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D-Day leaned forward with a grin. “Man’s got that far-off look. Like he just heard a wolf howl under a full moon and it said her name.”

Joker snorted, taking a pull from his drink. “Careful, boys. You poke the bear, he bites.”

“I ain’t scared,” D-Day muttered. “He’s got that same look Z had in Rio, right before he tackled Everly into the pool.”

“Exactly,” Blitz said, smug. “That’s the face of a man undone by a woman who could kill him three different ways with a paperclip.”

Bear finally looked up, slow and deliberate. “You about done?”

“Nope,” Buck said, smiling wide. “But we’re pacing ourselves. She’s got eyes like a thunderstorm. Am I right, Locklear?”

Bear’s voice came quiet, like a knife slipping between ribs. “I’m about to start exposing some secrets and guilty pleasures.”

The laughter faltered just a beat. Blitz blinked. “Wait, what?”

Bear leaned back, posture lazy, eyes half-lidded like none of this mattered. “Yeah. You think you know me. You think you’ve got me pegged. But I bet I can guess every one of your favorite juice flavors.”

Zorro arched a brow. “You trying out for party tricks now, Bear?”

Bear’s voice cut through the low hum of laughter, slow and steady, tone deceptively mild.

Buck sat up like a kid at recess. “Okay. Do me first.”

Bear didn’t even blink. “AriZona Cowboy Cocktail. Mucho Mango. You keep three in the minifridge and one in your truck.”

Maritza, sprawled in a folding chair, choked on her drink. “Oh my God?—”

Buck squinted at Bear like he was reading his soul. “There’s a rope burn in your future, man.”

Joker, deadpan, glanced at Pippa. “I’m afraid.”

Pippa, without missing a beat, sipped her hibiscus tea. “Be brave, darling.”

Bear pointed, solemn as a judge. “LT? LMNT brand. Tactical Tangerine. You log your sodium intake, don’t you?”

Joker’s brow furrowed. “Goddammit.”

Professor leaned back. “Let me guess. Mine involves a historical figure.”

Bear didn’t hesitate. “Einstein-brand cold-pressed pomegranate–blackberry fusion. Sold only in Germany. You bulk order it during sleep cycles you call ‘creative storms.’”

D-Day cracked his knuckles. “Hit me.”

Bear shrugged. “WWII-themed pouch brand. Cherry-Grenade. Tagline is literally ‘Make Every Sip a Battle Cry.’”

The man let out a pleased grunt. “Hell yes.”

Zorro grinned and raised a brow. “Okay, hit me with it.”

Bear didn’t pause. “Horchata. Cinnamon-forward. Limited-run. You drink it in secret because you say it’s cultural heritage, but really? It’s just dessert.”

The table broke into laughter. Gator leaned in, voice thick with Cajun charm. “Try me, cher .”

Bear smiled faintly, eyes still half-lidded, voice as dry as dust. “Swamp Berry Rush. Alligator-themed packaging. One squeeze and it hits you like a Cajun exorcism.”

Izzy didn’t even glance up from peeling her orange. “He drinks it with his plush gator. Name’s Elvis.”

Buck snorted into his beer. “Aww. Does he cuddle it when he takes his nappies?”

Blitz’s voice came immediately from somewhere behind a cooler. “Does Elvis sing lullabies or just hum the national anthem through his one eye?”

Gator, unfazed, drawled with the same proud dignity he used for breaching charges. “He’s armed. He’s loyal. He’s seen some shit.”

Zorro grinned, tipping his bottle toward the fire pit. “He probably outranks half the team.”

Joker muttered into his whiskey, “I’m losing control of my command.”

Izzy leaned forward, the wicked gleam in her eyes belying the soft braid down her back. “It’s programmable.”

Gator groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Babe…that’s classified shit.”

Izzy just smiled, all sugar and threat. “He rotates between ‘Jambalaya on the Bayou’ and ‘The National Anthem.’”

The team lost it.

Even Flint let out a huff that might’ve been a dog laugh.

Bear waited for the chaos to settle. Then he turned his head, calm as dusk, and looked straight at Blitz.

“Hmm. Tough,” Bear murmured. “But I’m going out on a limb here. You rotate between Coca-Cola’s Touchdown Twisty, Field Goal Fizz, Kickoff Cooler, and Zero Sugar Conversion.”

There was a beat of silence.

Bree burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Bear…you’re scary.”

Blitz raised both hands, mock-defensive. “Okay, but I only drink the Conversion on game days. That’s sacred.”

Buck wheezed. “Man’s got a playoff beverage rotation. Lord help us.”

Zorro leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “We need to start putting Bear on recon for emotional patterns. He’ll take down a whole psychological ops division with nothing but a juice box lineup and a vibe.”

Zorro laughed, shaking his head. “Call me fucking impressed, but if you can do the wives…I’ll be very impressed.”

