Chapter Five

"Well, that went to shit in a son of a bitchin' hurry," Alex snarled as he slammed himself into his office. He was flaming pissed that he'd lost his temper—again! More pissed that he'd all but attacked the young man who'd had guts enough to face him after all these years. Who'd been smart enough to come here for a job, instead of accepting less from anyone else. Who'd had to be one brave son of a bitch to confront the bastard that might hate him, or want to kill him on sight. Requesting this job interview had to have been the gawddamnedest, hardest thing Hayes had ever done in his life. And like the ass he obviously could still be, Alex had rained hell all over the man. Real brave, that. Real stupid was more like it.

Alex slammed his day planner onto his desk, sending it skidding across the polished, slick surface as he circled behind the elegant chunk of marble to the window. He was so angry! Like a crazed lion protecting his kill, he stared over his credenza at the scenery but didn't see a damned thing. Only the two blonde, blue-eyed sweethearts he'd buried before their time.

The pain of losing them never went away. It couldn't. Not because he hadn't tried to let it go and move forward, but because he still and would forever miss his first wife and his oldest daughter. Sara and Abby. God, he still loved them, and he missed them savagely.

Looking up at the ceiling, a roar sprang up from deep in his gut, the need to scream at God and swear and cry and… Son of a bitch! He hadn't been this out of control in years. But he would not give in to that level of rage again. He refused to backslide or relent. He was not that man, that desperate lovesick fool anymore.

Son of a bitch! Remembering was hard.

Forcing himself to recall the positives in his life, to count them one by one, Alex calmed the cruel side of his nature into restless, uneasy submission. Nothing today was as bleak as it had been back then. Those first years after their deaths had been Hell on Earth. He'd been the Walking Dead, no doubt about that. But he had Kelsey now, and she'd brought a wellspring of quiet wisdom and gentle knowledge into his life. She'd showed him better ways, more logical ways to vent and, ultimately, to heal. He didn't curse God anymore, and most of the time he wasn't the ass he used to be.

And Alex didn't hate Shane Hayes. Never had. Hadn't even considered it. He'd hated that Sara and Abby had died, sure. But the only person he'd truly blamed and hated for years had been himself. That because he hadn't been with Sara and Abby when they'd needed him most. A husband and father should never live when his wife and little girl didn't. Yet even that was a false negative, one of those sucking black holes grieving people often dug themselves into and spent the rest of their lives trying to escape.

Taking another calming breath, Alex rolled his shoulders and popped his neck, staving off the killer migraine he'd come to expect after temper tantrums like this one. Taking another slow, steady breath, then exhaling just as slowly, he did as Kelsey had taught him. It seemed a useless, small thing for a hard-charging man like him to do, but Kelsey was right. Controlling his breathing helped. The red-hot anger dissipated into aching nothingness. The self-incrimination in the center of his chest left like the ghost it had always been.

Hayes should sure as hell hate him, especially now that Alex had shown his true colors. His old true colors. Alex wouldn't blame Hayes if he did. But he deserved better, and Alex was finally the man Kelsey had always thought he was. God, he adored that woman.

Because of her he wasn't hateful, mean, or resentful anymore. Couldn't remember when it happened, but he had really moved on. Didn't even hate himself like he used to. He'd healed, and he liked who he was today. Well, most days. Not this morning, but…

That was the son of a bitchin' problem. Alex couldn't explain why he'd gone off the rails so quickly, or why he'd all but attacked Shane Hayes. For what? It wasn't as if he'd bragged or rubbed those untimely deaths in Alex's face. The poor guy hadn't done anything but confess to murder. Three murders, for the love of God. Three murders he sure as hell hadn't committed.

Turning away from the scene outside that he wasn't seeing, Alex took another breath and sank into his chair. Just as quickly, he dug his heels into the carpet and shoved the chair back from his desk. He needed to get a grip, march back into Mark's office and face Hayes, like a man this time instead of an asshole. The kid deserved respect, not bullying.

