Hot SEAL, Alaskan Nights (SEALs in Paradise)

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Hot SEAL, Alaskan Nights (SEALs in Paradise) Page 8

by Cynthia D'Alba


  Bailey chuckled. “Let’s see. Your parents are upstairs. We are having milk and cookies as a snack and getting ready to watch a sci-fi movie. I feel like I’m fourteen again.”

  He grinned. “If you’re fourteen, then I’m eleven.” He pitched his voice higher. “And my voice hasn’t changed yet.”

  She chuckled.

  “Cookies are warm, so I’m thinking you were right about her running out of things to do.” He sat the glasses and plate on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

  She took a cookie, bit, and then moaned. “Yum.”

  He put a whole cookie into his mouth and chewed. “Mom’s a good cook. We never ate meals out much. Too many mouths to feed, so she had to learn how to cook.”

  He sat beside her on the sofa and put his arm on the back of the cushion, letting his hand rest on her shoulder. “Ready?”

  “Groot.”

  With a chuckle, he hit the play on the remote. The movie hadn’t made it through the opening credits when he leaned over and kissed her. She opened her mouth for his tongue, and he dove in, loving the taste of Bailey and chocolate. She caressed his face as she returned his kiss, stroking his tongue with hers. A gentle pressure, and she slid across the back of the sofa and let her full body stretch out across the three cushions. He followed her every move until they were lying side by side. The kissing continued with moans, the kisses more erotic and wet as the make-out session progressed.

  “You’re missing the movie,” he said against her lips after half of the movie had run unwatched.

  “I’ve seen it,” she said and pulled him back for another kiss.

  Fine with him. They could always screen this movie another time. Besides, all the blood from his head was in his groin, filling his cock to rock-hard and leaving his brain blood-starved. He pushed his rigid dick into the vee between her legs. She groaned and pushed back. He almost lost his mind with lust. Damn, he wanted this woman. Not on his parents’ sofa, of course. He missed having his own place, never more than he did at this moment.

  “Go away with me,” he said.

  “What?” She looked up at him with glazed eyes. “Do what?”

  “Next weekend. Let’s go away for the weekend.”

  “Where?”

  “It’ll be a surprise.”

  She pushed his shoulders, and he sat up, as did she. “No.”

  The negative response punched his gut. “No?”

  “No surprises. I need to know where. I have to tell my grandmother. I have to be available by cell. I won’t go if I don’t know where we’re going. Plus, I need to be able to get to Homer quickly in case of an emergency. I’m on call next week.” She sighed and hid her face on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. If you want to withdraw the invite, I understand.”

  Any other guy would have put her reluctance down to her being unsure about their relationship. He didn’t. He knew her past. He understood.

  “I most certainly do not want to withdraw the invite. We’ll be in the area. You enjoyed seeing that eagle last night, so I thought maybe you’d like a cabin up where we can just enjoy the view and bird watch.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Sounds lovely.”

  “Let me check with a friend. I’ll text you all the information as soon as I finalize. Okay?”

  She tilted her head as though studying him. “Why are you so nice?”

  He smiled and kissed her. “Because I like you.”

  “I like you, too.”

  She kissed him for a long time. He was thinking about taking her back down on the sofa when she pulled away.

  “I need to go.”

  His answer was a groan. “Are you sure?”

  She chuckled. “It’s after one a.m. I’m sure.”

  “Okay,” he said on a long, exhaled breath. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  The response wasn’t what he expected.

  “No. Sorry. I’ve got plans for tomorrow night.”

  Jealousy poked his gut. Did she have a date? Hadn’t she said she wasn’t dating anyone? Should he ask? Nope. If she wanted to see another guy, then fine. He could step back. He didn’t want to step back, but heck, this was a causal relationship, right? She had the right to see other guys, even if they’d sort of said they’d date while he was in town. Of course, it was possible she’d had this date set up long before they’d met.

  She stood, and he followed. “Good night, Levi. Thank you for two delicious dinners.” She patted her stomach. “Now to work off all those delicious calories.”

