Page 32 of Huck Frasier (Seals on Fraiser Mountain #5)

Marle

I found Fraiser exactly where I knew he’d be: standing at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables like the big, brawny man had just discovered domestic life. He smelled like pine needles, fresh air, and that danger I pretended not to crave.

I folded my arms under my chest, doing my best to look taller and more intimidating than I felt — which was impossible, considering I was barefoot and seven months pregnant.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He didn’t look up. “Want some carrots?”

I ignored the offer. “You can’t go.”

The knife paused mid-slice. He lifted his head slowly, blue eyes locking on mine with that maddening calmness he used when I was about to become unreasonable.

“Go where?”

“On your next mission. Wherever it is, I don’t care if the president himself needs rescuing. You. Are. Not. Going.”

He set the knife down, wiped his hands on a dish towel, and leaned against the counter — all muscle, calm authority, and that little grin that made me forget what I was yelling about. But not today. Not when I’d been plotting this speech all morning.

“Marley, sweetheart—”

“No. Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Huck Frasier. We are getting married in one month. One. And if we wait any longer, the baby is going to be here before we say I do . Do you want our baby to be the ring bearer at her parents’ wedding instead?”

His brows shot up. I could see the argument building behind his eyes. The whole ‘I’ve done this a thousand times, I’ll be back before dinner’ routine. I wasn’t having it.

“I promise—”

I cut him off with a sharp poke to his chest. “Don’t. Promise. You promised last time and you came home with stitches and a black eye.”

He caught my hand, laced our fingers together, and tugged me closer until I was pressed to the counter with nowhere to escape. His voice dropped, low and sinful. “You’re cute when you boss me around.”

“Don’t distract me. This is serious.”

He kissed my forehead, my nose, the corner of my mouth. “I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

“I already miss you.”

His smile faltered, just enough to make my throat tighten. He slipped his other hand to my belly, cupping my tummy like he was holding our baby, like it grounded him. “I need to do this, Marley. But I’ll be home in plenty of time. For the wedding. For you. For the baby.”

“You’d better be. Or I’m naming her after my father.”

He barked a laugh, the deep kind that made his chest rumble against mine. “Deal.”

“Fraiser—”

He silenced me the way he always did — with a kiss that made me forget how to breathe, let alone argue. By the time he pulled back, I was half tempted to hand him his tactical bag myself, just so I could drag him to bed first.

I have all of the vegetables cut up, so you won’t need to use the sharp knives,” he bent his head and kissed me. “I’m the luckiest man in the world for having you. don’t lift heavy objects while I’m gone. “I love you and our baby so much.”

I let him go even though every stubborn bone in my body screamed not to.

This time, though… if he didn’t come back when he said he would?

I’d hunt him down myself.