Better yet, Alex needed to talk with Hayes, really converse and get him some help. No one should waste the rest of his life stuck in the past, worrying what he should've done differently or better. Shane Hayes wasn't a murderer, and he deserved a second chance. That long-ago morning had simply been a mix of unbearably tragic accidents for everyone involved.

Not just for Alex. Hayes was right; he was still carrying those three deaths. Blaming himself for things that were out of his control. Son of a bitchin' survivor's guilt. It never gave a guy a break, but if he let it, it could surely destroy the rest of his life.

Alex ran a hand over his chin. Mark was right. Hayes was a good fit for The TEAM. Just looking at him told Alex all he needed to know. Thickly-muscled up top, but lean through his waist and thighs, Hayes was obviously self-disciplined. A self-starter. He didn't mind hard work or manual labor. Alex saw his hands. They were callused, the nails chipped, the cuticles ragged. Shane was earnest, honest, tried, and true. A damned good sniper and a man of integrity, according to his after-action reports. That he'd joined the Corps immediately after he'd buried his mother was troublesome, though. Why would any guy follow in the footsteps of the man whose wife and daughter he'd accidentally killed? Alex needed to know.

The hint of whiskey on Shane's breath worried him, too. He'd gone down that same road to nowhere after Sara's and Abby's deaths. Had Shane? Was he a closet alcoholic like Junior Agent Renner Graves had once been? Did he carry a flask everywhere he went? And if he drank, was he a sloppy drunk, or did he know when to say enough? Could he handle his liquor? Was he worth the risk?

Hell, yes. Alex already knew that. Any man brave enough to face him after all these years was precisely who he wanted on his TEAM. And if Shane had a drinking problem, it was none of Alex's business. The truth would out. If Shane was as smart as Alex knew he was, he'd find a way to handle it himself. That was what men did. They manned up, by hell.

Son of a bitch, Stewart. First impressions count, damn it. On both sides of the fence. And now you proved you're an out-of-control asshat, while he proved he was a damned good man. What were you thinking?

Truth was, he hadn't expected Shane would show up today. More than anyone, Alex understood the misdirected sense of responsibility that came with survivor's guilt. For years, he'd carried a gut full of self-hatred for not having been with Sara and Abby that morning. He should've been the one driving that day. He should've been in the country with his family where he'd belonged. Not on the other side of the globe doing Uncle Sam's dirty work.

But he hadn't been there. He'd been a world away. And those were the immutable facts. He didn't have to agree with them, and he sure as hell didn't like them. But facts were rigid sons of bitches. They were what they were. Reality. And a stupid, hard-headed man could waste the rest of his life blaming himself for things he couldn't change and hadn't been responsible for. Or he could get on with the art of living, and in doing so, honor the people he'd lost. Like Sara and Abby. Like Kelsey's two innocent sons. She'd suffered an incalculable loss, too. And because of her pain, she was the one—the only one—who'd gotten through to him. Who'd saved him.

Alex let his lungs and belly fill with another deep cleansing breath. It had taken years, but he understood now that he wasn't to blame for everything that went wrong in the world. Neither was Shane. Accidents happened, damn it. And the only relief Alex had found in all those police and insurance reports was in understanding that fate was just a damned fickle bitch.

Understanding that Sara and Abby had died quickly, that his wife and daughter were together at the end brought some measure of comfort. There was peace in that knowledge, and that was precisely what Shane needed now. A measure of peace in his soul, a hand up, and the comfort that came with belonging to a family like The TEAM. It still wasn't enough, but that was another one of those damned facts. The people you loved the most would still die. That didn't mean you should stop living. If anything, you should live better.

Alex stuck his knuckles in his eyes and wiped the annoying glimmer of tears away. He wasn't the angry, bleeding, belligerent, grieving son of a bitch he used to be. Well, he was still grieving—always would be that—and Hayes had certainly stirred up a hornets' nest of bitter, wretched memories that Alex would rather leave in the past.

But the kid needed help finding a way out of his own survivor's guilt, and he'd come to the right place. The TEAM was made up of a bunch of survivors. Hell, look at Beau Villanueva and Maverick Carson. Look at Harley Mortimer and Jameson Tenney. Shit, look at me.

