Hot SEAL, Tijuana Nights

by Cat Johnson

  He shook his head. “I still don’t know what the rush was. I mean last we talked she didn’t mention any definite plans to move. Certainly not for this week.”

  “And when was the last time you talked?” Amanda crossed her arms and cocked up one brow.

  His sister’s aggressive stance put him immediately on the defense. “The last night of my leave. And you can just step back, sis. I know I haven’t talked to her for a week and that’s not my fault. You know what my job is like so you should have explained it to her and don’t go blaming me for her taking off.”

  “I tried. I told her you must be busy. But it wasn’t just last week.”

  “Then what was it?”

  She shook her head. “So many things. You didn’t even discuss what you were to each other.”

  “I was going to,” he defended. It was why he’d come over. Or one of the reasons.

  “When?”

  “Tonight.” That this was a recent decision just made today was something Amanda didn’t need to know.

  She drew in a breath. “Well, I guess you took too long.”

  Exasperated, he threw up his hands. “I was away.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But you know what? Your job is not really a good excuse.”

  He opened his mouth to call bull shit on that but she didn’t give him a chance to speak.

  Bowling right over him, Amanda continued, “Because of how dangerous and demanding your job is, you should never wait to say or do anything. Every time you leave here, leave me, leave her, you should stop and make sure you’ve left nothing unsaid. Because you’re right, we never know when or if you’re ever coming back.”

  He couldn’t argue. She was right.

  “I thought it was too soon.” It was his only defense.

  “You knew what you were thinking, but she didn’t. In her mind, you went dark for a whole week after you’d spent like two weeks together. She thinks you ghosted her. That she was just a fling.”

  “I never wanted her to be just a fling,” he whispered, as much to himself as to Amanda.

  That was the reason he’d avoided being with her for so long, until he realized the benefits of being with her outweighed the risks. And by benefits he wasn’t talking sex—though that was damn nice too. He liked all of her.

  He more than liked her.

  “I know that,” Amanda said. “But you need to tell her.”

  He nodded and turned for the door.

  “You’re going?” she called after him.

  “Yeah.” He stopped in his path, turned and strode back to give Amanda a goodbye hug. He hadn’t been unaffected by what she’d said to him. “Congrats again on the baby.”

  Outside, Zach got into the truck and didn’t wait. He pulled out is cell and dialed Gabby’s number.

  When she answered on the second ring, she sounded breathless.

  “Hi,” he said and then launched right into what she needed to know to feel better. “I was away and had no cell signal. That’s why I didn’t call. This is the first chance I had. I’m sorry.”

  She drew in a shaky breath loud enough he heard it clearly across the miles. “I’m glad you’re back safely.”

  “It was just a training.”

  She laughed but the sound was far from amused. More judgmental, if possible. “Amanda told me you always say it’s a training.”

  Amanda was an over-sharer, but it was good to hear Gabby laugh, even if he suspected it was sarcastically.

  “This time it’s true,” he said, admitting what he probably shouldn’t be to a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend. At least, not yet.

  “So, Hawaii, huh?”

  “Yeah.” After a short pause, she said, “The twin-sized bed in my old bedroom seems smaller than I remembered.”

  His heart broke for her when he heard the defeat in her voice.

  “When are you coming back?” he asked, hopeful. If he was part of the reason she left, he could make it right.

  “Why do you want to know?” The chill in her tone traveled just fine from Hawaii to his ear.

  “Gabby, I know I should have clarified things before I went back on duty.” He’d honestly thought that first day back would be a normal day and he’d be home by dinner.

  But Amanda was right. After being in the Navy since he’d turned eighteen, he knew to expect the unexpected.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t say so before, but I want to keep seeing you.” He realized that sounded too much like she’d be his booty call and nothing else.

  That wasn’t the case. Not at all.

  Zach rushed to add, “And I want to go out to dinner and go trash hunting and do whatever else you want. I like spending time with you.”

  She let out a short laugh that seemed a little off. “Now you tell me?”

  The shake in her voice told him she was most likely crying.

  Dare he hope they were happy tears? “So when are you coming back?” he asked again.

  “I’m not.”

  “Why not?” He knew the other thing that sent her running and said, “If you don’t feel comfortable staying with Amanda after the baby comes, you can stay with me.”

  Jesus, this was moving fast. From no girlfriend to a live-in one, in the span of one conversation. He wasn’t having heart palpitations at the idea, so that was good.

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Because . . .” he prompted.

  “Because I’m a failure. I can’t make a go of it as a designer. I can’t make a living wage in California and I’m not going to sponge off my friends.”

  Friends. Meaning both him and Amanda?

  He’d made the leap to them being friends to being in a relationship but apparently she hadn’t. And maybe she was right.

  Rushing into things too fast rather than building slowly might be the sure way to sink them when they’ve just begun.

  But still, Hawaii?

  Shit. That was far. Too far.

  He could get permission from command to fly there occasionally, but not often enough.

  He’d just have to fly her to see him, if she was willing. At this point, he wasn’t sure.

