Accidental Shield

“Huh? What’s wrong?” I ask.

Flint looks down at the floor, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “We’ve got ourselves a dilemma. I’ve got two spare rooms, but seeing how we just moved in here a couple months ago, I haven’t had time to get ’em furnished yet.”

“Oh. No prob, I can sleep on the floor.”

“That’s a big hell no. I’ll take Bryce’s room. He’s still got a set of old bunk beds he uses for sleepovers, even though I think he spends too many nights on his futon now.”

I give him a solid once-over, shaking my head. “You? Scrunched up in a bunk bed?”

“I’ve done it before,” he says with a laugh. “Took a nap in an empty fucking fuel tank once on a mission, curled up like a cat. Thank God there was enough ventilation.”

I can’t imagine.

“Look, I’ll just sleep out here on the couch. It’s not the end of the world.”

“No. You need your beauty sleep, Val. Solid rest. The only place you’re gonna sleep is in that bed.” He storms over and lays his palm against the small of my back, spinning me around so quickly and so gently I barely realize it’s happened. “Now, go. Sleep. I’ll see you for breakfast.”

“Flint. Be real. I can’t put you out of your own bed,” I say, anchoring my feet to the ground. “You’re already going above and beyond. This is nuts. It’s huge. We could even…”

Share sticks on the tip of my tongue, but I just can’t get it out.

I feel like I’ve been hit in the face with an awkward stick.

Here we are, standing chest to chest, chin to nose, and my insides are melting down almost as quickly as they had earlier.

He steps aside, an impressive mask on his face. “You aren’t putting me out of my bed. I am. Big difference, babe. It’s my choice, my digs, so I make the rules. Now scat, lady. No more lip.”

“But I just—”

“Val.”

Oh, God. There’s just something about the way he says my name in this stormy, bossy way that saps the fight right out of me. I’d call him an ogre, but no make-believe grump ever looked this good or cared this much about some random girl missing her marbles.

I take a step forward but say it anyway. “I feel pretty guilty.”

“Don’t.”

I want to tell him it’s a big bed, like I had the very first night, but my reasons would be different tonight. Maybe my memory hasn’t returned, but I know myself, and I know what I’d want to do once he was in that bed next to me.

“Okay. Fine. Good night,” I say, heading off to the bedroom before I reveal anything else about myself that I’m not totally prepared to deal with right now.

In the bedroom, I find my pj’s and then take a shower.

Walking out of the bathroom, I stare at the bed.

It’s freaking huge. King-sized. Six full-grown adults could sleep in it without so much as touching.

“Stop it,” I hiss to myself, tossing back the covers so I can climb in.

I click off the bedside lamp and stare at the ceiling, marveling at how the moonlight shining off the ocean reflects through the glass. The shadows it casts through the French doors dance across the ceiling like fairies fluttering around.

An odd thing to think of. Fairies.

Yet, I do, and that makes me feel lonely.

This whole thing feels like some screwed up fairy tale, honestly.

That’s why I’d asked Flint to sleep in the same bed with me before. I didn’t want to be lonely.

It seems like a feeling I know too well.

Folding my hands together, I fidget with that halo I keep obsessing over. Flint’s ring, still on my hand, all shiny black pearl and promises never meant to be.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it?

I haven’t taken it off since the swim earlier, when I’d left it on the lanai table and promptly put it back on after he carried me to safety. Still haven’t asked him for the box, either, so I can put it back where it belongs and then have him bury it in his safe.

He said the ring was mine, but it’s not, it’s his.

Yet, lying here, twisting it around my finger, my sense of loneliness fades.

It’s a stunning ring. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. A rare pearl, too much like the hulking, brave SEAL who’s already saved me several times over.

Go ahead and tell me how sappy that is. I don’t care.

A sigh leaves my chest as I remember our bodies being pressed together. Whatever hell I’m in, that was a slip of heaven.

No amnesia in the world could ever make me forget it.

10

Change of Scenery (Flint)

I have to start taking my own advice.

Hitting the shower the second I’m alone is a step in the right direction. Not because I’m worried about sea water, I’d rinsed that off while the chicken was wrapping up.