Saved by the SEAL (13 page)

My father nods. “We decided to split up for a bit, because something about this situation is throwing us off.”

Grisham leans closer to look at the map Dad has laid out on the table. I look, too, but I can't understand what they're talking about at first.

Dare explains. “This map is of the wooded area outside of Wilmington, farther away from the coast. There's a compound there where our client fears someone is keeping his wife. The FBI is involved, but he has hired us to help because he has the money and he's worried the person keeping his wife there will hurt her or worse.”

A pang of sympathy shoots through my chest. “That's awful.”

My father nods grimly. “We're trying to figure out the best way to approach the compound. The terrain is rough, and we have to expect that the owner of the compound will have eyes all over his property.”

Grisham focuses intently on the map, stroking his chin while he concentrates. “What if you did something like this?” He points to a spot on the map and leans in. “Dropping in from the sky would be a dead giveaway. But coming in at night in stealth mode on foot, right in this spot, might give you a chance to have the element of surprise. From what I can see on the map, this is where his security would be the weakest. There's the least chance of him having a visual on you entering the property.”

My father looks sharply at Grisham before leaning in to take in what he'd pointed out on the map.

“That could work,” says Dare thoughtfully.

I take a step back, glancing around at the five men as they pore over the materials in front of them. They're all so absorbed in what they're doing they've probably forgotten I'm here. I shake my head, amused at how quickly Grisham's been pulled into the fold, and head to my desk. I might as well get a little bit of work done while they're busy. I turn on my computer and pull up a schedule I'm planning to work on next week. I can get an early start on it for a half hour or so and then go home to shower before a night out with my friends.

I pull open my desk drawer, reaching in without looking to grab a pen. When a sharp prick stabs my finger, sending a jolt of pain through my hand, I let out a small cry of surprise.

“What's wrong?” asks Grisham.

When I look up, five pairs of eyes are staring intently at me.

“Um, it's nothing. I just hurt my finger.” I put the offending finger into my mouth, tasting the coppery metallic tang of blood. I look at my finger and notice a small wound. Feeling dizzy, I quickly pull my gaze away.

When I lean down to check my drawer, I see the offending weapon. The thorn of a single white rose.

A chill crawls up my spine and down again.

How did this rose get in my desk?

I stare at it a moment before I realize that Grisham is standing in front of my desk. Concern is etched on his face.

“Are you okay?”

I nod numbly, not sure what to make of the rose in my desk. “Yeah, I…I pricked my finger on a thorn from this rose.”

Grisham's eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline. “That rose was in your desk? Just now?”

I nod. “I don't know how it got there.”

Frowning, Grisham picks up the flower and turns it over in his hand. “I don't like this.”

I shake my head. “It's weird.”

“Who has access to your desk?”

I gesture. “Just these guys, I guess. But none of them ever touches my desk. And none of them would leave me a flower without telling me it was from them.”

Then I remember Ronin's affinity for pranks. “Unless…hey, guys?”

The men look up at me again.

“Have any of you given me flowers lately?”

Genuine expressions of confusion cross their faces, and I know immediately that none of them have pulled a fast one on me. “Never mind.”

Grisham studies the rose. “Do you want to report this?” He keeps his voice low.

I snort. “Report what? The fact that someone is giving me flowers?”

He frowns. “You're right. There's nothing to report. But I want you to keep your eyes open, okay? First the bouquet and the red rose in your car, and now this. It's strange, and I don't like it.”

I nod glumly. “It's strange, all right. I'll keep an eye out. But I'm sure it's nothing.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I'm sure it is.”

Dare calls out, “Grisham, come here. Let me run something by you.”

I shut down my computer and stand. Suddenly, I'm no longer in the mood to work. “Hey, guys, I'm out of here, okay? Grisham, I'll text you later.”

He gives me a warm smile. “Looking forward to it.”

I keep the warmth from his smile with me on my way home, helping to ease the anxiety the white rose brought me. But the throbbing in my finger keeps it at the forefront of my thoughts.

