“You.”

“What?”

“You keep referring to your younger self as ‘she’ as if Jenny is a separate person from you.”

Didn’t he realize? She was. Jenny Belmont was a lifetime away from Jennifer Wesley.

“You liked to read. You loved to ride horses. That’s still you, deep inside. Jenny Belmont didn’t die, no matter what those government suits might have wanted you to believe.” His fingers slid down, pressed over her heart. Her heart was galloping like mad beneath his touch. “Inside, it’s just...you.”

She was glad they were in the dark. Jennifer didn’t want him seeing her tears. “What about you?” Jennifer whispered. “Will you tell me what Brodie McGuire was like...before he became a SEAL?” His hand was still over her heart, but he adjusted their bodies, cradling her against him.

“I was a hell-raiser.”

What?

“Always getting into trouble. Always messing with Davis. I’ve given him hell all my life, but he’s always there for me. So are all my brothers. So is Ava.”

She pressed closer to him. “I kind of pictured you as the quarterback...maybe homecoming king...”

He laughed. She realized she loved the rough sound of his laughter.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “I was too busy racing my horse and raising hell for that. I lived for danger back then—”

“You still do,” she pointed out. “It’s not like SEALs live the safe and easy life.”

“No.” His hand stroked over her hair. “But I became a SEAL to make a difference. I grew up and wanted to do more.”

Like save a stranger from death.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” she told him. “So sorry.” She’d liked his mother. Brodie had her smile. The woman had been so kind but...

There was fear in her eyes when we met.

Jennifer didn’t tell Brodie that. Not then. He kept stroking her hair.

Her eyes drifted closed.

“I dreamed about you...”

She was almost asleep when she heard his soft words.

“And I wished so many damn times that I hadn’t just let you walk away from me...”

She felt the press of his lips against her temple once more.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Chapter Seven

“Jennifer, wake up.” The voice was deep and rumbling, sexy and dark.

Her eyelids slowly lifted.

“Do you know who I am?”

She stared into the most gorgeous green eyes she’d ever seen. “I dreamed about you, too...”

He frowned at her. “Who am I?”

“Brodie.” Her lips curled. She lifted her arms, looping them around his neck. “In my dreams, you didn’t let me walk away.”

Right then, it was hard to separate her dreams from reality.

“Kiss me?” Jennifer whispered.

“Sweetheart, I’m supposed to be checking—”

She pulled him toward her. He pressed his lips to hers.

Not a dream.

Her mouth opened beneath his, and his tongue slid past her lips. She pressed closer to him, wanting more, as her body seemed to ignite from the kiss.

One kiss shouldn’t make her body quiver. It shouldn’t make need, desire, grow—hot and dark and fast—within her. But it did. Because that was what he did to her.

“Jennifer.” Her name was a growl of desire. “Not yet...The doctor said I had to take care of you.”

She knew how he could take care of her. How she could take care of him.

He kissed her again. “Not yet...”

She stared into his gaze. Sunlight trickled through the blinds, and she could easily see the desire on his face.

“But soon,” Brodie added, voice a bit ragged, “I’ll take what we both want.”

“Promises, promises,” Jennifer whispered before she drifted to sleep once more.

* * *

BRODIE WATCHED HER SLEEP. He’d been checking on her every two hours.

He brushed back her hair. She murmured something in her sleep. Brodie leaned closer to her. “What? Jennifer, what did you—”

“Stay with me.”

His chest ached at those words. “I am. I will.” He wasn’t about to let her face the danger alone.

He’d never forget the terror he’d felt when he raced through the woods. Davis had been so confident that she’d snuck away on her own, but he’d known, he’d known, that she hadn’t left him. Not to the fire.

And he’d been so afraid that he wouldn’t be able to find her.

You won’t take her from me. He didn’t know who that sicko was out there, but the man had made a deadly mistake.

Brodie wasn’t going to let the guy attack his friends or his family. No matter what he had to do, Brodie would take the man down.

His gaze slid over Jennifer’s face. I’ll stop him, and then you’ll be safe...

She’d come back to him, and Brodie had no intention of letting her go again.

* * *

“JENNIFER.” HE SAID her name softly because he didn’t want to scare her. The back of his hand slid down the silk of her arm. “I need you to wake up for me.”

Her lashes fluttered as her head turned toward him. “Was...dreaming about you again.” Her eyes met his. He got lost in the darkness of her stare.

“What’s my name?” he asked her because that was supposed to be part of the drill the doctor had given him.

She smiled at him then, even as she stretched, catlike and sexy, in his bed. “Brodie.”

His name was a husky whisper on her lips.

“You’re Brodie, and I’m Jennifer.” A slight pause, then, “And I’m not delusional. I’m not seeing double. I’m totally fine.”

Had he ever told her that she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen?

“Brodie?” Her smile slipped. “What’s wrong?”

“You never would have come back...if you hadn’t been in danger.”

Her lashes flickered. “What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t have seen you again.” He had to kiss her. He leaned forward. Pressed a kiss to her full lips. “And that would have been a damn shame.”

A rap sounded at his door. “Brodie?” Davis called. “We need to talk.”

Davis had the worst timing in the world. The absolute worst. One day, he’d have to find a way of paying the guy back for all that crappy timing.

“I put fresh clothes in the bathroom for you,” he said as he stared down at Jennifer “Get dressed and come out whenever you’re ready.” Before he could move away, her hand swept out and her fingers circled around his wrist.

“Brodie?” Davis called again.

“I’m coming.” He’d locked the door, so Davis wasn’t about to just barge in—even though his brother had a habit of butting in where he didn’t always belong.

Brodie glanced down at Jennifer’s hand. Her fingers looked so delicate around his bigger, darker wrist.

“Thank you,” she told him. “For the clothes, for saving my life—for everything.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want gratitude from you.”

“Then what do you want?”

He stared down at her.

When he heard her quick inhale, Brodie knew that she’d seen the desire in his eyes. Good. He’d wanted her to know exactly how he felt and to know what he needed from her. “Everything.” As he’d held her in his arms as she slept, Brodie had realized he wouldn’t settle for anything less.

Her fingers slipped away from him.

“And that’s what I’ll take,” he promised her, then he left her there, in his bed.

* * *

BRODIE AND DAVIS walked toward the bluff. It was a beautiful spot, an oasis right in the middle of nowhere... Or at least, that’s what Brodie’s father had said about the place. The family had originally bought the land so long ago because of the lake—because of the bluff. Because of the beauty they could see there and the hope for their futures.

Their great-grandparents had been immigrants from Ireland. Desperate, looking for a fresh start, they’d come to the United States.

They’d found a new home. A new life. The land there had belonged to his family for over a hundred years.

The memories are good and bad here. His father’s words drifted through his mind. Words that his father had said months before his death. This place shapes us. It’s not just dirt and water. It’s our lives. Our home.