She stood up a little straighter and squared her shoulders. “Big girls don’t cry, Caldwell.”

Truth be told, he didn’t think he would mind all that much if she cried on his shoulder sometimes. Hell. He’d cried on hers last night, and the world hadn’t ended. But first, he had to get her through BUD/S. And the guys there would eat her alive if she dared to show any kind of vulnerability.

He sent her to the showers alone. He didn’t think he had the will to resist her, and Cal was in the gym working out, which meant he would shower soon. Instead, Griffin made his way back to the instructors’ barracks.

Trevor lay in his bed, in significantly worse shape than Cal. Griffin jogged over to the mess hall and grabbed a loaf of bread, some crackers, an armful of water bottles, and a roll of antacid out of a first aid kit. He took his haul back to the hut.

“Where’d you disappear to last night?” Trevor asked, enunciating carefully.

“I had to get out of here for a while. Went down to the beach. Had a few drinks. Slept it off.”

“With Sherri?”

Rule number one of being on a SEAL team was never to lie to your brothers. It made for some uncomfortable conversations and some painful confessions. But absolute trust was, bar none, the most important aspect of the work they did.

He sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked Trev dead in the eye and said, “Yeah. With Sherri.”

The Brit nodded. “She’s been good for you.”

Startled, Griffin blurted out, “How’s that?”

“She’s mellowed you.” As Griffin scowled in displeasure, Trevor added quickly, “In a good way. She makes you laugh. She has taken a few of the rough edges off you.”

Griffin shrugged. “That’s because she’s a woman. I’m not gonna treat her like I would one of you Neanderthals.”

Trevor spoke slowly. “I’m not so sure the influence of women on a team would be a bad thing.”

Whoa. Never in a million years would he have expected the Brit to take that stance. “Do the ladies know how you feel?” Griffin asked.

“Good Lord, no. I would never hand them such a powerful weapon to wield against me.”

Griffin traded rueful smiles with Trevor, silently acknowledging that the battle of the sexes was alive and well.

“But I’m told that expressing our feelings is good for us,” the Brit said seriously.

“Speak for yourself,” Griffin retorted. “The only reason you’re thinking about your feelings is because we took a terrible hit last night.”