SEAL Protected (5 page)

Chapter 7

Tom was gone when I woke up. And Tom wasn’t back the next day, or even the next. Three days passed after our mid-morning activities before I saw him again. When I did see him again, I wasn’t pleased.

I had just gotten off work and was preparing to catch a bus to head home. My car was still in the shop, but it would be out in another few days. The thought of my car made me sigh. It was something that I had never meant to lose. I’d banged it up in October – completely totaling the frame and most of the engine. It had cost a small fortune and several weeks to get it back in working order, and even now it was still being worked on. Even though I could have bought another car for what I was paying to get it fixed – actually, what my Dad was, considering the accident was technically his fault – I couldn’t give up my car. I’d had it since I was sixteen. It was my baby. My navy blue baby.

At the bus stop, a minute before the bus showed up, I saw Tom. He was standing in the shadows with his hood pulled up. He was wearing the same hoodie he’d worn the day we had fallen into bed together. I ignored the small rush of heat in my lower stomach and let my anger overtake it. I gritted my teeth and stomped across the street to Tom. His eyes widened when he saw me, but he didn’t run.

“Hey, asshole!” I shouted, a growl rising in my throat. Tom, to his credit and to the credit of his training, didn’t even flinch. He locked eyes with me, a cool gaze in his mostly expressionless face.

“Hello, Michelle.” I stopped in front of him, thought for a second, then stepped back and slugged him as hard I could. My fist connected, and his head snapped to one side. No other movement. I gritted my teeth again and clenched my fists, preparing to swing once more.

“Don’t you ‘Hello’, me. What the hell is your problem?” I snapped. “We go running; we have sex; then you disappear for three days?” I threw my hands into the air. “I don’t even care that you ran after sex.” I did, actually. But I wasn’t about to tell him that. “You are supposed to be my bodyguard. You are supposed to protect me.”

“Just because you can’t see me, doesn’t mean I’m not around.”

“Prove it.”

Tom blinked. “Yesterday you woke up at 0500. You ran for thirty six minutes to the waterfront and it took you twenty nine to get back – a new record of yours, by the way. You left for work at oh eight hundred oh six and arrived at oh eight hundred twenty-nine. You worked until seventeen hundred thirty and went to the donut shop for a soup lunch with Cindy at twelve hundred. You then went to dinner with Taryn and Cindy after work, rented an action movie to watch with Taryn, and shut off your lights at twenty-three sixteen.”

I stared, my jaw dropped and my eyes wide. Had he been watching me? How did he know all this? I shook my head. “How do you-” And then it hit me. “Right, you’re a SEAL, ex or not that’d be in your training, wouldn’t it? Honestly, you’re like a ninja.” He cocked an eyebrow, a wry smile on his face. “Don’t look at me like that, I don’t like it.” I folded my arms and shook my head. “Asshole,” I repeated.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. Really? He ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was stupid and scared and I ran. I was scared of what we’d done, what it would mean, and what to say when you woke up, so I ran. I ran and I hid and that was cowardly of me.” He looked into my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You better be,” I replied. “And you better be willing to explain everything and make this up to me, because I am not just going to take your kicked puppy expression and be done with it. You hurt me. You might recognize that you hurt me but that doesn’t change the fact that you did.” I scrubbed my face with one hand and cursed under my breath. “Tom, we are adults. Consenting and mature adults. We could have talked about everything once we woke up. But instead of acting like an adult, you acted like a child and you ran.”

“How can I make it up to you?” he asked.

“You can start with dinner, I want chicken. After that, we’ll see.” He nodded. “Come on.” I turned on heel and walked back across the street.

“Where are we going?”

“’The Workin’ Chicken’,” I said. “Best chicken strips in town, not that pricey, and we can get in with what we’re wearing. You’re going to buy me dinner, laugh at my jokes, and tell the waiter I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met.” I looked over my shoulder and smirked. “Then, we can talk.” Tom stared at me with wide eyes and parted lips, and then he shook his head to rid himself of the expression.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

It was a quick walk to ‘The Workin’ Chicken’. I’d found the place after work one day when I’d gone for a jog. It was a family run business with an elderly couple working the after-hours bar and the front podium. Their children were the main chefs, and the chefs’ children acted as main servers when they weren’t at school. It was never packed, but I secretly hoped it was tonight so no one would notice me and Tom. He had a military way of carrying himself, with his posture perfectly straight and a distant battle aggression in his eyes. I worried it would draw attention to us.