  After a couple of intense kisses, he walked her out to her truck and watched as she drove away.

  He didn’t sleep worth a damn that night. Actually, he hadn’t slept great since he’d gotten home. The dreams from the last mission kept intruding. He ran and ran, bullets flying around him. Sometimes the copter left before he got there, his team yelling out for him to hurry. Sometimes, a sharp pain would stab his back and he’d startle awake.

  And then there were the dreams about a mysterious woman. Funny that she always had auburn hair with streaks of fire. Sometimes she was running alongside him in North Africa. In those dreams, he would try to protect her, shield her with his body. Sometimes, she was the one shot, and he would cry out in pain.

  He awoke on Saturday morning about five and knew his night was over. Exhausted, he dragged himself to the bathroom, hoping a stinging shower of cold water would wipe the cobwebs from his brain.

  It didn’t.

  Second trick, head to the kitchen for the blackest, strongest coffee he could find. For once, he was the first one up. He brewed what he liked to call “SEAL Coffee,” a beverage so thick it didn’t need a cup. Just cut the stream with a knife when there was enough poured.

  He sat at the kitchen table, a hot mug cradled in both hands. The tin of chocolate chip cookies on the table was a siren calling his name. He felt like death this morning. Might as well give in to the call.

  His teeth sank into the chewy goodness, which he swallowed with a gulp of black richness.

  “Don’t eat cookies for breakfast,” his mother said.

  He jerked his head toward the door. “Morning, Mom.”

  “Bailey gone?”

  He plastered a shocked look on his face and clutched at an imaginary set of pearls. “Mother! Of course, she’s gone. I’m not that kind of guy, and she isn’t that kind of gal.”

  His mother laughed. “Yeah, right. How about some eggs and bacon, instead of chocolate and sugar?”

  “Sure, but shouldn’t we wait for Dad?”

  “I’m here,” his dad said. “Fire up the grill, Maw.” He swatted his wife’s ass, then kissed her neck.

  “Get a room, you two,” Levi joked.

  “Wasn’t a problem until this week,” his dad said as he poured a cup of coffee. He took a drink, and his eyes opened wide. “Wow. Did you leave any grounds in the can for the next pot, or did you just dump it all in?”

  “You sleep late, and you get what you get,” Levi said.

  “Late?” His dad laughed. “It’s five-thirty. Speaking of, why are you up so early while you’re on vacation?”

  Levi shrugged. “Woke up. I thought I might go for a run this morning. Now that I think about it, Mom, I want to run before breakfast. Save me some bacon.”

  After changing into shorts, a T-shirt and joggers, he headed out to the street and took off at a slow pace. He hadn’t run since being shot. His left thigh protested, as did his ass, but too bad, so sad. He would not rejoin his team and not be one-hundred percent. He’d limit his run this morning to five miles.

  The first couple of miles were tough. Not on his heart or his breathing, but on his wounds. They complained every step. By the time he hit mile three, his butt gave up the battle, but his thigh screamed. Unfortunately for his exit wound, he would not be controlled by pain. Gritting his teeth, he set a rhythm, one step followed by another.

  Sweat damped his T-shirt even though the temperature was a mild sixty-two. Compared to the humidity in Coronado, this
morning was damn near perfect. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the tail of his shirt.

  “Looking good, sailor boy,” a female voice said.

  He looked up at the truck that’d stopped. He grinned and walked over to the lowered passenger window.

  “Morning.”

  “Good morning,” Bailey said. “Did your doctor or medical professional release you for this kind of strenuous activity?”

  “Maybe,” he drawled out.

  “Maybe, my ass,” she said. “How are the stitches doing?”

  “Burning a little. Most of the complaints are coming from my leg, but…” He shrugged. “I can’t get lazy on vacation.”

  She scoffed. “You and lazy are not two words I’d put together.”

  “What are you doing up so early?”

  “Headed down to the spit. Thought I’d run it this morning before all the tourists crowd the street.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “That’s eight miles round trip.”

