Make Mine a Ranger (Special Ops: Homefront Book 4) by Kate Aster Page A

school, and get her college
degree. My mom’s strong like you. Nothing stops her from making sure her kids
have a good life.”
    Bess sank into the sofa. “Is that why
you’re so good with Abby? You’re used to having a little kid in the house.”
    With a careless shrug, he sat beside her.
“Abby’s a great kid. It’s easy to have her around. But yeah, having a kid
around doesn’t exactly seem foreign to me.”
    A realization struck Bess. “That’s why
you stayed with me in the hospital that day when Abby was born. Even after
Lacey and Maeve showed up. You stayed all through my labor. I reminded you of
your sister.”
    “Maybe. Don’t know really. It just seemed
the right thing to do.”
    It all made so much more sense to her. Tyler
treated Abby and her so well because he felt sorry for them. If it had been
anyone else, Bess would have felt insulted, or at the very least, defensive. But
for some reason, it didn’t bother her with him. She glanced his way. “You’re
right, you know.”
    “About what? I’m right so seldom, I want
to mark this day in my calendar.”
    Bess smiled. “I do need to get stronger. I’ve
gotten so out of shape since I was pregnant. I’ve embraced motherhood, one fat fold
at a time.”
    Shaking his head, Tyler frowned. “Don’t
say that. You look like a woman. I won’t let you step foot in that room again
if your ambition is to look like some photoshopped model who has the hips of a
ten-year-old boy. But if you want to get strong—that I’ll get behind.”
    Bess glanced at the room with its intimidating
equipment, and felt the strange urge to conquer it, even if she might need to
ask for a defibrillator for her next birthday.
    “You know,” Tyler began, standing up, “if
you ever want to go to the gym with me in the evenings, you’re welcome to. I
can get you a few visitor passes to try it out. There’s even a child care room
Abby would probably love.”
    “Isn’t it on base? I can’t go there
without a military ID.”
    “Not that one. I show up there at zero-five-hundred
in the morning. I don’t think you’d be interested in that.”
    “No doubt.”
    “Some evenings and Saturday mornings, I
go to an MMA gym off base. You know, mixed martial arts. Brazilian jujitsu. Grappling.
Cage fights. That sort of thing. They’ve got some women’s classes, too. Something
to think about.”
    Bess cracked a smile at the thought of
herself in a mixed martial arts gym trying to take down an opponent the way she
had seen in the fights Tyler would watch on TV after Abby had gone to bed.
    Bess Foster. In a cage fight.
    Nope. Not in this lifetime.

Chapter Five
     
    Bess loved Saturday mornings. There was
no racing to get ready for work and rush Abby off to day care which, now that it
was September, was referred to as “preschool” as some kind of justification to
charge more.
    Tyler, a creature of habit, always spent
the morning at the gym or out on his paddleboard till at least nine o’clock. This
meant Bess could hang out around the house braless in her rattiest old t-shirt
and pajama shorts without feeling the slightest hint of shame or modesty.
    Waking up at six, Bess had at least an
hour of peace until Abby woke up. Eyeing the kitchen that awaited her as she
opened the living room shades to the morning light, she wondered what recipe
she’d pick out today. Something that involved a little more prep time, as
always. Saturday mornings were perfect for baking, the extra minutes of freedom
spent kneading and watching dough rise. She never had time for that on
weekdays.
    Pinwheel rolls. That’s what she’d make this
morning. Abby’s favorite breakfast treat—the kind that oozed out cinnamon
and butter, and were glazed with white frosting that dribbled over the edges. Tyler
would love a few of those when he came home from his workout.
    His workout, she thought, her eyes drifting
to the room with the equipment that she hadn’t dared to touch since that night she
thought she