Her Honorable Hero (Black Dawn Book 7)

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Her Honorable Hero (Black Dawn Book 7) Page 3

by Caitlyn O'Leary


  Before Miranda could respond, Mike tugged Susan into his arms.

  Thank Fuck.

  Griff turned Miranda into his arms, his hand running up and down her back.

  “We have cake!” Leslie’s voice called out as the lights went out.

  3

  Hope’s story had stirred Griff’s memories of meeting Miranda. As he pulled her close in bed and drifted off to sleep, his memories became his dreams that night. He even felt the gentle rocking of the train three years ago.

  Griff Porter ran across the station, barely making it on board. He grinned as soon as he stepped onto the train. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if he had arrived a couple of hours late to the Navy base at Coronado, but he sure as hell didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see Miranda Slade. This was their time together, and he’d made up his mind that this morning he’d be asking her out. She might not realize it, but she had been targeted by a SEAL, and that meant she belonged to him.

  He sauntered down the car and quickly spotted her raven hair. He’d been pretty sure she’d be on this car since they’d been sitting together on this one for the last nine Mondays. As he came upon her, he saw that there was a newspaper lying on the seat beside her. When she saw him walking toward her, she picked it up and motioned toward the empty seat.

  Score!

  She was on the phone. That was normal, too. The woman did a lot of work when she was on the train. That was fine, he could wait.

  Griff made himself as comfortable as he could in the seat. Even here in the business class section the seats didn’t easily accommodate his shoulders. He seemed to end up overflowing into her space a little bit. Miranda didn’t seem to mind as she flashed him a bright smile, then settled back into her phone call. Griff shamelessly listened in.

  Miranda could have easily commanded forces in the Navy. Right now someone was getting their ass handed to them in D.C.

  “Doug, this is the third time you have missed something for Energys. We don’t have time to set up an entire new process to do a quality control check behind you.”

  He watched in fascination as she took quick notes on a sheaf of papers.

  “I’m confused. I tracked the time you opened the e-mail. It was actually on Monday, not on Wednesday like you just said. So you actually had five days to go over the contracts. Are you telling me that wasn’t enough time?”

  She was well and truly pissed. Apparently good ole Doug didn’t think she would tag her e-mail. Doug didn’t sound like the sharpest tool in the shed.

  “Is that really the tack you want to take, Doug?” She asked in a soft voice. “Your final answer is that you didn’t get enough time to review the documents, is that it?”

  The bastard was probably too stupid to realize he should be pissing his pants.

  Griff pretended to scratch his face so he could cover his grin, but Miranda’s eyes shifted and caught him. Damn, she didn’t miss a trick.

  “Thank you for your time Doug,” she said politely. Too damn politely in Griff’s opinion. Again, the bastard should be scared, with a capital ‘S’.

  She hung up the phone, shaking her head in disgust as she rapidly dialed another number. It went to voicemail.

  “Bob, this is Miranda. Doug’s off the Energys project. As of now. I’m not telling you how to handle one of your employees, but I’m going to send you all the information you’ll need to write him up if you’re so inclined. You’ll have it by the end of the day. In the meantime, I’m going to need someone else to support Energys. Someone who can actually perform the job.”

  Griff watched with pleasure and amazement as she powered off her phone.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re disconnecting?”

  “Doug’s going to bitch to Bob. Bob’s then going to call me and beg me to take Doug back. If I take the call, I might actually say that Bob needs to grow a pair.” Her blue eyes glittered, and Griff couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “I can’t believe the little weasel lied to me. And then he was stupid about it, thinking I wouldn’t check up on him. I’m more insulted that he thought I was too stupid to catch him, than I am that he lied.” Her pen tapped rapidly against the paper. “Anyway, I won’t handle it well when Bob doesn’t do his job, so it’s best that I don’t talk to the man until tomorrow.”

  “But why turn off the phone? Can’t you just let his call go to voicemail when you see his number come up?”

