark-haired woman who had followed him out of the kitchen. He put his arm around her, and she leaned into him a little, her head against his shoulder.

“Hi.” She offered him her hand. “Good to finally meet you.” She looked at him with frank appraisal. “I’ve heard lots about you.”

Oh. He glanced between Wyatt and Sarah. Good or bad?

Sophie rescued him, shooing them toward the dining room. “Dinner’s ready, everyone come sit.”

Everyone crowded around the table. Sophie sat at one end, Ty at the other, with Caleb and Grace on one side and Wyatt and Jen on the other. Josie occupied the high chair between her parents. Sarah had somehow ended up directly across from him.

It made eating surprisingly difficult.

The conversation moved on—overlapping and loud, threads picked up, dropped and resumed halfway through another story.

Josie dropped peas on the floor one by one. Caleb stole a roasted potato from Wyatt. Sophie handed around a plate stacked with buttery rolls. For a few dangerous seconds it felt less like visiting and more like slipping back into a life he’d once known by heart.

“How’s the investigation going? Any progress?” Caleb asked in a lull.

Grace paused to cut something on Josie’s plate, and Wyatt leaned back in his chair, eyes alert.