My prayers had been heard by some higher power, because the restaurant was absolutely packed. We were informed there was a single booth available – and it was even at the back of the restaurant. Once seated, the server woman handed up our menus and smiled.

“Can I get a drink to get you two started?” she asked.

“Coffee,” said Tom in a gruff voice without looking up from his menu. The woman started, her eyes widening. I cursed inwardly and kicked Tom under the table. He winced and offered the woman a mumbled apology.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll have a chocolate shake, please and thank you.” The woman nodded and slipped off, throwing a worried look over her shoulder as she went. I sighed. “So much for not drawing attention to ourselves,” I muttered.

“Attention?” He raised an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing.”

He shrugged, looked thoughtful, and then turned his attention back to me. “A chocolate shake?” he asked, with more than a touch of amusement in his voice.

“Hey, these guys have the best chocolate shakes in town.” I smiled, shrugging off my coat and tucking myself into the corner of the booth. My boots slipped off my feet and I tucked them under me. “Can’t go wrong with a chocolate shake and chicken.”

Tom stared at me for a moment. Then, he shook his head, a soft chuckle shaking his muscular frame. “You really are something. I don’t know what, though.”

“Not yet, anyway,” I replied. A smile touched my lips, pulling them into a serene expression with fond eyes and a tilted head. Tom caught me staring and flushed. I snickered. “Tom the Navy SEAL, brought to his knees by little ol’ me.” I drawled the last bit and leaned into the booth. Tom was saved from having to respond because the server showed up again. She slipped my shake in front of me, complete with Oreo cookie stuck in the center topped with whipped cream, and then slid Tom’s coffee and a small array of sugar and cream to him. I rubbed my hands together and grinned.

“Excellent, thank you.”

“I’m suddenly scared of you. No one looks at a chocolate shake like that.” I looked up and flashed him my most devious grin. He gave an over-dramatic shudder.

The server laughed and took out her pad. “So, any ideas what you’d like?”

“I’ll have the chicken burger – strips, not patty – with fries and a side of onion rings. And can you bring tartar sauce instead of gravy?” I asked. She nodded. Tom mouthed ‘tartar sauce’ at me, his nose wrinkled in confusion. I grinned. Most people had that reaction to my dipping sauce of choice.

“And for you?”

Tom scrambled to open his menu and scanned it quickly. He coughed. “Um.”

“I always recommend the house special,” said the server, waving her pencil in a circle. “That’s a barbeque chicken burger with spicy mayonnaise and cheese, and a side of the house fries.” He nodded and handed her the menu.

“I’ll have that, then,” he said. She nodded, took our menus, and disappeared again.

“You’re not good at the social thing, are you?” I asked.

A shrug. “I wasn’t trained to be social or friendly. I was trained to get information and find those who went missing.”

“And you became a personal bodyguard? There are so many other kinds of bodyguards you could have been. Or even just other things,” I replied. Then feeling sneaky, I added, “Like a coat rack.”

Tom chose to ignore that last part and replied, “There have been some ups and downs, but it isn’t all bad.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He stared at his coffee, his hands flexing around the hot mug. I sipped my shake through the straw, twirling the whip cream around with one finger. “After all, I got to meet you.” That stopped my hand. I flushed, ducking my head to smile. Tom said nothing after his quiet confession, and I couldn’t blame him. That was quite the thing to say to someone you’d known for a month. Still, it was cute, and I had to agree.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” I said.

After that our conversation delved into less personal topics and we found we had a few similar tastes. He liked chocolate, though less so than my sort-of obsession. I liked motorcycles, though I wasn’t as familiar with them as he was. I was more familiar with the engineering program he was following that was working on large-scale applications of 3D printers. Frankly, I think that impressed him, but I was more interested in explaining it to him than gauging his reaction. We also found that we shared similar movie tastes. We liked mystery movies without jump scares and action movies. I learned that Tom hated action movies in which the family of the main character was used as leverage, and we both learned we really loved superheroes.