  Miranda patted out an imaginary wrinkle in her pencil skirt and looked back up at him. “I’m kind of OCD,” she sighed. “If the phone rings, I answer it. I’m just wired that way.”

  “How many hours a week do you work?”

  “Does working during the commute count? How about during dinner and through my lunch?”

  “Yep, all of those hours count. So how many?” He watched as she once again brushed at her skirt, this time picking at some lint that wasn’t there.

  It was time to make a move.

  He picked up her delicate hand in his and held it. “Tell me,” he coaxed with the smile that he’d seen his dad use effectively on his mom for twenty-eight years.

  “It’s because of the new client. So about fourteen or sixteen hours a day. But that’s when I’m here in San Diego.”

  “And when you’re home in Anaheim on the weekends?” he prodded.

  “I cut it back,” her eyes shifted down to their clasped hands. A sure sign she was lying.

  “Miranda, one-hundred-hour workweeks is too much. You have to know that. Especially if you’ve been doing it for over two months.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Griff knew he was in trouble. He’d been accused of being too controlling in the past. Women didn’t like it. Then there was the fact that Miranda was as Type A as they came. He was doomed.

  “Yeah, I know. You’re right.”

  “That’s it? You’re going to agree with me?”

  She gave him a puzzled look, then laughed. “You thought I was going to have a problem with you hitting me with some home truths?”

  Damn, he liked her. Liked her, liked her. And he’d already been pretty hooked if he’d been pursuing her for nine weeks on a train, but that sentence cinched things.

  “I gotta admit Ms. Slade, I thought you might fight me on it,” he grinned slowly.

  She leaned in with a grin of her own. “Want to know a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “I like people who’ll call me on my shit. I know you’re right. I’ve been doing this pace for almost five months and I’m close to burnout. That’s another reason for turning off the phone. But the product is going to hit the market at the end of next month, and I know I’m capable of keeping it together until then, as long as I power down when I know I’m ready to unleash the four horsemen of the apocalypse on someone’s ass.”

  Griff laughed. “So after next month?”

  “Then I’m taking my six weeks accrued time-off in one big lump. I’m going to find a beach, a lake, or just someplace near water, and veg out.” She leaned her head back against the seat and peeked over at him beneath her lashes. “So, see? I have a plan. What do you think of that?”

  It sucked. Unless it was a beach here in San Diego. Near him.

  “Sounds well-thought-out, exactly what I would expect from you. Are there any special people you want to spend those six weeks with?”

  Smooth, Porter, really smooth.

  “It’ll just be me and Captain Morgan for one week. Smooth Rum on a tropical beach.”

  Griff brushed his thumb along the side of her hand, where their hands were still clasped. He heard her involuntary intake of breath.

  Good. Maybe he was getting to her, because God knew she was living under his skin.

  Wait? What was she saying?

  “…friends.”

  “Huh?” he asked.

  “I said I’d have to scrounge up one of my girlfriends, but all of them fall under the workaholic category, too.” Miranda wrinkled her nose. “Seriously,
this shit needs to start slowing down.” She shoved at her leather computer case with her attractive maroon heel. Griff loved her choice of footwear. Not too high, but sexy nonetheless.

  “What about you, Mr. Navy SEAL, how much time do you take off?”

  “What about your friend Wendy? I know she’s a big time director, but won’t she take time off to go with you to the beach? If not her, what about Penny?”

  Miranda stared at him in amazement.

  “What, like you’re the only one who pays attention?” he chuckled. “Oh I forgot, Penny moved back to Ohio. Still, can’t she meet you?”

  “Her new job is keeping her hopping,” Miranda sighed. “Plus, she just got a puppy. There’s no way she’d leave him so soon.”

  “And Wendy?” Griff probed.

  “She’s on location. Nope, I’m probably hitting the beach alone. Anyway, I just asked you a question that you’re trying to dodge. How much time do you take off?”

