Page 1 of Luck Be Mine (The Defenders #3)

? Seven Weeks Since Injury ?

Travis Hunter, U.S. Navy Lieutenant, SEAL Team Three, had days like everyone else where he mentally beat himself up for things gone wrong. At this moment, he climbed the stairs to his San Diego apartment with his new wife, Army Captain Cait Michaels Hunter, in his arms.

Fifteen steps.

Each one forced a worry his new marriage was headed for another crisis. They’d already survived more than one disaster since Afghanistan. Without all their ducks in a row, the reality of their quick marriage was about to be tested.

His apartment.

He had a bed which Cait needed desperately. The long day of travel had left her shaky, in horrible pain, yet soldiering on.

His place had power and water. Maybe. Payments were on auto-withdrawal, but best laid plans sometimes went awry.

The coffee pot worked. There was no coffee or food in the fridge or cupboard. The used kitchen table had one chair. It was all he needed when he cleaned his gun.

No sofa.

His gun safe and foot lockers decorated the bedroom.

Because he was never here. He stored things here. Slept here when necessary.

But he didn’t want his new wife thinking he would toss her aside like some broken part of his non-existent personal life.

Consider this: thirty-five years old and he finally had a personal life.

That stopped him cold. He was a SEAL. He could adapt to anything. But this? A life with someone who mattered? It was new ground.

But life could go wrong. Fast.

He wanted Cait as part of his future, and he would never accept how close he’d come to losing her.

Anger. Guilt. Fear. All scraped his guts raw, knocking him off balance.

“Would you stop pausing and get up these stairs, please?” She rubbed her face against his shoulder and hissed. “My face still hurts on that side.”

“Must have been the brick wall you hit,” he muttered. Hunt closed down any idea of tracking the group that executed the suicide bombing. He’d chosen to stick with Cait. She needed him.

Cait laughed softly. “Was that supposed to be humor, Hunter?”

“Yeah. Bad humor.”

She didn’t answer him. Testy pain spoke in the hiss from her lips.

Hunt tightened his arms around her, trying to transmit how precious she was to him without stumbling over the emotional words jammed in his throat.

He took the remaining steps in gentle, smooth succession.

Awkwardly balancing her, he pulled his keys from his pocket and juggled to get the key in the lock.

“Don’t expect much, honey. I haven’t been here in four months. ”

“Hunt, my household goods are in storage. My car is at my sister’s house. I have no home. This will be fine. Please, babe – I need a bed. I’m over this…”

She tried hard not to let tears fall in front of him. He faced tough shit all the time, but Cait crying hit him hard.

He kissed her forehead and opened the door.

“I’ll get you there, honey. Give me a sec.

” He pocketed his keys and shifted through the doorway, bride in his arms – which was not as romantic as it should have been.

He flipped the switch, and the ceiling light in his small living area came on.

The empty room, with its stretch of beige carpet, felt hollow.

But Cait sighed, soft and sure. “Home.”

“Yes, we are.” He maneuvered into the bedroom and flipped the light switch there, too. The apartment smelled fresh, so the cleaning lady had been here. But the bed’s bare blue, name-brand queen mattress looked bereft in the small room. “I’ll get the sheets. Let me set you in the chair.”

Her lips settled against the throbbing pulse in his neck. “Thank you.” Her whisper washed over him with a familiar spark.

The brown leather recliner sat lonely in the corner.

He’d bought the chair on the spur of the moment and never regularly sat in it.

The blinds were drawn over the window leaving the afternoon light on the opposite side.

He never noticed how dark the room could be.

His life needed to undergo some serious adjustment.

He didn’t want this for Cait. He eased her onto the chair’s padded seat, wincing when she groaned.

Thank God the sheets were clean. So were the blankets. The cleaning lady had earned a bonus. He made quick work of making the bed.

She slumped back into the chair and inspected the room. Her lips quirked and broken laughter floated in the quiet. Her blue eyes, minutes before drowning in misery, danced with amusement.

As much as he loved hearing her giggle, Hunt assessed to see what he’d missed. There wasn’t anything laughter worthy. “Cait?”

“Is that a gun safe?” She pointed across the bed.

“Yeah.” Confused, he dropped to his haunches in front of her. “What did I miss?”

Cait rubbed her face. “Cave. Weapons cache. Bedroom. Gun Safe. The similarities are hilarious.” She giggled again, then gave a sharp gasp. “Darn ribs.”

