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Even Enzo chuckled at that, breaking the last of the tension. Hazel patted Burke’s chest and pulled away. “All right, everyone. Hot chocolate or decaf coffee before you all start measuring testosterone levels?”

That earned a round of laughter.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, with everyone holding a steaming mug, the air filled with the comforting scents of cocoa and roasted beans. Ashley sat on the sofa, with a dog curled up on either side of her. The men had found common ground by the window—talking quietly about military service, old deployments, the strange kinship that came from seeing too much and surviving it. Daniel’s respect for Burke and Enzo showed plainly, and they seemed to have settled into a wary but genuine camaraderie.

In the kitchen, Hazel and Polly stirred the hot chocolate in their mugs. The sound of spoons against ceramic was steady, companionable.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Hazel asked softly. Her green eyes—so much like Polly’s—searched her daughter’s face. “You’ve always been my quiet, introspective daughter. I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.”

Polly nodded, then hesitated. “I’m fine. I think so anyway. I’m scared sometimes, but Daniel…he helps. He makes me feel safe again.”

Hazel smiled. “Then he’s already doing something right.”

Polly took a shaky breath. “Mom, you know I haven’t…been with anyone before, right?”

Hazel’s smile softened. “I know.”

“I think I want to. With Daniel. I know it seems fast, but I’ve actually known him for several months. And…” The whispered words tumbled out in a rush. “I know how everything works. I just don’t know how to—how to let him know that I’m interested. That I’m ready. He’s careful with me. I think he’s still dealing with his own stuff, and what if he doesn’t even want me that way? What if protecting me is just his way of doing his duty?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Hazel brushed a thumb along Polly’s cheek. “Judging by the way he keeps glancing over here—checking on you every other minute—I’d say he’s very interested. You’re more than a duty assignment to him. You don’t have to push. When the time is right, you’ll both know.”

Polly smiled, feeling lighter. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Just remember to use the precautions I talked about when I gave you and Ashley the talk all those years ago. I want you to be happy, but I also want you to be careful.”

Polly rolled her eyes. “Got it, Mom. You know I’m a nurse, right?”

They carried their mugs out to the living room. Hazel gave Daniel a small approving nod before they sat. Daniel’s eyes narrowed with a question, silently asking Polly if she was okay. She held her mug up and toasted him with a reassuring smile.

When the goodbyes finally came—Burke’s gruff, “Call if you need backup,” Enzo’s firm handshake, Ashley’s wink and her mother’s hug—for both Polly and Daniel, Polly walked them to the door. Hazel held her a moment longer and whispered, “You’ve got this.”

The door shut behind them. Silence filled the condo again.

Polly leaned against the door and sighed. “Well. That went better than expected.”

Daniel’s half grin was crooked. “I’m still standing. That’s a win.”

Polly crossed the room to him, her pulse fluttering. The lamplight cast shadows over the jagged planes of Daniel’s face, and even softened the uneven focus of his prosthetic eye. He looked both battle-worn and impossibly kind.

“Thank you—for handling them so well,” she said.

He gave a small shrug. “Nothing to handle. You’ve got a good family.”

“So do you now,” she teased lightly, trying to mask how much she meant it.

A slow, wry smile curved his lips. “I’ve got Mrs. Maynard and Pirate—and maybe a few new friends here tonight.”

Before she could answer, he brushed his fingertips along her cheek, his calloused skin a contrast to the tenderness of the gesture. Then he drew her into his arms. His embrace was firm and steady, his scent warm and familiar—coffee, soap and something uniquely Daniel.

She could’ve stayed there forever, breathing him in, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. “Best hugs ever,” she murmured against the smooth knit of his sweater.

When he finally pulled back, his hand lingered at the nape of her neck. “Guess I’d better get the couch ready.”

“Right.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “The couch.”

His mouth quirked, as if he somehow knew what she and her mother had discussed in the kitchen. “Don’t tempt me, Polly Cooper.”

She laughed softly. “The spirit is willing…really willing, actually. But not tonight. We’re both exhausted. I’ve been with a lot of people today.”