Navy SEAL Series Boxed Set

by Odette Stone

  I raised my eyebrows. “From what I have seen, it looks like Jackson wants to mend the rift too.”

  She sighed. “We'll see.”

  The meal was the Irene-and-Matt show. They were like two old lovers catching up. I stopped counting the number of times she reached out and touched his arm. She laughed at all his inside jokes, and they had a lot of them. Matt held center stage and Irene played his faithful audience. Jackson and I sat silently listening. Matt and Irene had eyes for only each other. They hung onto each other’s words. They talked about things only they knew. My experience at private schools helped me realize that they were excluding us from their conversation. I looked at Jackson who listened with a benign look on his face. He didn’t try to participate, but he didn’t seem annoyed either. A dark thought crossed my mind. Had it been like this when he was a child?

  I sighed and pushed my noodles over my plate. I was still trying to wrap myself around how bizarre the last 24 hours had been.

  Matt had cheated on me. I was still waiting for the shock and the horror to crash over me and send me into another spiraling mess. Some chick had put her mouth around him, and that probably wasn’t the worst of it. It was alarming that I felt nothing over this fact. Shouldn’t I be feeling some measure of anger or pain? Shouldn’t that bother me more than it did? I was more anxious about my lack of reaction than anything.

  Could this all be just because his actions alleviated my own guilty conscious? Or was the shoe going to fall off in a few days and I would lose it? Only time would tell. I just needed to focus on the plan. We were going to get married, and everything was going to work out.

  When we finished eating, Irene announced that she needed a ride back to her hotel.

  “I can take you,” Jackson offered.

  “No,” Matt jumped in. “I'll take her.”

  The competitive nature of Matt embarrassed me. Had I never noticed before how he could act like a jealous, petulant child?

  After they left, Jackson and I cleaned up the kitchen in silence.

  “I’m going out for a bit,” he said.

  “Sure. Have a good night.”

  I jarred awake to the sound of the downstairs door opening. I rolled over and looked at my alarm clock. 2:48 AM. I listened intently and heard footsteps come up the stairs.

  I opened my bedroom door just in time to see Matt walking up the stairs.

  “What are you still doing up?” he asked, a weird expression on his face.

  I rubbed my face and yawned. “I just woke up. Are you just getting home now?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “That must have been quite the talk with your mom.”

  “Yeah, time got away from us.”

  I smiled at him. “That’s nice, babe. I'm glad you two had some time to catch up.”

  “Well, I better get some sleep. I have a long day tomorrow.”

  “Love you,” I said.

  Without answering, he disappeared into his bedroom.

  Chapter 22

  The next morning, as I finished my breakfast, Jackson came in from one of his epic runs.

  “Hi,” I said. My eyes traveled over his huge legs and his messy wet hair. He looked delicious. I averted my eyes.

  “Irene wants to go home today. She asked if I would drive her back, so she doesn’t have to take the train.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  “Did you want to come for a drive?” he asked, his voice sounded casual.

  “Uh,” I paused, knowing that I really should say no. “Sure.”

  “Just going to shower, then we can go.”

  Irene seemed bright and chipper when we picked her up from the hotel considering how late she and Matt had talked. Jackson followed close behind, carry her suitcase like it weighed no more than a cup of coffee. He made everything look easy.

  “You and Matt must have had a good talk last night,” I said to her, as we walked to the truck.

  She smiled. “Well, we chatted a bit on the way back to the hotel, but he said he had a big day today, so he didn’t want to come up.”

  I stopped so short that Jackson ran into me from behind. It was kind of like being run over by a wall of muscle. Instead of knocking me over with his size, his arm snaked around my waist, and he lifted me up for two steps, carrying me with his momentum. I shuddered as his hard body pressed against my back.

  “Sorry about that,” his lips pressed against my ear, all rough and low. His voice sounded amused.

  A ripple of something crazy shot up my spine. “My fault.”

  He held me a fraction longer than necessary and then released me as if nothing had happened. The entire experience left me breathless.

  Irene chatted up a storm with Jackson.

  Last night Matt had told me he had talked late into the night with his mom, but she just confirmed he had only dropped her off. Where had he gone? Was it weird that I had no real emotion about that? I mean, should that not bother me just a bit more than it did? I felt decidedly indifferent about the entire thing.

  Had Matt gone and spent time with the same woman? Another thought that left me completely indifferent. I mentally chewed on my life, uncertain about how to proceed. What if he had needed to drive around and listen to music? He never had alone time. He was either at work or with me. I needed to stop jumping to conclusions and just trust him. We had both promised that we wanted to make this work. Now I needed to trust him and believe that he wanted a fresh start with me.

  My ears perked up as I heard Irene start to grill Jackson.

  “So how many years have you been in the military?”

  “I have been in the navy just over ten years.”

  “You told Harry that you only wanted to join for a couple of years.”

  Jackson didn’t respond.

  “Harry always dreamed that you would follow in his footsteps and become a police officer.”

  “I like being a soldier.”

  She sighed. “Well, at some point you're going to have to get real about your career.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Well, what about marriage? Does your job lend itself to settling down?”

  Silence.