  “I don’t work nearly as much as you do. When we’re not deployed, it’s a regular forty-hour workweek, but you know that. I’m up in Anaheim every weekend to help Mom out with Dad.”

  The train lurched and her case slid, she bent and moved it back. Griff wanted to grab her hand back in his, but figured that’d look too needy.

  Miranda tilted her head sideways. “How is your dad doing?”

  Griff thought about how he’d left things that morning. His dad had been downstairs in the hospital bed. The home healthcare worker would be arriving later in the day. “He’s doing better. He and I got in a couple of games of Scrabble. There’s no way he would have been up for that last week.”

  “And your mom?”

  “She’s amazing, as always.” Griff thought about his petite mother who was the glue that kept his large family together.

  “When does your aunt arrive from Hawaii?”

  “I sure must talk a lot to you.” Griff shifted in his seat so he could look directly at Miranda. He was feeling kind of sheepish.

  “Actually, you don’t at all. I swear I have to play twenty questions every time I want to get the slightest bit of information from you. Like now.”

  “I’d prefer to talk about your vacation. You’re more interesting than I am.”

  “Don’t make me kick you.” Instead of following through on her threat, she pushed at him with her shoulder.

  Score! More body contact. He’d take that.

  “Your aunt?” she prompted.

  “Are you sure you were never in the military?”

  “Nope, but I do occasionally run projects in conjunction with the Department of Defense, so you learn a few things. Now spill it.”

  The train gave another lurch, nothing that really would have caused him to lose his equilibrium, but Griff shifted a little anyway so that their sides were brushing up against one another. Miranda relaxed against him.

  One more lurch and he’d have Triple Word Score.

  “My auntie is going to arrive on Friday. She’s Mom’s sister. Auntie Lulu would have come sooner, but her youngest just graduated high school. She wanted to be there for the ceremony. Now she intends to stay out here for a month and help Mom out.”

  “Oh.” Miranda shifted back more into her own seat, breaking contact. “I guess I won’t be seeing you anymore, then.” She sounded disappointed.

  Griff felt a ridiculously huge smile bleed over his face. “When is your assignment going to end? The end of next month?” he asked.

  “Most likely. Yeah, six weeks.” She bit her lip. She had great lips.

  “Then Miranda, I’m going to be taking the train for six more weeks.”

  “You are?”

  “Yep. Now that I know how much longer your assignment is, that’s how much longer I intend to keep seeing my parents. Or, you could put me out of my misery and agree to go out to dinner with me.”

  She gave a slow smile. His pulse sped up. Then she frowned and answered slowly. “Griff, I’d really like that. I would, but I don’t usually leave the office until eight, or sometimes even nine at night.”

  “How safe is the parking lot? How late is it when you get to the station in Anaheim?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

  This time he answered slowly. “My mom and my sisters give me a hard time about this, too. But I’m the oldest, it’s hard-wired into my DNA.”

  “I’m a big girl. I know how to take care of myself. Hell, I’m thirty-one. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight,” Griff answered readily.

  “Respect your elders. We know what we’re doing. I know to park under the parking lot lights and have people walk me to my car.”

  He didn’t like the ‘elders’ shot at all. “Does that always work out for you, Miranda?”

  He saw she was opening her mouth for another retort and he wanted to kick his own ass. Really? This is how he was going about asking for a date?

  Griff threw his hands up in the air. “Do you have a handkerchief?” he asked.

  “What?”

  Thank God he stopped her before she tore a strip off him. “A handkerchief. I want to wave it in surrender. Seriously, I swear to God I’m usually smoother than this, but thinking of you unprotected woke up my lizard brain.”

  He continued to keep his arms in the air as she started to laugh.

  “Oh for God’s sake, lower your hands,” she chuckled. “I forgive you and your lizard.”

  “Do you forgive us enough to go out to dinner? A late dinner?” he qualified.

  “You wouldn’t mind waiting?” He liked that she sounded as hopeful as he felt.