The phone on his desk rang, startling Alex out of his melancholy. He glared at the damned thing, daring it to ring again. Of course, it shrilled right back at him, right on cue, like phones did, damned annoying things.

Oh, Kelsey. Good. Just seeing her name on the lighted caller-ID strip sent a shot of relief straight to Alex's gut. The woman always seemed to know when to reach out and touch him.

His greedy fingers latched onto the receiver like a lifeline. "Hey, sweetheart, whatcha need?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral. His fingers were shaking, what the hell?

"Just want you to know Maverick will be in late today because he's here changing my tire. Guess I picked up a roofing nail yesterday, maybe when I took your dad in for his weekly appointment. There was a lot of construction going on there, and flashing barricades were all over the parking lot. Nothing major. Maverick will check in with you as soon as he gets to work."

"Sure, no problem. Harley's already down at the barns. A nail, huh?"

"Yes, but it's nothing you need to worry about. Maverick will run my tire over to Stark's garage on his way in. We can go get it later tonight, and tomorrow I'll be good as new." She always sounded so damned upbeat. It was hard being even a few miles away from her when he was feeling this ornery and mean. One kiss was all it would take to set him right.

"No problem," he told her. "For you, anything."

"What's wrong, honey?"

Alex ran a hand over his face. There was no sense lying. Kelsey knew him too well. "Nothing really." Just me being my usual dumbassed self.

"But something. I can hear it in your voice. You're not angry, you're… you're hurting. What's going on, honey? Did somebody die?"

And now he'd frightened her. "No, sweetheart. Everyone's fine, well…" He rolled his shoulders to shake off that damned migraine before it ramped up any worse. "I just met the young man who was driving the delivery van the morning that—"

"Oh, no. Alex, I'm so sorry. I'm on my way. Don't go anywhere."

"No, sweetheart, stay home with the kids. I'm fine. Really. It just hit me harder than I thought it would and…" He pulled the receiver away from his ear and stared at the thing, sure he was talking to dead air. "Kelsey?"

Yup, she'd hung up on him, and she was on her way to him. He loved her so much that sometimes the link and love they shared physically hurt. He replaced the receiver in its cradle, finally sucked in a full breath, lifted to his feet, and headed his sorry ass back to Mark's office. If Shane Hayes could summon the courage to face him, by hell, he could look that man in the eye and treat him civilly.

Damn it, sometimes Alex was best at making an ass of himself instead of handling delicate, sensitive situations, well, delicately. With one more cleansing breath, he palmed Mark's door open and faced Shane Hayes again.

Mark looked up from his desk, his brown eyes so dark, they'd gone completely black. He wasn't smiling. Neither was the young man sitting alongside the desk. Shane's dark blue eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked like a pile of warmed-over shit. Especially with those stains down his shirt. Looked like someone threw up on him.

Way to go, Stewart. Kick a man when it's obvious he's already down.

Alex shut the door quietly this time, pulled the chair he'd been sitting in from the corner, and joined the huddle at Mark's desk.

"I was just telling Shane that you needed more time, that you'd come around," Mark explained quietly, his voice uncommonly firm. Not accusing, but stern, as if he dared Alex to act like an idiot again. "But like it or not, Boss, Shane's USMC record is impeccable, and The TEAM needs him. I strongly recommend you hire him today."

Alex ran a hand up the back of his neck, cracked his jaw, and calmly replied, "Already told you to hire him."

"But you didn't sound like you meant it."

"And I don't need any job that bad," Shane declared. "I only stayed because Mr. Houston asked me to, but I've got other offers. I'm not desperate, you son of a bitch."

Alex nodded, taking that angry hit as graciously as he could. He had to give this guy credit. Shane wasn't taking anymore shit, but Alex truly doubted that ‘other offers' dig. Shane's demeanor radiated desperation, else why would he risk coming into TEAM HQ to ask the man he thought hated him for a job? If not desperate, then why'd he apply?

