I’m shouting over the sound of the alarm. I can’t hear if he’s getting dressed or not, but a moment later, he appears in front of my field of vision wearing the sweats. No T-shirt or anything, just the light cotton sweatpants.

“Where’s the fucking dog,” he growls.

“Jesus, I don’t know. Don’t shout at me.”

“I’m shouting because of the damn alarm.” He pushes past me, annoyance bleeding from every pore, and jogs the few steps to my door.

He presses the alarm pad and turns it off.

“I thought you said your bestest boy slept with his mummy?”

“Are you sure you don’t have British heritage?” I ask.

He does a double take and frowns. “What?”

“It’s just your sarcasm game is strong.”

He ignores me and shouts Brutus.

“He won’t come if you’re yelling like that. You’ll scare him.”

“Yeah, well, excuse me if I don’t think you’re that in tune with your dog, lady. You said he never left your side at night.”

“He doesn’t normally but those hell hounds you have parked on my rear lawn barked, and it freaked him out. He barked too and then ran out of the room.”

His demeanor changes instantly. He goes from annoyed to calm and deadly alert in zero-to-sixty. It’s intriguing to see. His face bleeds everything that was there before, and a still, predatory focus takes hold.

Finger to his lips, he creeps into his room and comes out a moment later holding the gun. I gasp, and he shakes his head then indicates for me to stay where I am. He won’t be getting any arguments.

My heart is pounding so hard I feel faint. We don’t use guns here in England. It’s not something we are used to or we see around. A huge, half-dressed Navy SEAL holding one in my presence is a head fuck.

He takes the stairs silently, and then all I can do is wait. After what seems like hours, he climbs up the stairs with Brutus in his arms.

“What was it?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “A badger. At least I think it was, but it was bigger than our badgers and with a black and white face.”

“Yep, that’s a badger alright.”

Then I slap my hand over my mouth before saying, “Is it still there? On the lawn? The dogs will kill it.”

“No, long gone.”

“Oh, phew. Wait, how do you know what it was then?”

He holds his phone up. “Security feed.”

“Wait, from what? I don’t have cameras.”

“You do now.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “How long did you take to turn my home into Fort Knox?”

“A few hours is all it took.”

“Are there cameras inside?”

“No, but there are cameras all around the outside of the house.”