by Dawson, Zoe
“Who is that?”
“He’s one of the warriors on the project I’m doing, so hands off. No distractions.”
Her mouth went all sulky. Jess was a beautiful girl with a lot of attributes Willow suspected Hollywood would admire.
“Fine. You get all the good ones.” She gave Willow a tight smile.
“I promise. The next one is yours,” Willow said. That brightened Jess’s smile, and Willow laughed softly. “Could you cover my last hour?”
“Willow,” Jess said with worry clouding her eyes. “When was the last time you slept? Ate? Rested?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
“Don’t you have to finish the photo shoot with the petty officer? You have a deadline. It sounds like you’ll need to be on your toes.”
“He’s a charming handful.”
“Rub it in, bitch,” she said, slinging her arm good-naturedly around Willow’s neck, hugging her. “Have you found your dad?”
Willow’s stomach jolted. The worry that never left her completely rushed through her. “No. I’m going to go back out, and I want to get started. I’m so worried.”
“He’ll turn up. He always does,” she said with a tight squeeze. “Of course, I’ll cover your shift. God knows you’ve totally covered my ass many times. Get some rest.”
Jess sashayed up to the bar and went around it, grabbing up her apron and striking up a conversation with Hollywood, but he barely looked at her. His eyes followed Willow, and she couldn’t help the little frisson of heat that realization gave her.
“Order up!” Ron yelled as Willow walked back behind the bar and pinned all her orders to the metal wheel. Grabbing Hollywood’s plate, she set it in front of him, got him silverware and a napkin and refreshed his coffee. She untied her apron and started for the back.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
Was it her imagination, or did he sound disappointed? “Yes. I’ll see you later. Could you come by at two this afternoon?”
“Sure. I can be there.”
Willow grabbed her purse off the hook in the back as she went through the swinging door. She waved to Kim, who had taken over for Lenny the Complainer. Back at home, she hoped to find her dad in bed, but the house was empty, and there were no signs that he’d been there at all. She showered and changed into capris and a white peasant blouse with embroidery on the sleeves. After braiding and coiling her hair, she set a white beret on her head. She was already mentally planning her route, but by the time she got to the first place to search, she was feeling more exhausted than ever.
Her dad frequented this area near the First Avenue Bridge. It was the only bridge that was used for vehicles, and she could hear the traffic as it crossed above her head, the freight train sounds muffled by distance. She was in the valley below or the Maple Canyon Open Space, surrounded by majestic eucalyptus trees, dots of color from vibrant coral bougainvillea, pampas grass and palm trees. He would rough it to avoid people entirely when he was feeling caged or overwhelmed.
She rubbed at her temple and was just about to leave when she heard Hollywood’s voice. “Jessica’s right. You need to ask for help.”
Willow spun to see him and people—a lot of people—trailing behind him. Men and women, a couple of them holding hands moved toward her, Hollywood in the lead. He still looked good, and she at least felt marginally better after having had a shower.
“Do I need to add harassment to those stalking charges?” she asked, shading her eyes as he approached, stopping way too close to her. She could feel the heat from his body and smell his delicious clean scent of spice and citrus.
He flashed a grin.
“Want me to cuff him for you, lady?” a dark-haired man asked.
“Yeah, we can rough him up a bit too,” a tall man said gruffly. He had a Texas twang to his speech and the hand of a beautiful woman with black hair, dressed in skinny jeans and a black T-shirt with a sugar skull in the center.
“Your friends are so helpful,” she said looking up into those intense blue eyes.
“You have no idea,” he murmured as he studied her face. “Jessica spilled the beans about your dad. We never leave any of our own behind. He’s part of the SEAL community, and we want to help you find him.”
“Maybe you should introduce me to your ‘we,’ and we’ll get started.”
Hollywood turned to the people behind him. “This is Lieutenant Bowie Cooper, but he goes by LT or Ruckus. There are a lot of names, so let’s just stick to our call names. That’s Cowboy and his wife, Kia, Blue and his wife, Charlie, Scarecrow and his fiancée, Yana, and the last couple is Dozer and my sister, Emma. Then, we have Tank, Kid Chaos, Wicked and Hemingway, Kid’s brother-in-law and SEAL in training.”