Hunt grinned and swore in equal measures. That fucking mountain mission should have been a humanitarian-only action but turned into something violently different. Not to mention the part where she nearly froze to death. He grimaced. “Similarities to be sure. Not one I did on purpose, though.”

“Of course not.” Her smile lingered, and the tension leaked out of him.

He rose to his feet and pulled back the covers.

Cait used her toes to slip out of her shoes. Her new phone chimed. She fished it from her pocket. “Jackie. Checking on us.”

Jackie Shay was Cait’s sister by choice, and she couldn’t have been a better one. Geez, he now had not only a wife, but a sister, too. One of these days the edge would be off his disbelief.

Hunt smoothed the white blankets on the bed, bemused. Only his team checked on him. “She’s making sure I got you here.”

“No, she can track my phone. She knew we were here.” He turned his head to hide his expression. Security issues reared. “I only allow tracking with her and her with me.” As if she read his mind.

Not something he wanted to argue about because he wouldn’t mind being able to track her either.

He couldn’t allow Cait to do the same thing with him, but she’d understand.

Besides, Jackie had become trusted family for him, too.

“It’s fine. If you’d let me, I’ll add you to my phone so I can check on you, too. ”

She nodded. “But if I go to Texas to visit Jackie sometime while you’re gone, you’ll know why. Cause that’s the only place I’d go unless my commander gets demanding. Thanks for replacing my broken phone, by the way.”

“You’re welcome. What are you going to do about your Commander?”

“I’m going to let the disability leave days expire first.”

“Still planning to get out?”

“Yes. The conversation with him didn’t change the situation.

But I’ll do as he asks and take some time to think about it.

I’m not changing my mind. We can’t work our marriage with two commands, and I’m not going to be in any shape to take on the kind of missions they’ll need me to.

It’s going to be months, not days, before I’m solid again.

” Her bland verbalization tugged at the anger he kept locked tight inside. Damn fucking terrorists.

She struggled with her gray, zipped hoodie, and he stepped forward to help her. “Let me go to the truck and get our bags.”

Cait shook her head. “Help me get undressed. I need to lay down.” The humor had left her eyes and all that remained was deep suffering. “We are alone here, right? Just us?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Get me naked, and not in a good way, dammit.”

“You want a T-shirt?”

“You have one?”

Hunt didn’t answer. He lifted the lid of the black footlocker near the closet door and pulled out a gray Navy shirt. “I think this will work.”

Cait took a deep, careful breath. “Yes. Can I have it?”

“Have?” He smiled at her. “Are we bargaining?”

“You aren’t getting much of a bargain.”

Hunt threw the shirt on the bed and helped her shed the sling keeping her shoulder and arm immobile.

He unbuttoned the white shirt and shimmied her out of the black yoga pants, white undershirt, and black panties.

If she hadn’t had red marks, surgical scars, and fading scratches and bruises reminding him too starkly of her injuries, he would have stripped and joined her.

But she moved like every bit of her hurt. He struggled against helplessness.

“Don’t look.” Her pale face only made the misery in her blue eyes stand out.

“You are beautiful, and I’m so lucky you’re here with me. Don’t you forget it.” He eased his gray Navy T-shirt over her head, slowly shifted her broken arm and damaged shoulder into the sleeve, and put the sling back in place. “Need the bathroom or any pain meds?”

“Yes, on the first, and then some Tylenol and water. I am not starting the pain medication route. I’ll have to learn to deal another way.”

“I’ll get you those right now.” If he missed his guess, she’d hold on to use the facilities but would be asleep before the Tylenol.

He would reverse the order to get the meds in her.

He hustled to the kitchen for Tylenol from his stash and a glass of water.

She swallowed the meds with no protest, then he swept her into his arms.

She was a tough cookie and didn’t ask for a thing – which made him want to give her everything.

The small bathroom space was a constrained construction of white on white, but with the two of them in the space, it was ridiculously compact.

They might need a new apartment. He opened his mouth to mention the idea.

Her eyes went shut. He shoved the item to a remember for later note in his head.

The list was longer than traffic in the exit lane for the naval base.

“Come on, honey. Sleep time for you.” He carried her to the bed and laid her gently on the sheets. “I’m going to bring our bags in from the truck. I’ll be right here, though.”

“Mmm, okay.” She burrowed the non-sore side of her face into the pillow, her body giving into the need for comfort and sleep.