Dalton
Hampton, Virginia
I slide the last of Hadley’s books onto the shelf and step back, taking in the freshly made twin bed with its light pink sheets and stuffed animals Ivy brought over yesterday.
Her room’s just across the hall, neutral and clean, but I added a vase of peonies on the nightstand.
No idea why. Just...seemed like something she’d like.
I’m not nervous.
That’s what I keep telling myself. And Lila. And Logan. And Wells. Since they all won’t stop asking.
But my hands are doing that twitchy thing again, running over the same surface twice, adjusting angles that don’t need adjusting. The house smells like Pine-Sol and the roast Logan insisted on throwing in the oven the minute he walked in. I’m questioning if that request actually came from Lila.
“Man.” Logan leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his smug grin a mile wide. “You fluffed her pillows.”
I glance over. “I made sure her daughter has a safe place to sleep.”
“Right,” Wells drawls from the hallway. “That’s what this is. Totally about the kid.”
I ignore both of them and tug the corner of the comforter, unnecessarily. “She’s staying here because it’s safe. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh.” Logan pushes off the wall and claps a hand on my shoulder. “That’s why my fiancée has accompanied you on two Target trips this week.”
I shake him off and head to the kitchen. The clock says 1208.
They said 1200.
I open the fridge and grab a water, twisting the cap like it personally offended me. Logan and Wells are still talking behind me, but it’s a low hum now, background noise to the anxious rhythm thudding in my chest.
And then the sound of a car door slamming out front cuts through everything.
I move to the kitchen window.
Kyler’s truck.
I spot him first, posture sharp and unreadable even from here.
He moves around to the passenger side, opens the door, and Ivy steps out.
Then Kyler reaches into the back seat and lifts Hadley into his arms. She clings to him, blonde hair catching the sunlight.
Kyler’s hand brushes Ivy’s lower back, guiding her toward the porch.
I don’t like it. It’s not that he touches her, he should. They were married. He’s Hadley’s dad. It’s that she lets him. Leans into it, just a little. My chest tightens and it shouldn’t.
“You good?” Wells asks from behind me.
I nod once. “Yeah.”
Liar.
The knock comes and I’m already halfway to the door. I pull it open.
Kyler’s eyes sweep the entry like he’s scanning for threats, always working, always calculating. Ivy gives me a small smile, tired, tentative, and takes Hadley from Kyler. It’s a seamless transition. One I’m sure they’ve done hundreds of times before.
“Hey,” I say quietly. “Come in.”
“Thanks,” Ivy breathes, shifting Hadley as she walks past me.
“Hi, Dalton,” Hadley murmurs. “Thanks for letting us have a sleepover.”
“Hey, Hadley. Your mom brought your favorite books and toys. They’re in your room if you want to go see.” I smile at her.
“Really? Thanks, Dalton.” Ivy puts her down and she twirls off to find her room. I can’t help but wonder if this is who Ivy used to be.
Kyler steps in last, giving me a nod. “I appreciate you doing this.”
“No problem.” I shut the door behind them, jaw clenched. “Glad to help.”
Kyler starts walking the perimeter like it’s a recon mission, which it sort of is. He checks window locks, alarm panels, cameras. I let him.
Meanwhile, Ivy stands in the middle of my living room, looking completely out of place in the most beautiful way. She’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt and leggings, no makeup, hair twisted up like she didn’t even look in a mirror before they left and I still can’t take my eyes off her.
She catches me staring.
I look away.
Logan and Wells appear from the hallway, throwing waves and a “Hey, Ivy” like this isn’t weird.
“Lila will be here soon,” Logan says by way of greeting.
She hugs them both. “This is weird, right?”
“Very. But it’ll be fine. Between us and the mercenary you were married to, we’ll keep you safe.” Wells is trying to break the tension but it doesn’t work.
He earns a narrow-eyed scowl from Kyler who walks over to Ivy and says something low to her, too quiet for me to catch, but it makes her laugh, soft and familiar.
That’s what undoes me. Not the touch. Not the fact that he’s in my house. It’s the sound of her laughing at something he said.
I clench my fists and stare at the grain in the hardwood floor. She’s not mine. I know that. But damn if it doesn’t feel like something’s unraveling in me anyway. And the worst part? I can’t even be mad. He’s her past. Her family. The father of her child.
I’m just the guy with an extra bedroom.