It was an employer's market these days. With all the men and women coming home from the sandbox, the covert security market was glutted. There were too many good guys and gals for all of them to end up at TEAM HQ. Decent jobs with benefits as good as Alex provided were damned hard to come by, especially for the uniquely skilled former military snipers he targeted.

But Alex didn't call Shane's bluff. This man had just gone above all expectations. He didn't need any more crap. Instead, Alex swallowed his pride with a long, audible sigh and told his newest employee, "Shane, I apologize. What I said before wasn't fair to you, nor was it necessary. Truth is, you hit a tender nerve I didn't realize I still had. I was a mess for years after I lost Sara and Abby. And now that I've had time to calm down and think, I can see that you're in the same dark place I was then. When I first lost my family, I believed there would never be any relief for me. I blamed myself for everything that happened, and I… Shit, I honestly hated everything and everyone for a few years. I took out my anger on my employees, and I hated the two women, the ex-wives" —he cleared his throat after admitting how stupid he'd been— "who I tried to replace Sara with. I know now I did that because I hated myself most of all."

"You think I don't know how that feels?" Shane asked more softly, his head cocked and those ocean blue eyes taking stock of the man Alex truly hoped he was now.

And there it was, the truth. Alex had thought he'd lost everything back then. Well, Shane had lost everything, too. Maybe more.

"No, I think you know precisely what I'm talking about." Alex moved to the edge of his chair, reached one hand out, and laid it on Shane's shoulder. That was some shoulder, damned near as wide and as hefty as Mark's. This was no young kid at his fingertips, but a war-hardened Jarhead with the persistent growth of a heavy five o'clock shadow, and it wasn't even noon. A man Alex admitted he respected. "Mark Houston's my second-in-command, Shane, and he does all the hiring. If he says you're good, you're hired. Simple as that. I trust Mark with my life, and because he trusts you, I trust you with my life now, too. Deal?"

Mark dipped his head, acknowledging that he understood how difficult this was for Alex. "He is that good, Boss. If you don't snap Hayes up, some other security company will, and it'll be our loss."

Alex appreciated that Mark said, "our loss," not "your dumb-assed fault."

"Then do it," Alex said, his angst completely gone instead of just buried, and his head on straight once again. To Shane, he said, "My wife's on her way in. You'll like Kelsey, and I know she'll like you. Are we square?"

Shane nodded, but there was no hint of a smile on his rugged face, no relief at being employed shining in his eyes. Well, Alex figured he deserved that. Next step: Prove to Shane how well he would fit in The TEAM. How much he was needed. Fitting in was one thing; belonging was another. It was time Shane Hayes found his place in the world, and it was with The TEAM, damn it.

Imagine an eighteen-year-old with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Still navigating his way through his first year of college. Then faced with arranging and paying for his mother's funeral. Top that off with a tragic vehicular accident that ended in two deaths and…

Son of a bitch. What was God thinking to put that heavy load on a kid still wet behind the ears? Alex had been eight years older than Shane the day of that fateful accident, and eight years was a helluva difference between a kid fresh out of high school and a dumb-assed grunt who'd thought he had to save the world. Hell, Alex hadn't been able to save himself. Kelsey had done that. Alex knew that for damned sure.

Now, twelve years later, four of them spent banging his ornery head against every brick wall that came along, including two divorces and enough Irish whiskey to drown a team of draft horses—or asses, depending on how you looked at things—Alex wasn't the mean bastard he'd been back then. Well, he was still a bastard. A man could only change so much. But he'd married Kelsey and loving her made all the difference. Sure, he still had bad days, and he would forever miss the blonde darlings he'd had to bury. There was no replacing the people he'd loved and lost, not ever. But he had Kelsey to wake up to each morning now; his darling Lexie Rose and Baby Bradley to play with and read to when he went home. To kiss goodnight.

His family was Alex's second chance, and Kelsey was his guiding light, the one, true bringer of life into his sour, old heart. If not for her positive outlook on life and her forever annoying habit of forgiving everyone—including him—well, he'd just be a bitter old drunk. Still cursing God, the world, and himself, like the loser he'd been after the funeral. Those had been some damned dark days. But they were safely buried in the past, and honoring his first wife and daughter by living was the best kind of comfort. Somehow, Alex needed to teach Shane that.