  “Gabby, if you want to be with me, we’ll make it work. We’ll make us work, even with an ocean between us.”

  Long distance would suck but he’d do it. For her.

  Besides, he was away a lot too. If he was in Djibouti, it didn’t matter if she was in California or Hawaii.

  He could do this. They could do this together . . . if she wanted to.

  She drew in a breath as he waited. Finally, she said, “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He jumped on the answer.

  “Yeah. But can you try to be a little more communicative when you’re able to?” She let out a sigh. “It’s been a really long week.”

  He heard the weariness in her voice and felt the guilt again. “I will. I promise.”

  Hell, he’d get a sat phone if he had to, just to keep in touch with her while it was somewhere without cell service.

  It was hard to believe. He hadn’t wanted a girlfriend. Then he had. And now she was in Hawaii. Shit timing all around. But they’d make it work.

  They had to, because now he’d had her in his life, he couldn’t imagine life without her.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “Have you talked to Gabby recently?” Amanda asked in a tone so like their mother Zach couldn’t help but tease her about it.

  “Yes, mother,” he joked. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we talk every night.”

  After a week, he and Gabby had settled into a routine. The moment he got home from base, he’d get on the computer and they’d get on video chat.

  The phone was ruined for him forever. Hearing her voice was nice, but seeing her smile was so much better.

  But dating his sister’s friend was proving to be a challenge since Amanda thought she had the right to be involved in everything now.

  Bringing his sister to McP’s for lunch was proving to be another challenge.
<
br />   If she continued to glare at him like she was now, no doubt because of his comparing her to their mother, she was going to ruin even his favorite bar for him.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re at least keeping in touch,” she said. “Now if you could convince her to move back here we could all be happy. I miss her.”

  He missed her too. He pressed his lips together to keep in the words. Talking about feelings with his sister was right up there with talking about sex with her.

  “You’re the accountant. Can’t you figure out a way for her to turn a profit on her business?”

  “Believe me. I’m trying.” Amanda ran a finger down the condensation of her glass of ice water with lemon.

  Beer in hand, Zach watched her and thought once again how grateful he was that it was the females who had to stop drinking during pregnancy, not the males of the species.

  Selfish, maybe, but true.

  “I’ve helped her as much as I could already. Or as much as she’d let me. I even signed her up for an affiliate account and added the code to her blog so she’d earn some money from her web traffic.”

  Most of that went right over Zach’s head but he got the gist. Amanda was trying to help but it still wasn’t enough.

  “Thanks for trying,” he said.

  “I’m not giving up yet. I recommend her to everyone who might possibly need a designer.” She let out a short laugh. “I even entered her into a design competition. I figured she’d forgive me for doing it behind her back if she wins.”

  “How did you enter her without her knowing?”

  “Easy. I just filled out the application pretending I was her. I had plenty of pictures of her projects between what was on her blog and what pictures I could take from my house and your house.”

  “My house?” His eyes widened.

  “Yup.”

  “You snuck in while I was away again?” he asked.

  “Yup.” She looked too happy with herself. “That shutter headboard looks amazing, by the way.”

  He scowled. “I’m going to need my spare key back.”

  “Nope.” she said sweetly. “And if she wins and moves back, you’ll be thanking me for sneaking in.”

  He hated when she was right. “I don’t want to admit it, but sometimes I do enjoy how sneaky you are. Not all the time, but sometimes.”

  “Thanks.” She beamed at what most people wouldn’t consider exactly a compliment.

  Maybe he could rent Gabby a storefront and sell some of the things she’d made for his house to prove to her she had a marketable skill. But he didn’t think he’d be able to part with anything. She’d created everything just for him. Every item held memories of her.

  Zach was still racking his brain, trying to figure out how to get Gabby back to the mainland, when Amanda gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” Zach took in the area around them, looking for the threat before he focused back on his sister. “Are you in pain? Is it the baby?”

  “Shh. No. It’s Clay and Tasha,” she hissed.

  “Clay and who?” he asked, obviously too loudly for her taste as she shushed him again, her eyes impossibly wide.

  She leaned forward. “Clay and Tasha from Hot House.”

  “I don’t know what hot house is.” He kept his voice down this time so she didn’t have an aneurism and hurt herself or his unborn niece or nephew.

  “It’s a reality show about home renovation.”

  “Oh, one of those.” Less interested now, he leaned back and grabbed his beer.

  “Would it impress you more if I told you Clay’s a retired SEAL.”

  “Not really.” Even so, Zach let his gaze wander over to the table off the side that Amanda kept staring at.

  “Don’t look!” she squeaked.

  He let out a laugh. “As if they haven’t noticed you looking?”

  “That’s different. I’m a fan. I love that show. Gabby and I used to watch it together—” Amanda’s sentence trailed off as did her attention. There was a faraway look in her narrowed eyes as she said, “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?” He hated to even ask what crazy idea she had, but he did anyway.

