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“That or I’m preparing myself to meet the man responsible for putting me into a hospital rehab center for six months of my life.”

“You mean after Bethan saved your life. From the big, bad wolf, while you were as helpless as a baby. Just to clarify.”

Jonas did not actually give Templeton the finger, because he was above such things. Also, it would only entertain his friend. Still, the sentiment seemed to hang in the air between them.

Templeton grinned. “I’ve known you a long time, Jonas. In and out of too many versions of hell to count. And I think you and I both know that you’re not apprehensive about getting a chance to express your feelings on that subject to Dominic Carter. You can’t wait.”

“I’m only good at one thing,” Jonas replied, meeting his friend’s gaze steadily. Even though he didn’t want to. Maybe especially because he didn’t want to. “And I’m really, really good at it.”

He didn’t say that thing was war. He didn’t have to, not to Templeton, who already knew.

“I know you think that,” his friend said quietly. “But I’m one of the few people who’s seen you fall apart. In case you forgot.”

“I never forget.”

Not that he particularly wanted to remember the cold winter he’d spent in the Alaskan interior. He, Templeton, and Isaac had walked away from their last official mission when no one else did. Then they’d walked away from the service. After they’d left the usual Washington, D.C., circus behind, Isaac and Templeton had decided they were going to head out of there and figure out civilian life.

Jonas hadn’t bothered. He was no civilian. He’d barely been a member of society before he’d become what the navy had made him, and all his years playing dangerous Delta Force games had nailed that down tight.

But what did a man made to make war do in peacetime? What did a loaded weapon with an inconvenient pulse do with himself when he had nowhere to aim?

He’d spent a dark season in a crude cabin with nothing but his guns and his thoughts, puzzling that one out. He knew that Isaac and Templeton believed that he’d been in despair, that he’d been a mess. He hadn’t been. He’d been in a hole, sure, but he’d been deciding if it was worth climbing his way out.

“That wasn’t me falling apart,” he said now. “There’s a reason we lock up certain members of society. It’s for the public good. I was quarantining myself until I figured out where I fell on that.”

Templeton rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a lecture on the benefits of the prison system. You think I don’t know that particular dance? You think I don’t have my own dark nights of the soul? Of course it’s easier to pretend you’re some kind of machine. Everybody gets that.”

“If you get it, then I don’t understand why we’re having this conversation.”

“You get to be human,” Templeton said, so softly thatthere was no reason Jonas should have felt the other man’s voice go through him as if he’d shouted. Or punctuated that sentence with his fists. “You are flesh and blood and mortal, no matter what you do to pretend otherwise. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I appreciate the biology lesson.”

Templeton shook his head. “Your parents sucked. Your childhood was a war zone. Believe me, I relate. The world isn’t going to end if you let yourself be happy now, brother. I promise.”

And whatever Jonas might have said to that, Templeton cut off the possibility. He shut his eyes again, shoved his headphones into his ears, and gave every appearance of falling immediately back into a deep slumber.

Leaving Jonas even more unsettled than before.

It wasn’t that there was too much noise inside him suddenly. He was good at blocking out noise. He didn’t allow distractions.

But Bethan was more insidious than that. All he could think about was pink. Pastels and pillows. That cottage of hers, soft and cozy, both unexpected and entirely her.

She was like sunlight, reaching into parts of him that had never seen the light of day. He didn’t know if he resented it or thirsted for it, but whatever it was, he felt poisoned. Altered.

Except this was the kind of poison he didn’t think was going to kill him.

Maybe he only wished it would.

He was something like relieved when they landed in a private airfield outside New York City. Everyone was awake and ready to set about the process of deplaning, splitting up into their two separate teams, and taking possession of the waiting vehicles.

Isaac was leading the warehouse team. He and Jonas, leader of the Upstate New York team, conferred for a moment while everyone else threw their bags into the back oftheir respective vehicles, checked their weapons, and handled their adrenaline.

“I have a bad feeling about all of this,” Isaac said quietly. “You?”

“No more than usual.” Jonas kept his gaze on Isaac. He did not look around to see what Bethan was doing. He did not need that, because he shouldn’t need anything. “This guy already took a shot at messing with our heads. I’m not sure what else he has to go on.”

“We’ll see,” Isaac muttered. He jerked his chin at Jonas, and then they all headed out.