He squeezed that bulky male shoulder again. "If you came here to ask me to forgive you, Shane, you came to the wrong man. I never blamed you. There's nothing to forgive. Accidents happen, and cancer is a son of a bitch. I'm sorry you lost your mother, but you can't carry those three deaths with you for the rest of your life. Sara and Abby are at peace now. So's your mom. Do you think they want you to suffer for something you had no way of preventing?"

Alex never thought he'd be the one sitting here talking to anyone like this or about those deaths like he was. But it felt good being the only one who truly understood how Shane felt. It'd feel better if he were able to help this younger man recover from what had been a helluva blow.

Forgiveness was never meant for the person you wronged. Most times, they didn't even know what they'd done to you or that you were bitterly condemning them behind their backs. Forgiveness was simply the grace you needed to let go of the things you could never change. It was the wisdom to forgive yourself for being human and the permission you gave yourself to start living again. It was a built-in escape clause when tragedy struck and you thought all was lost or everything was hopeless. According to Kelsey, God was the most perfect Father of all fathers. If Alex, as flawed as he knew he was, could love his imperfect children as much as he damned well knew he did, how much greater did his Heavenly Father love every last one of his children? Even the sinners... like me.

Shane nodded, sniffed, and rubbed a hand under his nose. His eyes fluttered until he finally looked up and met Alex's gaze. "I do know that, Mr. Stewart, err, Alex. But it's damned hard to forgive myself. Sounds easy, but…" He brushed his hand over his face again. "I still see them, then I see you, and then I… I…"

"Have you been to grief counseling?" Mark asked.

Shane shook his head. "No. Wasn't time. I enlisted right after I buried Mom."

"Why?" Alex asked. "Why'd you enlist so soon after you'd lost everything?"

Shane's nostrils flared and his chest heaved. He swallowed hard, his neck muscles working to make something go down. "Because… I ruined your life. I took everything from you. And I read somewhere that you'd left the Corps, that you quit because I took your family away from you. I had to do something to make it right, so I became—"

"You became a scout sniper because you thought you could pick up where I left off."

Shane nodded. "It seemed smart at the time. I mean, I saw you in your dress blues at the funeral. I was there. I saw what I did to you. I needed to pay it forward somehow."

Enough! Alex closed the distance and pulled Shane's hard head into his shoulder. It was either that or bust out bawling as that day crawled all over him again. "You've suffered enough. You've given enough," he declared, his voice husky as hell. "Let it go. What's done is done. It's over."

"I did it for you. I paid it forward for you." The guy was shaking, and Alex was so damned humbled. He sucked in a belly full of air and slapped the back of Shane's hard head. "You're an idiot, you know that, don't you?"

"Guess that makes two of us then," Shane said as Alex let go and Shane sat back in his chair.

Alex nodded and, damn it, he had to brush a damned tear off his lower eyelid before it got away from him. He grunted because remembering still hurt, then sucked in another breath and let the last of his own angst fizzle away. Luckily, Mark's intercom buzzed, and Everlee's voice came across with a bright and cheery, "Do you know where Alex is, Mark? His wife's here, and this place is too big to send Kelsey on a scavenger hunt looking for him."

"And she'd do that, too," Mark replied, his voice still devoid of his usual lighthearted humor. "Alex is with me and Shane. Send her in."

"Thanks, Mark!" Everlee's voice was muted as she must've turned and told Kelsey where her ornery husband was. Everlee came back with, "Great! She's on her way. Let me know how things go with Shane, will ya? I really like that guy. Just my opinion, but you'd be smart to hire him."

"Later, Ev," Mark replied, a definite tone of chastisement in his voice.

"Gotcha. Can't tell me anything, understood. My lips are sealed. Can't blame a girl for asking, though. Bye, big guy!"

Mark shook his head and rolled his eyes at her nosy enthusiasm, and Alex had to smile. Over the years, he'd unintentionally surrounded himself with positive go-getters. Like Mark and Everlee. And Kelsey. Knowing her, she'd probably been halfway to his office before Everlee had even disconnected.

