“Hey, yourself.” I clutch my chest and try to slow my racing heart.

He wipes his hand on the rag he’s holding. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I knocked earlier but you didn’t answer.”

“I must’ve been with Aara. What are you doing?” I question.

Looking down at his clothes then back up, he raises his brow. “I’ve got his car running again.”

“I see that. I mean, why are you working on his car?”

“I’m helping.”

Letting out a deep breath, I count backwards from ten. I can do this. I need to sell his things and start putting my life in order. “Okay, I thought maybe I’d have a few days, but . . .”

“My leave is up in four weeks, I figured I’d get started right away.”

Makes sense, but there’s no part of me that’s ready for this. In my head I know this is the right thing to do, get it over with. Start to move on, but it makes my new reality so final. But death is final, so why am I trying to fight it all?

“You’re right. It’s fine.”

Liam takes a step closer and the look in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine. “One day that word is going to leave your vocabulary and you’re going to realize lying to me is pointless.”

Now I know why he’s so damn good at his job.

“Yeah, okay.” Trying to brush him off, I smile and tuck my hair behind my ear. He turns without another word and heads back to the driveway.

“Well, that was intense.” I jump at the sound of Reanell behind me. I forgot she was here and always lurking.

I turn and see her with Aarabelle asleep in her arms. “He was Aaron’s friend. He’s stationed with SEAL Team Four and is helping around the house—apparently.”

“He can help me when he’s done here,” she says as she looks out the window.

“I doubt your husband would approve,” I chide and flop on the couch.

She laughs and sits in the rocking chair. “Mason isn’t the jealous type,” she jokes. Her husband is the commander of Team Four. Reanell might joke, but she would never do anything. However, she loves to irritate him and rile him up. “What team did you say he was with?”

I pull my legs up and giggle, “Four.”

“Fuck.”

“Dumbass,” I reply laughing. Huh. I laughed again.

“Well, well. It seems someone is helping in more ways than one,” Reanell marvels and then looks away.

“Why?”

“Because you’re laughing.”

“I laughed before,” I retort.

“No, you fake laughed. This is the first laugh that didn’t look like it physically hurt you. Sure, you’ve put on a great show. But I think this Liam guy is a miracle worker,” she murmurs and walks out the room.

Maybe he is. Or maybe he’s the first person to not put up with my shit.

“Do you have any questions, Mrs. Gilcher?” Mr. Popa asks. He’s the liaison sent by our insurance company who plans to guide me through the paperwork.

“I’m not sure,” I mumble. In all honesty, I haven’t heard a word that he’s said.

“If she has any questions is there a number where she can reach you?” Liam asks from beside me.

He’s been here almost every day, making sure I go through one more thing on my list. Hell, he even made the list. I don’t look at it though. I get up and make sure everyone is fed. I can’t worry about all this other crap because it doesn’t matter. Well, I guess this part does. I’m not working yet and have no income coming in. I need to take care of everything, but I keep worrying about functioning. Then Liam comes in and makes me handle it all.

“Sure, here’s my card. Mrs. Gilcher, once we get the forms signed, the sooner we can get the money moved over. It’s imperative we get this process started. A lot of time has already lapsed.” He hands me the card.

“Thank you, Mr. Popa. We’ll be in touch.” Liam shakes his hand and walks him to the door.

I feel him sit beside me and he pulls me against him. I take the comfort he offers and lean into him. “This will get easier, right?” I ask.

Of course no one knows. Even the wives who lost their husbands tell me it does and yet it doesn’t. Amy lost her husband last year in a firefight and she said every day she wonders how she gets up and breathes. Jillian said the only way she finally felt human again was when she got rid of almost anything Parker touched, but I can’t do that. Making it like he never existed wouldn’t make my pain go away. But handling all the death paperwork and dealing with putting him to rest . . . this is what hurts.

“I’m not sure,” Liam replies honestly. Thank God for that. He never lies to me or tells me what I want to hear. He gives it to me straight and yet is never hurtful. These last two weeks I’ve come to rely on him more than I ever thought possible. His friendship means the world to me.

“Yeah, me either.”

“Why don’t we get Aarabelle and go do something?” he suggests.

I gaze into his blue eyes and see the excitement. He’s been here every day for the last two weeks and has done nothing but care for me in some form or another. Here is this single, very good-looking man who has put his life on hold for his best friend’s widow.

“You don’t have to babysit me. I’ll be fine.”

His mouth falls slightly slack. “Am I bothering you?”

“No!” I exclaim. “You’re a single guy. You don’t need to be spending your time with me.”

“Shut up. You’re loads of fun. I mean, where else could I get to meet a woman who’s not trying to get in my pants?”

I burst out giggling. “Happens often, huh?”

Liam tilts in conspiratorially, “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve been known to break a few hearts . . . and beds.”

“Breaking beds because you’re a fat ass doesn’t count.”

His face falls and he looks genuinely affronted. Next thing I know, he tears his shirt off and every ridge and ripple in his skin is on display. I’ve known him for years, seen him in a bathing suit more times than I can count, but there’s something different in this moment, but I’ll never let him know.

“Fat? Show me!” he challenges me.

I stand and poke his side. “What, you don’t giggle like the doughboy when I poke you?”

Liam laughs, “I don’t think you should joke about poking, Lee.” He smiles and grabs his shirt.

“Why do you make everything dirty?”

“Because I’m a guy,” Liam says like it should be obvious. “I’m going to go for a run and a couple hundred push-ups since you think I’m fat.”

“Ohhh, don’t cry . . . it happens to everyone when they hit that age,” I joke and it feels foreign. I’ve forgotten this part of myself. I find myself laughing more and more, reminding me of the person I used to be.

Liam turns and eyes me cautiously. “Let’s pretend you didn’t call me old and fat in the same minute.”

“Pretend away . . .” I trail off and saunter into the kitchen. Before I reach the door, I glance over my shoulder to see his reaction. He stands there stunned with his mouth agape. I grin and proceed forward, leaving him there.