Her Firefighter SEAL Read Online Free PDF

The ones that were so horrible that I had no choice but to come out before you defaced a perfectly fine house?”
    “Decoy paint,” he said cheerfully.
    Okay. He won.
    “You set me up.” She admired that. In high school, he’d been a practical joker, the guy who was always good for a laugh and a gag. Uncle Sam’s influence, getting older, the Afghanis who’d blown him up and then tied up what was left in a basement in Khost—whatever the reason, he’d changed. As fun as high school Kade had been, she liked the new man even more.
    He smoothed a new coat of paint onto the wall. The gray-green, she decided, fit her mood better and picked up on the colors of the outdoors, drawing her eyes out the window and over the forest. Winner, winner, chicken dinner.
    “Someone had to,” he said eventually. He paused on an upstroke, but before he could get out the next words forming in his mouth, a stretching pain down her side had her huffing out a breath.
    She’d known her body would change to accommodate Baby, but she hadn’t realized the makeover would be quite so constant. She rubbed her hand over the side of her stomach. No wonder women held childbirth over their kids’ heads for the next twenty or forty years.
    “Fuck.” He jammed the brush back in the can and crossed the room at light speed, hunkering down beside her and wrapping his fingers around hers. “What’s wrong?”
    “Ligament pain.” Plus her stomach itched like crazy. Pregnancy definitely had its ups and downs.
    He frowned. “Should I call a doctor? Take you to the hospital?”
    The pain eased up and she fought back a grin. “It’s normal. And gone now.”
    Apparently not convinced, he rubbed the spot gently. “Hurting isn’t normal.”
    “It is when you’re pregnant, and that was nothing.” She’d already heard a dozen childbirth horror stories from Laura Jo.
    “You shouldn’t be living alone.”
    Whoa. How had they gone from muscle pains to her living arrangements? “News flash. I’m a grown woman. It’s kind of a prerequisite for having a baby.”
    He hadn’t removed his hand, and she had to admit that it felt kind of nice. Okay. More than nice. But no matter how talented his fingers were, he didn’t get to tell her how to live her life.
    “What if you need something? What if you go into early labor?”
    Great. Stubborn Kade had taken up residence in her new house.
    “What if a grizzly bear breaks into my cottage and holds me hostage in the bathroom? I’ll deal with it. I have a cell phone.”
    He pulled his hand away and rocked back on his heels. “Abbie—”
    She knew that look. That tone. It was the “poor thing, she’s a widow and she must be nonfunctional” tone. And while it had been true, it wasn’t anymore. She was picking up the pieces of her life, and she was moving on. Sort of. It wasn’t as if she could freeze-frame her pregnancy. The baby was coming at the end of nine months, and it didn’t matter how much she wished Will were here.
    “No,” she said. “Paint or leave. Those are your only two choices right now.”
    “I didn’t ask a question,” he pointed out.
    “You were going to.” She wasn’t lucky enough that he’d be the one person in Strong who didn’t want to tell her how he was there for her, how he felt for her loss. She’d kind of hoped that being former high school sweethearts would make condolences too awkward, but no such luck. She was tired of words, tired of talking. Talking didn’t help. It only made her realize what— who —she’d lost. Will hadn’t been perfect, but he had been hers.
    “Since you’ve acquired mad mind-reading skills, help me out here. Give me more words.”
    Goody. She’d pissed him off. His voice was hard and flat, but the concern was gone. “ You’re alone out there. You’re a widow. You shouldn’t be alone. You should have someone to help you. Pick one. I’ve heard them all.”
    He shook his head. “Help isn’t a bad thing.”
    She pointed to his