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grief you were carrying. I didn’t want to add to that.”
    “So, you just dropped by one morning to say, ‘By the way, I’m leaving for basic training this afternoon.’” She moved toward the table and dropped into a chair, angry that the tears kept leaking down both cheeks. “In the next breath, you were gone. No glance back, no forwarding address, as if what we shared didn’t even mean anything.”
    “You hadn’t spoken to me for an entire week, Ali. It was killing me. We never went more than a day without speaking.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Your parents hated me, too.”
    “They didn’t hate you, and neither did I.” Tears flowed faster. Her voice was muddled, her heart in shreds. “I could never hate you. I was just confused.”
    “Having me around only added to that confusion. Don’t you see? I had to go. I couldn’t stay with the way I was—the way we were. It wasn’t fair to you.”
    “So, you left.”
    “Yes, I left with the hope that I could become something better—something more than the kid who always seemed to find trouble.”
    “And the SEALs helped you do that?”
    “It’s the toughest training I’ve ever been through…then the hardest seven—nearly eight—years of my life. But not only because of what I did, what I learned, where I was. It was hard because I wasn’t with you, Ali.”
    “You should have told me. I had a right to know.”
    “I only wanted to protect you.” He eased close to smooth a thumb over her cheek, gathering tears. “Please, don’t cry.”
    “You can’t shelter me from everything. I’ve learned that sometimes feeling pain, facing it head-on, is the only way to get through it.”
    “I know that now, too.”
    “I loved you, Ryder.”
    “And I loved you. That’s why…” He shook his head, his gaze softening. “That’s why I had to go, and why I’ve come back. I still love you, Ali. I always will. It’s the only thing in life that I’m completely, utterly sure of.”
    “Don’t say that. You can’t love me, Ryder. I-I’m thinking about getting married.”
    “Thinking about it?” The muscles along his jaw went taut. “But you haven’t promised yourself to him yet, have you?”
    “Does it matter to you, Ryder?” She turned the question on him and was shocked to see his jaw slacken, his eyes fill with a dangerous mix of fire and longing.
    “It matters to me, Ali. I just told you I still love you.” He slipped his fingers through her hair, drew her close to press his lips to her forehead. “It definitely matters.”
     
     
     
     
     

5
     
    “Well, isn’t this a cozy picture.”
    Ryder turned as Larder loped into the kitchen through the back door without bothering to knock. “Worthy of an original Thomas Kincaid.”
    “John!” Ali took a step back, swiping her eyes. She sniffled. “I didn’t expect you so early.”
    “I see you didn’t.” He circled the kitchen and sniffed the air like a bloodhound zoning in on a kill before pausing at her side to drape an arm around her waist. “Did you save me breakfast?”
    “We haven’t even started.” Ali’s gaze drifted to the buffet. “The food is warm.”
    “We?” Larder corralled her for a kiss, and it pleased Ryder that Ali turned her head just enough to avoid his lips. She caught the dry peck on her cheek instead. Yet, even that set him on edge and twisted his gut into a ball of tangled rubber bands.
    “What do you want, Larder?” Ryder took a step toward him.
    “That’s between me and Alison.” Larder backed away. “Looks like somebody’s been elbow-deep in menial labor. Smells like it, too.” He pinched his nose with an overly-dramatic flair. “The odor—not to mention the visual—is…offensive.”
    “Too bad for you.” Ryder stuffed the soiled bandanna into his pocket as he made his way to the sink. He turned on the water and scrubbed his arms to the elbows before reaching for a wad of paper towels. When he turned back, he stepped toward