It wasn't as if word traveled all the way to the North Pacific where he was floating; it wasn't until the Abraham Lincoln came into harbor that Ollie heard about the miraculous return of one Senior Chief Petty Officer Carlos Sanchez. Of course, once he was on shore, there were plenty of people happy to tell him all about it, and by the time he was sent home for the day he was full of information - Sanchez had been discharged, of course, and he'd moved up to L.A. And of course Ollie'd heard about Gael Shaw's unfortunate accident, right? So Sanchez was moving from SEAL to nursemaid.

Well, Ollie kind of doubted that much...but he was surprisingly happy that Carlos was alive, considering the friction that had always been between them. A therapist would probably have a field day with Ollie's inability to believe he and Ty would have been together if Sanchez had ever made a play. And maybe even more of a field day at the idea that it was easier to deal with a guy living in L.A. with his Hollywood boyfriend than a ghost who'd fallen in Iran.

He drove slowly up to the plot of land he and Ty had gotten, though it wasn't a plot anymore. The house was done. Landscaping was still a little spotty, and it definitely had that new house look to it - but it was done, and it looked exactly like the plans Ty had emailed, with the changes Ollie had emailed back. He pulled his BMW behind Ty's truck and made for the door.

Again, more slowly than he needed to, he thought as he pushed open the door and walked into the house, moving through rooms until he found one with someone in it.

Ty was in the master bedroom, scowling at a wall painted a nice, pale, neutral blue, and Ollie raised his eyebrows.

"What," he said. "Don't tell me you agree with me now that we should have gone with pink?"