your way so I don’t worry?
Trigger: Of course. Later.
Gillian: Later.
Gillian might not realize it, but the way she always worried about him was pretty special to Trigger. Most women he’d dated seemed to think since he was an alpha soldier, he was invincible. But Gillian was always telling him to be careful and warning him about accidents on the road. She’d even told him about a restaurant in the Killeen area that had been shut down for sanitary reasons and wanted to make sure he hadn’t eaten there recently.
Yeah, he had no problem with her worrying about him. It was cute as fuck, and he couldn’t deny it felt good.
Taking a breath and putting his phone back in his pocket, Trigger did his best to turn his mind back to the top-secret intel they’d been analyzing before the break. He could think about Gillian all day long, but for now, he needed to be one hundred percent focused because it was very likely they’d be shipped out. Soon.
Later that night, after he’d driven to Georgetown, after he’d kissed the hell out of Gillian when she’d opened her door to him, after they’d eaten the dinner she’d made in anticipation of his arrival, after they’d snuggled on her couch as they watched some random show on TV, and after she’d fallen asleep in his arms, Trigger took the time to deeply analyze his relationship with the woman lightly snoring two inches from his face.
He tried to be objective, to really give Lefty’s—and thus, his team’s—concerns some thought. But after only a short time, he knew for certain what he felt for Gillian wasn’t just because of some hero complex. Wasn’t a result of him saving her down in Venezuela. From the first time he’d heard her voice over the phone, he’d been hooked.
Trigger wasn’t a particularly religious man. But he’d once read a book about reincarnation, and it had struck a chord within him.
The author explained how souls typically reincarnate together. So those you knew in one life would reappear close to you in another. Your brother in one life might be your mother in another. Or your wife in one life, might end up being your best friend in the next. The author also suggested that in each life, a person had something to learn. Like love, friendship, humility. And if the lesson was learned, then the soul would move on and learn something else in its next life.
Everything about that appealed to Trigger. It made it easy to understanding how he and his team were so close. It also explained his instant connection to Gillian.
He knew some people would think he was crazy, that the whole soul thing was a crock of shit, but because of the things he’d experienced and seen in his lifetime, Trigger couldn’t dismiss the theory.
Gillian sighed, and the arm around his belly tightened and she nuzzled his chest a bit before settling once more. He knew she was stressed about the next day because she wanted everything to go off smoothly. She’d had one glass of wine and had fallen asleep almost the second he’d settled her against him.
Turning his head, Trigger kissed her forehead gently and stared back up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what he needed to learn in this lifetime, but he hoped it involved loving unconditionally, and wasn’t something about dealing with loss or something equally depressing.
The last thought he had before he fell asleep was that he hoped Gillian was as strong as she seemed. It was inevitable that he and his team would be deployed again. Very soon. In the past, women couldn’t deal with not knowing where he was going or how long he’d be gone, and their relationship had ended as a result. He didn’t want that to happen with him and Gillian.
Gillian felt as if she were being pulled in a thousand directions at once…but she loved the adrenaline rush she got from seeing all her hard work come together. She’d woken up that morning in Walker’s arms and the day had just gotten better from there.
Seeing her man in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt did something to her insides. He was good-looking no matter what he wore, but seeing him dressed so casually was a huge turn-on. He seemed to know; it felt as if he touched her way more often that morning. A brush of his fingertips against her waist as he passed her in the kitchen, a light kiss