“He’s a Navy SEAL,” Rebecca reminded him. “I’m sure he can hold his own against Sarah.”
Patrick chuffed out a laugh. “Have you met my sister?”
“Good point.”
Abby came back into the kitchen a few minutes later after getting dressed, and they all sat down to have bagels. An hour later Patrick, Rebecca, and the kids were piled into Patrick’s SUV, driving down Atlantic Avenue to the realtor’s office.
“Are you sure we can’t go to the beach today?” Abby asked from the back seat. “We always do that on the weekends in the summer.”
Rebecca exchanged a look with Patrick. “Not today, sweetie. We have some errands to run. But maybe we can go to the playground and get some ice cream later on if we get everything done.”
“Oh, I hate errands,” Logan muttered.
Patrick eyed him in the rearview mirror. “But you like ice cream.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ll be good.”
“What’s a realtor anyway?” Abby asked.
“Remember how I told you we might be moving soon? A realtor helps you sell your house.”
“We’re selling our house?”
“Maybe. I don’t know yet for sure, sweetie. We might just rent it to someone else. It depends on a lot of different things. But you and I are planning to move in with Patrick and Logan, like we talked about.”
“Will I get my own room?”
“Absolutely,” Patrick said. “We can set it up just like your room now or even paint it a different color if you want.”
“Can I paint it?” she asked. “I’m so good at painting. My teacher even said so.”
“I could use some help,” Patrick said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.
“I want to help, too,” Logan said.
“You can both help,” Rebecca replied.
“Are we moving tomorrow?” Abby asked. “After you meet with the real person?”
“Realtor. And not tomorrow, honey. We still need to pack up our things and make room in Patrick’s house. We’ll move over the summer.”
“Is it summer now?”
“It is, but we have to get our things ready before we can move.”
“I don’t want to forget anything in my room.”
Rebecca smiled. “Me either, sweetie. And we’re not in a rush. We’ll do one thing at a time, and by the end of the summer, we’ll be all set.”
Patrick pulled into the parking lot, finding an empty space under a palm tree. He reached over and took her hand, his strong, sure fingers wrapping around hers. Her heart fluttered unexpectedly, and she beamed at him. This was really happening. They’d talked about putting her house on the market or potentially renting it out if that made the most sense, but she and Patrick were taking the next step. Meeting with a realtor. Moving in together. Having a baby.
They were going to be a family.
He raised her hand to his mouth and lightly brushed his lips across the back of it, the heat from his touch sending shivers racing down her spine.
She flushed as she smiled at him. “Ready?” she asked.
“Hoorah. This might be the best Sunday afternoon we’ve had in a while.”
REBECCA’S STOMACH ROILED as she turned on the news early the following morning—and for once it wasn’t due to her morning sickness. The newsfeed on CNN indicated a video had surfaced of the American woman being held hostage in Afghanistan. Although there’d been brief mention of the situation in the media over the past week, this was the first time the young woman’s image flashed across the screen.
Word from the Pentagon is that troops will be sent in on a secret rescue operation to obtain the missing American woman, the anchorman said.
She froze as she watched the news anchor begin to interview a former military intelligence officer. Of course the military would send in a team to rescue her—maybe even Patrick’s team. He’d mentioned they’d be deploying soon. Although after it hadn’t come up again in the past week, she’d allowed herself to momentarily relax and focus on their plans to move in together. To put whatever future deployments he had in the back of her mind.
Because that was just it, wasn’t it? He’d always be deploying somewhere with his team. He’d devoted his entire career to serving his country, and that wasn’t going to change just because their situation was.
This most recent incident felt different though—scarier. Like somehow everything was at stake. It was probably just because she was pregnant, she rationalized. Patrick had been gone plenty of times when they’d been together. Even when they’d first met, he’d vanished, sent off on a deployment to God knows where.
And this just in, the anchorman continued, the group claiming responsibility for the kidnapping are demanding $50 million for her release. No word on the condition of the hostage, although it is believed video footage will be released soon.
Her cell phone began buzzing, and her heart stopped.
No one would need to call her this early in the morning unless there was an emergency. But Patrick couldn’t have left yet. Wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye. This was just coming on the news right now, and he hadn’t even made arrangements for her to watch Logan. Although the men could be wheels up within a few hours, they did need to pack their bags. Arrive on base. Meet with the CO and get whatever briefings were required.
Which meant it was probably Patrick calling to say he had to deploy.
She grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter and saw his name flash on her screen. “I’m on my way over,” Patrick’s deep voice said over the phone. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
So this was it. He was no doubt leaving. She retied the sash on her silk robe, thankful she’d already showered and dried her hair. Not that she cared about him seeing her first thing in the morning, but she wanted a few minutes to talk to him before Abby woke up and they had to leave for work and camp.
She needed some private time alone for them to say their goodbyes.
Her stomach lurched.
Would it always be this hard when he was leaving? Other spouses had deployments that were a year long. Some even more. His SEAL team usually got in and got out, bringing him back within a week or two if not days upon occasion. This was nothing compared to what other people endured.