Sure enough, Kelsey rapped on the door, then peeked in and said, "Oh, there you are."

Alex held out his arm and invited her to join them.

She came swiftly to his side with an anxious, "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

He stood. Putting one arm around her waist he admitted, "I am now. Kelsey, I'd like you to meet my newest hire, former USMC scout sniper, Sergeant Shane Hayes. Shane, this is my wife and the biggest blessing in my life, Kelsey."

Kelsey's eyes widened a fraction at hearing that name. Shane Hayes. She knew who he was, but she had the grace and good sense not to react or make things more difficult for the guy.

Shane and Mark were on their feet by then. Shane leaned around Alex, offered his hand to Kelsey, and said, "I can't tell you what an honor it is to meet you, Mrs. Stewart." Poor man's voice was still tight as shit, and if he stiffened that spine any farther, he'd make a good flagpole.

Kelsey untangled herself from Alex. Unlike him, she walked up to Shane, brushed his hand aside, and pulled him into a welcoming hug. Tipping up on her toes, she told him quietly, "I'm so glad to meet you, Shane. But you're so young. I thought you'd be an old troll like Alex, but you're just a baby."

The guy choked, but he didn't pull away from the amazing woman hanging onto him and patting his bulky shoulder, holding him close like his mother probably had once upon a different time. But when he squeezed his red-rimmed eyes tight, Alex gritted his teeth and turned away.

There. That thing Kelsey was doing right then was what Alex should've done in the first place. Instead of barking like a rabid dog, he should've welcomed Shane at first sight and let everything work itself out. He'd known most of what had happened the day of the accident, and he'd known the man behind the wheel of that delivery van had been barely out of high school, just a freshman at a local community college.

Until he'd seen Shane's name on Mark's roll of interviewees and prospective new-hires, Alex hadn't dug any further into his history. He hadn't realized until today that Shane had been dealt a devastating blow earlier the same morning, nor that he had no family to lean on afterward. Made Alex feel like an ass now for ever believing his loss was worse than Shane's. If anything, the pain and losses not yet dealt with in Shane's hard head were still eating him alive. Whereas Alex was whole and calm these days. Most days anyway. He could lend a no-kidding helping hand to this youngster. He just wished he'd done it sooner.

Alex shook his head, amazed he still had so far to go to be as good and kind as his wife. He was so damned thankful for Kelsey. Somehow, she'd smoothed over his jagged edges, at least made them less cutting. "I'm not a troll, damn it," he teased to lessen some of the sting he'd led with. "You ought to hire my wife as our welcoming committee, Mark. She's better at this than I am."

Shane licked his lips and released Kelsey, but she didn't step back, just kept looking up at him, holding his wrists like he was a little boy. Kelsey was like that. Alex knew damned well that she believed all men—didn't matter how scary-big they were, how mean they looked, or how many tattoos they had—were just little boys in grown-up disguises. That if she stood there long enough and looked hard enough, she'd see past the defensive mask Shane led with, to the hurting person behind it. There was no denying she was light-years ahead of Alex when it came to seeing through bullshit. His in particular.

Shane hadn't broken eye contact with her yet, but he kept blinking. Before the poor guy broke down, Alex tugged his wife away and settled her under his arm. At the same time, he extended his right hand in friendship. "Welcome to The TEAM, Shane," he said sincerely. "You're right, I know most of what happened that day. Just wasn't as prepared to meet you as I thought I was."

"Thank you. I think." Shane had a good strong handshake, but what Devil Dog didn't?

Alex felt stable again. With Kelsey at his side and the herbal scent of her shampoo in his nose, he was a better man. Her being here this morning sure as hell proved that.

Mark blew out a breath between his pursed lips. "You might as well know I was prepared to fight you for this guy, Boss. Congratulations. We've just hired one of the best."

"Well, of course we did. He's a Marine, isn't he?" Alex replied quickly. "Not sure if you've heard Mark's spiel already, but plan on staying the rest of the day, Shane. He'll show you around, introduce you to whichever other agents are in, maybe even take you over to the barns. You got a dog?"

