All she knew was the kiss they’d shared last night had proven the attraction had returned…and as much as she cautioned herself not to trust him, a large part of her wanted to explore the feelings he triggered now.

She sipped her tea as she studied his shoulder. His Under Armour shirt was so tight, she could see the top edge of the raised scars on his left shoulder. She’d seen him wince several times in the long night as he moved his arm or adjusted his pack. “What happened last night, when you were alone?”

“A merc crossed my path. We fought, and I killed him.”

His words were stark, but not without emotion. “You did what you had to do.”

“Yes.”

“And your arm? It was worse after that.”

“My shoulder dislocated in the fight. I couldn’t pop it back right away. Hurts like a bitch even now.”

“I have some ibuprofen in my pack.”

He gave her a half smile. “Of course you do.”

“Want some?”

“Sure. Doubt it will cut into the pain, but might as well give it a try.”

“You’re used to hurting.”

His nod was almost imperceptible. “Comes with the job.”

“But not like this. You haven’t been on an op since you were…shot, I presume?”

He nodded.

“Can you…talk about it?”

“I’m sorry. It’s classified. An op gone wrong.”

She dug out her pills and offered him the small pack. He took four and downed them with a swig of water. “Thanks.”

“Were you…the only injury? On the op?”

He gave a sharp shake of his head.

“The other trainers—the ones who are missing—were any of them on that op too?”

“No. All five were SEALs too, but on different teams. The only guy here who was on my team is—” He cut himself off.

She guessed he’d said more than he should. Or could.

“You know what? Fuck it. There’s so much I can’t tell you about my job, but that op is old news, and family members have the right to know some details.”

She felt a small flutter at his words. They weren’t a family yet, but if the pregnancy went smoothly, they would be at some point. Even if they weren’t lovers in the future, they would be parents together.

He pulled her close to his side so they were hip to hip. They were leaning against their packs, giving them a slight backrest as they faced the door of the tent.

He raised his coffee to his lips with his injured arm while his other arm cradled her. “If anything happens to me… Someday, Fig is going to have questions. I want you to have answers. I don’t want my child to not know who I was.”

That fast, a tear spilled. Damn pregnancy hormones.