The sound of his SUV pulling in the driveway a few minutes later drew her gaze toward the windows. Goodness. It had been only a week ago when he’d made love to her in front of the window in the evening sun, telling her he wanted her to think of it the next time he was gone.
To remember that moment every night when she fixed dinner.
Her heart always ached every time he left, but now?
He was literally leaving a piece of himself behind.
His baby.
And she knew it wouldn’t get any easier over the next year.
The sound of the front door opening had her turning in the kitchen, and then she was rushing toward him. Throwing herself into his arms.
Patrick was decked out in his fatigues, a grim expression on his face. But he hauled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair as he held her close. “I’m leaving.”
“I know; I just saw the news.”
“I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone. Hell, I hate leaving you.”
She sniffed, trying to fight back tears.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice gruff. “Don’t cry.”
“It’s silly, I know,” she said. “Crazy pregnancy hormones or something.”
He ducked down, giving her tender kisses. He smelled of aftershave and soap, and there was something undeniably sexy at having him standing there in the foyer in his fatigues and combat boots, looking like a hardened warrior, while she had on only her silk robe.
“Is Abby asleep?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “She’s still in bed.”
He turned and abruptly carried her back toward the bedroom, Rebecca clinging to him. “Don’t y
ou have to be on base?” she asked, looking up at him in surprise.
“Not for thirty more minutes.” He lowered her to the edge of the bed, and then he was fumbling with the sash of her robe, gently leaning her backwards. Her legs dangled over the side of the bed as he bared her to him, and he ducked lower, kissing and nuzzling her neck before he moved to her bare breasts.
His hot kisses on her sensitive flesh left her gasping for breath. Had warmth surging through her entire body. One large hand massaged a breast while he kissed the other one, moving around the areola before sucking her nipple into his mouth. She cried out and felt arousal dampen her folds. His fingers slid to her core, and she was already wet and ready for him. Desperate for them to be joined together as one.
He moved to her other breast, softly biting the underside, before he kissed his way to her nipple, flicking his tongue over the tender, sensitive bud. Electricity shot straight through her, and he slid two thick fingers inside her molten channel, causing her to gasp at the intimate invasion. He scissored his fingers, stretching and readying her for him, his thumb rubbing over her clit.
Standing before her, he freed his throbbing erection. He gripped both her legs behind the knees, spreading her wide for him, and then he was lining up with her core and pushing inside her. Consuming her. He held her in place at the edge of the bed as he slid in and out, and the slow, erotic pace that he set was pure torture. She was damp with arousal, desperate for release, and he pinned her with a heated gaze, knowing she was totally at his mercy.
She moaned, tossing her head to the side, and he pulled all the way out and then slammed back in, causing her to cry out in surprise. Her hand flew to her mouth so she didn’t wake Abby, and suddenly he was thrusting faster. Harder.
Rebecca gasped and closed her eyes as he held her legs open and took her. She surrendered to Patrick, to the pure pleasure, and cried out at the exquisite pressure of him filling her that was nearly too much to bear.
Two more deep thrusts and she was coming, calling out his name as he bent over and kissed her, swallowing her cries. He hardened impossibly more and was releasing inside her. Groaning as her inner walls clamped down around him.
She lay gasping, slowly coming back to reality after the Earth-shattering orgasm. With her legs spread apart in his firm grip and his cock buried deep inside her inner walls, she was utterly and truly his to command.
A few seconds later and he was regretfully pulling free. Pulling her up off the bed and into his arms. She collapsed against his chest, letting her tears fall as he stroked her hair. Promised he’d come home soon.
“Be careful when you’re gone,” she whispered.
“You know I’ll always be safe,” he assured her. “I’ll always come back to you and the kids.” He palmed her bare breast and ducked lower, kissing her once more. And then he was stepping back all too soon, pulling the sides of her silk robe together so she was covered. “I wish I could stay longer. I had to come see you before I left.”
“I know,” she sniffed, retying her robe as she gazed up at him with watery eyes. “I’ll miss you. Promise you’ll be careful.”
“I promise. I love you,” he said, his blue eyes full of emotion.
“I love you, too.”
Rebecca took his large hand in both of hers, and they walked back to the front door together. She trembled as they stood in the foyer, unable to shake the feeling of dread washing over her.
“I’ll see you soon,” Patrick said, his voice deep.
“See you soon,” she said, letting him brush his lips against hers one last time in a tender kiss.
And then, all too soon, he was gone.
Chapter 8
PATRICK MUTTERED A curse as he climbed back into his SUV in Rebecca’s driveway. Staying here making love to her all morning wasn’t exactly an option; he had a goddamn job to do. The CO needed him on base ASAP for an emergency briefing with the Pentagon. The other men had been notified to pack their bags and report to base immediately.
And Patrick was already on his way.
Hell, adrenaline had already been rushing through his veins before he’d spontaneously carried Rebecca off to the bedroom. He’d needed to see her before he left, to kiss her goodbye, but lying her down on the bed to claim her once more as his hadn’t exactly been part of the plan.
