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“Congratulations! How does it feel to join all us married me?” Joe asked as he stepped in beside Eric and then kissed Abby on her cheek. “And you, welcome to the family.”

“Are you all right?” Eric asked her, as she didn’t reply to Joe.

She smiled up at Eric and stepped closer to him, allowing him to pull her close, as was his right as her husband. “I’m fine.”

Julian clapped his hands together. “Okay, one more thing. I need signatures on the marriage certificate, and then I’ve got to run.”

Eric took the pen and scribbled his name. He handed Abby the pen and indicated with his finger where she should sign, and she did so in nice neat loops. Joe and the doc both signed as witnesses. Then Eric
was handed the certificate, and the three men left. When he stared back at Abby, he could see the whirlwind he’d just put her through, despite the fact that she was now his. No man would ever have the right to touch her again.

She fiddled with the ring on her finger and acted nervous, as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands or where to look.

Eric stepped closer and slid his hands over her shoulders. He held her, and she looked up at him. “Don’t be nervous with me,” he said. “I know you just had a baby. Nothing will happen here.”

She frowned. “What do you mean, nothing will happen? I’m your wife. Don’t you want me?”

He couldn’t believe she had even thought that. “Abby, of course I do, but you’re not ready. Come sit down.” He took her hand and led her to the sofa.

“Eric, I know you told me to trust you, and I do, but why do I feel as if you married me out of duty?”

He held both her hands in his as he sat on the edge of the sofa beside her. She was staring at both his hands, and when she met his gaze, he said, “Abby, for the past week, I’ve been battling with headquarters. The CIA has been trying to track Seyed.”

At the mention of the man’s name, Abby tensed, and he could swear she was trembling inside, because she was no good at hiding her deep feelings, and the fear always slammed into her at mock speed, so
much like it would with a soldier suffering from PTSD. He tried to protect her, and she fought it. He was so proud of her for how strong she was.

“They wanted you and Rachel at the base in Bahrain.” When he hesitated, she squeezed his hands and slid closer to him. “The only way for me to prevent that was as your husband. They won’t be able to touch you now.”

“So this was all business, then, for you. What am I, a cause you’ve taken up because you saved me? Do you feel you need to chain yourself to me for life? What a fool I am! For a minute, I thought you cared for me, that you wanted to marry me.”

“Abby, stop it. Of course I wanted to marry you,” he snapped.

“You wanted to marry me to protect me. Am I not right?”

Eric was feeling cornered because she was twisting his good
intentions, and he didn’t like anyone questioning him. He’d asked her to trust him, and now she wasn’t.

“So you married me out of some sense of obligation.” Her voice caught.

“Abby, I married you to keep you and Rachel safe.” Why couldn’t she understand how important it was to keep her safe?

Nodding, she was unable to keep a lone tear from escaping down her cheek. She yanked her hand from his and swiped angrily at it with the back of a hand. “I would like to thank you, then,
for Rachel, for wanting to protect her.” She refused to look at him; she stared across the room at his desk.

She tried to yank her other hand away, but he wouldn’t let it go, so she let it relax limply in his, as if removing herself another way. He finally let her go, and she wrapped her arms around her middle and just stared off.

She sat there unmoving, as if she’d just shut down, until Rachel whimpered. When she got up and walked away to her baby, she shut the door behind her. Eric did the only thing he could do: He got up and left. He wandered the ship the rest of the day, snapping at anyone who tried to congratulate him until everyone started avoiding him. It was almost midnight when he returned to his cabin. Abby was curled up in his bed, fully clothed, cuddling her baby next to her. “My wife, my child,” he whispered.

He wanted nothing more than to lie down beside her and pull all that warm softness into his arms, but she was hurt and she hated him. She had misread everything, twisting what he’d done for her as if it meant nothing, and that hurt. Didn’t she know how much he cared for her? He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t go there yet and give her that kind of power over him by admitting that he loved her. He did not know when it happened, when he’d fallen in love with Abby. With Rachel, it had been
at the moment she was born, as he watched her lying there, so safe and soft. He knew he had fallen in love with Abby the moment he saw her lying on the deck of his ship, battered and bruised, alone, as if she’d been sent to him to save him.

This was his wedding night. They
should be wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing thoughts, dreams. Sadness tore through him. He quietly covered them with a blanket, stopping to take a last look and somehow resisting the urge to lean down and kiss Abby’s round, soft cheek. He didn’t want to wake her, to see the hurt reflecting in her eyes, so he quietly gathered some clothes and personal items, jamming them in a bag. He tossed it over his shoulder and stole out into the night, passing one sailor in the passageway who gasped but said nothing, and he stomped into Joe’s cabin, where he knew there was a pullout couch.

Early the next morning, Eric strode onto the bridge of the ship, feeling the vessel’s surge of power beneath his feet. He spoke as little as possible, not that he was ever chatty, but he did only what he needed. He reviewed the report from the intelligence officer from the night watch, received an update from the operations officer, and snapped at anyone who got in his way. He
kept reliving last night and Joe’s startled face, his “What the fuck are you doing, Eric?” response as he’d bolted straight up in bed.

Eric had dumped his gear in the corner, pulled out the sofa bed, and lain down without saying one word. His friend swore again under his breath and soon went back to sleep, but Eric stared into darkness, his gut twisted and knotted, until finally, at dawn, he showered and left a sleeping Joe.

“Did you sleep at all?” Joe said in a low voice as he appeared beside Eric.

Eric grunted.

“Got time for breakfast, Captain?”

