Page 139 of Zorro

Zorro tipped his bottle with a grin. “This is the best day of my life.” He leaned back, eyes flicking to the horizon where the sun spilled fire across the land Bear called home. This wasn’t Rio. It wasn’t war. It wasn’t recovery.

It was…brotherhood. Simpler. Quieter. The kind of space where men could name each other by their juice boxes and still carry a thousand secrets behind their scars.

He was right where he wanted to be.”

Zorro took Everly’s hand, fingers entwined, and they walked slowly toward the tent.

“I love these team get-togethers,” she said, voice soft in the dusk. “They’re so fun.”

He nodded. “They are. I never get tired of spending time with them.”

She hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder. Bear stood a little apart from the rest, arms loose at his sides, head tilted toward the stars, Flint at his feet like a silent sentinel.

“Bear seems…quiet. Sad, maybe. Do you think he’s okay?”

Zorro’s eyes flicked to her. “You can’t help yourself, can you, Doc?”

She gave him a faint smile. “No. I just…I want him to be happy. Maybe because we’re so happy.”

Zorro exhaled, long and low. “It’s not his health. It’s not the war.”

Everly’s brows lifted. “It’s the spook they were teasing him about…Bailee Thunderhawk?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She gave a small, knowing nod. “Well, she’s beautiful. Tough. Fearless. I like her.”

“So do we,” Zorro said. “But Bear’s…Bear. Stoic. Private. Apparently convinced that falling for someone you work with is a bad idea.”

“Oh, you mean like us? Joker and Pippa? Gator and Izzy? Buck and Maritza?”

Zorro laughed. “All right, point made.”

She turned to face him fully, eyes warm but serious. “Watch out for him. He looks tough, but he’s got a soft heart. Promise me.”

“I promise.” He leaned in and kissed her, slow and warm, lips brushing hers with the easy certainty of a man who never wanted to stop.

Later, Zorro lay stretched on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other slung across Everly’s bare back, her body still tingling from their lovemaking. The tent around them glowed with the dim light of a nearby lantern, and the warmth of shared breath and laughter lingered like a balm.

“Thank God Buck roping me like a heifer after I lost my towel mid-sprint didn’t damage Frank and the boys.”

Everly blinked, then sat up slowly, narrowing her eyes. “Wait. Buck? Roping? You were exposed to rough men and didn’t text me a single juicy detail?”

Zorro gave a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah, baby. Rough men. They were mean to me. I was suffering. Bleeding emotionally, because you ghosted me.”

She collapsed on his chest, giggling into his skin. “I deserve the full story.”

So he told her.

All of it.

By the time he got to the part where his towel gave up mid-turn and D-Day announced, “Full moon on deck, and gentlemen, that sucker is getting waxed,” Everly was wheezing with laughter.

“It’s a miracle Frank and the boys are even intact,” she gasped. “This is what happens,” she added, “when punchy Navy SEALs are left to their own devices. Where was Joker?”

Zorro ran his hand gently down her hair. “Busy. Yelling about someone getting hogtied…again.”

Her laugh cracked like lightning. “This has happened before?”