As soon as he’d kissed her, he’d been desperate to be closer though. He’d needed to feel her inner walls clamping down around his rock-hard cock, to kiss her senseless, to hear her crying out his name as he brought her to release.
He’d wanted to make her come several more times—to flip her over and take her from behind, watching her fists clutch the sheets in desperation as he thrust into her and sent her over the edge. He’d needed to spread her out on the bed and kiss every square inch of her soft skin, laving at the sweet folds between her legs until she was coating his tongue with her release.
He clenched his jaw, gripping the steering wheel as he headed onto the highway leading to base.
He didn’t have time for any of that this morning. Cutting their lovemaking to a session that was short and sweet was all he could do.
And hell if he wouldn’t be dreaming of her sweet cries and silken walls on the long journey over to Afghanistan.
He dropped his gear in the locker room and hurried to the bullpen, where the CO was watching the live feed from CNN. Patrick crossed his arms, seething at the relentless coverage all over the media. Nothing like giving the enemy a head’s up that the U.S. military was on its way. They were putting the life of the American woman in danger and jeopardizing the rescue operation before it had even begun.
His CO pounded his fist on the table in frustration. “At least they don’t know how high this goes. She’s not even the daughter of a congressional aide, but a damn Senator.”
Patrick narrowed his gaze. “You’d think Congress would be doing everything in their power to keep this quiet, not have it blasted over the national news.”
The secure video connection went through a moment later, and the CO and Patrick were staring at a roomful of generals and admirals in a secure conference room at the Pentagon.
“We’re sending your team in,” Admiral Davis barked. “Team Delta as well. Chatter confirms the hostage is in the camp shown in the sat imagery. It’s all over the damn media. We’re going to retrieve the hostage before they move her to a secondary location or make good on their threats.”
“Understood,” Patrick’s CO replied.
“Word hasn’t leaked yet that she’s the Senator’s daughter, but with the way this shit storm is brewing, it’s only a matter of time. I want her out of there before that makes the evening news.”
“The Blackhawks are on standby,” the CO said in a clipped tone. “My SEAL team will be on the next C-17 out of Virginia.”
“Team Delta is already en route,” Admiral Davis continued. “You’ll meet up at base in Afghanistan, and the teams will go in at 2300 tomorrow night.”
“Sir, we’ll retrieve the Senator’s daughter,” Patrick assured him, his blood boiling.
“I don’t doubt it,” the Admiral said. “We all know how pressing this matter is.”
The connection disappeared, and the CO turned to Patrick. “Notify the rest of the team we’re deploying immediately. They should already be on their way in to base but don’t have the details yet. Flight leaves in two hours. I’ll be watching the takedown of this op live.”
“Understood,” Patrick said. “We’ll coordinate with Delta once we land?”
“Affirmative. You’ll have specs and coordinates to review on your flight over. Hash out the final details there. You’ll each be approaching the camp from opposite directions. We don’t want them getting wind of this op and heading out with the hostage.”
“I’ll notify the rest of the men,” Patrick said.
Two hours later he was walking up the ramp of a C-17 cargo plane, his ninety-pound rucksack on his back. A salty breeze blew in off the nearby ocean, and he took
a deep breath. Nothing like trading the gorgeous Virginia Beach weather for the Afghani desert.
Christopher “Blade” Walters, the computer guru of their SEAL team, fell in step behind him. “Delta is already on their way?” he asked.
“Probably almost there,” Patrick confirmed. “Hunter’s got a good team,” he said, referring to Hunter “Hook” Murdock. “Hell, if he had his way, they’d probably already have conducted the rescue op by the time we arrive.”
Christopher chuffed out a laugh. “Sounds familiar, Ice,” he said, shooting Patrick a knowing look. “You aren’t exactly the type to sit around.”
Patrick smirked. “Hell, I don’t blame the guy. Get in, get the girl, get out. The Pentagon’s set on sending both teams in to complete the extraction though.”
“Well, Delta can sit on their asses knitting, waiting until the real boys arrive,” Brent joked, joining the rest of the team on the plane.
Patrick stowed his gear and grabbed his noise-cancelling headphones as his gaze slid toward Brent.
“Damn, and I forgot my knitting needles,” the medic on their team, Mike “Patch” Hunter quipped, grinning at them from his seat.
“No problem,” Brent said, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. “Blade can loan you his pair.”
“Sonofbitch,” Christopher muttered.
“Easy fellas,” Matthew “Gator” Murphy said, easing down into his own uncomfortable seat on the C-17. “No need to get your panties in a bunch. I’m sure Cobra has enough extra sets of knitting needles for everyone.”
“Hoorah,” Christopher said as the others chuckled.
“Fucking pansies,” Brent muttered.
Patrick cleared his throat. “After we go wheels up, we’ve got specs to go over. There’s a chance the mission may get moved up since Delta’s going to be there ahead of us.”
“Roger that,” the men grunted in reply.
“Are we taking Humvees to the camp where the woman’s being held?” Evan asked.
“Negative. We’ll be flying in on Black Hawks. Each team to a helo.”
Married to a SEAL Page 6