Kyler straightens, gives Ivy one last look. I see it, the unspoken conversation in his eye. Then he turns to me. “Mind if we talk outside for a second?” he asks.
“I’ll check on Hadley,” Ivy murmurs to no one in particular.
I nod, say nothing, and follow him out onto the front porch.
The door clicks shut behind us.
For a minute, neither of us speaks. The wind carries a dry breeze through the trees lining the street, and somewhere nearby, a lawnmower hums.
Kyler looks out across the yard like he’s assessing a mission site. “I don’t like this.”
“Then why’d you agree to it?” I ask, sharper than I mean to.
His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t bite back.
“Because I don’t have a better option. I leave in less than twelve hours, and Ivy and Hadley need to be somewhere safe.
And you…” He turns to face me, something like recognition flickering on his face.
“James has Lila. I don’t know Bennett. Townsend means well, but he’s a dick…
” He trails off which isn’t what I expected from someone like Kyler.
I would have expected blunt directness. He pinches the bridge of his nose before running a hand over his short beard. “I remember you.” He continues.
Yeah. Fucking same.
“I’d just finished OTC. We were all in a JSOC briefing in some hot-as-hell metal shack in Africa.
I was still trying to figure out what the fuck I was even doing there in that room.
How I got to be someone in the room where it happens.
” He pauses and shakes his head. Like quoting Hamilton caught him as off guard as it caught me.
“Then again a few months later. Mathers was debriefing us on your recon op, and mid-sentence your flight got scrambled. I remember hearing them call you Ghost.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
He watches me a beat longer, and I swear he sees more than I want him to.
“I was there,” I begin, releasing a deep breath. “After Ivy’s rescue. TDY in northern Botswana for five weeks. I saw her.” I pause. “I saw you, too. I don’t know the full story, just the rumors.”
He nods once then shifts his weight and glances toward the front door. “She didn’t talk much after. Not for a while. She was there, but it was like...the lights were off inside. Until Hadley. Then she came back. Bit by bit. Never fully, though.”
I don’t interrupt.
Kyler’s caught up in a memory. “She used to be…” He looks at me, eyes narrowing like he’s watching something in his mind.
“Ivy wasn’t always this guarded. She had this way of grabbing life by the throat, no apologies, no holding back.
And her laugh, it wasn’t just noise. It was real.
She’d make me feel like nothing else mattered for a moment.
” He lets out a breath. “She lit up a room before she even walked into it. Now?” He shakes his head. “Now she flinches at shadows.”
I cross my arms. “You’re worried I’m going to hurt her.” Not a question.
He shrugs. “I’m worried she’ll let you.”
We stand there, silence folding over us again like the heat settling in the late afternoon. Finally, he sighs. It’s tired. Defeated, maybe. “She may not be my wife anymore, but she’s still off-limits,” he says, quiet now. “If that’s where your head’s at, clear it.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides for the second time in a matter of minutes. “I’m not going to disrespect her. Or you.”
He nods slowly. “Good. Then we understand each other.”
He turns, but I don’t let him leave yet.
“For what it’s worth,” I say. “I don’t think she’s yours to guard anymore. Not like that.”
Kyler stops halfway down the steps and looks back at me. For once he doesn’t look intimidating. Doesn’t look like someone the military spent millions of dollars training. He looks like someone who’s had his heart broken and it somehow makes him look younger, closer to his actual age.
“I didn’t say she was,” he mutters, low and flat. "But don’t think I won’t fucking find my way back here if I get so much as a hint that she’s not okay."
“Roger that.”
He nods. Then he takes the porch steps like a man already halfway gone and heads to his truck, tossing one last glance back at the house before he climbs in and pulls away.
The second he’s gone, I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath since he stepped over my threshold. I walk back inside and close the door behind me. The house feels quieter. Still too full of his presence, but also warmer, somehow.
Logan and Wells are in the kitchen now, cracking open beers and pretending not to be nosy. Ivy’s reading Hadley a book on the couch. I watch her like a man on the edge of a cliff.
She looks up, catches me standing there, and for the briefest moment, she smiles. It shouldn’t matter. But it does.
“Hey,” she says softly, still holding the book open on her lap.
“Hey.”
Hadley’s voice chimes in. “This one’s about a bear and a tea party. Want to hear?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I say, and walk toward them, the distance between us small but the meaning behind it everything.