Page 1 of Sworn to Defend
Prologue
Lately, Hunter “Branch” Green dreamed in golds and reds. Straight flames of silk framing an oval face. Smooth skin adorned with gilded flecks, like stars tossed across a desert sky. Small, agile hands. Lungs that breathed life, raising the dead. Hannah Day was a selfless soul that burst into chaos. A petite powerhouse confident to take charge as a flight medic. A mother who raised her son with fierce independence. A woman who seized his mind, holding it hostage since the moment his gaze locked on her, knocking him back with pivotal force. Her autistic son, Collin, was never far from his mind, either. How he viewed and processed the nuances of the world with all of its sound, light, and color was fascinating and, at times, overwhelming for the teen. He had a deep respect for how Collin navigated his environment with palpable joy and genuinely loved spending time with the kid.
“Go time.”
A weight clenched his shoulder, and he went from his hazy daydreams to instantly alert. The helicopter thrummed with power, vibrating around him. Only a few weeks after returning from a two-week mission, they’d gotten called out again. Two American humanitarian aid workers had been taken hostage in Ethiopia, and they were being sent in for extraction. Heavy sandbags were tossed from the helo, anchoring the thick rope in place so their team of four could fast-rope to the ground. The rotor whirred overhead as he mounted the rope, straightened his legs, and slid. His hands would be skinned to the bone without the heavy gloves protecting his palms. When he was halfway down, he spotted movement in tall patches of grass dispersed over the plains.
A second later, all hell broke loose. The Blackhawk carrying them laid down cover, picking off some of the shooters, but it wasn’t enough to shield Branch. He’d take stock of his injuries when he reached the ground, and their team got to safety. He’d been hit twice, both grazes. His body jolted with the impact of another hit, and the split-second distraction caused his boot to slip. He tightened his grip, but the force of the blow knocked him off-balance, and he was free-falling the remaining twenty feet to the ground.
Images of Hannah and Collin flashed through his mind like a movie reel. If he survived the gunshot wounds and the drop, there was no way he would waste another second asking Hannah Day on a date. With her profession and stark independence, that feat might be easier said than done. He might be the most affable and congenial member of his team, but once he set his mind to something, he was stubborn as hell.
Chapter One
Hannah Day thanked the administrative assistant at the hospital desk and took purposeful strides toward the elevator. Knowing that Hunter, or Branch, as many of his friends called him, was back in the United States after spending over two weeks recovering overseas had made for a long twenty-four-hour shift. In between every callout, her mind was on Hunter. She punched the button for the third floor and dug some sanitizer out of her purse. Okay, not a purse. A fanny pack. It wasn’t exactly the height of fashion, but it was practical, as was the sanitizer. As a single mom, getting sick wasn’t an option, and she worked with critically ill patients who needed air transport, not additional germs.
She drew in a deep breath when she arrived at the unit that would be Hunter’s home away from home until the hospital staff deemed him ready to leave. Antiseptic mingled with the scent of bleach and the boiled contents of dinner trays. She scanned the room numbers on the wall. B103. Her heart clutched. She hadn’t known Hunter for long, had met him through her son Collin’s best friend, Jacob, whose brother happened to be a SEAL, and her friend Brynn’s fiancé. Through Collin, she had met a group of genuine people who were the closest thing she had to friends in a long time.
She lifted her hand and knocked softly. If he was awake, it would alert him to her presence; if not, the slight sound wouldn’t disturb him. For some inexplicable reason, she needed to lay eyes on the man who had made her stop and take pause. Reassess how she lived her life and realize how closed off she’d become. She had her reasons, of course, but for the first time, she’d let herself lean on someone just a bit. Now, it was time to offer him support.
“Come in.” His voice sounded hoarse through the door, but it was unmistakably his. Such an intoxicating combination of gruff masculinity and lightness. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear his voice or how struck she’d been by his accident.
“Forget something, or did you miss me already?” He chuckled, a gravelly sound that emanated through the tiny crack in the door. Someone else must’ve just left his room. She’d never heard the guys, her girlfriends, or Hunter himself mention a woman in his life, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. There was an uncomfortable twinge in her chest, and she absently bit her bottom lip. This was stupid. She was here for Hunter to make sure he was okay, not because of the weird crush she harbored. One she didn’t have time to do anything about. The door to his room squeaked as she pushed it open. She stood on the threshold, heart pounding, taking him in. Hunter was propped up against a pillow, gauze wraps binding wounds on his head. He glanced over, and his eyes widened.
“Hannah.” The lightness in his tone was gone, replaced by something more profound, more intimate.
“You’re okay.” She didn’t recognize the tight squeak of her voice, but her throat had constricted. This strong SEAL, a born protector who spent his free time helping to host a Halloween party for teens who had disabilities, who made a sensory room in the basement of the house for her son and his friends, had no business being harmed. He was good to his core—he didn’t deserve the long recovery ahead.