“I think that’s a big enough posse to be hunting for your dad,” Cowboy said.
Emma came forward and nudged her brother aside as she took Willow’s hands. “We’ve got your back, Willow. I’ve been part of the SEAL community ever since my brother joined, and now, I’m involved with a former SEAL, so believe me when I tell you we’re one hundred percent committed.”
Willow felt Emma’s warmth, and her beauty rivaled Hollywood’s. But there was something innate in the immediate connection, something in her eyes and her smile that Willow immediately liked. This family was full of charismatic members. And his team was another wow factor. She hadn’t seen this many gorgeous men in one place ever.
“Hoo-yah!” The sharp, loud collective shout startled Willow.
Emma squeezed her hands. “Do you have a picture of your dad?”
Willow reached for the phone in her bag and grabbed it, pulling up a picture of him. Emma took it and studied it, Dozer and Hollywood looking over her shoulder.
“He’s very handsome,” Emma said as she smiled, her eyes lighting up.
She passed the phone around, and each member of their search party studied the screen before passing it along.
Hollywood said, “So, where do you think your dad might be?”
“Several possibilities. The rose garden in Balboa Park. It’s where he proposed to my mom, and he goes there often. National Avenue homeless shelter downtown. Veteran’s Village—he says the food is good there. The Rescue Mission. Coronado Beach for obvious reasons. Balboa Park in general. Mission Bay. He likes to fish off the pier. And finally, All In Bar and Grille, but that’s closed so we won’t find him there.”
“We’ll take Coronado Beach,” Hollywood said, indicating that he would be going with her.
She was so grateful for their help, and it was all his doing. She had to wrap her head around him having a gorgeous heart to go with all his physical beauty. Why did he have to be so charismatic, so damn cute and competent? She grumbled to herself. He continued on with his organization and directions. Blue and Charlie took National Avenue; Kid and Hemingway settled on the rose garden along with Ruckus, and Dozer and Emma who would look around expansive Balboa Park. That left Scarecrow and Yana to search Veterans Village, and Tank and Wicked would check out the Rescue Mission. Cowboy and Kia planned to scour Mission Bay.
“I can drive,” he said.
“All right.” She gave that over to him. She wasn’t sure he’d had any more sleep than she had, but she wasn’t up to focusing on the road with him sitting so close in the passenger seat.
They got inside his car, and she buckled herself in. Hollywood started the engine and checked for traffic before he pulled into the lane. His hands on the wheel looked strong, with wide palms, long fingers. Capable hands that carried a weapon and fired it with ease. Those hands had killed more than once, like her own dad. Both of them were warriors, her dad no less one because he wasn’t serving his country anymore. The similarities in them were unsettling to her because she admired her father so much. It stood to reason. SEALs were a different breed of the military—tighter, fiercer, bound together by a brotherhood that was unshakable. She wondered absently what that would feel like to have that kind of commitment.
�
��Your sister is beautiful,” Willow said. Just like you.
“She’s a brat but thanks. I guess we got good genes.”
“You are close?” she asked.
He turned onto Fourth Avenue then merged onto I-5. Traffic wasn’t bad this time of the morning.
“Very. She’s two years younger than I am, so we’re close in age. We were best friends most of our lives.” He couldn’t mask the affection in his voice or the way his face softened when he talked about her.
Her heart tilted a little bit. “Most?”
Hollywood grinned, and it was as potent as before. “Ha, little sisters can be a pain in the butt, especially when they keep bugging you to play with Barbies.” He shot her a wry, almost sheepish look.
There was no way she was giving up this opportunity, and it hurt how damn cute he was. “Did you do a lot of furniture arranging in the Dream House, Designer Hollywood?”
He laughed softly. “Hey, don’t judge. She was amazing at baseball, threw a mean fastball. It was a freaking trade-off, okay? And, Barbie got a taste of good old GI Joe.”
“How could she ever go back to Ken after that?”