  “Hell, Miranda, I’ve been taking this train for two months even though my truck has been out of the shop for the last seven weeks. I’d say I wouldn’t mind waiting,” he laughed.

  “You’ve been really worried about your dad, haven’t you? That’s what’s been really holding you back, hasn’t it?”

  Nothing got past this woman. Smart turned him on. A lot.

  She was right, it had been because of his dad. For some reason he hadn’t felt right about pursuing a social life with his dad so sick from the chemotherapy. But now it was a whole new ballgame, his dad was on the mend.

  “Yeah, I’ve been worried about him, but this last week he’s turned a corner.”

  “I’m so happy for you and your family.”

  “What kind of food do you like?”

  “It really doesn’t matter.” Her blue eyes gleamed. “Food’s food. It’s the company that matters.”

  It just got better and better.

  “Hi, you two.” Griff looked up to see Betty, the ticket taker.

  “How are you doing this morning, Beautiful?” Griff asked.

  The middle-aged woman gave him a broad smile. She reminded him of one of his mom’s friends. She was a sweetheart.

  “I see you’re still a big ‘ole flirt, Mr. Porter.”

  “I know better than to flirt with a happily-married woman, Betty. How are the grandkids?” Betty looked around the car and saw that it was pretty empty, so she took a moment to answer.

  “Colin is starring in the school play and Angela caught a fly ball in her first game.”

  “That’s fantastic,” he and Miranda said simultaneously. They looked at one another, and chuckled, but it was Betty who laughed the loudest.

  “You two are the best entertainment I have every Monday,” she said. Then she left to scan the next person’s ticket.

  “So, where were we?” Griff asked.

  “I was about to question you,” Miranda answered. She started to shrug out of her blazer. Griff helped her, admiring the pink silk blouse that she was wearing. There was something about a woman in a business suit that got to him. Then there was the fact that she was wearing pearls. God, half the time he was ready to swallow his tongue. He forced his brain back into gear.

  “Fire away.”

  “What made you decide to become a SEAL? After I met you, I looked it up. That BUD/S t
raining is intense. What makes a person decide to put themselves through something like that?”

  Griff hesitated. He didn’t normally open up about that. But then again, no woman had ever thought to ask him such a direct question.

  “My great-grandfather and two of his brothers were on the beach at Normandy. Papa John died when I was seventeen. I grew up hearing about World War Two. When I was sixteen, he and his brother Alfred were reminiscing and they talked to me about that day. It was horrific. But they were proud. Their brother, Harold, died on Omaha Beach.”

  Miranda reached out and put her hand on his. He turned his hand so their palms met and their fingers tangled. She was small and delicate compared to him. Light to his dark.

  “All three of them enlisted right after Pearl Harbor.” Griff hesitated. “They were something else. I wanted to be just like them.”

  “I imagine you did.” Miranda smiled up at him. The loudspeaker called for the next stop as the train slowed down.

  Griff jerked in his sleep, waking both himself and Miranda.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Griff gave her a sleepy smile that made her sigh with pleasure. His warmth enveloped her and she felt protected. “Hope’s story made me dream about that morning on the train.”

  “Did it?” Miranda smiled and stroked Griff’s face.

  “Yeah. Right up to the stop at San Juan Capistrano Station.”

  The San Juan Capistrano Mission.

  Oh God. Mom.

  Miranda did her best to hide her emotions. “Yeah, I remember that part,” she kept her voice light-hearted. “Nothing’s changed, I still like flirting with you.”

  “Me too.” Griff yawned and drifted back off to sleep. His low breathing soothed her as she nestled closer to his chest. His arm tightened a little around her waist. Even in sleep, he seemed to know when she needed comforting. Miranda waited long moments, listening for the sound of his breath to deepen before she shifted the comforter.

  “Babe?” he whispered softly.

  A thousand out of a thousand times, and she’d never gotten past him.

  “Just need a glass of water.” She pressed her palm against his heart. She knew he smiled. He always did when she touched him that way.

 

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