Shane held up two fingers. "They're in the lobby with LT Yeager."

"Great. Harley's got a good set-up, complete with kennels for visitors if you'd rather not have them underfoot while you're working."

"You'll be perfect for this band of roughnecks, Shane," Kelsey added.

She hadn't taken her pretty, brown eyes off him, and Alex knew damned well she'd tuned into the guy's ragged emotions. Not like anyone could miss them. They were written all over his face. No doubt Kelsey had also homed in on the fact that Shane was alone in the world, that he just might need an invite to dinner. She had a knack for finding lost boys and bringing them home.

Alex beat her to it. "My place," he ordered his new hire. "Five pm sharp today. I know Kelsey, and I can see she'd love to cook for you."

"Err, but I've got—"

"Stuff to do. Yeah, yeah, I doubt that, and this is not a request. Let me show you what Stewart hospitality's really like." Alex knew he'd hit the mark the way his wife's eyes glistened.

Shane rubbed a hand up the back of his neck, a sure sign he was still stressed, that an invite to his boss's home might stress him out more. Well, too bad. He'd get over that as soon as Lexie climbed up onto his lap and ordered him to read her favorite book of the week to her.

Alex was finally understanding that life was just one beginning after another. Which unfortunately, also meant there were plenty of tear-filled endings between each of those awesome fresh starts. That was the key, the mystery, and the damned difference between living and living well. A guy had to learn the hard way how to weather painful endings before he could move on to his much-deserved new beginnings. Before he could find his Kelsey.

At last, Shane replied, "I'll be there. Thank you."

"You said you left your dogs with Lieutenant Yeager?" Alex teased. "With Everlee? The only TEAM member to sprain both ankles within months of each other?"

"And both on the job," Mark added playfully.

Shane's chest expanded with relief. "I didn't think bringing my girls into an interview with me would go over too well. Besides, they're smart," Shane replied, the barest smile curling the corners of his lips. "They might've kept Everlee from falling in the first place."

Alex nodded, suddenly aware he was seeing Shane through Kelsey's eyes. Shane was all man, and he'd been a damned good sniper. Alex knew that for certain. He had a copy of Shane's military records. But there was a whole lot of kid beneath the hard, manly fa?ade Shane led with. Reminded Alex of himself when he'd joined the Corps. He'd been straight out of high school, too.

"Well, go get them," he groused. "Bring your dogs to work with you, every day if you want. Other agents bring theirs. You might as well get used to having plenty of service dogs around. They're welcome in any section of the complex." He looked over at Mark. "Make sure he meets Harley. Maverick, too. Harley handles our Puppers-for-Vets program, Shane. Maverick runs the therapeutic riding program we offer for special needs children and vets, Everyone's a Cowboy ."

" Puppers-for-Vets ?" Shane asked.

"One of Harley's boys came up with the name," Kelsey explained. "Oh, just wait until you meet everyone." She clasped her hands together under her chin. "I think I'll serve roast beef, mashed potatoes, and gravy for dinner. Would you like that?"

He gave her a head nod. "Yes, ma'am, sure would. Been years since I've tasted home cooking."

"You're going to love it here," Kelsey replied, but Alex caught the drift in her voice. He'd bet odds she was thinking the same thing he was, that Shane's last home-cooked dinner had been when his mother was still alive.

Alex scrubbed a quick hand under his tie and over his heart, hurting for the pain he'd unintentionally caused this brave combat veteran. God, it was true. There was something to be learned every damned day.

Mark jerked his chin at his door. "Welcome aboard, Junior Agent. Let's get you oriented. I'll discuss TEAM benefits while we walk."

"Thanks, sure," Shane replied and then turned to Alex. "Thank you, too, Mr. Stewart."

Alex growled. No sense being lead dog if you couldn't keep the puppers in line.

"I meant, err…" The cords in Shane's neck worked until he finally spit out, "Thank you, Alex ."

"You bet. Welcome back. Better yet…" Alex grabbed Shane's hand and squeezed the hell out of it. "Welcome home."