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BLAKE DIDN’T WANT to admit to himself how many times he’d checked his phone after he left Dale’s and got to Alpha Dog. At least a dozen times, maybe more, before he left the program at nine thirty that night. It wasn’t until he was on his way to Mick’s Bar to meet up with his friends that his phone beeped.

Blake pressed a little harder on the gas, refusing to reach for his phone until he stopped driving, but it was hard not to pull over right then. Best, after punching him in the gut for telling Bryce he’d called her fat, had asked him who he was waiting on earlier, and Blake had lied, of course. All of his friends were a bunch of nosy bastards, and if he told them about Hannah, they’d start teasing him, even if nothing was going on.

Everyone at Alpha Dog knew he wasn’t dating, that he had no plans to, but lately, he had to admit he was thinking about it more. With Best and his other two friends, Sergeant Dean Sparks and Sergeant Oliver Martinez, in serious relationships, he’d been spending more and more time in his crappy apartment alone. At least dating would get him out more often and leave less time to drink alone. He hated to admit how much he missed his friends; they used to hang out after work at Mick’s several times a week, talking shit and drinking beer. Now he was lucky if they met up a couple times a month. Yeah, he saw them at work, but it wasn’t the same.

The problem was, every time he thought about signing up for online dating or even asking one of his friends to set him up, he thought of Jenny. Jenny, his beautiful high school sweetheart, then his wife. They’d married when they were barely into their twenties, yet they’d grown together instead of apart. She’d been there for him after his parents had died in a fatal car accident and stuck around while he’d done three tours during their first five years of marriage.

When he’d finally come home and put in for a job that would keep him stateside, he’d lost her.

Lost. It was a shitty word to use when someone died. People had repeated over and over at his parents’ funeral how sorry they were for his loss and again at Jenny’s. It was such a casual term to convey a moment that had forever changed his life and destroyed his happiness.

Taken. That was a better way to describe his wife being killed in the middle of their Base Exchange. A Texas military base should have been the safest place for her to be while he was at home, waiting for his next assignment. He’d been drinking beer with his friends and watching football while she’d run out to get something to make them all for dinner.

He’d always expected that someday, she’d get the knock on the door and the notification of his death.

Not the other way around.

Blake picked up speed on the freeway, his grip tightening on the wheel until his fingers throbbed, giving him something to focus on instead of his dead wife. For two years he’d been trying to run away from his misery. He’d moved across the country, away from everything that reminded him of her and his past, and still she haunted him.

It was why he was still hesitant about dating. He hadn’t even been out with another woman in the two years since he lost her, let alone slept with someone else. Jenny was the only woman he’d ever been with; it was enough to make any man gun-shy about hooking up with someone new.

For some reason, Hannah’s angry face flashed through his mind. Since the first time they’d met, he’d seen her shy side, seen her smile and laugh, seen her act happy or shocked by his teasing.

But today, when she’d appeared ready to throttle him, he’d felt a shock of something he hadn’t even recognized at first until he’d walked out of Dale’s.

Interest.

Hannah’s fury had stirred up something inside him. He liked Hannah, had always noticed she was pretty—he wasn’t blind, after all.

But he’d never been tempted to cup her face in his hands and kiss her until she was smiling again.

The image was why he’d booked it out of there so fast, not bothering to wait for her to come around and say bye.

He was still shocked he’d left his number for her. He’d been joking about the recommendations, and then she’d been so eager, that spark in her eyes, that rush of excitement at possibly sharing something she was passionate about with him.

He hadn’t been able to resist.

Blake pulled into the parking lot, and as soon as he turned off his car, he picked up his phone to see if it was her.

Where are you, dick munch? I got a bone to pick with you.

Damn it, the text was from Bryce.

He didn’t even bother texting her back, just climbed out of the car and headed into the bar. The loud blast of classic rock vibrated the floor as he made his way through the crowd and down the stairs to where his friends usually hung. The first thing he saw when he reached the bottom was Best and Sparks playing pool, while Martinez and Slater hung by the table watching.

And then Bryce was in his way, punching him in the gut, her blue eyes flashing in the dim bar lights.

“Bastard. Best said you were full of shit.”

It really hadn’t hurt, just caught him by surprise. Standing back up with a laugh, he said, “You’re really going to believe Best?”

“Hell yeah I am, and you’re lucky I am such a benevolent and forgiving person.”

“Sure I am.” Patting her shoulder a couple of times, he added, “I’m sorry I said that about your ass.”

“Ha, you better be, especially since I was nice enough to invite someone to meet you.”

Blake’s blood ran cold as he searched the bar for Bryce’s special guest. He noticed a pretty Asian girl talking to Slater Vincent, one of the other trainers at Alpha Dog, and growled.