Page 11

“Oh yeah, that will take another thirty seconds to read.” Turning it over, Dutch displayed several square ads and a single obituary photo. They shared a laugh.

Then Dutch’s eyes flicked to the coffees he held. If he had questions about what Denver was doing in the cafeteria, he didn’t ask.

Denver lifted his jaw in the cowboy nod. “I’ll be out of your way and let you get your coffee.”

Dutch’s stare rested on him for a beat. Then he said something completely unexpected considering they had only repaired fence and baled hay together. “It’s good to have you here.”

Touched, he said, “Thanks, man.” He slipped away as easily as he’d come.

On his way back to Rhae, he ran into Rodney—the guy who’d just finished his third tour. Since his arrival on the Black Heart, he didn’t talk to many people, and he hadn’t been at last night’s bonfire either.

He offered him a nod of greeting but Rodney just stared through him, eyes hollow and fixed on something far away.

Denver hesitated, wondering if he should do more for the guy, but in the end, he kept walking. Some ghosts never left a person. That he knew too well.

When he entered the room, he heard the hum of the shower running behind the closed bathroom door. He set the drinks down on the coffee table and was just straightening when he heard the tiniest whimper.

His breath hitched, and his feet were moving before he even registered the sound.

Navy was fussing in her crib, small hands flailing, her face bunched up in the beginning of a cry.

Heart pounding as hard as if he’d just escaped capture by the enemy, he approached the crib and looked down at her.

God, she was so small. Impossibly tiny. The gear he carried into combat weighed ten times as much as she did.

Her faint brows puckered and her mouth opened wide as if about to issue a siren scream.

His hands flexed at his sides, uncertainty slithering up his spine. But her whine turned into a cry, and instinct overtook hesitation.

He leaned down and scooped her up, hands gentle but firm. When he drew her against his chest, his chest burned. Navy fit perfectly against him, her head cradled in the crook of his arm.

Her tiny fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt.

“Christ,” he murmured around the lump lodged in his throat.

He stared at her, heart hammering his ribs. The world narrowed down to the warmth of her and the weight of her in his arms.

Jesus. He thought he’d been a man until now. But he wasn’t. Not even fucking close.

This changed everything. The need to protect, shelter, to be everything she would ever need slammed into him so fiercely that he staggered like he just took a bullet.

“Hi, Navy.” His voice cracked. And he was crying because he didn’t know how not to. “I’m your daddy.”

Navy blinked up at him, her mouth forming a perfect little O. But she didn’t scream. Her big gray eyes fixed on his face.

His chest tightened, a sensation that hurt. He’d never been afraid of dying. Not in combat, not in the dead of night on a mission. But the idea of not being around for her? Of missing first steps, first words, scraped knees and pigtails?

It gutted him. He wanted—needed—to be here for every single one of them.

And he would die to protect her.

The shower cut off, and a wisp of steam trickled from beneath the crack in the bathroom door. He heard the rustle of a towel and Rhae humming softly.

Denver didn’t move or breathe, just held Navy closer. The baby stared at him as if she understood everything going through his mind.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Rhae peeked out. She was wrapped in a towel and damp strands of hair clung to her cheek. When she spotted him—and what he was holding—she froze.

“Denver?”

He swiped a hand over the tears running down his face and turned to face her fully. “She was fussing.” His voice was gravelly from emotion. “I didn’t want her to cry.”

Her eyes brightened and tears swam in the depths as she approached them. She put a hand on his arm, warm from her shower. “It’s good. Really good.”

His chest heaved as he returned his attention to Navy.

Rhae’s throat clicked as she swallowed. “How did you know? Did Willow tell you?”

He gave a rough shake of his head. “No. I looked up the birth certificate. Did the math. Why…why didn’t you name me as the father?” Hurt made his jaw flex.

Rhae wrapped her arms around herself. “How could I put you on the birth certificate? On paper, you’re dead.”

Silence fell between them, thick and heavy. Navy started to squirm in his arms, and he shifted her over his shoulder, her little cheek resting on him in a way that made another tear leak from the corner of his eye.

Finally, he nodded. “That is a problem.”

Rhae issued a sorrowful snort.

“You knew you were carrying my child when we were together last time.” He didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but Rhae still winced.

She looked away. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I was going to tell you in the morning. You always said you were going to leave…then you always stayed.”

I never could walk away from you.

Her eyes shimmered. “But I got up, and you were gone. You were dead on paper, off the grid. Even if I could have found your ghost ops team, I wouldn’t have wrecked your life by telling you that you had a child. Your team and the job were everything to you.”

He exhaled slowly, the weight of her words settling over him. He couldn’t be angry. She had shouldered all of it on her own, and the realization clawed at him with guilt. “I get it. I do.”

At that moment, Navy stiffened in his hold, and an explosion burst out of the little girl.

He jerked and almost dropped her like a grenade, while Rhae doubled over, laughing her head off.

He looked at the baby in horror. “That came from her?”

“Who else?”

“She’s so tiny.”

“But she’s mighty.” Rhae’s eyes leaked with amusement and probably some emotion too. “I guess it’s time for your first daddy duties—changing a poopy diaper.”

He stared at Rhae for a long beat. Maybe for the first time in his life, he was a little out of his element.

“I don’t know where you keep the supplies. I’ve never changed a diaper before.”

She chuckled and reached for Navy. “I’m joking. I’ll handle this one.”

He followed her to the dresser that had a pad on the top. She laid the baby down and Navy kicked her legs and flapped her arms in excitement while Rhae worked the row of snaps on her pajamas.

“Well, she looks lighter.” His comment made Rhae laugh again.

He watched her quickly change her daughter— their daughter. He cradled the baby’s head in his palm. “I want you to know,” he whispered, “I’m in this.”

Navy’s gray eyes stared up at him unblinking. When he met Rhae’s gaze, tears made her eyes glisten. “Oh, Denver…”

His heart squeezed as he felt its space grow too small to fit the size it had become.

Looking on, he took in everything as Rhae stripped off the baby’s pajamas and dressed her in a white layer that snapped at the bottom.

He marveled at how she squeezed Navy’s chubby arms and legs into a pair of pants and a matching top.

Across the room, her abandoned watch chimed.

She scooped up the baby and held her out to Denver. “I’m running late. I have to get ready.”

She rushed into the bathroom and shut the door, leaving him alone with Navy.

He bounced the little girl against him, testing her weight. Her little hand landed on his cheek in a surprising smack. A laugh burst out of him.

“I guess I deserve that for waiting so long to meet you. Navy…” The name fit her so well. Rhae had chosen perfectly.

A knock at the door pulled his focus from the small world he was rapidly sinking into. He shifted her in his arms and went to answer it.

A tall guy in a worn baseball cap stood there, hands shoved in his pockets. “Just checkin’ to see if Rhae needs any help with Navy this morning.”

Denver’s spine straightened. “I’ve got Navy.” His voice left no room for argument.

The guy backed off with a duck of his head in acknowledgement, and Denver closed the door, hand resting protectively on the wood for a moment longer.

Navy had her fist in her mouth, wet with drool.

“I’m here for you, Navy. You and your momma.”

The words came out quiet, but it was an oath. A claiming of his child and her mother.