Bear finally cracked a real smile. Before anyone could fire back, Bear tilted his head slightly, eyes tracking each woman in turn like he was calling targets on a range.

“Maritza? Guava nectar. The thick kind. You eat it half-frozen with a spoon when Buck’s deployed.

Julia, organic watermelon-mint, glass bottle, no sugar.

You forget one in the freezer every single time.

Izzy…electrolyte lemon-lime. Room temp. You hate cold drinks unless they burn.

Pippa. Sparkling elderflower cordial in a recycled bottle with gold foil and a label that says bespoke.

”His eyes ticked toward Helen, and he allowed the faintest smirk.

“Helen, Peach Sweet Tea. First sip gets a yeehaw . The rest, you sing ‘Home on the Range . ’”

D-Day groaned. Blitz snorted.

“Bree, cold-brew hibiscus concentrate. The kind that’s as pink as a scandalous thong and wakes the devil.” Then, quietest of all, “Everly. Coconut water with cinnamon and a single clove. You say it’s for hydration. But really? It’s control. You never finish it.”

Silence stretched for a beat too long.

Buck finally muttered, “Well shut my fucking mouth.”

Zorro tipped his bottle with a grin. “This is the best day of my life.” He leaned back, eyes flicking to the horizon where the sun spilled fire across the land Bear called home. This wasn’t Rio. It wasn’t war. It wasn’t recovery.

It was…brotherhood. Simpler. Quieter. The kind of space where men could name each other by their juice boxes and still carry a thousand secrets behind their scars.

He was right where he wanted to be.”

Zorro took Everly’s hand, fingers entwined, and they walked slowly toward the tent.

“I love these team get-togethers,” she said, voice soft in the dusk. “They’re so fun.”

He nodded. “They are. I never get tired of spending time with them.”

She hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder. Bear stood a little apart from the rest, arms loose at his sides, head tilted toward the stars, Flint at his feet like a silent sentinel.

“Bear seems…quiet. Sad, maybe. Do you think he’s okay?”

Zorro’s eyes flicked to her. “You can’t help yourself, can you, Doc?”

She gave him a faint smile. “No. I just…I want him to be happy. Maybe because we’re so happy.”

Zorro exhaled, long and low. “It’s not his health. It’s not the war.”

Everly’s brows lifted. “It’s the spook they were teasing him about…Bailee Thunderhawk?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She gave a small, knowing nod. “Well, she’s beautiful. Tough. Fearless. I like her.”

“So do we,” Zorro said. “But Bear’s…Bear. Stoic. Private. Apparently convinced that falling for someone you work with is a bad idea.”

“Oh, you mean like us? Joker and Pippa? Gator and Izzy? Buck and Maritza?”

Zorro laughed. “All right, point made.”

She turned to face him fully, eyes warm but serious. “Watch out for him. He looks tough, but he’s got a soft heart. Promise me.”

“I promise.” He leaned in and kissed her, slow and warm, lips brushing hers with the easy certainty of a man who never wanted to stop.

Later, Zorro lay stretched on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other slung across Everly’s bare back, her body still tingling from their lovemaking. The tent around them glowed with the dim light of a nearby lantern, and the warmth of shared breath and laughter lingered like a balm.

“Thank God Buck roping me like a heifer after I lost my towel mid-sprint didn’t damage Frank and the boys.”

Everly blinked, then sat up slowly, narrowing her eyes. “Wait. Buck? Roping? You were exposed to rough men and didn’t text me a single juicy detail?”

Zorro gave a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah, baby. Rough men. They were mean to me. I was suffering. Bleeding emotionally, because you ghosted me.”

She collapsed on his chest, giggling into his skin. “I deserve the full story.”

So he told her.

All of it.

By the time he got to the part where his towel gave up mid-turn and D-Day announced, “Full moon on deck, and gentlemen, that sucker is getting waxed,” Everly was wheezing with laughter.

“It’s a miracle Frank and the boys are even intact,” she gasped. “This is what happens,” she added, “when punchy Navy SEALs are left to their own devices. Where was Joker?”

Zorro ran his hand gently down her hair. “Busy. Yelling about someone getting hogtied…again.”

Her laugh cracked like lightning. “This has happened before?”

He gave her a pitying look. “Oh, querida …not only has it happened before. It’s going to happen again. I’m just waiting for the day it’s Joker.”

She buried her face against his chest, breathless. “I can just imagine it. Some poor BOPE guy coming home, still recovering…”

Zorro sighed dramatically, then grinned. “You asked for this.”

She snuggled closer. “Don’t stop now.”

He slipped into character, voice lowering into a spot-on Brazilian husband impression.

“Honey, I’m home,” Eduardo called as he kicked off his boots by the door.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” his wife called from the kitchen. “How was training?”