  He knew that look. She’d gotten it when she’d decided it would be legal if she drove with her learner’s permit if he, at seventeen but with a senior license, was in the car with her. Their parents had other ideas about that and, of course, he’d gotten the brunt of that punishment and couldn’t drive for a month.

  She’d also gotten that look when she and Gabby got the bright idea to make s’mores on the gas stove in the kitchen one college break while their parents were out. They’d almost set the place on fire. Lucky for them he’d been home that weekend and knew how to work a fire extinguisher.

  He could only hope that Amanda’s idea now was better than her past brainstorms.

  She planted her hands on the edge of the table and pushed her chair back. “I’m going to talk to them.”

  He groaned. “Please don’t.”

  No doubt she was going to drag him into this. Probably try to play the my brother’s a SEAL too card with this Clay dude so they’d listen to her.

  Before he could beg her some more she was across McP’s courtyard and standing next to the table where a man and woman sat trying to enjoy a private meal together.

  With a sigh, he pushed his own chair back, shoved his hands in his pockets and reluctantly moved to stand behind Amanda.

  He tipped his head to the strangers. “Please forgive my sister. She’s easily excited.”

  “That’s all right. We’re always happy to speak with fans.” The woman smiled sweetly, looking genuinely happy to talk to them.

  The dude, not so much. Zach felt his pain.

  “So I love the show and I love your story. How the two of you met working on the show and fell in love,” Amanda said. “It’s all so romantic.”

  Clay let out a snort while Tasha patted his hand as she smiled at Amanda. “Thank you. We think so.”

  “Anyway, the reason I’m here—my friend, his girlfriend too actually—is a decorator. And what she does is pretty amazing. Really unique stuff. Right, Zach?” Amanda looked back at him.

  “Well, she snuck in while I was deployed and redecorated my house with shit she found in the trash and I don’t hate it, so yeah, I’d say that’s amazing.”

  For the first time the dude cracked a smile.

  “You at Coronado?” he asked Zach.

  “Yeah. Team 3. You?” Zach asked.

  “Team 1. Retired now,” Clay answered.

  Zach tipped his head to acknowledge a fellow frogman.

  Meanwhile the women were still talking. He paid more attention and noticed Amanda handing Tasha a business card, before she wrapped her arms around the woman in a hug too big for a stranger.

  He caught the amused expression on Clay’s face and said, “Sorry about this.”

  Clay lifted a shoulder. “Happens all the time. I’m getting used to it.”

  His comment made Zach feel moderately better about the intrusion.

  Finally—thankfully—Amanda said, “Thank you both again, so much. Come on, Zach. Let’s let them enjoy their meal.”

  As if he’d been the one stopping them from doing that?

  His brows shot high but he said his good-byes and followed Amanda back to their table.

  “You want to tell me what that was about?” he asked.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll jinx it.”

  “Fine.” He reached for his beer and waited.

  He knew his sister. She couldn’t keep a secret for shit.

  Amanda didn’t disappoint. She huffed out a breath and leaned forward. “Okay. I can tell you this. If it works out, we’ll both get Gabby back.”

  “All right then.” He nodded and lifted his bottle in salute. “Here’s to your crazy ideas.”

  He’d probably lost his mind, believing this one could actually work, but he hoped it would with everything he had in him.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  �
��Gabrielle, clean up. It’s time for dinner.”

  She sighed and itched her nose with the back of her hand, careful not to get paint on her face.

  “Five more minutes,” she called back.

  It wasn’t lost on her she might as well have been a teenager again. Sleeping in her old room. Having dinner at five p.m. because that’s when her father liked to eat. Making her bed first thing every morning so her mother didn’t have to remind her to do it.

  Worse, she felt like a teenager again. Amanda had a grown up job, a house, a husband and a baby on the way. Zach too, with his own house and his kick ass job, was busy adulting, and defending the country from evil.

  And here she was. Jobless. Aimless.

  For the past month the only thing keeping her sane was her blog. She’d gone in full force, posting daily plus recycling old posts on social media.

  She’d taken over the back of the garage and had about five projects, all in various stages of completion, going at one time and she blogged about it all. She’d even gotten quite a nice following on IGTV.

  Too bad blogging didn’t pay better. If it did she’d be set. As it was, the couple of hundred dollars or so she got a month from the affiliate account Amanda had insisted she get wasn’t going to cut it.

  It was enough to pay her cell phone bill, her storage unit rental back in California and buy chalk paint for her projects, but it wouldn’t cover rent on her own place.

  She’d be stuck here in her parents’ house forever.

  “Gabby!” her mother shouted again.

  “I said I’m coming. I just have to finish this—”

  The door between the kitchen and the garage opening cut off what might have become a full-blown rant worthy of a teenage girl.

  “You have a phone call,” her mother said.

  “Oh.” She pocketed the guilt and the annoyance and struggled to stand. “Thanks.”

  Setting down the paintbrush on the edge of the can, she followed her mother back into the kitchen and spotted the cordless phone on the counter.

  She did her best to ignore the course catalog also on the counter. Her father was trying to talk her into going back to school to be something useful.