It was on our walk back to my apartment that the last topic came up more. We ended up in a discussion about superheroes and what we’d like to be.

“I would want to be someone who talks to animals,” I said. “That way I could just order mountain lions to slay my enemies.” I grinned and hopped up onto the ledge of a fountain as we walked by it. We were taking the long way home, despite the chilly air.

“And you’d be a better vet,” added Tom.

“That too,” I agreed. I spun on one foot to face him, wobbling. “What about you?”

He thought about it for a minute, rolling the words over in his head. “Empathy.”

“Why?”

“I want to make people happy, and sometimes you can’t.” He smiled at me. “If I could just smile at a stranger and make them stay happy all day, I think that’d be easier.”

“You probably do pretty well on your own.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.” I hoped off the fountain and stumbled into his chest. “You make me happy.” Tom smiled and wrapped an arm around my waist. Together, we walked back to my apartment.

Chapter 8

Several weeks passed in much the same fashion. Tom and I would go running in the mornings, watch the sun come up, and then run back in time for me to get ready to go to work. I worked, he worked, and we went out. We grew closer and closer as autumn gave way to winter. Snow blanketed the ground in mid-December, and it was when it finally got cold enough for the edge of the waterfront to start freezing that I dragged him out to a small pond at the edge of the city. My car was out of the shop by then, and I’d seen the way Tom had stared when I’d first shown him it.

The pond at the edge of town was completely frozen over and I could tell that from the road. I slowed to a stop and grabbed my skates, dragging Tom off to the ice. He stared at the pond and at the skates in his hands like he’d never seen either before.

“Put them on,” I said with a laugh. He shook his head, eyes wide. “Please, for me?”

A sigh passed his lips and obediently he sat down on a log and pulled on his boots. Within the minute we were stepping out onto the ice. I glided across the smooth surface, reveling in the cold bite to the air, the bright sun above, and the smooth surface beneath my feet. I looked to Tom, who was wobbling at the edge of the ice, struggling to keep his balance. He had his arms straight out and he danced back and forth, his eyes wide and staring at his feet. I was growing used to Tom’s wide eyed look. It seemed to be one of Tom’s default expressions. That, and mild disdain. Though I was seeing his soft smiles and warm chuckles more and more when it was the two of us.

I skated over to Tom and brushed a hand over his hair. “Come on,” I said. I took his hands and skated backward across the pond slowly, dragging him with me. Tom stared at his feet the whole time, his hands tight against mine. “Look at me, not your feet. Feel the ice but don’t stare at it,” I said. He nodded, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe me. “Come on,” I said again. “Don’t think, just feel.”

He snorted at that. “You remind me of my drill sergeants,” he said.

“Training?” I guessed, and he nodded. I shook my head at him. “I should have figured; it makes sense. I suppose you were trained for all sorts of things.”

“Not ice skating,” he said.

I laughed. “Of course, not ice skating. Now, keep up with me and let’s see how you do.” I skated backwards, letting my feet glide across the ice and keeping an eye on Tom. He was looking at me now, instead of at his feet, and the intensity of his gaze sent pinpricks of electricity racing down my arms and legs. He had a knack for that, I’d noticed, and I liked it. I liked that he could make me feel so many things in just a look.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked as I took him around a corner.

“You,” I said. Tom frowned at me and I shook my head, easing him into another turn. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear. Just…,” I shook my head, “I don’t know. You’re a very strange man, Tom. You know all this stuff about the navy and the government and fighting, but you’ve missed out on a lot of fun things.”

“Like skating?” he guessed. I nodded. “I wouldn’t call this the most fun I’ve ever had. But… it’s nice, I suppose.”

“All right. Let’s see how you do without me.” I released his hands and wheeled around, gliding off before he could make a grab for me. “Come on!”

