The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family) (9 page)

“What a gorgeous day this angel has for her first trek outside.” Georgia hovered beside Tristan’s truck, wielding a surprisingly hi-tech digital camera that she’d used since Mackenzie’s birth to capture every burp and coo. The weather was perfect. Clear skies without a breath of wind and temperatures in the mid-seventies.

Though a nurse had wheeled Brynn and Mackenzie outside, once the baby was settled in her carrier, Tristan insisted on helping Brynn into the tall truck to sit alongside her daughter.

“Cayden?” she asked her boy who’d hung back from the adults. “Want to sit back here with me?”

He shook his head. “I wanna sit with Tristan.”

Though for safety, Brynn usually preferred Cayden be in the back, just this once, she figured he’d be fine. Maybe the treat of being up front with Tristan would make him feel special?

Donna took the two floral arrangements the garden club had brought, and Georgia held a plastic bag filled with Brynn’s clothes and toiletries, along with a stuffed pink hippo Tristan bought in the gift shop.

With everyone finally in their vehicles and underway, Brynn realized she was exhausted, but in a good way. Having the baby early had again put her in the position of relying on others for purchasing the most basic of infant items. While she’d had the nursery set up for ages, Brynn hadn’t even thought about the car seat or diapers or the multitude of creams and lotions needed for bath time and changing.

“Coach Tristan?” Cayden asked.

“Yessir?” Tristan stopped for a red light.

“Are we gonna practice hitting today? I missed team practice last night and don’t wanna be bad at tomorrow night’s game.”

“I suppose we can play ball for a little while, but we need to help your mom and Mackenzie get settled first. You’re the man of the house, and that means you’ve got a lot of responsibilities.”

After glaring over the seat at the baby, he asked, “Like what?”

“Well...your mom’s probably going to rest a lot the next few days. You should always make sure she has lots of juice and water to drink. You could probably make her snacks, too.”

“I’ll get Mom stuff,” the boy said with a glower, “but I’m not helpin’ that ugly baby.”

“Cayden!”
Brynn snapped. “Your sister is hardly ugly. What’s got into you? You’ve been sour enough to have eaten a whole lemon tree.”

“Leave me alone! I hate all of you!” Arms tightly folded, he turned his glare out the window.

“That’s fine, but I happen to love you very much.” Why, just when Brynn’s life in general seemed to be looking up, was her son having a meltdown? With Tristan as an audience, Brynn was unsure how to handle her son’s latest outburst. Planning to have a good, long talk with Cayden later, she now focused on more manageable issues. “Since I had Mac at a different hospital than planned and can’t wait to see those bills start rolling in, does that mean I’ll get a refund on the money I already paid?”

“I would think so.” Tristan flashed her one of his gorgeous smiles in the rearview. “Want me to check into it?”

“No. But thanks. Pretty sure that’s something I’ll have to handle myself.”

“Cayden,” Tristan said, “we’re not that far from town. Want me to drop you at school, or would you like another day with your mom and sister?”

“School. I hate that baby.”

Brynn shared another look with Tristan. While the commissioner’s call may have lessened her immediate financial worries, where her son was concerned, she’d never been more afraid.

Chapter Nine

While Donna and Georgia hovered about Brynn and Mackenzie, Tristan stood on the fringes, feeling too big and incompetent. He tried thinking back to when Andrea had brought Jack home, but best as he could recall, he’d been sent to Libya only a few days after his son’s birth. Sure, he’d missed the little guy and felt bad for dumping all the responsibilities of new parenthood on Andrea, but those fleeting moments of reality hadn’t squelched his drive to tackle what at the time had felt more urgent. Taking down bad guys had been far more important than helping his wife change diapers or figure out water-to-formula powder ratios.

Earlier in the day, Vivian had stocked the kitchen with homemade casseroles, baked goods and snacks, as well as adorning seemingly every empty surface with bundles of pink balloons and flowers. A handmade Welcome Home, Mackenzie! banner had been hung lopsided over the front door.

