"The sun is setting."

Max turned his phone camera around, the image of golden-ray soaked rooftops of Djibouti City transformed into his favourite sight, the image of Sophie. It had been two weeks since he'd held her in his arms, made the easiest promise of his life to come back to her. That morning, he'd desperately wanted to ask her for something he could keep of hers, hold on to at night. Something that retained her sweet vanilla scent. But he'd chickened out, sinking into her embrace instead, trying to seal the scent of her into his clothing. Last night he'd fallen asleep, phone in hand, as he scrolled through her texts and photos.

For the first time since joining the Navy, he wished his six-month rotation would fly by so he could return to her. "We have a similar amount of daylight as back home."

"But you have the heat. It tried to snow again."

A twinge pinched in his chest. "Is Finn driving you to the winery today?"

"He and Lucy. We're giving Emily a day to herself."

Max relaxed his grip on his phone. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

The light in Sophie's eyes washed away the final dregs of concern. It hadn't taken much to work out a routine to deal with the seven-hour time difference. Aside from text messages which could take Max a while to respond to when on duty, they'd settled on a video chat each day before Max's lights out. Today was an exception because he was driving the Admiral into the city again for dinner with representatives from the local government.

"Simon finally approved the black caviar-covered bocconcini with Black Sea Salt. I have to run into Washington today to pick up the cheese, but I'm eager to make them. Blake is in the kitchen with me today, helping with the prep. We have a lot to do, but they seem really interested. I think they might have a job here when Simon officially opens the restaurant." Her mouth dropped. "If he opens it, I mean."

"Hey. After the investors taste the meal you have planned for tomorrow night, they will throw money at Simon."

A tiny smile lifted Sophie's lips. "I hope so. He's super stressed right now. Even Mary can't get him to relax. Which means Mary is grumpy." She rolled her eyes. "Maybe baby Lucy can provide a distraction."

A rap drew Max's attention from his phone. Campbell leaned against the doorframe. "Time to go."

There was never enough time with Sophie. Max focused on her. "Good luck today. Not that you need it. Talk tomorrow Sunshine."

"Max?" His finger hovered over the end button. Sophie cleared her throat. "Be safe."

Warmth flooded his chest. "I will. I have a promise to keep."

***

Habit had Max sit at the same barstool he had last time Campbell and he had frequented this bar. Tonight the city buzzed, something in the air which made the back of his neck itch. Maybe this was a side effect of plunging into 82 degree heat after the chill of the lake house. The water bottle in his hand sweat with condensation, proving the humidity still hadn't dropped even though the sun had dipped below the horizon over two hours ago.

"Busy in here." Campbell stood, his back leaning against the bar, elbows resting on the edge, face scanning the room. This was a stance Max knew well from his years of working with Campbell. What lay behind the perception of ease was a man detailing every person and surface of the place, ready to spring into action if need be.

Max stretched his neck in an attempt to release the tension coiling up his spine. "Spill over from the rally?"

Campbell nodded. For decades Djibouti had been under the control of one man and in a few weeks he'd be up for re-election again. While the country touted free elections, less than twenty percent of the population were registered to vote and there were grumblings of rebels trying to overturn the current administration. The rally tonight consisted of sympathizers to the cause, if not the organizers themselves.

"Wish the Admiral would call." Campbell tapped his foot. "I promised Chrissy a video call. Sing her happy birthday."

"Can't believe you have a seven-year-old daughter. You are so old."

Campbell punched him in the shoulder. "At least I'm not green like you."

"Not so green anymore. I have to decide what to do after this tour." A chord tightened in Max's stomach. "Re-up or find something else to do." He turned to his friend. "Have you ever considered leaving?"

The water bottle in Campbell's hand creaked. "If you'd asked me that a year ago, I'd say this was it for me."

"What changed?"

"Chrissy. When she was young, she didn't know enough to miss me." Campbell's jaw worked. "Each trip home it gets harder and harder to leave. But this round was different. We had time together. She's a little human with the greatest laugh and a fear of spiders." Campbell huffed. "Can you imagine a child of mine afraid of something as small as a spider?"

