Page 35 of Trigger Discipline

He hadn’t wanted to allow Tommy and Blake to sit watch at all. His argument was flimsy at best—even a civilian knewwhen something was wrong. And chances were, there was nothing they could do anyway. The building would be blown to pieces before any of them were even awake.

“We’re not just pillow princesses sitting along for the ride!” he’d snapped at Gabriel.

Phin and Judd exchanged a look. “I don’t know. I could see Gabriel liking himself a pillow prince.”

“Nah,” Phin chuckled, catching Blake’s eye. “He likes ‘em feisty.”

Gabriel silenced them by throwing a water bottle at Phin’s head. It bounced off and Judd caught it, forgetting about his arm until he doubled over in pain, groaning. Gabriel looked far too pleased with himself.

In the end, they’d gotten what they wanted. Tommy took the first shift, insisting he needed to relax before sleeping anyway, and Blake took the last. He’d been awake for a little over an hour, chin resting on his knee as he watched the men around him sleep. Part of him thought he should wake someone to go man the telegraph machine, but sleep seemed more important.

They looked different asleep. He’d finally gotten a look at the soldiers without their gear. The sheer amount was staggering. It didn’t look like much when they were wearing it, but in a big pile next to them it sure did. Close to seventy pounds of things like MREs, water, an individual first aid kit, poncho, sleeping bag, radios, and maps. And that wasn’t counting the thick looking night vision goggles strapped to their bulbous helmets or their weaponry. So far, he knew each man had a long gun of some kind, a handgun, and grenades. Phin had more than the others. He wasn’t sure if that was a preference or part of his job description.

The moment their watch was over, the soldiers picked a spot and slept. Instantly. Faster than even Blake was capable of. They slept silent and still, too. No snoring or shifting to get comfortable. If it weren’t for their relaxed faces and softbreathing, it would be easy to think they were awake or meditating.

Judd had lost a lot of blood. Blake had replaced it with IV fluids, but just because he topped off the tank didn’t mean Judd would be operating at his best. He needed blood. And not the diluted kind. It would take a while for his body to produce more, and until then, he’d be fatigued. And that was if he wasn’t pushing himself, which he was. Gabriel had taken his watch shift, electing not to wake the soldier. He was going to be livid when he woke up.

Blake shifted his head so he could look at the commander. His hair was a mess, but not nearly as offensive as Judd’s mullet—a horrifying surprise the moment his helmet came off.

Dirt was smudged across Gabriel’s face and neck. With his eyes closed, he looked more serious. When they were open, the hazel irises were sparkling. Even when he was exhausted. There was something comforting in those eyes. Protective.

When Blake first met Gabriel, he didn’t come off as the intense, serious commander. But it was there. In the subtle looks he gave his men, the nods of praise, and finger twitches that often served as his orders. Gabriel didn’t need to scream and yell or puff out his chest. There was no fragile masculinity teetering on his shoulders. He had nothing to prove. Gabriel had the respect and devotion of the men under him, and he didn’t need to test that.

Blake spent his life in fire stations. He knew what it was like to be choking in a pool of testosterone. The young guys always had a chip on their shoulders. They had to prove themselves—to the veterans and to themselves. Drink the most rancid ‘brotein’ shakes and lift the heaviest weights. Alpha male bullshit that Blake often found himself pulled into, a slave to his instincts.

It was better now that he was older. He’d done the dickmeasuring contests, won some, and lost some. Which is why he wasn’t fazed when Phin tried. He was the biggest among them, but his confidence was brittle. There were demons behind his gray eyes. He could see the big man coming a mile away.

But then, Blake could see most things. Except for Gabriel. He hadn’t seen him or his backyard confession coming. It was probably the situation, but he couldn’t remember ever having a conversation like that with anyone. Not with his parents, not with friends, and certainly not with romantic partners.

Women loved the cold, menacing act until they realized it wasn’t an act. Blake wasn’t going to miraculously let them in after a few dates.

I can change him,is cute in theory. In practice, it’s an exercise in futility.

But Gabriel was different.Why?Hell, if Blake knew. He told himself that when this was all over, he would probably never see the soldier again. But the thing was, he couldn’t picture that. He couldn’t picture never seeing Gabriel again. Even Judd and Phin. It was as if he was living in a perfect sphere where time stood still.

Logically, he knew it would end. All things ended. But now, in this warm room with the gentle sounds of breathing and Tommy’s toes digging into his leg…it felt like forever was possible.

Tommy shifted, his nose wrinkling as he batted something invisible off his face. Almost as if he could sense the gloom surrounding Blake and wanted to knock it away. He found himself smiling at the young man, snorting softly. He hoped it was a nice dream. What did vegans even dream about, anyway? A nice block of tofu? A crunchy carrot?

When he turned, he caught the sparkle of hazel eyes. Gabriel was watching him, awake but unmoving. In the dawn glow they were almost molten brass. Blake wondered if he was watching him because he didn’t trust him to stay awake.

Or if he was thinking about Blake’s eyes, too.

They held each other’s gaze. He felt caught. The urge to run and the desire to see every flickering color in Gabriel’s eyes change as the sun shifted were at war. Belatedly, he realized this was another one of those moments—an aberration that felt like forever. One movement, a particularly harsh exhale, would shatter it. Send them tumbling back into whatever rift they had just cleared. Time would continue, the world would keep spinning.

Just one finger. That’s all he had to move.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

His heart crashed against his chest. Skin buzzing with the tension he didn’t notice. Not when he was just beginning to see the speckles ofgreenin Gabriel’s eyes, or the way his dusky lashes quivered above pupils bright with…something? Something Blake couldn’t define but knew was mirrored in his own eyes.

And shouldn’t that be terrifying? Something his brain couldn’t quantify, and his body seemed to know all too well. Terrifying in the limbo of the unexpected. A letter with good or bad news, unopened and staring at you. The mystery prize at the bottom of a cereal box.

Good and bad, wrapped up in one undefinable, magnetic pair of hazel eyes under helmet hair so bad, it was almost funny.

Tommy snuffled. Phin huffed. Judd was eerily still. A plane soared overhead, the noise tickling Blake’s ear. It was louder than the erratic beating of the blood in his ears.

Gabriel’s eyes widened at the same moment Blake realized.