I
don't know why or how the path through the woods to the compound jumped out at me so easily. It just did. As I'm sitting with the Night Eagle team poring over the map and the digital notes they'd taken during their initial meeting with their client, it occurred to me that someone who's hiding something big enough to need an entire compound in the woods to themselves would have aerial coverage of the sky surrounding their land. But maybe it would be much more difficult to survey every acre surrounding their home.

“I thought about going in on foot,” mused Jacob thoughtfully. “Actually, I was thinking that'd be the way we'd have to do it, but how'd you find this route so damn fast? You only looked at the map for about a minute.”

“It just jumped out at me,” I answer honestly. “My brain works that way with maps and data. I can see things other people can't…that's why I was able to lead my own SEAL team at twenty-four.”

Dare grins at me, impressed. “Respect, dude. That's something to be proud of.”

I glance down at my foot. “It was.”

Jacob fixes me with a stern stare. His eyes are intense in their gaze, and he makes damn sure I can't look away. He holds authority the way most soldiers hold their weapons: with firm ease. “No, it
is.
You seem to move pretty damn well on that foot of yours, Abbot. Now, I figure the navy has given you your walking papers, am I right?”

With the sinking feeling in my gut I get whenever I think about leaving the job I thought I'd do until I died, I nod. “Yeah. The end of the year, I'm out. Honorably, and with some medals, yeah. But I still have to go.”

Jacob gives me an assessing look, and the other guys are looking me up and down, too. I hold up under their scrutiny, though, because there's no way in hell I'm backing down to a bunch of ex-Rangers. As a SEAL, I'm proud of my branch and of my service, so if they don't think I measure up to them, they can all go to hell. Dare gives me a minimal shake of his head, almost as if he can hear what I'm thinking. I focus my attention back on Jacob.

“What are your plans after you're out?”

This is the question I've asked myself a hundred times and haven't yet been able to answer. How am I going to go from saving lives, putting myself on the line with each mission I'm a part of, the adrenaline rush that is being a SEAL, to all of that being completely absent from my life? How do I go from something like that to a desk job or something? I have a college degree, I know there are other avenues for me when I retire from the navy. But none of them have appealed to me so far.

“I don't know, sir.”

Jacob pauses, mulling something over in his brain as he keeps his stare locked on me. I can almost see the gears turning, until he finally speaks.

“I have a proposition for you. I like how quickly that brain of yours read this situation, and I'm interested in having you on the team here at Night Eagle. We're growing, and I need to be able to split some assignments between a few men each here at the Wilmington office. If you're interested, I'd like to give you a PT test that I use for my guys here, and then I'd like to try you out on this assignment, since you already weighed in on it. Are you interested?”

Fuck, yeah…I'm interested!
I want to shout it at the top of my lungs.

My heart is kicking up dust in my chest just thinking about his offer. I can't believe my luck…I literally just walked into a possible future for life after the navy. And I hadn't even seen it coming.

Kind of like Greta.

It's not lost on me that it's because of her that I'm now in the position to possibly start the rest of my life with a new, rewarding career that can give me the same sort of satisfaction being a SEAL does. So far, being around Greta has done nothing but bring me up, out into the sunshine where previously there'd been only darkness.

“Yes, sir,” I finally answer Jacob, a wide grin crossing my face. “I'm damn sure interested.”

Jacob breaks into a tiny smile, and the other three guys take a turn clapping me on the back. “Welcome to the team, Abbot.”

Dare speaks up. “When we work together on a mission, we never use our first names. We use the nicknames we earned in the uniform. They call me Cujo, Jacob here is Boss Man. Teague over there is known as Brains because he's a tech guru, and we call Shaw Swagger. Because he's arrogant as shit, but he can always back it up. What about you, Abbot? What do your guys call you in the field?”

My smile comes slow and sure. “They call me Ghost.”

“Because of all that blond hair and white skin?” suggests Teague.

