I’ll be honest with you—I’m not perfect.
Sure, I live my life by the code. Honor, integrity, loyalty. I’m a lover, I’m a fighter. There’s a line we say in BUD/S: Clarity is in the eyes, love is in the heart, and fear is in the mind. I’m a mother fucking Navy SEAL—I’m invincible, invaluable, infallible. But behind all the machismo and hype, I’m a simple man . . . all I really want is a woman to claim as mine.
A summer affair—washed away with the ebb and flow of the tides. I met her on dog beach—flowing red hair, full breasts, hypnotic scent. After we made love in the sand, I pretended that she was mine forever—that she would be faithful while I was gone, supportive of my career, loving to my daughter.
But we’d built our relationship on lies—I’d never told her I was a SEAL, she’d kept her past hidden from me. She’d had a man, if you could call him that. He was cruel, abusive, controlling. She’d fled, determined to start a new life, but he’d found her, and would stop at nothing to get her back—dead or alive.
But he didn’t count on meeting me. I am the person who everyone knows will lay down my life for someone else. Failure is not an option. I lived by the sword, would die by the sword.
I may not be perfect, but I am perfect for her.