Stone gets everything he wants. Sure, he may have hidden reasons for requesting the current staffing situation, but I’m fucking pissed. First, he stole the chief position we both vied for, then he makes odd choices about where I’m at if he’s on target. Before all of that, he stole my most valued possession. A person isn’t something you can own, but she’s owned my heart since her southern voice pierced my ears and my heart at the tender age of twelve.
Morganna was a transfer student from a few counties over. She decided that her debut at a new school, my school, would be in the form of a talent competition. All of the popular girls completed in it and I guess if you just went ahead and threw yourself in with the sharks from day one, you’d get noticed. Morganna was a girl to notice, too. The bitchy popular girls weren’t the only ones who took notice, either. Every swinging dick in the school noticed that girl. Her black hair fell in waves and the curves that marked her as a woman were already starting to show. The lips on that girl. The lips. The first impure thoughts any boy in that school had were centered around her full, perfectly kissable mouth. I’m sure that’s quite a feat for a twelve year old to accomplish, though I can’t speak for all boys.
After she lost the talent competition, I decided to introduce myself in my usual unlikable fashion. She meandered, shoulders back, head up—mind you—out of the cafeteria. I followed her out into the heat, watching the way her hips bounced her backpack back and forth.
I tapped her shoulder. “You really shouldn’t quit your day job, little girl.” Mean, but I kept the smile on my face. Her shoulders slouched forward, but the fierce glint in her eyes forced my feet a step back. This kitten had claws. Sharp ones.
She perched her small hands on her hips. “You shouldn’t speak at all, but who is a little girl to tell you something so truthful?” she sneered. I laughed. The scowl on her face only deepened.
“I like your style. What’s your name? I assume it’s not voice-of-an-angel or four-time-Grammy-winner?” She spun on her heel and ignored me completely. The snub wasn’t something I was accustomed to. Girls liked jerks. Or so I thought.
“I’m Steve,” I called out after her. “I was just joking, you know. You want to be friends?” She stopped walking so I caught up to her quickly. Standing in front of her, I threw my arms out in an “I’m sorry” gesture. “Truce. I’m a good friend. I promise.”
She sighed. “You have a real odd way of making friends, Steven. As for my name, I don’t think you’ve earned the privilege of knowing it. But because you’re the first person to talk to me, and I suppose that means you have balls, I’ll tell you the first letter is M. Goodbye.”
I waved, but she already disappeared in the crowd. “I’ll see you at lunch, M!” Her cat eyes glinted over her shoulder as she looked back in my direction.
She did eat lunch with me that day and pretty much every day after that, and she continued to tell me her name in single letters, one at a time over the course of a week or so. The day we were up to M-O-R-G-A was a good day, as I called her Morga-insert-funny-adjective-here all day. Morga-liscious was the winner, I think. Over the years, I respected our friendship so much that I never took it any further. She dated nice, respectable boys that I wanted to kill, and I man-whored my way around the school while she warned me about virulent diseases and stage five clingers. Granted, I feared her daddy’s shotgun, but I feared losing her friendship even more. She never pushed it either. Maybe she had different reasons, or perhaps they were the same as mine. I never got a chance to find out.
After college, Morganna came out to visit me in San Diego before she started work as an attorney. She stayed at my place, but that changed the second she met Stone. He swooped right in and stole my heart from right underneath me. I could have told him how I really felt. I should have at least told her how I felt, but I didn’t, thinking she would finally break the silence and say something about our pseudo-fucked-up relationship.
Keeping quiet while I watched them date, fall in love, and then marry turned me cold and bitter toward anything that resembled romance or relationships. I vowed to never give a woman enough power to destroy me again. She was mine in a way so deep that it was beyond title, and I was completely wrong. Now that she’s married to Stone our friendship isn’t the same. Because what married woman wants to have sleepovers at her male friend’s house? What husband allows that? What really boils my blood is that I’ve watched the girl grow into a woman and I know everything that makes her tick. Everything that is Morganna, I’ve witnessed firsthand. Her career changed her, and falling in love with Stone changed her even more. The pisser is that I have no one to blame except myself, but I still can’t tamp down the rage the old memories bring.
