Divorce papers? Fucking hell.
Jacob Sanders drove off the Dam Neck base and onto the highway, determined to put a quick end to this bullshit.
How long had that shit been sitting in his inbox? Couldn’t the Navy at least notify him when his wife was about to divorce his ass?
Jacob mentally calculated how long he’d been away on deployment. Christ. Three months in Iraq, two in France, then home for two days before his team went wheels up to Syria. Goddammit that had been what … shit, six months ago? He had lost track.
He blew out a frustrated breath as he pulled out from behind a slow moving truck.
Whatever it was, however long it’d been, he and Danika had an agreement. She was an officer’s wife and knew who he was when she married him. He was a SEAL and his career meant everything. His team was everything. He’d had to put them first over the past ten years in order to be the type of leader to meet his own aspirations and have his team maintain mad respect for him. A divorce? What the fuck, Danika. What. The. Fuck!
He gripped the steering wheel, pulling around another truck.
His marriage, now a bleak separation from his wife was equally as important, though. Danika and his five boys meant the fucking world to him. She knew that. They were what he fought for. Protected. Treasured. So when his wife, after eight years of marriage, had broken down under the pressure, he had belligerently allowed a separation.
He fucking hated every minute of it but had no choice after Danika dug in. He couldn’t fight with her forever.
Jacob blasted his horn when a car pulled in front of him.
They decided that Danika would keep the boys. He left the house and stayed on base. When it was his time to see them, he stayed with them at the house while Danika left. It was the best way to make sure the boys were the least affected by their problems. Keeping them in the house meant the same schools, same friends, same everything they’d always known, and the adults going back and forth instead of the other way around, kept the boys adjusted as they soldiered on.
He was so fuckin’ proud of his kids.
Now she wanted a divorce? No way. No fucking way. He would not lose his family. She could walk away from him over his dead body.
Jacob glared out the windshield. What the hell was with all the traffic? He checked the time, then his rear-view mirror. He looked like shit. He hadn’t shaved in days, needed a haircut bad, and sported enough dark circles and bags under his eyes to rival a raccoon. Because he was out in the sun most of his last deployment, his brown hair looked blond, his brown eyes bleak, like he was some kind of strung-out surfer in need of food and sleep.
He looked away from his sorry-ass reflection and back at the road.
He and Danika had an understanding, dammit, and he had stuck to it even though he fucking hated it. He stayed on base when not with the boys, and she went … who the fuck knew? It fucking pissed him off that she never told him where she was staying, but he backed off asking and gave her the space she had requested.
“Jacob, you take off on deployment and I have no idea where you are. I can only reach you by phone if I’m lucky. If you want to get a hold of me during your time with the boys, call my cell.”
Jesus Christ. Her fucking space was now a goddamn chasm. Why did he let her get away with that?
Because you fucking love her and don’t want to lose her, and you would’ve done anything to make sure she didn’t walk away for good.
Fuck. Jacob sped past a car.
He was done appeasing her. He’d given her everything she asked for. Now, this. Space. Time. More fucking space. He’d given in and given her everything he could think of to keep her from completely leaving with his boys, and still, she wanted a fucking divorce? Goddamn him if he even knew why.
He glanced down at the package of papers beside him. Pictured them on fire. Burning to ashes that he’d bury out back behind his house. Or he could just toss them out the window, and let ’em land in a swamp.
Divorce papers? What fucking divorce papers? I never got any goddamned fucking divorce papers.
He pulled off the highway and headed through the downtown core. In minutes, he was driving up into the hills of the neighborhood he’d grown up in. He passed St. Augustine’s church, the centuries’ old place he had tripped home from every Sunday his whole childhood. He married the love of his life there in front of fourteen-hundred of his closest friends, family and SEAL team brothers. It had been beautiful. She’d been beautiful. The best goddamn day of his life next to every day he spent with her on their honeymoon in the Maldives. She had walked down the aisle to him in a dress made for a fairy-tale princess.
Danica. His Black-American princess. She promised to be his for life.
He’d wanted her to be his for life for so long that he’d knocked her up on their wedding night. He’d never been so horny or determined to do anything before in his life–coming inside of her, on her and back inside of her all night. Once she had surrendered her virginity, he couldn’t leave her alone and was inside her all night, over and over until they were both exhausted. He’d tired her out by morning, but when he got called out to deploy, four days into their honeymoon, he left completely satisfied she was replete with his seed, marked, and with his baby already growing inside her womb. It was his best fucking work. Literally.
He’d wanted Danika the first day he’d seen her on campus. He was already a SEAL delivering some shit to the College for the Navy when he spotted her sitting at a table with her nose in a book. He asked her where he could get a cup a coffee and she didn’t even look up at him, just nodded toward the Starbucks and pushed her empty cup his way.
He brought her another cup, and in less than a year she became Mrs. Jacob Sanders. He gave her everything that belonged to him—his name, and his family’s estate. He was his parents’ sole heir, and after they died there was nothing he couldn’t afford. Everything he had he gave to his wife. His queen. The mother of his children. Where the fuck had he gone wrong?
He never got tired of knocking her up. Watching her belly grow and get all soft with his kid inside of her always made him hard and horny as all fucking hell. He was one of those men who loved his woman pregnant and endeavored to keep her that way as much as possible. Every chance he got over the past eight years, he was on her and in her, coming as hard as he could.
What the hell had he done to deserve a fucking divorce? They agreed, no divorce. She had to know he’d never sign those goddamn fucking papers. He’d never agree to tear their family apart. The past year of separation had pushed him far enough. Did she now want to shove him over the edge? Because her little bundle of papers had just fucked their already fucked situation even more.
Jacob pulled his truck around his family’s estate driveway and got out. In seconds, he slid the key into the lock and slammed open his front door.
He blinked in shock.
What new fucking Hell was this now?
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