Chapter 6
"Sergeant Kane."
I blink hard.
"Hm?"
Lieutenant Harper stares at me from across the briefing room with visible irritation.
"You with us today?"
"Yeah."
A couple of the guys around the table snort quietly.
I ignore them.
Mostly because they're right.
I haven't been paying attention for the last twenty minutes.
Which is pathetic.
I've sat through tactical briefings half asleep after forty-eight-hour operations and still retained more information than I currently am.
But apparently, all it takes to destroy my concentration is one exhausted single mother and a baby with chubby cheeks.
Fantastic.
Harper continues talking while I force myself to focus on the maps spread across the table.
Patrol rotations.
Schedules.
Training assignments.
Normal.
Routine.
Usually, the military structure settles my brain. Everything has order here. Predictability.
But every few minutes, my thoughts drift right back to apartment 4C.
To Chloe, standing barefoot in her kitchen, looking overwhelmed and beautiful in an oversized hoodie.
Beautiful.
That word lands harder than I expect.
Because she is.
Not in an obvious, polished way.
Not like women who know they're attractive.
Chloe looks like she forgot she's allowed to take up space at all.
But she has these eyes that catch you off guard - soft brown, guarded, constantly watching everything around her. And when she laughs, really laughs, it changes her whole face.
Like sunlight breaking through clouds.
I'm screwed.
"Earth to Kane."
A boot kicks lightly against mine beneath the table.
I glance sideways at Callahan.
He's grinning like an asshole.
"You look emotionally compromised," he mutters.
"Shut up."
His grin widens. "There it is."
I rub a hand down my face.
"You done?"
"Nope." He leans back in his chair casually. "Who is she?"
"There is no she."
"Kane, you've been staring into space for an hour, looking like you want to write poetry."
"I would rather die."
"That bad, huh?"
I glare at him.
Callahan laughs quietly.
The briefing finally ends ten painful minutes later, and the second we're dismissed, he falls into step beside me, heading out toward the training yard.
"So?" he asks.
"So what?"
"The woman."
"There's no woman."
"Kane."
I sigh heavily.
"My neighbour."
Callahan makes a dramatic choking noise.
"Oh my God, it's a civilian."
"Relax."
"You hate civilians."
"I don't hate civilians."
"You absolutely hate civilians."
I shove his shoulder lightly as we step outside into the afternoon sun.
"She just moved in."
"And?"
"And nothing."
Callahan gives me a look.
The kind that says he knows me too well.
"That's why you're distracted? Because of a woman you definitely aren't interested in?"
I don't answer immediately.
Which is apparently answer enough.
His eyebrows shoot upward.
"Oh, you're down bad."
"I'm not."
"You're thinking about her right now."
Unfortunately true.
Because I can practically picture Chloe perfectly.
She twists her sleeves nervously when anxious.
How quickly she apologizes.
The exhaustion was permanently sitting behind her eyes.
And Ava.
Jesus Christ.
That kid already has me wrapped around her tiny fingers.
I still can't get over how she grabs my dog tags every chance she gets. Like they're personally fascinating.
This morning, she'd held onto them while half asleep, drooling on my shirt without a single concern in the world.
I'd let her.
Happily.
Which feels dangerous somehow.
"You smiling right now?" Callahan asks suspiciously.
"I'm not smiling."
"You are absolutely smiling."
I immediately wipe the expression off my face.
Too late.
Callahan looks delighted.
"Oh, this is incredible."
"Shut up."
"She got kids?"
"One kid."
"And you already like the kid too, don't you?"
I stay silent.
Callahan stares at me for a long second.
Then he bursts out laughing.
"Holy shit."
"It's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
I glare harder.
He keeps grinning.
The thing is...
I don't even understand why I'm already this attached.
I barely know Chloe.
But every instinct I have screams to protect her.
Not because she's weak.
She's not.
Women don't run in the middle of the night with a baby unless they're strong as hell.
But she's exhausted.
Scared.
Alone.
And every time she looks at me like she's waiting for me to become cruel too, something ugly twists low in my chest.
Because some man taught her to expect that.
The thought makes my jaw tighten automatically.
Callahan notices immediately.
"There it is," he says quietly.
"What?"
"That look."
I glance at him sharply.
"The protective murder look."
"There's no murder look."
"Kane."
I exhale slowly.
"She flinches sometimes."
That wipes the amusement off his face instantly.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Silence stretches between us for a moment while soldiers move around the training yard nearby.
Then Callahan nudges my shoulder lightly.
"So what are you gonna do?"
I automatically look out across the base.
But all I can picture is Chloe standing in her kitchen last night while Ava slept against my chest.
The way she looked at me was like she didn't understand why I was helping her.
Like kindness confused her.
My chest tightens again.
"Nothing," I say eventually.
Callahan snorts.
"Bullshit."
Maybe.
But the truth is, I'm already in too deep.
Because somewhere between midnight grocery runs and bandaging her hand, Chloe Dawson stopped feeling like just the neighbour.
And Ava...
Ava already feels a little bit like mine to protect.