Dare and Ronin laugh outright at his joke, but my smile is gone.

“No,” I answer with a straight face. “Because the assholes we're after never see me coming.”

Later, sitting around a local Lone Sands bar with my SEAL buddies, my new Night Eagle team, and my closest friends, I'm feeling good. Better than I have in a long time. The prospect of a new job where I don't have to worry about my prosthetic holding me back has lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. Greta is sitting beside me at the table, having arrived with Mea and her brother, Mikah. Berkeley and Dare are here with Drake, and the night is young and full of promise.

I sip my beer, feeling light as a fucking feather. Wrapping an arm behind Greta's chair, I scoot it closer to mine. She squeals in surprise, turning her legs so that her body is facing mine and her knees graze the side of my thigh. I glance down at where our legs are touching, a trail of heat sizzling through my black jeans.

“You want to tell me what happened today to put you in such a good mood?” she asks me coyly.

I smile, knowing the Jack in her Coke is making her bolder than usual. Her blushes are fewer and farther between tonight. I like that she's comfortable enough with me to relax in my presence. When I saw her order her Jack and Coke, I decided right there that I'd only be having two beers tonight. I want to be the one to make sure she gets home safely.

“Yeah…actually, you're not gonna believe this. Your dad kind of offered me a spot on his team today.”

Her mouth falls open. I expect to see joy and excitement in her eyes, and she eventually does shoot me a quick smile. But before it, there's a shadow that crosses her expression. It immediately sends my radar into overdrive trying to figure out what caused her hesitation.

“That's…wonderful. You showed a lot of initiative today when you looked at that map. Stuff like that really impresses my dad. Are you…going to take it?”

She looks away, toward the next table where a bunch of college-aged patrons are getting loud and rowdy.

“Hey.” I use my finger to ease her face back toward mine. “Do you have a problem with me working at Night Eagle?”

I drop my voice a little, wanting our conversation to be between her and me.

She shakes her head firmly. “No, Grisham. I don't. I want you to be happy, and this obviously makes you very happy.” She offers me a brave smile.

Confusion is making my brain feel foggy.
What am I missing?
“Then why don't you sound happy?”

She tries to look away again, but I follow her gaze with my head, staying right in front of her. “Tell me.”

She sighs. “It's just…I like where this is going, you know? You and me…it's kind of awesome. And things with my dad have always been strained, and it's because…” She trails off. Understanding clicks into place for me, like a puzzle I worked hours to solve.

“Because of his job. First the military, and then Night Eagle. And you're worried that if I start working there…”

She shakes her head ruefully. “I realize I'm being ridiculous. This is an amazing opportunity for you and of course you're going to take it, Grisham.”

Suddenly, I pull her out of her chair and into my lap, not caring how many of our friends are sitting there to watch. I focus on her and her only as she stares uncertainly into my eyes. “Listen to me, all right? You and me getting to know each other is really fucking important to me right now. I'm excited about the job, sure. But don't think for a minute that my work will come before the people in my life. It won't happen. Especially if I'm lucky enough to have someone like you by my side. Okay?”

She nods, relief washing over her face. “Okay. We don't have to say any more about it.”

“No, we have to say one more thing about it. Me taking a job at Night Eagle means we work at the same place. Did you realize that?”

She slowly shakes her head. “No…but now that you mention it…”

I smile, mischief brewing inside as I trace the line of her slender jaw with my index finger. “It means that I'll get to see more of you. And that we might make good use of that break room in the back.”

She giggles, squirming on my lap. My cock is in instant beast mode, wanting to make sure she knows it's there. “I like the sound of that, Abbot.”

“Stop moving like that, angel,” I whisper darkly in her ear. “You're gonna make it really fucking hard for me to stand up.”

She stills. “Sorry.” Her telltale blush moves across her cheeks and flushes her chest, and
damn
I want to bury my head between her breasts and feel her heat. My hand slips up her bare thigh. Her skin is burning under my touch.

