“Fuck off. It’s not like you think.”

He shakes his head and claps me on the shoulder. “You’re going on a date with Aaron’s wife. Let me know where I’m missing something. Because it seems crystal clear to me.”

I shrug him off. He has no room to talk since he was screwing one of our buddy’s wives, but apparently he has short-term memory loss. “Maybe we should talk to Bueno about missing something. You seemed to be awfully confused when you slipped your dick there.”

“I was drunk.” He steps back and shakes his head.

I’m not going to sit back and let him give me shit. I do that enough myself. I don’t want to be that guy. The one who fucks his boy’s wife. Shit, up until the last month, I never even looked at Natalie that way. It’s not like I was chasing her skirt when he was alive. We’re friends and it fucking happened.

“Whatever, man. I’m just saying don’t give me shit. I’m not doing anything wrong. We’re friends and I’m taking her out so she has a night away for once. It’s been nine months since he died.”

“Did you fuck her?”

I step forward and ball my fists. “Watch your fucking mouth.” First of all, it’s none of his damn business. Second of all, if that happens, I don’t plan on telling him. “If and when we do . . . it sure as shit won’t be fucking.”

Some of the team guys are worse than a bunch of women. I’ll have to listen to all their opinions and unsolicited advice. I don’t want to hear how either they agree or don’t. It’s not up to them. As far as I know, I’ll show up tonight and she’ll tell me to fuck off—which is quite possible.

Quinn shakes his head. “Be careful, man. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’m always careful.”

“Yeah, well, this time you’re playing with fire. It’s not just some girl. It’s his girl and his kid.”

“I’m going to be kinda fucking obvious here, man. He’s dead. I’m not doing anything to tarnish his memory or life. He was my best friend. I would’ve gladly been in that Humvee when it was hit. I would’ve traded places with him in a heartbeat. Natalie and I are friends and there’s something there. So I’m not doing anything he would disapprove of,” I explain and he nods.

“I know you’re not like that, but I wouldn’t want my wife to marry another SEAL.”

“You’d have to find someone dumb enough to marry you first before you need to worry about that.” I try to diffuse the situation. I get that Quinn thinks he’s helping, but he doesn’t see it. He only sees what he wants right now.

“This would be true. And I’d have to give up one-night stands. I’m good.” He shakes my hand and laughs. “I’m going to the gym. I’ll talk to you later.”

“See you later.”

Tonight is going to be the first time I’ve seen her since we kissed. I tried to give her the lead. Let her text me first. I swear I lost my dick and grew a pussy. I’m doing the damn three-day shit. Ridiculous. I want to slap myself or pull my own man card. But she’s Natalie. She’s got a kid and she’s not some girl. I’ve known her forever. I was at her wedding for Chrissake. I can’t just jump the gun and go all caveman on her. She needs to feel in control.

I get home, shower, and make sure everything is set. When I called Reanell to have her watch Aarabelle, she gave me “advice” on what to do tonight. Not that I had a brilliant plan, but apparently Reanell wasn’t impressed at all. So, she provided me with the restaurant and where to take her after dinner.

Sixty seconds seem to take forever. The clock is broken because I swear it’s not moving. Fuck it. I’m going over now. I’ll annoy her until our reservation.

I grab my coat and head out the door.

The ten-minute drive gives me a chance to talk myself out of embarrassing myself. Even though we’ve been friends for years, this is definitely something else. I’ve seen her in dresses. I’ve seen her in a bikini. But this is different.

I park outside her house and open the glove box to grab the gift I got her and the letter from Aaron falls out. Fuck. I forgot about that.

Here I sit outside his house to pick up his wife for a date and I haven’t even read what he wanted me to know. I’m a fucking douchebag. I stuff the letter in my console. Tonight, I want to be with her. I don’t want his ghost haunting me and I already have enough guilt about this date.

I think about what Quinn said and how I’m stupid. Partially, I am. She’s a widow, a single mom, and trying to put the pieces of her life back together, but there’s something there. She draws me in and I don’t even realize it’s happening. She makes me want to be a better man.

I went from dreaming about guns to thinking of the way her blonde hair looks when she’s tired and it falls in her eyes. The way Aarabelle looks when she’s asleep and how much I want to have that at some point. I can’t explain it. I don’t know if there’s even a way to put it into words. But she does something and here I sit trying to talk myself into doing something I’m not sure I should. If she’d never been Aaron’s wife, I would’ve been at her door already. I would’ve had her in my bed, in my arms, and in my heart, but she comes with a warning sign. One I’ve chosen to ignore because I can’t. I’m weak to her and I don’t know why.

But I’m going to find out.

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound of the tap on the door causes the fear to stir like a snowstorm inside of me. The way your face grows cold and it hurts to breathe—which is crazy since it’s summertime. I know it’s not bad this time, but I’m still terrified.

It’s a date.

With Liam.

I glance at my dress and press it down with my hands, smoothing the soft, satin fabric and at the same time trying to calm my nerves. I do a quick mirror check, fluff my hair, and pinch my cheeks. I wore my favorite red dress. I was worried after so long it wouldn’t fit, but luckily it fits better than the last time I wore it. My breasts are fuller thanks to Aarabelle, and it clings to my curves perfectly. The soft, flowing curls hang to my mid back and I have my nude heels on. It’s the first time in months I’ve taken any time to really look pretty. Usually I’m in sweats and a ponytail. Not much need for vanity around a baby.

“Here goes nothing,” I say to myself before opening the door.

Liam stands there with his hand on the frame and my mouth goes dry. Holy shit. He’s dressed in black dress pants and a dark blue shirt. His sleeves are rolled showing his forearms and the fabric clings to his muscles. What is it about a man’s forearms that are so damn sexy? My eyes travel his body and absorb every part of him. It’s not normal how good-looking he is. It’s not fair. He makes it impossible for any woman to resist him. I make my way up to his face where the grin is painted. He watches me watch him, clearly enjoying himself.

I haven’t really looked at a man like Liam. I don’t usually pay attention, but with him . . . it’s impossible not to. He’s tall and steadfast, commanding and alluring. Every part of him screams danger, yet I see inside his heart. I see the man who cares for me and Aarabelle. The one who arranged an entire night out after not being able to see each other for a few weeks. I see the heart he wears on his sleeve with me. I want him to push me, but he knows somehow that I need to go to him.