  “Are you dating anyone?”

  The question dangled between them. I refrained from leaning forward to hear his response.

  “Not at the moment.” His voice sounded terse.

  “Now don’t be like that,” Irene lightly scolded. “You have to settle down at some point.”

  Jackson rubbed the back of his neck.

  “What about kids. Don’t you want a family?”

  “Not going to happen.”

  He might as well have turned around and stuck a 9-inch blade into my chest, his words cut so deep. Jackson wasn’t my boyfriend. I was engaged to his pseudo-brother. A hollowness carved out into my chest, but I couldn’t face the reason why.

  “You just need to find yourself a nice girl.”

  Jackson’s eyes glanced at me in the review mirror.

  The conversation moved on, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had just heard. Jackson didn’t want a wife, and he didn’t want babies. Jackson and I were on two different paths, and we wanted very different things. This crush of mine was getting out of control, and if I weren’t careful, it would destroy everything I had worked to build with Matt. I needed to get my act together here and stop thinking about him in any capacity other than as a friend.

  We dropped Irene off and found ourselves back on the road. I bounced my knee while sitting beside him. We were alone. For two hours. Who was I to Jackson? I was his future sister-in-law. Nothing more, nothing less. He was gentle and protective of me, and he made me feel good about myself when he was so encouraging, but that was where it ended. I vowed to refocus my energy on Matt and our wedding. I had to.

  I looked out the window and didn’t even attempt to make conversation.

  “You’re pretty quiet,” Jackson said.

  “I guess,” I said. I glanced over a
t him. He casually held the steering wheel, his sunglasses pushing back through his messy hair.

  The words poured out of my mouth before I could stop them, “Why don’t you want kids or marriage?”

  He frowned.

  “Is that too personal?”

  He leaned forward to look at his side mirror, while he merged onto the highway. “My job complicates stuff.”

  I needed to know. I just needed to hear his words. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “We're gone a lot.”

  I wanted to, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “Lots of relationships deal with separation.”

  He glanced at me. “My job comes with a lot of uncertainty.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He threw me a smile and shrugged. Refusing to answer.

  “Why are you so elusive about your job?”

  “It’s just a job.”

  I picked up my phone and typed in “navy seal” into Google. Hundreds of articles popped up. I scrolled through some of them.

  I started to read off the screen. “It's almost impossible to become a Navy SEAL and only the most elite of the elite, actually make it through the training program. Then they spend over a year training in some of the harshest environments possible.”

  He looked at my phone. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm reading about your job. I want to know what you do.” I scrolled down through another article and began to read out loud. “Combat operations take place in some of the most dangerous locations in the world….Navy SEALs remain calm while fighting terrorists, criminals, pirates, all the while sleep deprived and mentally exhausted.”

  I paused while my mind absorbed that. “You get into fights with terrorists?”

  He rolled his shoulders. “Sometimes.”

  I just stared at him. Taking in his stubble, his long hair, those immense shoulders. Trying to imagine him holding a gun and shooting it. Getting shot at. He glanced at me, his expression questioning.

  I pulled my eyes away from him and started to read some more to him. “SEALs operate in the shadows, approaching life-threatening combative situations via helicopter, submarine, parachute, boat, on foot, or by swimming underwater. They are masters of complicated technology, weaponry, hydrographic surveys, and charts. They specialize in explosives, camouflage, or sniper skills. SEALs have stamina, patience, and put their lives on the line during every single mission without receiving the credit they deserve.”

  Images flashed before my eyes of Jackson taking a running leap out of the back of some plane into a dark abyss. Scaling out of a helicopter. Coming out of the water with the weird fake grass on his head and green face paint while he approached enemies from behind with a knife. It was straight out of some Rambo movie, and it freaked me out.

  I looked over at him. “Please tell me this isn’t your job.”

  He smiled one of his devastating smiles that made my heart flip. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “How dangerous are these missions that you do?”

  Green eyes met mine. He said in a calm voice, “It’s not that bad.”

  At that moment I knew it was probably much worse. “It says that you put your life on the line during every single mission.”

  “We're trained to handle those kinds of situations.”

  “Situations where people are constantly trying to kill you?”

  “Emily, it's just a job. It has its challenges, but it's also rewarding.”

  “Have you ever been shot at?”

  “Once or twice.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand and tossed my phone on the dash. I envisioned Matt getting a phone call and then turning to tell me that Jackson was dead. My chest ached so hard I was struggling to breathe. I looked out the window and forced myself to breathe slowly. Evenly.

  “Emily.”

  “You never told me,” I accused him. “You should have told me right from the start.”

  “What difference would it have made?” he sounded baffled.

  My arms waved in the air. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have let myself be your friend. That’s the difference. Now I am, and I feel sick about this.”

  “So you wouldn’t have become my friend?”

  “Exactly,” I shot back. “I would have protected myself.”

  A strong hand reached over and grabbed my hand. “Don’t think about it.”

  I inhaled a deep breath. “You should come with a warning label. Dangerous job. Might get killed and leave you. Don’t get too close.”

  “Em,” he said. I tugged at my hand, but he refused to let go.

  I looked out the window. “I guess I answered my question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I can understand why women struggle with your job.”

