Honor (Sky Ridge Hotshots, #3)

by Danielle Baker

“I’m so damn proud of you, Teddy,” I murmur gently. Smiling down at her, my fucking heart is thumping wildly in my chest for this incredible, brave woman. “You did so good, sweetheart. So damn good.”

“No, that’s okay, I’ve got it⁠—” “Hey.” His eyes laser focus on mine, stopping my stammering words. “Let us help you, Mama.” I hear variations of Mom and Mommy all day long, every day. But this? Mama. The way he says it in that husky, intimate rasp, has completely short circuited my brain.

I instantly regret the harshness of my words when Violette’s eyes lose some of that sparkle, and that smile disappears.

They say grief never truly fades; it just hits less often. Fuck, when it hits though, its like a sucker punch to the center of the chest.

Letting go of Teddy and allowing her to pull away from me just might be one of the most painful things I’ve had to live through. At least, until she looks up at me with those damn silver-gray eyes that show just how betrayed she feels. And then I feel even fucking worse.