  “I know. A little farther than I usually push myself. I might not make it all the way to the end before I turn back.” She patted her belly. “Someone has been stuffing herself with good food the last couple of days.”

  “Mind if I come along?”

  “Depends. How far have you run so far?”

  “A mile or so,” he lied. “Still got a lot of gas in the tank.”

  She studied his sweaty shirt and looked like she was going to question him. Instead, she leaned across the seat and popped the old-fashioned lock on the door. “Come on.”

  He hopped in and she drove them to the start of the spit and parked.

  After she turned off the truck’s engine, she angled her body toward him. “Here’s the deal. If you feel like you need to stop, do it. I can pick you up on the way back.”

  He laughed. “If you need to stop, I’ll pick you up on my way back.”

  She gave him a fierce frown. “I’m not kidding, Levi. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

  He scoffed. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

  With her usual eye roll in response, she climbed from the truck. Levi jogged in place to keep his muscles warm while she went through a series of warm up exercises. After five minutes or so, she waved and headed down the spit road. A couple of long strides, and he was alongside her. He let her set the pace, not completely sure of her abilities. Not that she would lie, but he’d known people to exaggerate when in competition with a SEAL, not that this was a competition.

  The pace she set was a comfortable twelve to thirteen miles per hour, something he could easily keep up with. Was that her usual speed or was she slowing down for him? He didn’t say anything because, if it was her usual pace, he didn’t want to push her beyond her limits. That wouldn’t be fair. After all, he was a SEAL and a daily run of ten to twenty miles was his norm. His goal was to get back to that before returning to California.

  “You doing okay?” she asked at about the one-mile mark.

  “Hooyah.”

  She tossed him a sideways glance. “I’m warmed up now. Ready to pick up the pace?”

  He grinned. “I’m with you, darlin’. Lead on.”

  Her feet kicked out, and she left him behind. He answered with a belly laugh and punched in his afterburners. She high-fived him when he got alongside her again.

  At four miles, she signaled she was turning around. He nodded and turned with her. She kept up the pace for half the way back, then slow jogged for a mile, and then walked the last mile.

  “Hurting?” she asked in a breathy voice as they walked toward the truck. Her hand dug in at her waist as she walked.

  “Not bad,” he lied. “You said something about taking out these stitches?”

  “Want me to do it now? We can run by the office and be done in a jiffy.”

  “Only if I can buy your breakfast afterwards.”

  She waved her hand down his body. “I’m not sure where you’ve hidden your wallet in that outfit.”

  He grinned. “SEALs can be sneaky.”

  “Hmm. So I’ve heard,” she said. “Let’s take care of those sutures.”

  They drove to the clinic, parked in the rear and entered through the “staff only” door. Bailey flipped off the alarm and turned on the lights in exam room six.

  “You know the routine,” she said, pointing to the room.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter 9

  “I will pay you back,” Levi insisted.

  “No, you won’t. You’ve bought dinner twice. The least I can do is buy your breakfast.”

  She turned into the dirt lot beside Two Sisters Bakery and parked.

  “How long were you here before you discovered this place?” Levi asked.

  She laughed. “About a day. You cannot be in Homer and not go to Two Sisters.”

  They exited her truck and climbed the steps to the entrance. The aroma of yeast, flour and cinnamon filled her senses, and she drew in a deep breath.

  “There were days when the team would be in some shithole, my teeth gritty with dirt, my only food an MRE, and I’d have paid a million dollars for a sticky bun from this place.”

  She linked her arm through his. “Poor baby. Let me make up for it. I’ll buy you two buns today.”

  He laughed and pulled her tighter to him. “Make it three, and next time we run, I’ll let you outrun me.”

  She scoffed. “I took it easy for you today.”

  He shook his head with a laugh and stepped up to the counter.

  After placing their order, they found a couple of chairs at a corner table on the glassed-in porch.

  Her cell phone buzzed in her purse.

  “Damn,” she muttered and pulled out the phone. Another text from Curtis demanding she call or else. She went to drop the phone back into her bag when Levi stopped her.

