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Eloise

A sharp cry pierced the night—a dog’s cry. My heart sank. Scanning the empty street, I searched for the source. Another anguished yelp echoed from the alley, where the full moon cast long shadows. Without thinking, I took off running, adrenaline fueling my steps.

As I got closer, I saw him—a man kicking a helpless dog. Fury surged through me.

“Hey! Stop that!” I screamed, shoving him hard. He stumbled back, caught off guard. Seizing the moment, I bent down and scooped up the dog, who was much heavier than expected. My arms strained, but before I could get far, a rough hand yanked my hair, jerking me backward. Pain exploded down my spine, and I let out a startled yelp—one that almost matched the dog’s.

The dog let out a guttural growl and turned on his abuser, but before I could appreciate the poetic justice of the moment, a fist slammed into my back. I shrieked, my knees buckling—until another voice sliced through the chaos.

“Let. Her. Go.”

The deep, commanding tone froze the man in place. I turned, blinking through the dim alley light, and there he was—broad, imposing, and furious. He seemed familiar somehow. A hand shot out, clamping around the man’s throat with effortless precision.

“Run,” my rescuer barked at me.

Not needing to be told twice, I clutched the dog and bolted, my breath ragged as I raced down the sidewalk. Footsteps thundered behind me. Whipping around, I prepared to fight, but it wasn’t the attacker.

It was him.

My stomach did an Olympic-level somersault.

“Is that your boyfriend?” he asked, voice laced with dry amusement.

“What? No! I don’t even know him,” I stammered. “He was hurting the dog, and I just…” My voice trailed off as realization struck. Oh, hell. I knew this man. He was one of my brother’s friends. A former Navy SEAL. I knew there was something familiar about him. A member of their elite security team. And not just any friend—the one I’d had a hopeless, embarrassing, undying crush on since I was sixteen.

“I gotta go,” I blurted, avoiding his gaze.

His eyebrow lifted. “What about the dog?”

I glanced down at the scruffy, trembling thing in my arms. “I…” I cleared my throat. “I’ll take care of him.”

Ignoring his skeptical look, I bent to hoist the dog again. My arms burned, but I powered through, determined to escape with at least a shred of dignity.

Naturally, he followed.

“Let me carry him,” he offered, voice low and firm. “And what the hell are you doing out here this early? It’s still dark. Don’t you know how dangerous it is?”

I ignored him, focusing on moving forward. Except… the dog was so heavy. My legs wobbled, and before I could even pretend I had this under control, I had to stop.

“Rover,” I murmured, stroking the dog’s matted fur.

He gave me another look. “You already named him?”

“I always name them,” I muttered. “He’s coming home with me until I find him a real home.”

When I straightened, I met his sharp gaze.

“Ellie, what the hell are you doing running in the middle of the night? Does Nate know you do this?”

I bristled. “I’m fine. And no , you don’t have to tell Nate. He’s my brother, not my keeper. I always wake up early, so I run before it gets light.” I crossed my arms. “What are you doing out here? Or do I even want to know? Were you just leaving your girlfriend’s house? I thought all of you lived up on Fraiser mountain.”

His lips twitched. “No, I wasn’t at my girlfriend’s, and yes I do live on Fraiser mountain.”

Something about his tone made me suspicious. “You’re lying.”

“I’m on a job.”

I huffed. “Then you should get back to work.”

“I will. After I take you home.” He crouched, lifting Rover effortlessly. “You’re lucky I happened to be passing by. That guy could’ve killed you.”

“I wouldn’t have let him,” I shot back. “I would’ve shot him first.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Are you telling me you’re carrying a gun?”

“I have a license,” I said defensively.

“Does your family know?”

I scowled. “I’m not a child.”

That was when I made a tactical error. I stomped my foot.

Instant regret.

His smirk was immediate, his amusement barely concealed. Fantastic. I’d just reduced myself to an overgrown toddler throwing a tantrum.

“I’m twenty-eight,” I added, desperate to reclaim some dignity. “I’m a grown woman .”

His gaze swept over me, lingering just a second too long. My heart did something stupid and fluttery. No, I am not still crushing on this hot SEAL.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess you are.”

Oh. Oh .

Heat rushed up my neck. I was suddenly painfully aware of my old leggings, the faded college sweatshirt, and the fact that I’d probably sweated through half my deodorant running for my life. Meanwhile, he was effortlessly carrying Rover toward a massive truck.

“Where are you going?” I called, jogging after him.

“To my truck.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why do all of you drive these action-movie-sized trucks?”

He chuckled. “So we can see over the tops of cars when chasing someone.”

“Or,” I countered, “so you can look hot driving your muscle truck through town.”

His lips twitched. “You think I look hot?”

Abort. Abort.

My face practically burst into flames. “I’m sure you’ve been told that before.”

His grin widened. “Too bad you’re Nate’s little sister.”

I stopped in my tracks.

“I’m twenty-eight ,” I said slowly, deliberately. “And being Nate’s sister has nothing to do with who I am or what I do.”

He watched me for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then, without a word, he opened the truck door and placed Rover inside.

With a resigned sigh, I climbed into the passenger seat.

One thing was clear—this night was far from over. And neither was my ridiculous, completely inconvenient crush.