I shake a computer mouse to wake up the computer and enter multiple security codes to unlock the system. Signing in to my work e-mail, I pull up the last message Morganna wrote to me. It was right after we deployed. She always hates that we leave at the same time, Stone and I. Her beloved and her best friend. All the words in her letter are generic, wishing me safe and healthy. I skip down to the signature line. She signs it: Love, M. A joke only I’ll understand.
Several guys barge into the office and take up residence behind the remaining computers just as I hear the chopper blades thwacking the air outside. One glance at my watch and I realize it’s almost time. I close out of her e-mail and begin to focus on the task at hand. Case closed. My pining doesn’t affect my work. Nothing affects my work. A loud ass whoop echoes in excitement, as someone else lets a string of curse words fly.
It’s game time.
Unfortunately this particular game changes everything. Stone dies saving his best friend’s life.
CHAPTER TEN
Morganna
I FIGURED MY plus one could be Cody. Lainey is always asking me to set her up with one of the guys. She’s my neighbor and frankly, she reminds me of myself. She’s ensconced herself in her career for so long that she forgot to check the husband box. When I called her to ask if Cody was a good choice for the dinner party, she informed me she took it upon herself to invite Cody and Steven on her own. Phillipe already has plans and there is no way I can call Alex after the disastrous dinner date when I told him I couldn’t be more than friends. He was kind, understanding…one nudge away from condescending. It was humiliating in the worst possible way. Nice guys have that way about them. I shake my head. “Probably why I’ve always steered clear,” I mutter to myself as I click up Lainey’s driveway, my heels making the comforting sound that signals my arrival.
I notice Steven’s truck is already parked and I can’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach. It’s not because he’s here, no. It’s because Lainey thinks he’s unattached and available for dating. Heck, she probably wouldn’t have minded being girlfriend number four. Little does she know he’s as unattached as he’s ever been, and I’m beating around the bush trying to decide how best to approach a relationship with a man who has been my friend for longer than anyone else. He helped me analyze my very first kiss when I couldn’t decide if it was good enough. It wasn’t. He’s the same boy who risked life and limb to sneak into my window for a week straight to sleep next to me in my bed. Not for his own gratification, but because my Memaw died and I hated being alone at night. My brain has never shut down at night the way it’s supposed to. So Steven would lie next to me and tell me funny stories, and I’d end up falling asleep with wet eyes and a smile on my face.
The small smile the memory forces is still on my face when Lainey throws open her door. “Fashionably late as always,” she says, taking the small wrapped gift out of my hand. White elephant ornament exchange is always fun at her house. I spent more time than was prudent selecting my ornament.
“Fashionable as always, you mean,” Steven interrupts, stalking up to me from the side. He helps me remove my coat while Lainey watches his every move through narrowed eyes.
“Thank you, Steven,” I reply, gaze still on our host.
Lainey looks between Steven and
me for a few more seconds. “Of course, that’s exactly what I meant. Appetizers are up. Let’s not give them time to get cold,” she says, whisking her aproned waist back into the kitchen with a touch more flair than my company necessitated. Steven’s not watching her. I don’t even need to look at him to know it, either.
When I focus my attention on him, I’m taken right back to my childhood bedroom. His bright smile blazing, the same longish brown hair flapping over one eye. Time added a chiseled jawline, more muscles than he knows what to do with, and the mind of psychotic, debonair killer. Time also added my own desire. His dress shirt is starched to perfection, and his slacks and dress shoes force an image of a professional, except I know what he really is.
He notices my perusal. “See anything you like?” He glances back toward the kitchen and dining room where the party is obviously in full swing. “Because I see everything I like and I want to put my lips on it.”
“I’m an it, now? You know better than that. How far will that get you with me?” I tsk him, folding my arms across my chest. He chuckles, grabs my hand, and ever so lightly brushes a kiss across my knuckles. My gaze is glued to his mouth. Now I want his lips on everything. One gentlemanly gesture has me shivering. “Lainey wants you,” I say. It’s attempt to thwart my imagination.