Halfway around the pond again I spun around and cocked an eyebrow at him, a challenge to see if he’d follow. Tom glided forward a few steps, wobbled, and then caught his balance just before he flipped over. I snickered, letting myself stand still on the ice. Inch by inch he came forward, then, just before he was within arms’ reach of me, he slipped and toppled backward.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a breath in a huff. “This is ridiculous.” I skated forward and held out a hand to him with a soft smile.

“Let’s try again, shall we?”

That wasn’t the only time we went skating over the winter, but it was the most memorable. Tom spent half the time falling on the ice and I spent half the time laughing at how cold he was getting. Not the nicest thing, but I enjoyed it.

We skated a few more times, and before long I found it was Christmas Eve and I had managed to convince Tom to spend it with me.

We sat on the couch, curled up together, and I cuddled into his side with a soft sigh. Christmas specials played out on the television on low volume, but neither of us was paying much attention to them. In the corner of my little living room was a Christmas tree, all done up in bright lights and shining ornaments. We’d put it up together a few days ago, though Tom had seem confused as to why I wanted him to help me with it.

“Are you sure you do not wish to spend the evening with your father?” asked Tom for the second time that day. I rolled my eyes at his needlessly formal tone.

“Yes, I am completely, one hundred percent sure that I don’t want my father to ruin my Christmas.” I cuddled closer to him. “Besides, I’ve got you, right? What more do I need to have a great Christmas?”

He flushed. “You shouldn’t put so much pressure on one person,” he said. “And I still don’t understand why you wanted me here.”

“Because you’re important to me and you make me happy. That’s all there is to it. Frankly, I’m amazed you said yes.” Tom shifted against me uncomfortably and I became suddenly aware that, while he knew a great deal about my family due to necessity, I knew nothing about his own. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, hoping he would not feel obligated to tell me anything that would hurt him.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing and the gentle music from the television. I worried I’d crossed a line. Then, just when I thought Tom would leave, he said, “My brother and I were both SEALs. We both were deployed on the same mission. I came back. He didn’t.” In a very quiet voice, he added. “They blame me.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. What did you say to a man who told you he’d lost his brother in a mission? To a man who seemed to believe that his parents were right? I settled for cuddling closer to him and pressing my face into the crook of his neck.

“I think you’re doing okay,” I mumbled, though I knew it wouldn’t help much. Tom’s arm around my waist tightened and he breathed deeply into my hair.

“Thank you,” he said. For a long time, neither of us spoke. After a while I started to curl closer and closer into his lap, drawn by a hunger slowly building. I shouldn’t have. Tom was obviously enjoying the quiet night and he didn’t seem inclined to change the mood. In the midst of my wiggling, I remembered what had happened the first time we’d fallen into bed together, how Tom had asked me before he ever touched me. We were adults. I didn’t have to be sneaky around Tom, if I wanted something, I could ask.

“Tom?” I asked. I bit my lower lip and toyed with it between my teeth.

“Yes?” he asked into my hair. I looked up and saw that he was still enthralled with the television. I sighed and shook my head.

“Never mind.”

He looked at me. “No, what?” he asked, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. I leaned up and kissed him, starting slow but deepening the pressure as I went. He shifted his hold on my arms and tugged me into his lap. I grinned and pulled back from him, rolling my hips into his. Tom let out a low, guttural groan and tugged me closer to him.

“Well, now this is interesting,” he said, nibbling at the shell of my ear. I hummed and wiggled closer, letting the heat of his body and the heat of my own mingle between us. He chuckled, a sound that was as familiar as it was enticing, and slipped a hand up my shirt. I was braless and he took advantage of that with a pinch to a nipple. A gasp escaped me in a shot of pleasure.

“Bedroom,” I managed. He grinned and nibble at my ear again. His other hand caught the hem of my shirt and pulled it clean over my head. One hand encircled my breast, slowly massaging it as his fingers traced my nipples. I shivered with each brush. His mouth encircled the other, his lips sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Tom, we need more space,” I said. Beneath me, I felt the hard bulge of his erection through his pants against my thigh. His hips were rolling up into mine. “We are not wrecking this couch.”

He sighed, mouth pulling off me. “All right.” He said. And with that, he scooped me up and carried me to my room in both arms – both of us laughing the entire way.