“Grabbed something already.”
Eric refused to look at him because he knew damn well Joe was doing what he did with every sailor, trying to find out what was wrong and help him fix it. But Eric didn’t anyone, not even Joe, anywhere in his business, so he handed the report to the chief as he came onto the bridge. “Not now” was all Eric said as he strode off.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he could hear Joe’s heavy footsteps right behind him, and he walked faster, stepping through the hatch on deck as wind flicked his short hair. The spray of the sea washed the deck, and Eric moved straight for the side.

“What happened?” Joe asked again. He was like a pit bull who just wouldn’t go away. He hung on; he dug in.

“Fuck, Joe, can’t you take the hint?”

“Eric, you just married the woman that knocked you flat on your ass and has had you googly eyed and acting like a stupid ass. Everyone on this ship knows you’ve fallen hard for her, yet here you are, spending your wedding night with me, your XO. While I should be flattered…”

“You’re such an ass.” Eric stared out onto the water. “You know, I should have expected it. It did seem almost too good to be true.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Joe leaned his back against the rail.

“I told her the truth, that I married her to protect her and Rachel. That CIA wanted
her, and the only way to keep her from them was for her to be my wife. I asked her to trust me. I thought she did, but it’s obvious I was mistaken. I have no idea what’s wrong, but she pulled away, turned her back on me.”

Joe thrust his hands through his hair. “You told her what?”

Eric could do no more than shrug one shoulder.

“You really can be a stupid ass sometimes. You didn’t tell her how you feel about
her? You need to go back in there and talk to her.”

“No, she doesn’t want to hear anything I have to say,”
Eric said.

****

Over the next few weeks, Eric managed to keep busy by burying himself in work. High-seas hostilities had been building for months, with heavily armed speedboats darting near the US ships. They were taunting them. Seyed was always in the back of Eric’s mind, an enemy he hated, and he wondered if that cowardly animal was in one of the boats out there. Did he know this was where Abby was, where Rachel was? He knew the CIA still hadn’t located him, as the man had all but disappeared. Time ticked like a timer on a bomb as he waited, and he knew that soon, she would have to leave, but right now, while she was here, he could look in on her at night. Although Abby consumed each thought, the only way he could get through each day was by personally taking charge and leading the boarding of a few ships. Joe had nearly lost it the last time, yelling at him that he was the captain, that he was not to be taking these risks, that he had a ship to lead and couldn’t get himself killed.

But
he wouldn’t listen to Joe. Even the danger that spiked his adrenaline and kept him on his toes couldn’t distract him from Abby and the realization that she may soon ask to leave just to get away from him. The sooner he came to grips with it, the better off he would be.

“Captain, the XO sent me to find you. He said the admiral just arrived and he needs to see you right now. He’s in your cabin.”

Petey stood before Eric, who had been overseeing the replacement of the refrigeration system in the kitchen. His hands were covered in grease, and he quickly scrubbed them at the sink, then buttoned up his shirt and brushed at the black stain on the front. He rolled his sleeves down as he strode down the passageway up the ladder, Petey right behind him.

“What the hell? How in the hell did the admiral even get on board without me knowing? Dammit. Anyway, this
whole damn ship is falling apart. Everyone is doing whatever the hell they want, and a helicopter lands just like that. What the hell is everyone doing, holding up a welcome sign, ‘Just show up whenever the hell you feel like it’?” He knew he was ranting, but Petey did what he always did, kept his mouth shut and followed.

Eric flew through his cabin door, prepared to face the admiral, and nearly
crapped his pants as a thunderbolt shot right through him. Abby stood beside the round table in a red dress that stopped just above her knees, with thin straps showing a hint of her generous, plump breasts. When Petey poked his head around Eric’s arm, Eric turned and shoved him back. “You, out,” he said. Then he closed the door behind him.

Eric leaned against the door and drank in Abby’s beautiful long blond hair hanging straight down to her waist. She wore nothing on her feet or legs, and then she walked straight toward him, holding out her hand and watching him with baby blue eyes filled with such tenderness. For the life of him, he couldn’t get his legs to move, not
one step, until she was right in front of him, still holding out her hand. Then something in his brain kick started, and he slid his hand in hers, feeling the ring he gave her. Holding up her hand, he noticed the tape she had added to make it fit.

“Eric, I’m so sorry.… I love you.” She seemed to study him and wait, and he could see the worry flicker across her face. Maybe she thought he’d reject her.
But how could he? He was still stuck on what she’d said.

“Say it again.”

She looked as if she didn’t understand. “Say what again?” Then it was as if it clicked, and she knew what he wanted—no, what he needed—to hear. “Eric, I love you more than my next breath, more than the sun that rises each morning. With you not here with me, with Rachel, and this…” She took a breath. “I need you. We need you.”

Eric jammed his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, sliding his mouth over hers. With some reluctance, he pulled away, looking up to see a faint glow coming from behind her. There were two lit candles on the table with what looked like two covered plates.

“I hope this is okay. I wanted to plan something special for you…for us, for tonight.”

A blush crept up her face, and he took in the scene before him. Lifting her chin with a finger, he held it until, slowly, she looked up to meet his gaze. Then, lowering his face, he tenderly gave her a deep kiss when the reality of her inexperience hit him. It was nothing they had ever discussed in detail. Women of this generation rarely, if ever, came to a relationship untouched by another man.
But after what she’d been through, he wondered if he could even touch her tonight.

“Abby, I want to make love to you tonight, but I don’t want to hurt you. Would you let me touch you?”

“I want you, all of you. Yes, please touch me. You could never hurt me,” she said. He leaned down to kiss her, but before his lips touched hers, she whispered, “Dinner, how about dinner first?”

He pulled back and stared down, and he wondered if maybe she needed time or if she was nervous. He took her hand and let her lead him to the table.