“Right. Hoo-yah.” He took the exit to Orange Avenue.
“What do your mom and dad do?”
“My mom’s an accountant. My dad died when I was thirteen, and Emma was eleven. He was a San Diego police officer. It was a robbery gone bad, and he took one to the chest. He didn’t make it to the hospital.”
“I’m so, so sorry.”
He nodded.
“That’s a hard age. What am I saying? Any age is hard. I just mean, you need your dad more when you’re younger.” She clasped her right hand and worried the palm with her thumb. “My mom died when I was twenty-three. My dad was deployed, and I think it was hard on him. He was on one of those top-secret missions. I had no idea where he was or when he’d be home. I couldn’t tell him on one of my Skype calls. He needed to focus, and I think it would have messed him up terribly during that mission to tell him.”
“You had to hold that in and act like everything was okay?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
A sudden ache constricted her throat, and she swallowed past it. “Two weeks. By the time he got back, the funeral was over, and he never got to see her again.”
When he’d walked through the door, she’d had to sit him down and tell him about his beloved Joann. His face went ashen, and he sat there for a moment. Then her tough, combat hardened warrior dad cried like a baby. He would never acknowledge that the Navy had stolen his chance to say goodbye to his wife. Even her mom would have told him if she’d been able to talk to him from the beyond that they knew they loved each other. She understood what he did and why, and she had supported him as steadfastly as Willow had, swallowing her own pain, dealt with the day-to-day tediousness of living so that he could be free to do what he was meant to do.
“I’ve never seen him so devastated,” she said.
The sorrow from that moment settled like a blanket on her heart. Feeling close to tears again, she tried to wall away the pain, but her armor was cracking, and she was so terrified she would never find him. The sense of abandonment would be permanent this time, and she would be alone.
“I think now that he’s retired, it’s even harder on him. He hasn’t been home for more than a few days since he came back. He just disappeared one day, and I had no idea where he’d gone. I thought something had happened to him.” Her voice went wobbly, and she let out a hard breath.
He covered her hand and the sudden warmth of his touch radiated through her as he squeezed gently, but he didn’t let her go, and she was grateful for that small show of support.
This man had layers, and more layers to discover sucked. She didn’t want him to be anything but shallow. Then it would have been so easy to dismiss him and not even look back. But Jude Lock intrigued her so much. There was a story there that he didn’t think she’d understand. She had to wonder what he was looking for or if he had been too scared to define what it was—like she was now. Just letting life flow around her, like she had all the time in the world to decide what it was going to be.
They pulled into the parking lot off Isabella Avenue. He turned off the ignition and twisted to face her.
“SEALs are tough, but when it comes to family, we’re creampuffs. It sounds like your dad is working through some shit. When he does, he will confide in you. Losing his team…that’s heavy duty.” He swallowed and looked away, his eyes going moist. “I lost everyone on my team except Dozer. We kept each other alive through some harrowing situations—hand-to-hand combat, being hunted like animals, running for our lives—but we knew we could depend on each other. Have I ever gotten over those deaths? No. It’s not something you get over. It’s something you live with, going over and over it in your head wondering if you could have done anything differently. I loved those guys. They were my brothers, just like Ruckus and the team I’m part of now. Family.”
Willow threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. She didn’t question her actions. It just felt right. Hollywood hugged her to him, crushing her against him for comfort. He was sorely testing her sense of balance. Their chance bond was as unexpected as it was initially unwanted. She didn’t mind him being more approachable, but she couldn’t afford to let herself become any more attracted to him. She couldn’t risk it. Besides, their time was limited. Once the shoot was over, he wouldn’t have any reason to be involved with her. It didn’t change how she was feeling right now though.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered.
“We’ll find him, Willow. Just a matter of time.”
She nodded and pulled away. They got out of the car and walked to Ocean Boulevard, crossing once the traffic eased.
Hollywood walked close to her, like he was protecting her, and it felt strange to have someone who was focused solely on her. As much as she wanted to distrust his motives and keep her distance, he wasn’t making it easy. She hadn’t expected to have anything in common with him and still felt that they wouldn’t be compatible in the bright light of day—a fantasy with him might be nice—where it mattered for the long term.
