Intense

Cooper Banks was another one of our SEAL members, one of the more promising young guys. His specialty was demolitions and small arms, though he was also a hand-to-hand master and a skilled diver. I trusted Coop like I trusted anyone else, but I didn’t want to bring in the full team for this. We needed to stay low-key, and when all the guys were together, we tended to blow shit up without remorse.

And of course, Cooper was most likely to set those charges. The man was young, the youngest member on our team, and he was something of a loose cannon. I had to keep an eye on him every time we deployed. He always did his job remarkably well, but there was an edge to him.

Still, I had to admit that Travis was right. We needed a third guy on this, especially considering Omar had his own little team. We didn’t know what kind of training they had or how skilled they were, so we had to assume the worst.

I grinned to myself. “Fine.”

“What’s the plan for today?”

“You get some sleep. Coop can watch the parents.”

“Roger that.”

“I’ll call with more later.”

“Over and out, captain.”

He hung up and I tossed my phone aside.

I hadn’t heard a peep from the bedroom yet, which surprised me. I’d expected her to be up nice and early, but then again she’d been going through some pretty stressful shit. She probably needed sleep more than she realized.

I got up and grabbed the landline, dialing room service. I ordered us some food and some coffee and then stretched my legs out, smiling to myself.

Gorgeous fucking girl in the bedroom and food coming to my door. Not a bad mission as far as missions went.

I didn’t have to wait long for the food, at least. There was a knock on the door and a young guy brought the tray inside. The smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, plus fresh coffee, filled the room. I tipped the kid and went to work.

The smell of food did the trick, because almost as soon as it was delivered, I heard Tara stirring in the other room. I grinned to myself as she opened the door and came out, holding Mason in her arms.

“Is that breakfast?” she asked.

“Sure is.” I poured her a mug of coffee. “Dig in.”

“Room service?”

“Compliments of Uncle Sam.”

She made a face. “This is totally why the government has such a big deficit.”

“I’m pretty sure this is just a tiny little drop in the ocean of debt.”

She shrugged. “Still. You seem to be enjoying it.”

I reached out and gently took Mason from her. I held the kid as she started making a plate for herself.

“Of course I am,” I said. “I’m usually sleeping on rocks and in the desert on missions. I think this is the first time I’ve ordered room service.”

“Well, I can’t complain too much then,” she said.

“Good, since I’m normally risking my life to keep this country safe.”

She made a face. “Your cocky attitude makes it hard to feel thankful.”

“You should be thankful. I’m the man keeping everything that goes bump in the night away from you ignorant civilians.”

“I guess I’m just too ignorant then.”

“You’ll figure it out.” I rocked Mason in my arms. “When do you feed him, by the way?”

“Did it already.”

“Oh. Good.”

She laughed at me. “You really don’t know anything about babies, do you?”

“Not at all. I know plenty about guns and tactics, but babies are a mystery.”

“How about you keep him company while I go shower?”

“I can jump from a helicopter into a storm ocean, swim five miles to shore, and kill a man with my bare hands. I can handle the baby.”

“Good. Have fun you two!” She smiled at me and walked back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

I looked at Mason. “Okay, little man, it’s just us now. What do we do?”

He stared back at me blankly.

I didn’t know shit about babies. I had no clue what I was doing, or what I was supposed to be doing. And of course, Tara was taking forever in the bathroom.

I sat on the couch for ten minutes, bouncing him on my knee, trying to think of things to tell him. I ended up telling him an abridged version of one of my deployments, without most of the violence and gore. He seemed to like that, or maybe he just liked hearing my voice.

Holding my son was strange. Even thinking the words “my son” was an insane revelation every time it happened. I wasn’t a father, wasn’t cut out for having a kid. Even if I was, my job didn’t really let us have lives or families or children.

SEALs didn’t get close to other people. We lived on the edge of danger at all times and spent most of our lives abroad. Even if I wanted a family, it would be pretty damn hard to have one when I saw foreign countries more often than my own.