Page 47 of Loving a Warrior

On the way to the hospital that night, he’d been racked with guilt over leaving his boat crew, and layered with his terror over Lex, it’d been hard to hold back the tears. Bernson had noticed. He’d reached over and put his hand on Shane’s forearm, murmuring, “It’s okay to cry, son. I’m not going to think less of you for it. None of us are Superman.”

The quiet understanding helped Shane regain control. As much as the media liked to portray SEALs as sexy, alpha superheroes, in reality so many of them were simply exhausted husbands and fathers—or brothers—trying to straddle two different worlds and make them both work.

With a snuffle, Matt burrowed back into him. Shane tucked his face in his neck, breathing deeply of the scent of the ocean and sleep-warmed skin.

“Ah, Soup. What’re we gonna do now?”

No answer, just a quiet snore. Despite their rocky start, Matt had shown himself to be honorable, owning his shit and doing his best to fix his mistakes. He was understanding, with a gruff sort of kindness that amused Shane as much as he was drawn to it. Above all, he didn’t play games.

And he felt so right in Shane’s arms. So right.

* * *

“Holy shit, it’s the zombie apocalypse.”

Matt stared out the windshield at the men lurching toward the medical building, some barely able to walk and having to be helped by others.

Watching him closely, Shane waited until he’d pulled himself painfully from the car before saying, “When should I be back to pick you up?”

“Oh, I forgot.” Matt propped his elbows on the passenger side window frame. “Bernson is taking us out to lunch afterward and I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

Shane held out his hand. “Gimme your phone.” When he did, Shane entered his number in Matt’s contacts and gave it back. “Text me. Problem solved.”

“You’d better not send me dick pics.” Matt pushed off the truck and hobbled away, his knees still swollen.

Shane sighed as he watched him struggle to walk. It was hard to imagine he’d be well by Monday, but training started up again at 0500 on the dot, whether he could walk or not. Hell Week was over and it was time to move on.

He ran a couple of errands while he waited for Matt, including a quick pass through a fast food drive-thru. As he was pulling back out on the road, his phone rang. Instead of Matt calling to pick him up, it was Alexis.

“Hey, baby girl. How’re you feeling?” Shane stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth, washing them down with some cold Coke.

“A little better. Mom’s driving me crazy already, though.”

“Of course she is. You scared us all to death, Lex.” Shane knew she hadn’t called to chit-chat, and sure enough, it wasn’t long until she got to the point.

“Will you do me a favor? If I give you Derek’s number, will you maybe invite him out once in a while, like to a Padres game or something?”

“What? Lex, I have to start First Phase all over again in a couple of weeks. I’m not gonna have time to—”

“I know, but if you can, will you try? He doesn’t have a lot of friends—”

Shane remembered Derek rushing into the hospital, a lanky, nice-looking guy with shoulder-length black hair, bright green eyes, and a shy smile. He’d seemed devoted to Alexis, not wanting to leave her side for a minute.

He probably doesn’t have a lot of friends because he’s burned so many bridges.

Shane didn’t say that, but Alexis had confided in him about Derek’s struggle with addiction, how he’d stolen from his family’s business, taken advantage of the people who cared about him. She insisted he was trying to turn things around, but Shane didn’t know him, didn’t really want to get to know him. What was the point?

Maybe she sees something in him nobody else does.

Shane gritted his teeth as Matt’s voice echoed in his mind, and God, if he hadn’t been pissed at him for saying that. He’d wanted someone to agree with him that Derek was a dick, not be the voice of fucking reason. Although that fight had led to one of the hottest encounters of Shane’s life…

“Text me his number,” he grunted into the phone, smiling a little as Alexis caught her breath. “But no promises, okay?”

“Shane, he’s a great guy. He’s caring and sweet, gentle, so good with Libby. He’s a hard worker, loves staying home with his family—”

“I’m not gonna marry the dude,” he interrupted drily. “I don’t need his online dating profile.”

“Sorry. I just…”