Upon seeing it, Brynn’s smile had been epic.

Tristan had fought a flash of jealousy.

Why hadn’t he thought of making a sign? He wanted to be the one causing her happy glow. As much as his head rationalized the ridiculousness of that thought, he couldn’t erase the fact that he wanted to be in Brynn’s life. But why? What was it about her and her little family that made him constantly want to charge to her rescue? Or was it more about his own hang-ups about his badly fumbled past? Was he trying to prove he wasn’t the total parenting and husbanding incompetent Andrea claimed him to be?

“This is all so pretty.” Having left the sleeping baby upstairs, Brynn gave her friend a big hug. “How can I ever thank you?”

“No thanks necessary,” Vivian assured. “That’s what friends are for.”

A shadow passed over Brynn’s expression. “That’s not what I experienced in St. Louis. The second they learned about what Mack had done, you’d have thought I carried his same shameful disease.”

Vivian poured five glasses from the pitcher of fresh-made fruit punch. “Sean told me Mack was cleared of all wrongdoing. That’s wonderful. Maybe now, some of those old friends will apologize?”

“I’m not holding my breath waiting for that day to come. In fact, my plan is to carry on as if I never even heard from the commissioner.” After sipping her beverage, she added, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled my husband’s name was cleared, but that does nothing to erase the damage already done to my heart.”

“But you could have it all again,” Vivian offered. “Just think, you’d be back in your mansion and getting invites to glamorous parties.” A dreamy look settled over Vivian’s features. “If I were you, I’d run to your former life.”

But you’re not Brynn.
Tristan grew furious on Brynn’s behalf. Vivian had no idea what those supposed friends had put Brynn through. Now here she was in Ruin Bayou making new friends, but judging by Vivian, were any of them more genuine? Her trust in every human kindness had been shattered, leaving Brynn in what Tristan could only assume was a shell of her former emotional self.

Tristan cleared his throat. “How about we all get out of here and give Brynn her space.”

“Sure you can handle everything on your own?” Georgia asked, giving the new mom a warm hug.

“I’ll be great, thanks. Really—to all of you, I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

“Aw, it’s been our pleasure.” Donna was next in line for a hug. “Like Georgia said, if you need the slightest little thing, give me a call.”

The two older women’s sincerity caused tears of gratitude to well in Brynn’s eyes. Vivian’s words, Tristan suspected, drew emotion from a deeper, more cynical well.

With everyone on their way save for Tristan, she said, “Who knew SEALs were also verbal warriors? Kudos for a masterful job of sending Vivian on her way.”

“She definitely falls under the category of With friends like her, who needs enemies?”

Brynn chuckled. “I want to believe she means well—look at all she did for Mac’s homecoming. But does she even listen to the words leaving her mouth?”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

From over the baby monitor came a fitful cry.

Brynn shook her head. “And so it begins.”

“While you take care of that cutie, I’m going to switch the safety seat to your car. Where are your keys?”

“On the rack by the back door.”

Completing his task, it occurred to Tristan just how much he’d miss Brynn and Cayden and little Mackenzie if they did return to St. Louis. Which didn’t make much sense, considering it was high time he returned to his Virginia Beach base. He’d had his shot at family life and it’d been an epic fail. Now that Brynn at least had her memories of Mack restored to their former glory, she knew what it was like to lead an idyllic marriage. Tristan wasn’t sure he’d ever known.

* * *

I
T
’
D
BEEN
A
WEEK
SINCE
Mackenzie’s birth and Brynn felt physically stronger every day. Her emotions, however, were an entirely different story. Cayden’s behavior was as gloomy as ever, and late night feedings were taking a toll. Those issues aside, she had a lot to be thankful for. Mackenzie’s overall demeanor was sunny and once Cayden trudged onto his school bus each morning, Brynn settled the baby on a blanket beneath a gnarled-branch pin oak while tending the garden. Oftentimes Georgia would stop by for a chat, and Brynn had started very much enjoying the older woman’s company.