Someone at the table clears their throat. Greta and I both look up, having forgotten anyone else was with us.

“So, this is happening,” says Berkeley amid a burst of giggles. She moves her hand between Greta and me, gesturing. “Should the rest of us, um…leave?”

Beside her Mea is grinning widely. The guys at the table are all trying to pretend they see and hear nothing, which I appreciate. Until Shaw leans over to tell me in a stage whisper: “I took a picture with my phone. Planning to send it anonymously to the Boss Man.”

I lean back over. “If you do that, you bastard, I will make you pay. Repeatedly.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Just jokes, Ghost.”

I glare at him in response.

Greta buries her head in the crook of my shoulder and my neck, embarrassed. All I want to do is get her out of here. The previous night with her is replaying over and over again in my head, mocking me.

I can't believe I didn't make love to her sweet ass when I had her in my bed. I could fix that tonight…

I lean into her, inhaling her sweet floral scent and feeling her soft skin against my lips. “I want to go pay our tabs. And then I want to take you home.”

She pulls back slightly. “To your place?”

I nod slowly, meeting her gaze and feeling myself molding into her hands like putty. There's a real chance I could end up completely gone for this girl. It's a chance I'm willing to take because the way I feel when I'm with her is a high I never achieved, even when jumping out of a helicopter.

“Yeah, Grits. To my place.”

She smiles, a slow curling of her lips that's somehow both shy and sexy at the same time. I take it as a sign she's ready to leave with me, and I start to vacate my chair and head for the bar, just as the first thumping strains of Luke Bryan's “Country Girl” sounds from the stage at the front of the room. The band throws themselves into the song, and there's a mass upheaval as girls all around me leap from their seats.

Including Berkeley and Mea. Mea places a vise grip around Greta's arm, pulling her behind them to the dance floor. Greta throws me one last longing glance before she disappears into the crowd.

I throw a look around the table. The guys are grinning, and Dare is shaking with laughter.

At the sight of my scowl, he shrugs. “I've been there, dude. But girls and that song…you can't fight it. She'll be back soon.”

I sigh, heaving myself up from the table. I'm going to go pay Greta and my tabs, so that we'll be ready to go when she's done shaking her ass.

Standing at the bar, I get a glimpse of her through the crowd. She's standing up near the front with Berkeley and Mea, but I barely see the other two. Greta is dancing, shaking it for all she's worth, her long, dark hair flying all around her. She's got moves, her lush body rippling and twisting to the beat. I watch, frozen in place, as she dances.

Then the crowd shifts again, and I lose sight of her. Shaking my head dumbly, I turn to flag down a bartender.

Yeah. I could definitely be gone for this girl.

When the song finally ends, I'm back at the table, waiting for Greta. The girls return well into the next song. Berkeley takes a seat in Dare's lap and Mea plops down in her seat, pristinely sipping her drink like she hadn't just been showing a bar full of dudes exactly what her hips are capable of.

“Where's Greta?” I ask, glancing the way they'd just come.

Berkeley glances around. “Wait. Where
is
Greta, Mea?”

Mea gives me a pointed grin. “Outside. Said she was gonna wait for you by the door because she needed some air.”

I shove my chair backward and barely glance back as I head out. “That's my cue. See you guys later.”

There's chuckling behind me as I go, but I don't look back to see who it is. I book it for the bar's entrance instead.

Outside, the cool sea breeze hits my face and I see why Greta wanted to get out into it after the way she'd been moving inside. She must be hot and sweaty, a thought that only makes me want to get to her faster. She's not standing by the front door, though. So I glance both ways outside before walking through the parking lot toward where I'd parked my Jeep. Anticipation at having her all wrapped up in my arms makes me move faster than I normally would.

But when I arrive at the Jeep, Greta's not there, either. A sudden jolt of panic swirls through me. Thoughts of what happens to girls who are left alone at bars flash through my head, and I'm running back toward the bar.