"I guess not," she agreed. But it was hard to believe that the terror was all behind them.
"Do you honestly think some distant cousin of Tony's is going to go to the trouble of hunting you down? Trust me, once they find out that you've married another Navy SEAL, they'll keep their distance."
Gazing into his frank blue eyes, she felt the last claw of fear loosen its grip on her heart. "Even if someone tried, you would protect me," she pointed out.
"Damn right, I would," he assured her. "I'll protect you and I will never, ever leave you."
Fortunately, he didn't seem to get tired of telling her that, and she never got tired of hearing it. "Wait, did you just propose to me?" Though he'd often sworn that he would be with her forever, this was the first time he'd brought up the actual m-word. She raised her eyebrows at him and waited.
He sent her a slow grin. "I think we should wait six months before I officially propose—don't want to shock your friends and family."
Half-disappointed, half-relieved, she bit her lower lip and nodded her agreement.
"But while we're on the subject, what do you think of a Hawaiian wedding?" He turned and gestured at the beach. "We could get married right here."
"Here?" Following his gaze, she imagined herself in a simple white dress, barefoot, standing next to him with all of his SEAL team buddies in attendance. Recalling their mixed hurt and euphoria when they'd found out that he wasn't dead, she didn't find it hard to believe that they'd fly all the way to Hawaii to attend Bronco's wedding.
"That does sound amazing," she allowed, "but that's asking a bit much of your friends, isn't it? Hawaii is a long way from Virginia."
His forehead creased as he considered her reservations. "True. And some of them haven't forgiven me for keeping them in the dark."
"They understand though," she insisted. Another possible setting came to mind. "What about Montana? Your family is already there, and a flight to the Midwest has got to be cheaper than airfare to Hawaii."
His face lit up with a new idea. "Oh, I know where we're getting married."
She could tell by the exultant look in his eyes that he'd thought of the perfect place.
"Tweedy Mountain," he elaborated.
She nodded. "The place where they were going to spread your ashes—only they weren't yours."
"Trust me, John Doe likes it there," he assured her. "This place is perfect! The first time I climbed to the top, I was nine. I thought I'd climbed all the way to heaven. It was that stunning—paradise on top of the world. Picture a meadow full of wildflowers and snow-capped peaks in every direction."
Imagining it in her mind's eye, she found herself smiling. "I can't wait to see it."
He blinked and looked back down at her. "Wait! We're in freaking Honolulu," he recalled. "What are we doing dreaming of Montana?"
Shucking off his sandals, he issued a whoop of joy and lifted her off her feet. Locking her hips against his shoulder in a fireman's hold, he ignored her shriek of surprise and ran for the surf at full speed.
Dangling upside down, Rebecca clung to him for dear life. "Wait, we're going in now? I still have my clothes on! What about my sandals?"
"Kick them off," he advised.
"What about sharks?" she shrieked, as she shook off her sandals.
"Sharks are afraid of SEALs," he boasted, without any sign of slowing down. Holding her aloft, he charged straight into the crashing waves.
She screamed with laughter which ended on a gasp as he tipped her thigh-deep into the warm, churning water.
His grin was a picture of devilish delight. "Don't worry," he assured her, swinging her around so that the swells rushing toward them broke against his back instead of over her head. She already knew what his next words would be before he said them.
"I'll protect you," he promised, pulling her deeper and deeper into the ocean. "We're going under on the next one. Get ready," he said, and she peered with trepidation over his shoulder at the next massive swell rolling toward them.
Pinching her nose and catching her breath, Rebecca reflected that as long as she was by his side, she would be ready for anything.
The End
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followed by an excerpt from
FRIENDLY FIRE
The Echo Platoon Series
Book Three
Acknowledgements
Most people have heard the famous African saying that it takes a village to raise a child. I have the same opinion about the process of book writing. It takes a group effort to create a story that lives up to its fullest potential. I am so fortunate to have collected a special group of friends and devoted readers who make up my village. My assistant, Wendie Grogan, has seen this story from its infant stages through completion, offering feedback that has shaped its evolution. My editor and best friend Sydney Jane Baily, an author in her own right, also contributed to its maturation. Then there was my cadre of amazing Beta readers—Teresa Jensen, Suzanne Gochenouer, Susan Whitney, Susan Mitchell, Penny Doyle, Pam Orndorff, Kelli Jo Calvert, Kathy Kemp, Joyce McCoig, Graziella Burnie, Jacqueline Jacobs, Susan Fowler, Carey Sullivan, Donna Zenter, and Don Klein, who all contributed in making this story as clean and consistent as possible. My final proofreader Stephanie Pope put the icing on the cake.
I'd be remiss not to thank my area experts—Rachel Fontana who helped me with craft; my son Conrad and sister Loren for contributing to the plot; Carmen who assisted with legal aspects; my father who advised me on military law; and my surgeon, Dr. Harry Kraus (also an author!), for his input on medical treatment and procedure.
Even with this long list of names, I am sure I have overlooked someone else who influenced the growth of this story. To them and to all the members of my village, please accept my sincerest gratitude for your help in raising "my child."