Brynn now sat in the ballpark stands, heart racing as Cayden stepped up to bat. Even though the game was only for practice, she still battled nerves. He might currently be upset with her, refusing to believe she loved him every bit as much as his baby sister, but that hadn’t affected her love for him one iota.

“What do you think of your brother?” Brynn asked Mackenzie, who sat staring wide-eyed in her carrier at her surroundings. “He looks handsome in his practice uniform, huh?”

Brynn looked forward to the time when her daughter not only smiled, but held at least a monosyllable conversation.

The night was pleasant. A light breeze kept away bugs. The scents of fresh-popped corn and hot dogs made Brynn’s stomach growl. She asked her daughter, “Do you have a taste for salty, sweet or both?”

“I’m going for both,” Tristan teased, “but what category do nachos fall under?”

“Hey, you.” Seated on the end of the stands, away from the other parents, Brynn hadn’t expected to see Tristan except for out on the field. “Why aren’t you performing your coaching duties?”

“Oh—” his laugh warmed her through and through “—never fear. I’ll be back to work soon. Just on my way to Jason’s truck to grab a few more bats. Saw you and this beauty sitting over here alone and wanted to say hello. I’ve missed you Langtoines.”

“We’ve missed you, too.” And she had. As busy as Mackenzie had kept her, Brynn craved grown-up conversation.

“If you’re up for company tomorrow night, think Cayden’s ready for more batting lessons?”

“I’m sure he’d love it,” she gushed—only not so much out of excitement for her son, but herself. Something about Tristan made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in a very long time. A thought that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Great. I’ll see you guys tomorrow night. Six?”

“Yes. Great.” Brynn prayed her voice didn’t give away the fact that she felt like a teen facing her new crush. “Want to stay for dinner?”

“No,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “But I appreciate the offer.”

That once giddy tingle in her stomach? Firmly put in its place by reality. Tristan was no more interested in her than she should be interested in him. And really, what did she have to offer other than a wagonload of baggage? Considering he had the same, honestly, even if she was in the market for a new beau, there was nowhere for their relationship to go.

* * *

“H
OW
WAS
PRACTICE
?”

Tristan walked in the back door to find his mother demolishing a bag of Oreos. “Aw, Mom, what’re you doing? You’ve been awesome at your diet.”

“I know.” She handed him the bag. “But in my defense, it was your ex that drove me to them.”

After tossing the bag in the trash, he asked, “What’d Andrea do?”

“She called about an hour ago—I guess she was returning your call? Anyway, I asked to talk to Jack and she told me he was in the pool and she didn’t want him tracking water through the house.”

“Sorry.” He enfolded her in a loose hug, kissing the top of her head. “The reason I called her was to see when Jack’s out of school. I want to see him. Wanna go?”

“You know it.”

He left her to rummage in the fridge. Finding shaved turkey, he asked, “Want me to make you a grinder?” His official SEAL knickname was Grinder, given to him by his friends when after BUD/S training, he’d downed a good half dozen of the Italian sandwiches in an hour. “I’ll hide veggies on it so well you won’t even know they’re there.”

Sighing, she sat at the oak table. “I suppose. Do I get lots of ranch dressing on it, too?”

She might be his mom, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t shoot her a dirty look. “Since I want you with me for at least a hundred more years—no.” He blew her a kiss.

“Was Brynn at Cayden’s practice?”

“Sure was.” Arms laden with lettuce, peppers and a cuke, he said, “Little Mackenzie was with her, too. Man, what a pretty baby. She could be one of those kid models.”

“Is Cayden adjusting any better to having a sister?”

“Not even a little bit.” He spread mustard on a whole wheat roll. “I know it’s not my place to step in, but I feel compelled to do something—at least out of respect for Mack.”