“I’m okay,” he confirmed and lifted his hand, ushering her closer. The metal feet of the chair scraped over the tile as she pulled it to his bedside. “More so now.”
Those last three words had nerves sparking in her stomach. God, she was terrible at this. Interacting with a man she liked far more than she should. She’d always been a duck out of water, especially among the swans that were her mother and sisters. “It took me longer to get here than I wanted. I’m sorry. I know I’m probably the last to visit, but everyone’s kept me posted, and I—”
“Have two important jobs—mom, medic, and everything in between.” She might’ve thought she was being mocked if anyone else said it, but not Hunter. Sincerity rode along the timbre of his words, just as his deep chocolate eyes held just the right mix of concern and respect. She could absolutely get lost in the warm, melted depths. “I only got here last night. I never imagined you’d be able to come as soon as you did. It’s good to see you, Hannah.”
She’d never get used to the shiver of pleasure that rolled through her when he spoke her name. “Not as good as it is to see you. You scared us.” Scared her. Made her face the fact that she’d developed feelings for the sweet and sincere SEAL, even if it couldn’t go anywhere. Her life wasn’t exactly conducive to relationships.
“How’s Collin doing?”
Hearing her son’s name made her smile until she remembered how his eyes filled when she told him about Hunter. She glanced down at her hands, trying to compose herself before meeting his gaze. “I told him you’d been hurt. That the doctors were doing their very best to help you get better. He was devastated when he heard.” She released a shuddery breath and unzipped the pack around her waist. When her friend Brynn told her about the accident, she hadn’t been able to suck in a breath. Realizing she’d have to tell Collin the man he idolized was hurt was even worse. She fumbled with the folded piece of paper and presented it to Hunter. “He’s been drawing pictures for you.”
Hunter’s fingertips brushed against hers as they exchanged the drawing, sending a current flickering over her skin. He took the paper and began unfolding it. Hands so huge shouldn’t be able to open something with such delicacy or care. How many times had she marveled over their differences in size? She was shorter than most at an inch over five feet. She had strong arms and muscled calves honed by the demands of her job and not a gym. She’d always been stocky but Hunter stood about a foot taller than her, making her feel almost delicate.
“Please tell him as soon as I’m out of the hospital, I’m framing this for my wall.” A myriad of emotions played over his face, but the one that shone brighter than the rest was love. Collin had formed an instant bond with Hunter, and until today, seeing with her own eyes he was going to be okay, she was terrified that link would be severed. “His memory is nothing short of amazing,” Hunter said, shaking his head in disbelief. He angled the drawing toward her, and she leaned in to get a better look. They were making pizzas together. An activity they’d shared on several occasions. “Remembered all my favorite toppings and colors.” His voice was closer now, even though his tone had dropped. Her breathing spiked. She wanted to do nothing more than lift her chin and find his lips hovering over hers. Instead, she kept talking.
“I’m not surprised. He remembers everything about you.”
“Well, seems like I’ve got a few lives left. I’ll be in the kitchen making pizza with him in no time.” His low chuckle brought the pent-up fear and anxiety of the last weeks rushing to the surface.
“You’re not a freaking cat, Hunter. You’re a man who can bleed and die. A man we’ve gotten to know over the past six months. One that means a great deal to my son.” And to me. She couldn’t speak the words. She’d been on her own so long now she didn’t have the first clue how to open up. And if she did and Hunter didn’t feel the same? That would spell disaster for her in their circle of friends. Truly belonging was a heady feeling, especially growing up as an outcast in an affluent family.
He sobered instantly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t joke.” He stroked his palm over her hair, so light, just the barest weight, yet the feelings the simple touch evoked were heavy and fast.
“You could’ve died.” Her voice was barely a whisper over the beeping monitors.
Hunter leaned back against the pillow. “The team had my back.”
Thank God for that. The strength of his team was unquestionable, and still, what they did day in and day out held extreme risk. “Do you remember what happened?” she asked. Bruises ran down his arms and over his face. There were various cuts along his cheeks and over his left brow. A sick sensation made her stomach roll. How did her two friends, who were engaged to Hunter’s teammates, handle the stress when they got called out on a mission?
“We were fast-roping to the ground. I was about twenty feet from having my boots hit the dirt when the shooting started. I felt a few grazes and made the mistake of trying to move faster. Lost my footing and fell the rest of the way. Joker hauled me back up. That’s who I thought was at the door when you knocked. He’s been complaining about my poor balance multiple times a day. I don’t remember anything after hitting the ground, but I know who I was thinking of after the first bullet hit. When I didn’t think I had a prayer.”