Rogue (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 1) (22 page)

She drew a chair to his bedside and lowered the rail. Sitting, she leaned forward, resting her cheek on the back of his hand.

“How can I ever thank you for saving me?” She stroked the hair on his tanned forearm. “I don’t like thinking of myself as a damsel in distress, but you certainly played the role of my knight in shining armor. You always have, you know? Whether it was saving me from a playground bully or helping me cram for finals or fill out college scholarship applications, you were always there—until you weren’t. And I did that. I know. I ended us. As bad as that hurts, I know for both of our sakes that I need to let you go and move on. Our time together has been scary and exhausting and at times a bit of a rush, but you were doing a job, and I read far too much into your protector role. You weren’t—“

“Geez . . . What’s a guy gotta do to get sleep around here?”

“You’re awake?”

“I’m talking, aren’t I?” He shifted his hand out from under her to cup her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Like, crazy, stupid take-my-breath-away gorgeous.”

“Nash, I—”

“Shh.” He planted his finger over her lips. “You had your say, but now it’s my turn to talk.”

“You heard all of that and didn’t stop me?” Mortified didn’t begin to cover how that revelation made her feel. What she’d said had been private—meant for the version of him she’d forever carry in her private heart—not the real deal.

“Ever think I might have a few secrets to spill?”

Teary eyed, she shook her head.

“When your psycho ex shot me, all I could do was pray I stayed alive long enough to tell you how much I love you.”

“As a close friend?”

“Do you have to keep interrupting?”

“Sorry. Nervous habit.” She pretended to zip her lips, lock them, then toss the imaginary key.

“Since odds are you have every intention of butting in again, I’m going to make this quick. There’s nothing friendly or brotherly about what I feel for you. It’s hot and achy and makes me want to drag you into this bed and do things that would skyrocket my pulse. Make no mistake, I genuinely loved Hope. She taught me to be a better, kinder, more patient man. What I didn’t understand before almost losing you was that loving you isn’t replacing her, it’s honoring her by opening my heart to its full capacity to let you back in. If you’ll have me, I can’t wait to be a husband to you and father to Joe. I want to kill spiders for you and mow the lawn and weed the garden. I want us to host holiday dinners for our moms and play board games and do puzzles on rainy days. I want the kind of life we talked about sharing back when we were kids and didn’t fully appreciate how precious that kind of normalcy would truly be. I want—”

“How about what I want?” She hated to yet again interrupt, but this couldn’t wait.

He scowled. “Are you turning down my proposal again?”

“As if . . .” She stood, leaning over him to remove the oxygen tubes from his nose. “All of what you said sounds great, but I’m capable of killing my own spiders, and at the moment, what I want seems more urgent than a game of Scrabble.”

“I don’t know . . . Scrabble can get pretty intense.”

“Now, who’s talking too much?” She leaned closer and closer until his warm, familiar breath fanned her upper lip, making her tingle with the kinds of needs that would sadly have to wait until they were both off medical abstinence.

Finally,
finally
, she touched her lips to his and happily groaned. Their kiss was everything she’d remembered and craved.

At least until he pulled back. “Maisey?”

“Yes?”

“I just thought of a major problem.”

She tensed. “If you’re about to tell me you changed your mind about us—”

He kissed her quiet. “Relax. All I wanted to say is that at some point soon, we’re gonna have to make a return trip to the Everglades to fetch my truck.”

 

Epilogue

 

 

“HON, I’M TELLING you that Food Network chef said this is the best way to get our turkey extra juicy. He said if we don’t cook it on super low heat, starting ridiculously early in the morning, it will never be done in time for guests.” It was their first Thanksgiving as husband and wife, and Nash’s friends wouldn’t stop giving him grief about his new penchant for cooking. But then what did he care? In a few hours, they could all eat crow instead of his delicious bird. His meal would hands down be the best any of those bozos had ever tasted.

Maisey yawned. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one thing delicious enough to wake me this early on a day off.” She’d taken a loan to buy her old shop from Delia’s parents, and sales had been great but her schedule hectic.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” He added a final sprig of fresh rosemary to his crowning Thanksgiving glory, then placed the lid on the new roasting pan and put the bird in the oven.

“I think you know.” She hefted herself onto the granite counter of the newly-renovated three-bedroom ranch they’d bought on the same block as their two moms. At times, it was too close for comfort, but it sure came in handy when they needed a sitter. “All this food porn you’ve been making me watch has me hungry for something meatier than gravy.”

“Yeah?” He washed his hands and dried them on a dishcloth before crossing to her, easing his hands under her lush curls, then kissing her, drinking her in, loving her with every breath of his being.

She’d slept in one of the white button-downs Harding forced him to wear when he met clients at Trident, Inc.’s new Jacksonville office. He hated those shirts, but loved seeing them on his sexy wife.

