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She blinked, slowly. Her eyes were glassy, rimmed with emotion she hadn’t voiced yet.

“I mean it,” he added. “Right now, we’re in our three-foot world. Yours and mine. That’s it. That’s all we see. We’re goddamned going to focus until we’re fucking blind, okay?”

Everly swallowed hard.

“You know the concept?” he asked. “SEAL doctrine. When the chaos goes loud, when the shit hits and everything around you turns into smoke and screams and hell, you narrow it down. Three feet. That’s all that exists.

Your weapon. Your next breath. Your teammate’s shoulder.

Nothing beyond it. You survive like that. ”

She nodded once. Barely.

He looked at her, eyes dark, steady. “But it’s dangerous, Everly. For guys like me, tunneling too deep gets you killed. You lose your angles. You lose your six. You lose yourself.”

Her breath shivered.

“I’ve seen it happen. Brilliant operators. Gone. Not from a bullet. From tunnel vision.”

His hand covered hers and he slipped his arm under her body and dragged her against him. God, he wanted her all over again.

“So I get it now,” he said. “What you did. After Rob died. You didn’t freeze. You tunneled. Your three-foot world shrank to whatever patient was bleeding in front of you. Whatever kid you could drag back from the edge. You locked the rest out so you wouldn’t feel the holes.”

Tears slid sideways across her temple. Silent.

“You’re right. It works,” he whispered. “Until it doesn’t.”

Her hand moved, just slightly. Reached for his wrist. Anchored there.

He swallowed. “You lived inside that trauma. Day after day. Country after country. In places that smell like blood and diesel and shit. I’ve been there too. I know what it does to a body. To a soul.”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

So he gave her his.

“You’re not weak,” he said, voice breaking. “You were just surviving. The best way you could. If I had lost one of my brothers in that blast? If I thought someone had let it happen? I’d have hated every fucking operator in uniform too.”

Her breath hitched, and her grip on his wrist tightened.

He shifted, just enough to slide his arm beneath her head. Drew her against his chest, into his arms. His voice stayed close to her ear, a murmur built for battlefields and confessions.

“But you’re here now. You’re back. I’m right here in your three-foot world, Everly. I am not letting go.”

She sobbed once, small, broken.

He kissed her temple.

“I’m not afraid of your grief,” he whispered. “I’ve carried worse. Just don’t ask me to walk away from you now. I couldn’t. Even if I wanted to.”

She didn’t respond with words.

She just burrowed closer, tears soaking his skin, her breath stuttering against the curve of his throat.

“Did you know?”

He frowned at the mortification in her voice, and it hurt him to hear it. “Know what?”

“That Rob lied to me, lured me into that blast. He said it was the military’s fault when all along, he was warned to evacuate. His ego won out over his life…and mine.”

“That fucking bastard,” Zorro said, his anger like a blast of fire through his blood. “I’d kill him if he wasn’t already dead.”

“He hurt me, Mateo. So badly before we went to Afghanistan,” she whispered.

“How. Tell me how, and I’ll fix it. I’ll heal it. I’ll give you my truth.” Her breath hitched and she cried harder. He pulled her body tighter against him. “Give me all your pain. I can handle it.”

“He took the contract that was meant for me. He was always undermining me, every step, and I swallowed it. I thought I was being the perfect wife.” Her bitterness burned him. “He said I was too good for anyone to love.”

Zorro stiffened. “He said what to you? Goddammit .”

“It had a nasty meaning. He meant I was such a know-it-all bitch, no one would ever love me.”

“Fuck. Sounds like he was the know-it-all bitch, and he got caught in his own fucking ego-fest.”

A huff of laughter broke against his chest, and she wrapped her legs around his, burrowing her face against his skin, her body convulsing. “This isn’t supposed to be funny, but you are so damn angry for me and so freaking charming.”

“I swear he was a dickless wonder. He never knew what he had.”

She exhaled softly, lifting her head enough so that she could kiss him. “Everything that happened brought me here…to you. I’m thankful to know the truth about him. We never have to speak about him again. I would never come to you with him anywhere in my mind or my heart. I want you to know that.”

“Don’t make me cry again,” he whispered.

“Oh, Mateo.”

His stomach chose that moment to growl.

She looked up at him. “I’m starving, too.”

He laughed softly. “I’m so smooth and understanding, and then my stomach grumbles. How romantic.”

“It’s honest.” She turned to look at the clock. “And late. We’re probably out of luck.”

“No fucking way. I can talk my way into a nunnery. Getting us some chow—piece of cake.”

“You’d be a dangerous menace in a nunnery, making all those women question God.”

“You do mention his name often when I’m giving you head.”

“Zorro!”

He shrugged and rolled them out of bed. She stumbled, but he braced his leg against the nightstand and righted her. “Let’s go.” He bent down and chucked his shirt at her.

She didn’t catch it. It bounced off her folded arms. “Where am I supposed to go with no damn bottoms? I came here for one thing, mister and you gave it in spades.”

“Ah, wanted for my heavy muscles, clever mouth, and dancing dick. Figures.”

She shoved him onto the bed. “I don’t relish running back across the hall. With my luck, D-Day or Mr. Red-eyes will catch me. Joker will want to know where my ice bucket is.”

He clutched his stomach and laughed. “Terminator at his best. You’re right. I have some shorts with a drawstring. They should work.”

She bent down and pulled the shirt over her head. He walked to his duffel and started to pull out clothes. Once he found the shorts he wanted, he turned around.

She was standing there holding his UDT shorts by her index finger. She was looking at them like they were alien goo. “What are these and why are they wet?”

He came back to her still naked. “My UDT shorts. I swam in them.”

“UDT shorts?”

“They’re issued to frogmen. Started way back in World War II with the Underwater Demolition Team. We wear them when training. I was up at the pool. Bear had them on, too.”

“You…and Bear wore these in public?”

“Babe, they’re legendary.”

“They’re indecent.”

“What?” He frowned. “No.”

“Put them on.” She tossed them to him.

“But they’re clammy and damp.”

“What kind of tough SEAL are you?” Her eyes were twinkling. “First you’re a crybaby, now you're squeamish about a tiny scrap of soggy material.”

“Ooh, that’s punching below the belt,” he said with a grin, loving her humor. “Frank and the boys aren’t too thrilled either.”

“Frank and the boys?” she echoed, deadpan. “Your dick has a support staff?” She shook her head. “I’m sure there’s a story there and I can’t wait to hear it, but snap to it.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll give you a spanking.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he said, “I’ve already been hogtied by a cowboy in a towel.”

Her jaw dropped open as he took the shorts and shimmied into them.

“You must be really good in bed because I’m starting to get excited about your outrageous comments.

” She stared at him in shock, then regained her composure.

“Again, a story I need to hear, but right now…” She whirled her finger, making him turn in a circle, her expression caught between admiration and irritation. “I was right. They’re indecent.”

“Babe, they’re Navy issued gear.”

“I don’t care if the president sewed them. They’re dangerous in the wrong…on the wrong…hips.” She strode over, slipping her hand over his dick. “Your package is on display, and your ass…don’t get me started.”

He grunted. “Did you just call my junk a package?”

“Yes and any red-blooded woman would want to unwrap it.”

He doubled over. She slapped his ass. “You and Bear wore these?”

“I think he got two marriage proposals and one provocative one.”

“How many proposals did you get?”

He gave her a wicked grin. “I’m taking the fifth…babe.”