“Hmm.” Flipping through a stack of gardening and craft catalogs, his mom shook her head. “Ask me, what that boy needs is a father who’ll give him a firm hand.”

“Mom...” He set her sandwich in front of her before starting on a couple of his own.

“What? I’m only saying what everyone else in town is thinking. Cayden needs a father and you need a son.”

“With all due respect, Mom, know what you need?”

She sweetly smiled. “More Oreos?”

“To mind your own business.” Brynn had lost the love of her life to murder. The last thing she or her kids needed was for some guy who thrived in deadly combat to enter their lives.

* * *

B
Y
MID
-J
UNE
, M
ACKENZIE
was growing like a weed and Brynn felt almost back to her usual energetic self. Cayden was still less than enthusiastic about his sister, but at least with school out for the summer, he’d given the constant glaring a rest.

Tristan came over most every night, helping Cayden with his hitting, and the work was paying off. In the Mud Bug’s first game, Cayden had made it to first base. Unfortunately, the inning ended before he had the chance to score, but he was still pretty pumped. For the precious few smiles Brynn had seen on her son lately, she owed all of them to Tristan. She’d invited him to share their evening meal more times than she could count, but always, he had a ready-made excuse.

She’d just finished up that night’s dishes and stood at the kitchen sink, watching out the window as her boy caught throw after throw. Tristan was so kind and patient with him. It pained Brynn to think how much his own son was missing by not having Tristan in his life. Sure, they’d soon share a visit, but visits weren’t the same as sharing in a child’s everyday existence.

With Mackenzie snoozing in her crib, Brynn carried the baby monitor outside, applauding Cayden’s latest catch. “You’re getting so good!”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“When you guys are done,” Brynn offered, “if you’re hungry, I brought homemade cookies from today’s garden club meeting. Georgia made them and they’re not only fancy, but delicious.”

“Sounds good.” Tristan didn’t let up with the action. To Cayden, he said, “Okay, bud, I want you to go farther out, that way you’ll be able to catch any ball, anywhere on the field.”

“Okay!” Cayden ran far past his fort.

Brynn tried focusing strictly on her son, but Tristan’s shoulders and back as he wound up his pitches were a sight to behold. Then there was the sun-kissed strip of his neck just above his T-shirt collar. In full daydream mode, she wondered what it’d be like to step up behind him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her hands to his chest, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to the tantalizing bit of exposed skin. She could only imagine his intoxicating smell—sun and sweat and that extra, manly something that never failed to raise her pulse a few notches.

What are you doing?
her conscience demanded.

For the rest of Tristan and Cayden’s practice, Brynn’s attention was solely on her son. But then Dominic rode up on his bike to play hide-and-seek in the fading light, leaving Brynn on her own with a man who she was almost ashamed to admit fascinated her.

“He’s doing great.” Tristan sauntered in her direction, setting her pulse racing all over again. As good as he looked from behind, his front view was that much better.

“I’m glad. Thanks again for your help.”

He shrugged. “Got anything to drink?”

“Sure. What’s your pleasure?”

“I’d love a beer,” he said with a slow, sexy grin, “but I’m guessing since you’re breastfeeding Mac, that’s the one thing you probably don’t have?”

Cheeks superheated, she nodded. “We do have apple juice, milk, fruit punch and that old standby, water.”

He laughed. “Water will do—and some of those cookies.”

“You got it.”

He offered to help, but she directed him to one of the patio chairs. Upon her return she sat beside him, accompanied by sounds of the boys’ laughter, the neighbor’s sprinkler and plenty of singing crickets.

“You weren’t kidding,” he said after finishing his first cookie. “Georgia makes a mean gingersnap—loving the cream cheese icing.”

“Told you.”

After more strained silence, Brynn summoned the courage to blurt, “Did I do something to offend you? We used to talk a lot—and I liked that. Now you’re here all the time, but I feel like you avoid me like the plague.”