And Mary Smithwick was at the center of it all.
“Bert?”
He turned at the sound of her voice, and like every other time over the past weeks, his heart did that stupid skip-and-jump thing he’d given up trying to control. Mary was rolling toward him down the hallway, her laptop tucked on her lap. Her expression was focused but warm.
The sight never got old. Neither did the feeling of anticipation that moved through him whenever he saw her, or the way his thoughts drifted to her during the quiet moments of his day. If he wasn’t with her, he was definitely thinking about her. And that was becoming a problem, because what had started as an attraction was rapidly becoming something deeper, more complicated, and far more dangerous to the careful professional distance he was trying to maintain.
“Are you available this afternoon after work to go look at an apartment?”
Relief hit him so hard he had to consciously keep his expression neutral. He’d been worried about her commute every single day since she’d started, especially now that the colder weather arrived and was turning unpredictable. Morning frost had become common, and the forecast was calling for the first real snow within the week. The thought of Mary making that hour-long drive in winter conditions had been keeping him awake at night. He imagined her van sliding off an icy road, her phone out of range, no one knowing she was in trouble until it was too late. He couldn’t protect her from everything, but he could at least try to keep her safe from preventable dangers. Even if it meant risking her anger. Even if it meant she thought he was overstepping. Her safety mattered more than his pride.
He’d already decided that if she hadn’t found a closer place to live soon, he was going to leave the bunkhouse and rent an apartment near her parents so he could drive her every day. The plan had a dozen holes in it, not least of which was how Mary would likely react to his suggestion. She would probably call him out for overstepping and would remind him in that direct way of hers that she’d been managing just fine for years before he came along. She might even be offended, thinking he didn’t believe she was capable.
Realizing she stared up at him, waiting for a reply, he blinked, bringing his focus back to what she’d asked. “Yeah…um… absolutely. Have you found something?”
She stopped, close enough that he caught the faint scent of her shampoo, something clean and citrusy. A smile lit up her face, transforming her features in a way that made his chest tighten.
“The apartment building over on Cutter’s Lane has made their first-floor units wheelchair accessible. The manager called to say I could look at one today.” She laughed, a sound he’d become addicted to hearing. “It’s month-to-month renting. I have a feeling most of the renters will be older folks. But since I’ve called him almost daily for a month, he’s willing to give me first dibs if I promise to leave him alone.”
Bert laughed with her, shaking his head. He’d learned early on that Mary was tenacious. Once she set her mind to something, she pursued it with single-minded determination. She was also hardworking, intelligent, intuitive, caring, funny in a dry way that caught him off guard, and had a gift for organizing that had already transformed the chaotic administrative side of LSIMT into something that actually functioned smoothly.
The list of her qualities could go on and on. And that was exactly the problem.
He had feelings for her that went well beyond friendship… feelings that had started the moment she’d shaken his hand when they’d met and had only grown stronger with every interaction since. But he’d never given any indication of those feelings.
Because Bert knew what happened when you put your heart on the line. He’d done it twice before, and both times had ended badly.
The first time, he’d been young and stupid and in love with his hometown girlfriend. Sarah. They’d gotten engaged before his first deployment, made plans for their future, and talked about the house they’d buy and the kids they’d have. He’d carried her picture through two tours, dreamed about coming home to her, and counted down the days until his leave.
And then he came home early, eager to surprise her. He was the one surprised when he found his best friend’s truck in the apartment parking lot and discovered his best friend in their bed with Sarah. In the bed Bert had paid for, in the apartment Bert still paid rent on while he was overseas with his SEAL team.
The betrayal had cut deeper than any physical wound he’d sustained. Not just Sarah’s infidelity, though that was bad enough. But his best friend. Someone he’d trusted with his life.
Bert had ended the engagement, cut ties with both of them, and thrown himself back into his work. He’d told himself he was better off alone, that relationships were a distraction he couldn’t afford in his line of work.
But then, years later, he’d met Rachel—another military professional who understood the demands of the job and didn’t complain about deployments or missed holidays. They’d dated for almost a year, and Bert had started to think that maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he could have a relationship that worked.
Until the explosion that damaged his hearing. Until the medical change in status made him uncertain about his future. Until he’d overheard Rachel on the phone with a friend, talking about how she didn’t sign up to be with someone who was “damaged goods.” Until a buddy had shown him Rachel’s dating app profile, active and looking, while Bert was still recovering from his injury.
He’d been older then, and he’d decided that maybe relationships just weren’t in the cards for him. Some people were meant to find partners, build families, and have someone to come home to. And some people were meant to serve, to work, to be alone.
So he’d learned to think through every possible outcome before taking action. With Mary, the stakes felt impossibly high. If he confessed his feelings and she didn’t reciprocate, he’d lose her friendship, which had grown to be the best thing in his life. If he told her and she felt obligated to let him down gently, every interaction afterward would be strained and awkward. If he spoke too soon and scared her away, she might even leave LSIMT entirely, and he’d have ruined not just his own happiness but potentially her career too. So he stayed quiet, even when the silence felt like it was killing him. Working with her every day while pretending he wasn’t half in love with her was torture. But it was a torture he’d accepted as the price of keeping her close.
“You finally getting a place?” Todd Blake’s voice cut through Bert’s thoughts. The former Marine walked toward them, a sheaf of papers in hand, his usual serious expression softened by genuine interest. Brought in a week ago, Todd was one of the newer hires and had settled in easily. His brother worked for Mace in Maine, and his sister was with Carson’s team in California, so he understood the LSI culture from the start.
“I hope so.” Mary’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Or I might have to start living with you all in the bunkhouse.”
Bert inhaled sharply at the mental image that conjured. Passing her in the common area in the morning. Sharing meals in the kitchen. The proximity would be simultaneously wonderful and absolutely impossible to handle professionally.
Of course, she’d also be there with Sisco, Devlin, Todd, and Cole Iverson, the pilot who’d transferred from Mace’s team and had fit in seamlessly. The bunkhouse had six bedrooms, all of them large enough to accommodate bunk beds if necessary, though right now everyone had their own space. It was comfortable and functional, but entirely too small if Mary was going to be there, which made him lose his mind even more.
Jerking himself out of the dangerous direction his thoughts were heading, Bert forced his attention back to Todd. “Are those the new weapons requisitions?”
“Yeah.” Todd handed over the papers. “Logan’s approved them, but I know you and Mary will want to go over everything to make your financial recommendations.”
“Thanks, Todd,” Mary said, already reaching for the folder. “We’ll take a look and prioritize what we can order now.”
Todd nodded and headed back toward the operations center, leaving Bert and Mary alone in the hallway. She gestured toward her large office, and Bert fell into step beside her, matching his pace to the smooth roll of her wheelchair.