He never forgave her for leaving.

She never forgot the man she left behind.

And now his past has come back to put her in the crosshairs.

Former Navy SEAL Weston “Cowboy” Hayes has spent years outrunning the ghosts of his past—missions that went wrong, brothers he couldn’t save, enemies who don’t forget. Keeping his world small, quiet, and controlled is the only way he knows how to survive.

Until Reese Faye comes home.

After losing her job without warning, Reese has nowhere else to go but the town she swore she’d never return to. She expects awkward reunions and too many memories—not Weston, the only man she ever loved, standing in the middle of it all.

The chemistry between them is still combustible. The hurt is still raw. And the past they never resolved refuses to stay buried.

Then everything goes wrong.

Reese is taken.

And Weston is too late to stop it.

It doesn’t take long for him to realize this isn’t random—it’s personal. The kind of vengeance that doesn’t forget. The kind tied to a past he thought was buried for good.

Now, with Reese caught in the crossfire of enemies he made long ago, Weston has only one choice—go back into the darkness he fought to escape.

Because this time, it’s not just about survival.

It’s about her.

And he’ll burn everything to the ground before he lets them take her from him again.

_____

Read an excerpt from SEAL of Valor

 

“Come on, you can hit harder than that,” I taunt Ryker as I bounce on the balls of my feet. We’ve been at it for nearly four hours now, with minimal breaks between rounds. Blood drips from my nose, but I wipe it away with the back of my hand and take my stance again.

“I’m out,” he says and puts up both hands.

“What do you mean ‘you’re out’?” I follow him toward the edge of the ring, desperate for more. More hits, more exhaustion. Because maybe if my body takes a beating, then the pain in my chest will let up.

“I’m not going to beat you bloody just so you can choose to ignore what you should be facing head-on.” He takes off his hand wraps, then downs some water from his water bottle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ryker eyes me, brow raised. “You and I both know what you’re doing.”

“Avoiding Reese?” Sawyer announces as he comes into the gym, bag in hand. “Man, Cowboy, what did Tank do to your face?”

“I’m fine.”

“You were purposely taking hits,” Ryker accuses. “And I have no interest in serving you pain.”

He’s right. And knowing that he sees it, too, has defeat settling over me. “I need the distraction.”

“You’re not getting any more of it from me.” Ryker tosses his wraps down and rolls his shoulders.

“Don’t look at me, either,” Sawyer says when my gaze shifts to him.

“Not too long ago, you were doing the exact same thing after Anastasia rejected you,” I snap.

“Except I wasn’t taking hits on purpose. I was just distracted. Come on, Cowboy, you’re better than this.”

But am I?

Am I really?

Because I haven’t even been able to sleep in my bed since she was in it the night of that storm. No matter how many times I wash the sheets, I smell her. She used my shampoo, but it’s not my clove bodywash I smell.

It’s her.

Jasmine and fresh linen.

And it guts me.

“I’ll step up.” Zane plucks the headphones off his head and crosses over from where he’d been doing solo mat work.

“Cap—” Sawyer starts.

“No, Cowboy needs to blow off steam. I’m happy to help.” His tone is clipped, his expression angry. Still, he knows what happened the last time Reese broke me. Is he afraid I’ll go off the deep end again?

Two weeks ago, I would have said that I’d be fine.

But now? I’m headed straight for the edge of a cliff I’d love nothing more than to jump from.

Zane quickly wraps his knuckles, then slips his mouthguard in and crosses into the ring. After rolling his shoulders, he bounces on the balls of his feet and takes his stance.

I move forward, charging with the pure desire to burn off as much energy as I can. Zane moves to the side and slams his fist into my back. Pain shoots through me as I fall forward, but I use it to my advantage and roll onto the mat, then bounce back up and spin toward him.

He moves to the side and blocks a kick before dropping down and swinging out his legs to bring me down to the mat. My lungs burn, muscles on fire, but I still get back up. So long as I can stand, I’ll get back up.

“You’re doing it again,” Zane says.

“Doing what?” I charge forward and grab him around the waist, taking him down to the mat.

Zane drives his elbow down between my shoulders, loosening my grip enough that he rolls free and gets up to his feet. “Trying to kill the pain rather than facing it.”