She was so bummed to see her friend go. Natasha’s return flight from Sierra Leone had barely landed before she’d gotten on another plane to visit Claire. They’d spent every possible minute together this past week, and Claire had loved every second of it. She’d missed Natasha’s wacky personality and outrageous sense of humor, not to mention her unconditional love and support.

And Claire hadn’t lied just now—Natasha had adored Aidan and Dylan. She loved them so much, in fact, she’d even joked about “converting” to straight just so she could steal them away from Claire. Natasha’s blessing had meant the world to her, especially since her parents continued to deny her their approval.

But in spite of that, Claire didn’t regret her decision to stay in San Diego with Aidan and Dylan. Living with them was better than she’d ever dreamed it would be. They took turns cooking and doing chores. They never ran out of things to say. They went out to dinner, watched movies, hung out at the beach. And at least once a week, they were surrounded by friends—swimming at Cash and Matt’s place, Super Bowl party at Jen’s apartment, dinner at Seth and Miranda’s.

She no longer thought of everyone as Dylan’s friend, or Aidan’s buddy. They were her friends too now, even Savannah, whose good-humored sarcasm and carpe diem attitude had eventually won Claire over—though the blonde’s grudging confession that Claire was good for Aidan hadn’t hurt, either.

She still couldn’t believe how easily everyone had welcomed her into the fold. She was involved in a committed ménage a trois, for Pete’s sake. Yet they were all taking it in stride, as if a relationship between three people was a normal, commonplace occurrence. Even Dylan’s mother accepted the arrangement, which was the most surprising thing of all. When Shanna had visited last month, she hadn’t batted an eye when she’d witnessed the easy affection that existed between the three of them.

Now, Claire rested her head on Aidan’s bare chest and listened to the steady beating of his heart, suddenly overcome with a feeling of tranquility. The only thing missing was Dylan’s hard body pressed up behind her, and his absence was a constant source of worry for her.

Dylan’s SEAL team had been called to action three days ago, and although Aidan assured her the lack of contact was normal, she still hated not knowing where Dylan was or whether he was okay. She had no idea how Jen or Miranda or Savannah handled their men’s abrupt departures and subsequent radio silence without falling into pieces. At least Claire had Aidan to distract her—the other wives and girlfriends didn’t have a second man they adored holding their hand through such a stressful time.

God, she wished Dylan would come home already. She knew Aidan longed for the same, even though he put on that strong, stoic front of his. Truth was, it just didn’t seem right when the three of them weren’t together.

“Do you think he’s all right?” Her soft question hung in the bedroom.

Aidan squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s just fine. Dylan’s hardcore, baby. You tend to forget that, because he’s so relaxed and cheerful all the time, but trust me, our boy can take care of himself and then some.”

She smiled. Our boy. She loved it when Aidan said stuff like that.

“I just hate not knowing. It’s so frustrating.” She sighed. “When Nat and I visited Savannah at her shop yesterday, she said the waiting and worrying isn’t so bad after a while, but I can’t imagine not freaking out whenever he gets called off on some dangerous mission.”

“I know. It sucks,” Aidan said simply. “But Savannah’s right, you do get used to it. Now, the thing that’s really going to suck? Is when he gets deployed.”

That hadn’t even occurred to her. “When does that happen?”

“I’m not sure which stage of the deployment cycle the team’s in, but I imagine it’ll happen at the end of the year sometime, and then they’ll be gone for six months.”

“You’re right, that will suck,” she said unhappily.

“Yeah, but you’ll still have me.” He slid down the mattress and rolled onto his side so they were lying face-to-face, but the second he leaned in to kiss her, the phone on the bedside table rang.

Groaning, Aidan grabbed the cordless. One glance at the caller ID, and a frown marred his lips.

“Who is it?” Claire asked.

“I don’t recognize the number, but it’s a Chicago area code.” He sat up and answered with a brusque hello, then went quiet as he listened. “No, Veronica, of course I remember you. What’s going on?”

Claire felt a flicker of distress as she studied Aidan’s expression. His dark eyes had filled with concern, and it wasn’t long before his face turned paler than the sheet beneath them.

“I’ll be on the first flight out,” he blurted into the receiver, and then he was no longer on the bed.

Claire was momentarily stunned as she watched him run around the bedroom like a madman, in search of some clothes. Then she snapped out of it and flew off the mattress. She rushed over to him, stilling his frantic movements by clutching his shoulders. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I have to go.” He ducked out of her grip and snatched a pair of sweatpants from the easy chair under the window.

“Aidan. Damn it, tell me what’s going on.”

“My father had a heart attack.”

She gasped. “Oh my gosh. Is he okay?”