The sky was an aching cerulean blue, lighter than Hollywood’s eyes by a shade. The sun was warm, and the sound of the ocean filtered to her, first the crashing waves then the sounds of gulls. She could taste the salt in the air on her lips when she wet them. They hit the sand and headed toward the water.
“Where does he normally go?” Hollywood asked.
“Right around here. He loves this view. It reminds him of BUD/S. He comes here to reminisce.”
“Hoo-yah,” he said under his breath, scanning the shoreline. “Let’s get closer.”
They walked toward the crashing surf, and the beach was sparsely populated. When she got close to the water, she shaded her eyes and looked out, thinking about how her father was feeling when he stood here, all the memories that must crowd him along with the corresponding feelings.
She stiffened when she saw something floating in the water. Something with a green tinge to it. “Oh, God. Oh, God.”
Her shoulders sagged, a sob twisting loose. She recognized that bobbing debris.
It was her dad’s coat.
7
Willow started at a run for the ocean with Hollywood shouting her name. She plunged into the surf, the water cold, but barely felt it against her bare legs, soaking into her capris, her underwear.
She swam even though it felt like her legs would give out, and when she reached the cloth, she pulled at it, praying with all her might it wasn’t her dad. It was heavy, and her heart went into her throat. She couldn’t see through the churning water. She struggled with the garment until Hollywood, cutting through the water as easily as a dolphin, dove underwater. It was a few seconds before he surfaced.
“It’s not him. It’s snagged in a bunch of seaweed.” His words were whipped away by the wind, the water splashing around them, the
surf punishing. She could barely stay upright, and she was at the end of her endurance. “It’s not him.”
In her panic, she kept pulling, her strength dwindling. Strong hands grabbed her upper arms and shook her gently.
“Willow, it’s not him.” Hollywood caught her by the chin and forced her gaze away from the coat and to him. “Stop it, babe,” he commanded firmly. “He’s not in the coat.”
She didn’t know how long she stood there. Long enough, though for her breathing to level out and her mind to clear. Blinking back the tears that still threatened, her insides felt like lead. The sharp rush of panic gave way to crushing relief.
She stared numbly at him, her chest heaving and hurting, her breath raw. He gave her a reassuring tilt of his mouth. Slipping his arms around her as she started to shiver, he said, “The days that break us are the days that make us. You know that, and I know that. Your dad sure as hell knows that. He was the one who taught it to me.” He gritted his teeth, his words coming out hard. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”
“You—re—pushy and b-b-big. A-a-a b-b-b-ul-ly.”
“Damn, right. Your dad is bringing the bastard out in me. He’s a fucker for scaring you like this.” He mashed her against him, his eyes a stormy blue, the charmer lost in all that steel. “Do it, or so help me, you’re going into a fireman’s carry. Either way, I’m getting you out of this water and home. This is the end of the road for you today. You need sleep and food.”
His jaw was set in a hard line, and he was completely pissed off at her dad. The intense look on his face made her heart slam back up into overdrive. He was trouble. She’d walked face first into it of her own free will by initiating the calendar. “B-b-u-t th-the s-s-sho-ot.”
“Is your neck itchy?”
“N-n-n-o.” She didn’t think she could laugh, but she huffed out a shivering breath, her teeth chattering.
“It can freaking wait then, ma’am.”
Willow wondered if he realized how gruff he sounded. This was the warrior she’d only seen briefly, and she couldn’t wait until she had him out of his tight shirts and snug jeans, every article of clothing so she could unwrap him, layer by layer, through her lens and beneath her brush. Her mind, that damn imagination, took it one step further. She closed her eyes, beneath her hands, against her mouth, sprawled all over her, deep inside her. Was she beginning to lose her sanity? It was easy to do when he was near her, but now with him up against her like this, all six feet of warm, smooth skin wrapped around converging layers of ironbound muscle, sinew and bone, she couldn’t seem to keep a hold of her reasoning.