He dropped his bag with a heavy sigh, rolled his neck like it still carried trauma. “Brutal. But one of the Americans saved the day. Full-tilt sprint across the compound. Buck naked. I mean towel gone, cheeks to the wind, hands scrambling for dignity.”

Everly was already shaking with silent laughter.

Zorro continued. “Then his teammate, massive dude, comes charging after him with a rope. Like an actual cowboy lasso. Took him down mid-sprint. Naked man hit the dirt like a sack of flour. Game over.”

Everly was wheezing. “She didn’t believe him, did she?”

Zorro switched to her voice. “You made that up.”

Back to Eduardo. “Nope.” He took a solemn sip of water. “Yes…he saved Franco and the chicos .”

Everly dissolved completely against his chest in helpless laughter.

She finally lifted her head, grinning. “ Os Americanos .”

“ Os Americanos ,” Zorro agreed solemnly, and took a long drink.

“I asked for chaos,” she murmured. “I stayed for Frank and the boys.”

That was when Zorro stilled.

Her heart stuttered as he rolled to his side, eyes dark and steady.

Softly, quietly, in the hush of their little tent, he said, “How about a lifetime of chaos with me and the boys…? Marry me.”

Everly froze.

He didn’t move. Didn’t rush. Just laid it out like a battlefield truth.

“I’ve known since Niamey,” he said. “I wanted you as my wife. You stitched me up that day, and you ruined me for anyone else. I’ve never stopped wanting that with you.”

Before she could answer, a soft shuffle sounded at the tent flap.

They turned their heads in unison.

Every single member of SEAL Team Alpha, and their wives, were crowded shoulder to shoulder outside the tent, faces jammed into the opening like emotionally stunted deer in camo.

“Seriously?” Zorro groaned. “You vultures.” He turned back to her, ignoring the peanut gallery.

“You patched us up in Niger,” he said gently.

“You kissed me in the Philippines. You saved us in Rio. You’re already one of us, Doc.

” He pulled the ring from around his dog tags and held it out.

“Might as well make it official in front of this motley crew.”

D-Day stage-whispered, “Give her the ring, you idiot.”

Buck said, “Jesus. Do we have to do everything for you?”

Blitz added, “Don’t say no and break our hearts.”

Zorro never looked away from her. “Don’t make me beg, mi vida . But I will.”

Everly blinked at him, heart wide open. “I accept. I’ll marry you.” She looked toward the tent flap. “Apparently I’m marrying all of them, too.”

Zorro gave a soft laugh. “I fell in love with you in front of an audience. Not surprised my proposal came with spectators.”

Everly raised a brow. “Where I draw the line is when we conceive our children.”

“Fair.”

“I’m keeping a loaded shotgun next to the bed.”

Blitz muttered, “I don’t know whether to get misty-eyed or leave the country.”

Zorro deadpanned, “Do we need a warning sign?”

Everly grinning. “Bold type. Keep Out. Conception in Progress. ”

He slipped the ring onto her finger. Applause broke loose, followed by whistles and laughter and a few exaggerated sobs from the peanut gallery.

Later, they dragged their sleeping bags outside. The stars flung themselves across the sky like salt spilled across black silk. They lay wrapped together beneath it, her laughter caught in the curve of his chest.

Zorro watched her with quiet awe. His voice, when it came, was ragged.

“I love you, querida . Through blood, through SEAL Team insanity, through juice boxes and UDT shorts, through hogties and Frank and the boys. No other woman could’ve made me this happy.”

Everly cupped his face. Her voice trembled. “I love you, Mateo, through all that, and especially, this , skin to skin, heart to heart, body to body through a lifetime of you and me. Forever.”

Thank you for reading Zorro . I hope Mateo and Everly’s story stayed with you long after the final page, their fire, their healing, and the chaos that only SEAL Team Alpha could deliver.

From warzones to weddings, from juice boxes to jungle births, Zorro showed us that sometimes the fiercest warriors carry the gentlest hearts.

Sometimes love arrives not with calm, but with a battle cry.

Next up? Boomer. SEAL Team Tier 1, Book 7.

The team’s hunting ghost ships off the Portuguese coast. But the real danger is the one they can’t outrun… each other.

When Tier 1 operator Carter “Boomer” Finley is sent to Lisbon to track fentanyl-laced ghost vessels carrying weaponized narcotics, he expects the mission to be deadly, not personal.

But sharing ops with the UK’s elite SBS and running into the sharp, stunning MAOC liaison, whomhe was forced to ghost due to duty, turns up the heat in ways he didn’t plan for.

Detective Taylor Hoffman is all business. Until Boomer shows up. Again. With mass casualties looming and international tensions rising, they’ll have to trust each other more than they ever dared. In a city built on secrets and saltwater, one misstep could drown them all.