  “Hey. Can I borrow that?”

  “Okay.”

  “Need to call home. Mom was expecting me back, and she’ll be driving around looking in ditches if I don’t let her know I’m fine.” He looked at the phone, and then back to her. “Sounds like she’s nosy, but that’s not it. She’s still a little freaked out by my job, so when I’m home, I try to soothe her nerves.”

  “I get it,” she said. “I really do. What you do is dangerous.”

  He shrugged. “Not always. A lot of it is training and staying prepared. Not every day is a mission where I might die. However…” He leaned toward her. “If you want to talk about dying in California, we can talk about the traffic.” He gave her a dramatic shiver. “Talk about taking your life in your own hands.”

  She lifted her coffee and chuckled as he called home.

  “Hi, Mom. No, I’m fine. Ran into Bailey, and we decided to grab some breakfast. Yes. Yes. Of course, she will. I’ll ask but I don’t think so.” He covered the receiver. “She’s inviting you to dinner tonight.”

  She frowned and shrugged one shoulder“Sorry. I have plans.”

  “Right.” He uncovered the phone. “No can do. She has plans. Do what? Yes. Yes. Okay, Mom. See you later.” He clicked off the phone with a sigh. “She said to check your schedule and let her know when you can, and the rest of my family can adjust their schedules for dinner.”

  “Your mom is a force of nature,” she replied with a laugh. “I’ll check and let you know.”

  On her way out to meet the ladies for her first ladies’ night out—Melissa had come through with her promise—Bailey found an envelope with her name sitting on the entry hall table.

  “You got mail,” her grandmother called from the kitchen.

  “So I see. Thanks. I’ll take it with me.”

  “What time will you be home?”

  “No clue. Some of these women have families, so I don’t know if they call it an early night or not. I guess I’ll be home when I get here.”

  Her grandmother walked from the kitchen wiping her hands on a towel. “Have fun, dear.”

  “I will, I’m sure.” She frowned. “Why do you look so concern
ed? I never drink much.”

  “Oh, it’s not that. It’s just…have you talked to your parents?”

  Bailey paused and thought. “Not since about Tuesday. Why? Are they okay? Is something wrong?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but you know what a worry wart your dad is. He heard through the grapevine that Curtis has left town.”

  “Great. I can actually go home and not worry about running into him. He mentioned a cousin who lived in Arkansas. He’s probably over there. I wouldn’t worry.” She kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “I’ll be home by midnight at the latest. Call me if you need me.”

  “Have fun, dear.”

  By the time she parked at Alibi’s, the envelope was burning a hole in her curiosity. She’d applied to a couple of practices in and around the Dallas area. She knew her references were currently being checked. This was likely another reference request. If she didn’t open it, she’d be distracted all evening—not the best way to make a good impression on a group of ladies you were meeting for the first time.

  She slit the envelope flap with a finger and pulled out a handwritten note. Her stomach dropped lower than her feet.

  Bailey,

  You won’t take my texts or answer my calls, and I am desperate to talk to you, hold you again.

  I am so sorry you made me get mad and leave that message. I just love you so much, and not having you with me is driving me crazy.

  I am so sorry about hitting you. It was wrong. I see that now. I would give anything to erase that night.

  Pastor Black said I was the most devoted person who’d ever completed his anger management class. He said he could tell how much I loved you, and that a man’s love for his wife is the most important thing in a marriage. I understand now that, as the man, I am head of the household, and it’s my job to provide for you and our children. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe and protected in my fold. You won’t ever have to work again. We can share your trust fund with our family and the Lord. Pastor Black has many suggestions on how you can serve the church.

  Come home. Marry me. It’s what God wants.

  All my love,

  Curtis

  Bile rose in her throat. Nausea tanged in the back of her mouth. She gagged and threw open her door in case she vomited. She didn’t, but it was close. The man was crazy, as was his pastor. She could just bet that soul-sucking pastor had plans for her trust fund, too.

 

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