“Funny. I want you. We’re just a bunch of greedy people around here, aren’t we?”
Seconds pass as we have a silent stare off. He shrugs his huge shoulders. “Don’t worry. I want to talk to your daddy before we do anything that may be construed as indecent. I don’t think you’ll ever be too old to warrant a shotgun in my face.”
I laugh, a true, gritty laugh, because he’s not making jokes, he’s being serious. I’ve always found it ironic how that works with a humorous person. “You’re one person he won’t point a gun at. Don’t worry. We should get on the road early tomorrow. I’m all packed and ready for the ranch. Did you remember to pack your chaps?” Pressing my lips together, I try to stifle a laugh. He was born in the south, but struggles with most southern things.
“Assless. I’ll stay over tonight so we can leave early. I’ll model them for you when we leave here.” I shake my head and he follows me into the dining room. All of our friends are milling around the table, picking at appetizers, drinking cocktails. I limit myself to one glass of wine because the last thing I need is drunk Morganna coming out to play. Lainey flirts shamelessly with Cody throughout dinner. Oddly, he seems receptive to her advances, even talking about something other than computers or the weird cryptic nuances of technology. It makes me happy, because she hasn’t glanced Steven’s way once. She knew the second I walked through the door that his radar was locked on me. I like that. The meal she cooked was extravagant in the way that someone always tries to impress guests, but I could have given her a few tips had she asked.
All I really care about in this moment is that Steven is sitting next to me and his leg is pressed up against mine—his heat seeping into me. Then the subject comes up. I should be comfortable with it after all this time.
“When do you deploy?” Lainey asks the table. There are a few SEALs and their wives at the other end opposite mine. There’s also civilians who hang on to every word about any detail they can gather about this odd, secret world.
Cody answers first. “Shortly after the holidays. It will be a fun one.” I cough, laying a hand on my chest. Steven’s hand finds my leg. My own hand automatically goes on top of his. I clutch onto the small lifeline.
“Ah, come on. It won’t be that eventful,” Steven supplies.
Not only is he trying to downplay his leaving, he’s monitoring what information is being dispersed to the table. SEALs aren’t called silent professionals for nothing. The sell-outs who write tell-all books and give interviews about sordid, secret mission details after they retire from the Navy don’t count. Those types of men are shunned and frowned upon in our community. I wish them ill will and a lifetime supply of crabs. I look down to my lap, composing myself as I remember “the knock at the door.” My life changed forever in the span of seconds.
One. Rush from kitchen to open the door, hanging up a phone call on my way.
Two. See dark Navy uniforms through the panel of glass beside my door.
Three. Open door.
Four. Take in somber faces.
Four seconds was all it took to rob me of everything. The chaplain didn’t need to say a word. In fact, I’m not sure if he ever did because I fell to my knees in shock as the rest of the world melted away. I remember looking up and seeing his mouth moving, and his arms reaching down to help me up. My legs refused to move, my mouth couldn’t speak, my arms fell limp, and I was paralyzed by loss. When I regained some semblance of sanity, my only words were, “The guys. The rest of the guys. Steven. Maverick?” With the assurance that Steven was okay and that Mav would recover, I buried myself in grief for my husband. Years later, I’m just now crawling out of that hole, but the memories continue to affect me as if it was yesterday. The thoughts swirl wildly in my mind and I forget where I’m at.
A large hand folds around my shoulder. “Help Lainey get the ornaments ready for the exchange, yeah?” Steven asks, breaking the awkward silence. All eyes are on me—ostensibly to see if I’ll uphold my usual all business demeanor or have a complete breakdown. I let Steven help me up and out of my chair, making sure my head is held high. Possibly on the verge of hyperventilating, I figure it’s my only option to keep my dignity.
“That was stupid of me to bring up,” Lainey whispers when we’re alone. I’m offended, wholly and truly.
