Page 45 of Keeping a Warrior

“Yep. Rattling around in a big old house. My dad’s retired now but still very involved in the military flight community. My mom has her own friends and does her own thing. Separate but together, more like friends than spouses.” She broke off, bracing herself for the pity, the judgment.

There was no trace of either on Rhys’s face. “Well, whatever works for them, right?”

Devon relaxed. “Exactly. They might be a little unconventional, but I know they love me. And they’re very supportive of my career.” She hesitated. “Is your family supportive?”

“Fuck that,” Rhys scoffed. “They probably don’t even know where I am, nor do they care.”

The words I’m sorry sprang automatically to her lips, but like her, she knew Rhys wouldn’t want or appreciate them.

Their boots were still touching, so Devon moved hers just the tiniest bit closer to his. His face smoothed out as he looked at her, lips curving. “You know what? You are way, way too easy to talk to.”

“So are you.” Devon idly tapped their feet together. “I’ve never in my life told anyone about that period incident. Who would understand?”

“Someone who had to sit next to someone else’s pile of crap all day, that’s who.”

They both made gagging faces, then sat gazing at each other, smiling. Right then Aaron appeared between the two pallets, leaning his shoulder against one and crossing his arms over his chest. “And what’s going on here?”

As Devon’s and Rhys’s eyes met, they burst into laughter.

“Nothing you’d want to hear about,” Rhys assured him. “Trust me.”

“Well, whatever.” Aaron jerked his head toward a group of guys sitting cross-legged around what looked like an ammo crate. “Gettin’ together a poker game. You in?”

“Hell, yeah.” Rhys pushed to his feet and looked down at Devon. “Coming?”

“Nah. Think I’ll just kick back for a while.”

Rhys hesitated, as if he was torn between sticking around and going to play poker, at last deciding on the game and leaving her with a wave.

She waved back. She was starting to like him way too much. Stop it.

Stop what? argued a little voice in her head. He’s attractive, smart, a total badass...yet he left a snack for an old stuffed bunny. What’s not to like?

Devon jumped to her feet to wander around the cavernous plane cabin, which was big enough to carry a tied-down helicopter. Across the way, Rhys threw his head back in laughter at something Aaron said.

It’s not so much that I like him, it’s that he’ll never like me back. Not in that way. Because men are like goddamn parking spaces, remember?

On her second circuit, she caught a glimpse of Shane sprawled out on one of the webbed seats lining the wall, staring intently at something on the opposite side. When she followed his gaze, she smiled.

Matt had slung a hammock between two different pallets and was sound asleep in it, his body swaying gently with the movement of the plane. On impulse Devon stopped next to Shane.

“Mind some company?”

“Not at all.”

Shane looked up at her, and all the breath involuntarily left Devon’s lungs in a whoosh. This, without a doubt, had to be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. With his sparkling blue eyes, high cheekbones and strong jaw, he could’ve been a model—the kind whose face gazed down upon ordinary mortals from some fancy-ass billboard overlooking Times Square.

“Have a seat,” he said warmly. “I’ve actually been meaning to have a chat with you.”

“Yeah?” Devon lowered herself down warily. “Why?”

“Just curious. I was telling my sister about you the other day and she ordered me to find out more. ‘A woman SEAL? You gotta get the dirt, Shane!’”

Devon couldn’t help but giggle at his exaggeratedly high-pitched tone. “Why is she so interested?”

The smirk on Shane’s face died away to be replaced by something that looked a lot like grief. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “My niece, her biological dad was a SEAL. I’m one. My—” He broke off.

My ex-boyfriend is one.