Even better? He loved taking them off of her. One by one, he unfastened buttons, kissing a trail along the way. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, to each breast, to her abdomen, and then lower to the sweet spot between her legs. He urged her legs open and flattened his hand against her chest, nudging her back against the upper cabinet.

He found her clit, laving it with his tongue until she cried out and pulled his hair. Since they were already trying to give Joe a baby brother or sister, Nash didn’t bother with a condom, but eased inside while tugging her nearer the counter’s edge.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. “I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you.”

“I love you,” he said on the heels of a moan. “I love you so damned much. Think our mothers would frown if when we all say what we’re thankful for, I admit that I’m damned thankful for my wife’s sexy—”

The house phone rang.

“Talk about being saved by the bell. First—who would be calling this early on Thanksgiving? Second—no, you can’t say anything about our sex lives at the dinner table. Third—don’t you dare stop until . . .
Yes, yes
. . .”

The ringing quit long enough for Nash to spill his seed deep inside her, then indulge in a nice, long make-out session before it started up again. “Want me to get it? Or should we go straight for another round?”

“You should probably at least see who it is.” She shrugged the open halves of his shirt back over her shoulders. “It might be one of our moms.”

He sighed, then picked up the phone. “Jasper. What the hell, man? I haven’t even found the coffee, let alone made a cup.”

“Sorry, man. I’m calling everyone. Remember that girl I met? Eden?”

“Yeah.” Nash scratched his head. “Thought she was in Iceland.”

“Antarctica.”

“Same difference—sort of.”

“Stop screwing around, she’s in trouble.”

“What’s up?” Nash’s stomach tensed with adrenaline. He hadn’t been a key member of any protection team since getting out of the hospital. As much as he loved playing homemaker, he was itching to get back to action—even if that meant working the home office while part of the team was gone.

“Mind if we all meet at your place in an hour? She left a cryptic message I want all of you to hear.”

“Sure. Head over. Maisey won’t mind.”

She raised her eyebrows and frowned. “If this is about football . . .”

Nash shook his head, then ended the call.

“Everything okay?”

After one more lingering kiss, he said, “We’re about to find out.”

 

 

Dear Reader—

 

I can’t thank you enough for spending time with Nash and Maisey. All of my characters are dear to me, but these two sometimes made me cry, scream, laugh or all of the above! LOL! If you enjoyed their story, pretty please with-a-cherry-on-top
leave a review on ARe
or
Goodreads
.

The next book in my SEAL Team: Disavowed series,
OUTCAST
, features Eden and Jasper. These two damaged souls have some awfully big secrets that play out in the midst of a deadly, Antarctic-based treasure hunt that I hope you’ll devour! I’ve included the first chapter for a sneak peek . . .

 

Happy Reading—Laura Marie

OUTCAST

SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 2

 

Laura Marie Altom

 

 

 

 

1

 

 

“THEY’RE ALL DEAD . . .” English lit professor, Eden Marabella, dropped the satellite phone she’d been speaking into. It shattered against the rocks at her feet, but shock at the sight before her made the loss of their team’s primary outside communication tool a non-issue.

Her throat closed with emotion, and her eyes stung.

The more of the grisly scene she digested, the more her stomach roiled.

She retched at the sheer amount of blood spilled across the ice. It had frozen in pools beneath the majestic creatures, standing in stark contrast to the Orcas’ beautiful black and white markings.

Her father’s associate, Dane Northrup, a marine biologist from Stony Brook University in New York, slipped his arm around her shoulders, comforting her through her latest round of nausea. “Deep breaths,” he coached. “Ride it out.”

“W-what happened?” she asked, her voice shallow and dazed. “It looks like an entire pod.” Dozens upon dozens of the killer whales had washed upon the snow and ice-crusted shore of their stretch of Antarctica’s Ross Sea. Her father, a marine biology professor from the University of Tampa had been coming here for years. He and his students had raised millions for conservation and research, and now had a private station manned year-round with students and professors pursuing independent studies.

Her poor father silently moved among the beached creatures as if under a dark spell. His shoulders slumped. Silent tears glistened on his ruddy cheeks in the bright November sun. The day was a rare jewel with the temperature almost above freezing and the horizon clear. Tragedy didn’t happen on afternoons like this, so why were they facing so much death now?

Early that morning, Eden and her dad had caught a ride with friends stationed at McMurdo. Dane followed with two students who’d opted to stay in their rooms to get settled.

The walk to the beach had become an annual tradition for Eden and her father. One typically highlighted by visiting an Adélie penguin colony on the rocky point. In the shock over the orcas, she’d forgotten them. She was now afraid to glance in that direction.

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