Maybe that made me a bad fiancée, letting him distract us both with orgasms until we were limp. Maybe I should be saying no, making him talk out the monsters in his head. But I knew he wasn’t ready, and pushing him might push him further away from me, which was something I couldn’t handle. The other part? I loved when he reached for me, connected us in a way I felt like we were just barely missing when we weren’t in bed.

I applied the waterproof mascara and declared myself well-enough done. I’d learned my lesson at Captain Trivette’s funeral a few days before. Waterproof-only for days like this.

We’d buried Josh’s copilot under giant trees in a cemetery near Fort Campbell. Josh hadn’t moved a muscle during the ceremony. He’d barely blinked, his eyes either on the casket or Captain Trivette’s two small children. We’d paid our respects to her husband, Major Trivette, and he’d hugged Josh, asking him to visit sometime, and then we’d left.

Josh hadn’t spoken on the way home, other than to answer yes or no questions, but he’d nearly ripped my dress in haste to get to my skin once we’d walked in the door at home.

“I can’t get my fucking blues on,” Josh growled, but not at me, just in my general direction. In the last couple of weeks, I’d learned the difference.

“Okay, give me a second, and I’ll help you.” I slipped the sling-backs onto my feet and finished zipping up my black dress.

I crossed our hotel room to where Josh was half dressed. His short-sleeved white shirt was starched and tucked into royal blue pants with a gold stripe down the side. The abrasions on his cheek had healed, and the laceration above his eye had faded to a deep pink line. Everything about him was beautiful, from the carved lines of his torso to the perfection of his ass in those pants. I slid my hands up his shirt and paused at his shoulder. “No stabilizer?” I asked.

“Not today.”

“Are you going to hurt it?”

“I don’t care. It’s too bulky under my jacket, and I’m not fucking with it today. End of story. It’s coming off in two days, anyway.”

Do not poke the bear. I rolled my eyes.

“Jacket?” I asked, fixing his tie first.

He sighed and handed me the thick blue jacket. I worked it over his new cast first, which ended just beneath his elbow. It was a tight fit, but we made it. Once it was on, I buttoned the front for him. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“I’m still driving.” I smiled and took the keys off the desk before he could reach them.

“Baby, if I don’t have the stabilizer on—”

“You’ll just hurt yourself. You can get in the car, or you can stay here.” My chin rose an inch, and I held his gaze, refusing to back down.

“Fine,” he said, with a soft kiss against my lips. Over-sexed or not, his kisses were still the sweetest moments in my world.

We drove from the hotel, curving along the stone-walled roads of West Point Military Academy until we reached the parking lot, and then walked the rest of the way, my footsteps feeling heavier as the entrance came closer.

Josh took my hand as we entered the massive chapel. It was beautiful and overwhelming, the giant stone columns stretching skyward to support the panels of stained glass that let in the noon light with prismatic brilliance. The wooden pews were full of gray-uniformed cadets paying respect to one of their own, as we made our way up the center aisle toward the family.

It was such a fitting good-bye for Will.

You cannot cry yet. Hold yourself together.

A few deep breaths later, we moved to sit a couple of rows back, but Paisley waved us up and pointed to the empty pew across from hers in the front row.

Will’s casket was closed in front of us, the flag draped across it. Somehow it transformed to Dad’s in my warped mind, and I blinked the image away.

“Where is Will’s family?” I whispered to Josh as he took the seat closest to the aisle.

“His mom and dad are on the other side of General and Mrs. Donovan,” he answered. Jagger sat on the aisle, then Paisley, Morgan, and then the Donovans and Carters.

“That’s it? That’s all he has?”

Josh nodded. “And they’re not much, from what he told me.”

“There’s Grayson and Sam,” I said, waving them forward. They took the seats next to us.

“I can’t believe this is how we meet up again,” Sam whispered, taking my hand.

Four months. That was all that had passed since we’d sat in front of the fire, celebrating Jagger and Paisley’s wedding. Now we were gathered in front of Will’s casket.

Life was not fucking fair.

The service began, the minister talking about honor, duty, God, country, everything Will had stood for, and yet not what I’d remember him for. I took Josh’s hand with my free one, stroking my thumb over his fingers, which had gone cool to the touch.

General Donovan took the podium, taking a deep breath and bowing his head before he began to speak. “Lieutenant William Carter was a man of uncompromising morals and steadfast loyalty. He was a damn fine officer, but more importantly, Will was an exemplary man. He didn’t let many people into his inner circle, but once he did, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. He would walk into fire for those he loved.” He looked at Paisley, who leaned her head on Jagger’s shoulder. “He would go to battle for his friends.” He looked directly at Josh, then Grayson. “And he would willingly give up his life for his brother.” General Donovan’s face twisted, his lips pursing and flattening as he battled for control, but he met Jagger’s eyes. “Even had he known his fate, Will would have made the same decision.”