Point Blank Seal

Her fingertips traced the scars crisscrossing his chest. Then she nudged him with her hands to turn around.

“Not much better back there.”

She smoothed her hands across the various wounds on his back, exploring them as if committing them to memory. “H-how did you ever survive this?”

“By thinking of this.” He turned to face her and wrapped his hands around her waist. He slanted his mouth across hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth, where it did a familiar tango with hers.

He could do this if he just maintained a certain level of control. He wouldn’t allow himself to let go.

Jennifer wedged her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and yanked at his zipper.

“Mama.” A wail quickly followed the single word.

Miguel jerked back from Jennifer. What had he been thinking? He could never maintain control with Jen.

She kissed Miguel’s chest. “Let me settle him. I’ll be right back.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and a few minutes later Miguel joined her, kneeling on the floor.

Mikey rubbed his eyes and let out another wail. Jennifer pulled him into her lap. “It’s okay, Mikey. We’re in a hotel, but you’re with Mama...and your daddy.”

A knot twisted in Miguel’s gut. He’d wanted to be a dad for so long, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. “Do you think he’s ready for that, Jen? Ready for me?”

“The sooner the better. Might as well get him used to the idea.”

“Doesn’t look as if he much likes the idea of a daddy.”

Mikey’s face had crumpled, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as he stared at his newfound father.

“He’s probably having a delayed reaction to that explosion in his room and the fire. He hardly had time to react before you swooped in there to save him. Now he’s waking up in a strange place.” She shrugged.

“With a strange man.”

“Not for long, Miguel. He’ll adapt quickly. Kids do.”

“We’re not giving him much to adapt to—a motel room instead of his home, most of his clothes and toys ruined.” He touched Mikey’s little fist, curled around a lock of Jennifer’s hair. “Has he had many men in his life?”

She sucked in a quick breath of air. “Dad and Mom have been to visit a few times, but Alicia’s husband, Troy, has probably been the most prominent male in Mikey’s life, since I see Alicia and Troy a few times a month.”

Her words left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t even like Troy, the husband of Jen’s best friend, and that guy had a more important role in Mikey’s life than he did.

Miguel met Mikey’s watery gaze and winked. He supposed he should be feeling grateful that Troy was there for Mikey...and Jen.

Jennifer kissed the top of Mikey’s head. “I’m going to change his diaper and try to get him to go back to sleep.”

“Can I watch? If I’m gonna be a dad, I’d better start learning the basics.”

“Of course. Nothing to it.” She scooted off the bed with Mikey clutched to her chest. Pointing to the corner where he’d stashed her bags, she said, “Bring me that green diaper bag. We’ll do it here on the floor.”

He strode to the corner and swept up the bag. He crouched beside her at the foot of the bed. “What do we need?”

“Changing pad in the side pocket, fresh diaper, wipes, a little tube of cream in the zipper pouch inside and a plastic grocery bag.”

He pulled out all the items she’d requested and lined them up on the floor, holding the diaper in his hand. “This looks like a complicated operation.”

“Only when he’s squiggly.” She grabbed Mikey’s kicking feet and pressed a kiss on each sole. “I’m going to start potty training him in about six months. Alicia said boys are slower than girls, but Bella was potty trained at twenty-six months.”

“If Bella can do it, Mikey can do it. Right, big guy?” Miguel poked Mikey’s belly with his finger, and his son rewarded him with a giggle.

Jennifer made short work of the task, and let him secure the fresh diaper into place.

He wrapped up the soiled diaper in the plastic bag and put it in the bathroom trash. Then he washed his hands and put everything back in its place in the diaper bag.

Jennifer had returned to the bed with Mikey and curled up beside him. “He’s still a little restless, so I’m going to cuddle with him until he falls asleep. Then we can get back to what we were doing. You got me all hot changing that diaper. Nothing sexier than a man changing a diaper.”

He shook his head. “That’s weird. Is the TV going to bother you?”

“Just keep it low.”

Miguel pulled his T-shirt back on and settled on the couch, clicking on the TV. He scanned through the channels until he found a news program and then glanced at Jennifer, her eyes closed.

Bending forward, he retrieved his phone from the floor and texted Josh, asking if he had any more details about the mole.

Josh responded quickly and Miguel read the text with growing dread. Josh had had some contact with Vlad’s people on Josh’s recent Stateside assignment, protecting the daughter of the drug kingpin Hector De Santos. Vlad’s guys had implied they had someone on the inside, and Josh had no reason to doubt that, at least he hadn’t wanted to bet against it.

Miguel clenched his jaw as he thought about Vlad, their nemesis. They’d been on Vlad’s trail when Miguel had been captured. He’d had a long time to think about a mole then.

Where had the SEAL team gotten the intel about Vlad’s location in those caves in Afghanistan? Through the Vlad task force? Was it just bad information, or was it very, very good information planted for the SEAL team, and him as the sniper, to walk right into an ambush?

Almost eighteen months later and after his escape from his captors, the CIA didn’t seem all that interested in finding out. Could this mole have infiltrated the top echelons? The task force itself?

Josh ended their text exchange with a curt directive. Watch your back.

Miguel tossed his phone on the cushion next to him, his gaze shifting to Jennifer, her body curved around Mikey’s, both of them sound asleep.

Miguel pulled his gun from beneath the cushion of the couch and hunched forward, watching the blue light from the TV flicker over Jennifer and Mikey. Instead of weakening him, his captivity had made him strong, hard—maybe too hard to be a family man.

But not too hard to protect them with every inch of his life.

* * *

A LITTLE HAND grabbed her nose, and Jennifer opened one eye while puffing a strand of hair from her face. “What are you doing, rascal?”

“Wake up, Mommy.”

“I’m awake.” She rolled to her back and raised her head. “Tell me you got some sleep on that couch.”

Miguel, showered and fully dressed down to a pair of scuffed cowboy boots, pushed up from the couch where he’d been perched. “I slept some.”