“Of course it’s not. They are deploying. It’s a perfectly acceptable topic to discuss. Don’t you dare do that. ” Narrowing my eyes, I make sure she knows I’m serious. Lainey nods, throws a tiny, half smile, and starts placing the wrapped ornaments on the large coffee table in her formal living space. I plaster a fake smile and play along for the rest of the evening. Everyone has a great time and they pretend to forget my mini panic attack at dinner. Drinks splash freely and Christmas music blares through expensive speakers. Taking my glittering cowgirl boot ornament, I say my goodbyes, ignoring the pity in my friends’ eyes and start for home.
Steven’s truck growls up the drive behind me, his headlights casting my shadow on the expansive flower garden. Parking in his usual spot, he hops out and catches up. Normally I’d care about my reputation—his truck at my house all night—but tonight I can’t find a reason to care.
I hear his footsteps fall behind me. “Despite what everyone thinks, I’ll never be the person I was before. It’s unfair for me to even try to pretend that you’re getting a fair shot,” I admit. “He’s there for good, Steven. Stone is there for good.” He stays silent yet close, as we walk into my foyer and into my office. Ignoring him to the best of my ability, mostly out of shame, I turn on my computer and kick off my red-bottomed heels.
“I’m not asking for him not to be,” he rasps. I let my gaze flick up to meet his as he looms over my desk, his large hands splayed on the dark, polished wood. “I’m demanding what’s left.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. His demand is so similar to something Stone would say that it takes me a second to compose myself. “There’s not much left,” I reply, but it comes out more like a squeak.
“I’ll decide what’s enough,” Steven says, leaning over to place his warm lips on top of mine. The current that passes between him and me is immediate, causing my entire body and mind to react to his mere touch. My hands find his face as I lean toward him to deepen the kiss. I forget about the horrible dinner conversation; my mind clears of everything except for Steven. He groans, my eyes flutter closed, and I want so badly to have all of him. Maybe I can give him all of me and I’ll eventually be whole again. It’s a thought I’ve never even entertained before now.
“Okay,” I whisper, as he pulls his wet mouth away from my own.
“I’m going to get my stuff out of the truck because if this desk wasn’t in the way, I’d
have your hot body naked and filled before you speak another word.” He licks his mouth, his eyes settling on my hips, my chest, and then my neck. Steven stalks out of my office without another word. I let out a huge breath in a rush.
My cheeks feel hot and the fire is already lit, and there’s only one way to extinguish it.
Steve
If you love something, don’t set it free. Hold on to it tightly. Never let it go. If you lose your grasp, it will come back eventually. But it will be different. Ruined.
Morganna is the strongest woman I’ve ever known. To see her so fucked up over a mere conversation does things to my heart that I don’t want to claim. The wall she puts up for everyone else is gone when it’s just me and her. I have her trust. It doesn’t make it any easier to see her deal with it all this time later. Losing Stone was hard for both of us. Hell, I’m starting to think the rest of the world winced when that man died. The tiny, fucked up slice of my brain that whispers “It’s your turn now” after he passed away gets stronger with each passing second. I’m going to make her mine no matter how ragged the holes in her heart are. I can heal her. I know I can. She just needs to trust me enough to give me that chance.
As I approach her house from my truck, I notice a side window ajar. Not all the way open, not even halfway…just a sliver. Squinting my eyes in the dark, I scan the area surrounding the window and her house. A garden light that’s been forked in the yard is smashed—possibly stepped on. I pick it up and creep to the window stealthily. I know from installing her new security cameras that this is a window that’s completely hidden. Someone could sneak in and out through this window and the cameras wouldn’t detect movement. Mother fucker. I should have known better. Morganna didn’t disarm her security system when we came back from the party, meaning she never set it before she left. Anger mixes with adrenaline and I could kill someone right now. Literally. The pit inside that gives me what others fail to have, rears. My breathing evens, my heart rate steadies, and I’m ready to work.
The Crazy Good SEAL Series: Books 1-3 Page 43