He glanced toward the window where sunlight pooled on the sill, the memory of the rescue still sharp in his mind. “What I saw on that beach changed everything. The way they moved, the way they worked together. They were past exhaustion, but they never quit. I don’t just want to know men like that. I want to be one of them.”
M&M’s breath caught. “But what about college?”
Flynn’s chest rose and fell too quickly as he pressed his eyes shut a moment. “That’s a dead subject for me right now. College would be easy, and easy’s not what I want. I like to use my head, but I need my body in the fight too. SEALs push every part of themselves, mind, muscle, heart. That’s what I want. I know this scares you, thinking about me in combat, but tell me what’s worse. Me miserable in a suit, chasing money, or me doing something that makes me feel alive?”
Clint rubbed a hand over his jaw, the lines around his mouth deepening. “This doesn’t surprise me, boy. I always knew you’d reach farther than the fences around you. I just didn’t want to admit we’d have to share you with the world so soon.”
“I’m still yours,” Flynn said quickly. “I love you both so much. You’re my world. But this is my life, and it’s calling to me louder than anything ever has. I know I’m only seventeen, and I can’t enlist without your permission. But let me learn. Let me train. Let me find out if it’s really who I am.”
Clint looked to his wife. “Margaret Mary?”
She drew in a shaky breath, rose, then sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were full of pride and grief all at once. “You’re our heartbeat, Flynn. We raised you as best we could after your folks were gone. You’re the only piece of my boy I have left.” Her fingers tightened around his. “The thought of losing you out there on some foreign shore would break me. But I’d rather break knowing you’re living the life you’re meant to live than keep you safe and watch you wither.”
Her voice faltered, but she managed a small, watery smile. “If this is your dream, then we’ll stand behind you. I may never sleep easy again, but I’ll pray hard. That’s my bargain.”
Flynn swallowed the lump in his throat, tears burning behind his eyes. “That’s all I need. I’ll make you proud.”
M&M leaned forward and gathered him carefully into her arms, mindful of the bruises. She smelled like soap and the faint lavender lotion she’d used his whole life. Her embrace was fierce despite the tremor in her hands. He tightened his good arm around her, pressing his face against her shoulder, breathing in home.
When she pulled back, he caught her hand, squeezing it tight between his. “You and Clint are everything good in me.”
She blinked fast, the corners of her mouth quivering. “You’re too much like your father for my comfort,” she whispered. “Stubborn as sin. Brave as the day is long.”
Flynn managed a watery grin. “Guess it runs in the family.”
He looked past her to Clint, who stood a step back, arms crossed, eyes shining in that quiet way of a man who’d already said everything he needed to. Their gazes met, a look that said I get it, son. Go make us proud. Clint gave the smallest nod. Man to man.
Flynn felt something settle in his chest, solid and sure. He’d become a man in those waves, in that IBS, on that shore, with men who were doing something greater than themselves. Home? He had the feeling that glimpse of brotherhood would settle into a kind of home he’d never known. The catch? The Navy would ask for his whole soul, the water would be his office, and those men would ask for everything, and he was ready to give it.
M&M brushed his hair back, the gesture as gentle as when he was a boy. “You already do, Flynn Patrick. Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Never stop coming home.”
He nodded, voice rough. “Never.”
Into the charged silence, the door opened.
Three men filled the frame, broad-shouldered, sunburned, still carrying the ocean on them. The one in front had hair the color of caramel, damp from the rain, a grin as quick as it was tired.
“Hope we’re not interrupting,” he said, a hint of Irish mischief threading through the words. “Heard our boy who tried to take on the Pacific woke up.”
M&M rose, startled. “You’re the ones who found him?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The man inclined his head. “Cormac Kavanagh, Boat Crew Two. Most folks call me Shamrock.”
He gestured to the blond beside him, still raw around the eyes but smiling. “This menace here’s Indigo Fisher…Bolt.”
Bolt lifted a hand. “Glad to see you’re breathing, kid. Gave us all a scare.”
The third man stepped forward, quieter, a uniform shirt thrown over fatigue pants. His presence filled the room without sound.
“Petty Officer Dakota Locklear,” he said simply. “Bear.”
“Bear,” Flynn echoed, the name fitting him perfectly. He looked at all of them. “I owe you more than I can say.”
Shamrock waved him off. “Just glad we were close enough to help. You made it worth the paddle.”