Page forward for an excerpt from
FRIENDLY FIRE
The Echo Platoon Series
Book Three
Excerpt from
Friendly Fire
The Echo Platoon Series
Book Three
by
Marliss Melton
Bestselling, Award-winning Author
An air of festivity accompanied the motley crowd of cruise ship passengers as they shuffled in an unruly line up the gangplank and onto the Norwegian Pearl. Even in early April, the noonday sun had begun to infuse the spring air with the kind of humidity expected in the port city of New Orleans. Crew musicians played upbeat jazz on the receiving deck, welcoming the passengers as they stepped off the gangplank onto the floating city that would be their home for the next seven days.
At six feet, three inches, Navy SEAL First Class Jeremiah Winters took advantage of his height to observe what was happening up ahead as he took his first step onto the ship. Crew members had formed a line on either side of the passengers moving down the receiving deck. They hurled confetti, shook hands, and called out words of welcome over the happy music. The tolerant smile on Jeremiah's lean face faded slowly as an unexpected premonition skittered over him, causing his scalp to prickle.
He cut a sidelong glance at his teammate and fellow passenger, Justin Halliday, and wondered if the former NASCAR racer had picked up on the dark energy. Of course, Justin hadn't noticed. Grinning and grooving his way along the deck, the golden haired navigator's thoughts were entirely
optimistic as he anticipated their voyage to the Western Caribbean. He had intended to travel with his girlfriend of several years, but their recent break up had necessitated Jeremiah coming in her stead.
I'm imagining the dark energy, he assured himself. After all, he worked day in and day out with a small group of the most highly skilled warriors on the planet protecting innocent people just like this boatload of vacationers. He and Justin kept the populace safe; they didn't mingle with them. But it was hard to dismiss his premonition out of hand, having invested so much time and energy in learning to harness his sixth sense—especially when it whispered that something bad was going to happen.
He dragged his feet. "Wait," he said, putting a hand on Justin's musclebound arm as he hunted for the source of his disquiet.
"What?" Justin's blue-green gaze touched briefly on his profile, and then he, too, started looking around.
Ahead of them, passengers were being pulled aside for their boarding photos, which they could purchase later. The cameraman called out instructions. "You, little one, turn to the right. Mother, shift to the left. Now, everyone smile!" Holding his camera to his eye, he peered through it.
Click, click, click. In Jeremiah's mind, he saw a rifle scope instead of a camera, heard bullets explode from it and punch into the family members, spraying blood and gore over the canvas backdrop. He blinked and the vision disappeared.
"Damn it!"
Justin elbowed him. "Dude, what's wrong?"
Jeremiah looked over his shoulder at the line of passengers behind him. What could he possibly say? I've got a really bad feeling about this? His teammates had learned to take his intuitions seriously, but he had no desire to burst Justin's bubble right now, not when this was the happiest he'd seen him since his girlfriend left him. Nor did he wish to ruin their vacation before it even got started. "Nothing. I'm good."
The cameraman waved off the family and called up the next party to stand before the screen. The long auburn tresses of a thirty-something woman captured Jeremiah's attention as he faced forward again. Watching her move into position with her teenage daughter, along with another mother-daughter pair, the breath tangled in his throat as she turned her face in his direction, per the photographer's instructions.
Professor Albright? It couldn't be.
He blinked, doubting his eyes. The college professor who had so utterly captivated him, who had altered the course of his life forever and remained the ideal of womanly perfection in his psyche, had scarcely aged in the five years since he'd left George Mason University. She might be thinner, almost willowy now, her cheekbones more sculpted, but the lips that curved into a smile as she made bunny ears behind her unsuspecting daughter's head, were the same rosy lips that had brought Wordsworth and Coleridge to life for him. They'd shared something intense and illicit and so confusing to his impressionable heart that he had dropped out of school midsemester to become a knight errant, taking on such giants as drug cartels and ISIS extremists in her name.
What were the odds that he would drive all the way from Virginia to New Orleans to board a cruise ship and run into her here?
Click, click, click. The camera's digital sounds summoned the same horrific vision of bullets puncturing flesh, blood spraying, and bodies falling. Jesus, no! Not her.
As if drawn to his horrified stare, her gaze shifted past the photographer to make eye contact with Jeremiah. His heart suspended its beat as he waited for a sign of recognition in her soft blue eyes. Her brow knit as if she were struggling to place him, but then she turned away, throwing an arm around her daughter's shoulders. With a prick of hurt, he watched her move away, chatting amiably with her friend.
Picturing himself from her point of view, it wasn't any wonder that she hadn't recognized him. Five years ago, he'd been a lanky twenty-three-year old with thick-lensed glasses. The Navy hadn't just corrected his vision with laser surgery; they'd packed fifty pounds of raw muscle on his frame. Even if she had recognized him, there would be two-thousand-four-hundred passengers sailing to the Western Caribbean on this ship. They could travel for the next seven days and never cross paths again.
But that wasn't what he hoped would happen, was it?
Friendly Fire
by
Marliss Melton
~
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Friendly Fire
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Marliss Melton is the author of ten gripping romantic suspense novels, including a seven-book Navy SEALs series and continuing with The Taskforce Series. She relies on her experience as a military spouse and on her many contacts in the Spec Ops and Intelligence communities to pen heartfelt stories about America's elite warriors and fearless agency heroes.
Daughter of a U.S. foreign officer, Melton grew up in various countries overseas. She has taught English, Spanish, ESL, and Linguistics at the College of William and Mary, her alma mater. She lives near Virginia Beach with her husband, tween daughter, and four young adult children.
You can find Marliss on Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest. Visit www.MarlissMelton.com for more information.
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