  Chapter 23

  When we arrived home, Jackson and I sat at the island and ate a late lunch in silence. I pushed food over my plate. My appetite was all but gone.

  I mentally lamented about how I could find out my fiancé was cheating on me and it had no emotional impact on me. But the moment I found out about how Jackson worked in a dangerous environment, I felt sick to my stomach. What if he got hurt or killed? Everyone I loved had died on me. Knowing that he continually put himself in life and death situations made me angry. I would never survive another loss. The world was a better place because Jackson was in it. It devastated me to think that he was in mortal danger because of a stupid job. It made me angry, and now I couldn’t eat.

  “Your car should be done tomorrow,” Jackson interrupted my thoughts.

  “Oh thanks,” I sounded listless.

  He eyeballed me and then his gaze dropped to my still full plate. “Everything okay?”

  “Sure.”

  He leaned back. “Want to tell me what’s bugging you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He studied me for a long moment. I dropped my eyes, unable to withstand his scrutiny. I slid off my stool and started to clear my plate. He sat there watching me from beneath the brim of his baseball hat. How could I tell him that his job scared me half to death? If he knew that I was this upset about his job, he might realize that my feelings were a bit more than sisterly. I worked to hide my emotions.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Emily.”

  “Matt cheated on me,” I blurted out.

  His expression didn’t shift. He just continued to observe me.

  “He told me that he fooled around with someone after the party, but he wouldn’t tell me with whom.”

  “He told you that he slept with someone?”

  I rubbed one eye. “He said that they didn’t have sex, they just fooled around.”

  There was a tick in his jaw. “What does that mean?”

  “I guess they kissed. And…”

  “And what?”

  “And she…” My face heated up. “She did things with her mouth.”

  He crossed his arms. “He told you this.”

  I nodded feeling oddly embarrassed. “Yeah.”

  Silence from him.

  I started to load the dishwasher. “People make mistakes, right? I mean, I'm no angel either.”

  Green eyes stared at me.

  I shrugged. “I think I'm just confused about some stuff.”

  Like the fact that people pointed guns at Jackson and tried to kill him. That his job was so dangerous, he didn’t want to get married or have kids. Did that mean he thought he was going to die? How did he sleep at night? How was I ever going to sleep again at night?

  I glanced up at him. His nostrils flared, but he didn’t seem to be reacting at all. I shut the dishwasher and started to wipe down the counters. “Anyways.”

  I finished the counters and turned to walk out of the kitchen, and I almost did a face plant on his hard chest. How he had managed to move so silently around to this side of the island, I had no idea.

  “Oh sorry,” I said.

  I tilted my head back to see if he even saw me, and his gaze, shadowed beneath the b
rim of his hat, was on my face. I took a step back, and he followed, stepping so close to me, he almost touched me. I took another step back, and he kept on coming. I gasped when I bumped into the island, and he stepped in so close. I thought I might faint as the heat of his body radiated around me. I trembled.

  He reached out and then I squeaked as he lifted me. My ass hit the countertop, my eyes now almost level to his face. He placed a hand on either side of me on the counter, his huge arms caging me in, while he leaned forward towards me, bringing his face close to mine. Still, we didn’t touch.

  My eyes were wide and trapped by the intensity of his stare. I was completely still, except for my rib cage, which was working overtime to bring air into my lungs.

  Slowly he leaned in close, bringing his mouth so close to mine, it was less than an inch away. His gaze pinned mine.

  When time slows down, it feels like your brain is in overdrive. Thousands of thoughts flooded through my mind. This was wrong. I needed to stop. Jackson was almost kissing me. He smelled so good. He was so big. He surrounded me. I felt safe. He protected me. Nothing could hurt me. I wanted to feel him.

  With tremulous lips, I slowly, tentatively moved my mouth closer to his. I could feel his breath against my lips. Just one taste. I just needed to know if the other kiss had been a complete fluke. He stood so close. I leaned up a tiny bit further. Our lips barely grazed. Our eyes met. I wanted more. I wanted to touch him. I put my hand around his neck, and my fingers slid over the thick, strong muscles covered by such smooth, warm skin. I used his solid neck as leverage as I pulled my face just a tiny bit closer. He looked into my eyes. His lips felt so soft and pliable against mine. My eyes fluttered shut against his gaze, and I moved my lips to his lips, this time a real kiss.

  The moment he started kissing me back, everything went into overdrive. Two hands lightly pressure the inside of my knees, so that I widened my legs. The moment I did, he stepped in closer. His mouth tortured me, teased me, played with me. One arm came around my back, tugging me, so I was arched up against him. I gasped, my mouth opening to his, his tongue plundered me, sending my entire body into an electrifying Technicolor. His mouth over mine awakened something inside of me that I didn’t recognize or understand. I felt intoxicated, dizzy, as his kiss escalated. He was all primal hot male, taking from me what he wanted. And I loved it. I moaned and clung to his neck, my fingers sliding into his thick hair. His other arm wrapped around my waist and pulled my body hard against him. I groaned as I felt the heat of his stomach through the fabric of my jeans, while he slanted his mouth over mine.