Max shook his head. He'd witnessed Campbell walk into enemy territory like he was walking into a grocery store to pick up milk.

"And when I left." Campbell's head hung. "Her tears nearly broke me."

The memory of Sophie in the alley, sobbing in his arms, made the back of Max's throat tingled. Leaving her had felt impossible that cold morning. If Finn hadn't driven the car, Max might have not made it to the shipyard. The urge to turn around and go back to Sophie was the strongest craving he'd ever experienced. Greater than the high of a home run with the bases loaded.

"What would you do if you couldn't do this anymore?" asked Max.

"Couldn't? Have you been speaking with my wife?"

"Why would I—"

Campbell waved a hand. "My wife wants me to start my own business. She says I'm an adrenaline junkie and the only way I'd be remotely happy would be to use the skills I've learned from twelve years as a Master at Arms." Campbell emptied his water. "Little does she know I'd flip burgers to be able to spend endless days and nights with her and the kids."

Max ran a finger through the condensation of the water bottle. Endless days and nights with Sophie. His heart double-timed. "What kind of business?"

"I looked into getting my private investigator's license. That's one option. Or maybe private security. The idea would be to hire ex-military." Campbell's gaze met his. "It'd be easier if I had a partner."

The blood in Max's veins slowed. "A partner?"

"Someone I could trust."

Those words hung in the air, shimmering like a silver strand of possibility. The chance to work with Campbell meant someone would always have his back. But the man was proposing more than a job. This was an offer for a partnership. A future where Max could create the foundation for a life outside of the military. A life in the United States. A life with Sophie.

A burst of laughter erupted from the table, crowded with men who looked barely young enough to drink if this was back home. But here there was no minimum drinking age. Max bit the inside of his cheek, heat flaming up his neck. The men weren't laughing at him or his notion of being with Sophie. They were just people out for a drink on a hot night.

He still wasn't sure what Sophie saw in him, why she wanted him around. Yet that last night he'd felt something substantial pass between them. Something real. Her request for him to promise to return to her had sealed the deal for him. She wanted him, and that was enough.

"We'd have to build the business from the ground up and that won't be easy." Campbell drew Max's attention back to the conversation. "I have some savings set aside. An inheritance from my aunt that I invested. We were going to use it as the down payment on a new house, but seed money for planting roots in American soil seemed a better idea."

"I've got a little nest egg as well."

Wrinkles etched into Campbell's skin from the smile that cracked across his face. "So you'll think about it?"

Max knew it would be prudent to wait, talk about this with his sister. Or Finn or even Sophie. Yet he could almost see his new life before him, like the image at the end of a telescope. Crystal clear and only a few miles away. Every cell in his body screamed say yes. "Got a name for the company yet?"

"I was thinking—"

Both their phones buzzed with an incoming text. Max unlocked his phone and read the missive. "The Admiral's meeting is over."

Campbell called over the barkeeper. "We need to close out."

"I'll get the car." Max slid off the stool. "Meet you out front in five."

The night air smelt like the sweetness of freedom and Max sucked in a deep breath, holding the sensation in. A strum of purpose coursed through his veins as a world of possibilities opened up before him. He could be with Sophie, take her on more dates where he didn't have to ship off in the morning. They could find a place in the city, an apartment to share. Sooner rather than later, but after an appropriate amount of time, he could ask Sophie to marry him. He wasn't sure she'd say yes, wasn't sure she even ever wanted to get married, but he'd have to ask because he wanted the world to know that he loved Sophie, wanted to spend his life with her.

Completely wrapped up in thoughts of being with Sophie, Max wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. The cold ring of steel pressed against his ribs as the man's harsh demand to keep quiet hissed in Max's ear.

He thought of Sophie. She'd asked him to be safe, and he'd been foolish. He'd failed her. The slicing pain of knowing he might not be able to keep his promise to her paled compared to the thud of metal against his temple.