HOT SEAL Redemption

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Her stomach growled again, but he didn’t say anything about it. She was reluctant to accept help, so he wasn’t going to keep offering. They gathered the baby and went outside. She started for her car, but he stopped her.

  “Let’s go in mine. There’s more room.” He didn’t point out that her car looked like it could die at any moment. His was a big Dodge truck that he’d bought used two years ago, so he knew it would get them from point A to B and back again. Besides, it would take less time if they traveled together. He could take the test, drop it in the mail, and have her back here in an hour or so.

  “Okay. But you have to wrestle the straps on that carrier and get her buckled in.”

  “No problem.” They walked over to his truck and he popped the button to open the doors. It didn’t take him long to situate Ana’s carrier in the back seat and secure it. Ana goo-gooed at him, her little baby-powder scent reminding him of his childhood. It hadn’t been a bad childhood at all, but there were things he’d rather not think about. He folded the body of the stroller and tucked it away.

  Bailey stared at him with her jaw hanging open.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You did that so easily. Like you’ve been doing it your whole life. It took me forever to figure that damned thing out.”

  “Told you, oldest of six. This one’s more modern than what we had, but I’m familiar with the concept.”

  “Jesus, you’re like a wet dream for a woman who wants lots of babies.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, thanks. Not precisely the reason I was hoping for.” And not one that he found any comfort in. Hell to the no when it came to kids of his own. He closed the door gently on Ana before opening the door for Bailey. She was still staring at him.

  “And now you’re opening doors. Dude, how are you not married?”

  That one he could answer truthfully. “I could tell you I haven’t found the right person yet, but the truth is I’m not looking. Not interested.”

  Kids and marriage changed people, and not always for the better.

  “I suddenly feel sorry for all those supermaternal women out there looking for a husband.”

  She climbed into the truck and belted in while he stood there for a second.

  “You aren’t looking either?” In his experience, most of the women he knew were either looking or planning to look. And a military guy with benefits like his? Total catnip.

  “Hell no.” She sniffed. “I’ve got goals—and a husband isn’t one of them.”

  She wasn’t looking for a husband, or even a boyfriend, but something about the proximity of this man had her nerve endings jumping like popcorn exploding on a hot griddle. He was big and handsome, and he knew what to do with Ana. Bailey would swear she didn’t have a single maternal yearning in her whole body, but there was something very appealing about a hot man taking care of a little baby.

  Something that made her stomach twist with longing and desire pool between her thighs. Which was ridiculous, because what did that mean? That she wanted to fuck a man who could take care of babies? Because why? She didn’t want any babies. Ana was enough right now, and Ana wasn’t even hers.

  Her stomach twisted again, but not with longing this time. With fear and doubt and anger. Poor sweet little Anastasia. What was going to happen to her? How was she going to survive being taken care of by an aunt who knew next to nothing about raising a healthy, emotionally well-adjusted kid? And what if Alex Kamarov really was her father? Would he take Ana away?

  Probably. And why wouldn’t he? It was clear Bailey didn’t know a damned thing. What business did she have with a baby? About as much business as a pyromaniac had with a dynamite factory.

  Alex went around and got into the driver’s side. He started the truck and backed out of the drive. Bailey considered that she’d just gotten into a vehicle with a man far larger than she was and he was in control of where they went and what they did. Her heart throbbed and her stomach twisted, though her instincts told her she had nothing to worry about.

  Still, suspicion was automatic considering she’d grown up with two drug addicts always looking for their next fix. They’d do anything to get it, including sell their own children. Fortunately, it had never come to that, but her trust issues ran deep. Logic told her it didn’t apply to this situation though. If Alex was going to hurt her or Ana, he could have done it when they’d been in his house.

  They drove the short distance to a pharmacy. He parked the truck and turned to her. “You going in to get it or you want me to?”

  “I’ll let you pick it out.”

  He opened the door and went inside. A few minutes later he was back with a package. He handed her the receipt. “You’re paying,” he reminded her.

  “I know.” It was money she couldn’t really spare, but it was a small price to pay for the truth. Especially if it meant he would help her care for Ana.

  She opened the package and read the directions. He read them too. Then he swabbed his cheek, put the swab into the secure pouch designed for it, and sealed it.

  “Going to have to get hers,” he said, nodding at the back seat.

  Bailey’s heart skipped. “Okay.”

  “Do you want me to do it?”

  “No, I can get it.” She took the swab and got out of the vehicle. Then she opened the back door and looked at the sleeping baby. She absolutely didn’t want to wake Ana, but they had to get this done. Carefully, she slipped the swab into the baby’s mouth and rolled it against her cheek. Ana protested but didn’t start screaming. Bailey removed the swab, dropped it into the secure pouch, and then passed it to Alex.

  He put everything in the package, sealed it, and handed it to her. “Post office?”

  “Yes.”

  They drove the short distance to the post office and Bailey went inside this time, dropping off the envelope and getting a receipt. When she came back outside, she stopped and drew in a deep breath. The air was warm and a breeze blew softly. She felt a moment of happiness, like she’d accomplished something big, but then all the usual feelings of worry and fear were back in abundance.

  “One day at a time,” she muttered to herself as she stepped off the curb and walked over to the white truck where Alex Kamarov waited with a baby that might or might not be his. Because, yes, she had to acknowledge that it was entirely possible her sister was mistaken—or that she hadn’t been telling the truth.

  Truth was a fluid commodity in Kayla’s world. Always had been. It was her way of coping with the terrible situation in which they’d grown up. She’d come up with false identities—Harley being one of them—and she’d told lies. Bailey didn’t know why she would lie about something as big as who the father of her baby was, but it was possible. Anything was possible with Kayla.

  Bailey worried about her sister, but there was only so much she could do. Kayla was a grown woman, and if she wanted to take off to California for months at a time or disappear after dumping her baby, Bailey couldn’t stop her. She’d given up trying. Didn’t mean she wasn’t worried though. She kept messaging Kayla’s phone, but so far she’d gotten no response. Absolutely typical.

  She got back into the truck and belted herself in, sudden tears springing out of nowhere. Dammit.

  “You okay?”

  She didn’t look at him. “Yeah. Fine.”

  He reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze. Her breath stopped. Her nerve endings sizzled to life. A single touch was more electric than anything she’d felt before. But he might be the father of her niece, which made him off-limits. Off-limits.

  “It’ll be okay,” he said.

  She wasn’t sure it would.

  Chapter 4

  Alexei took her to breakfast. He’d told himself he was going to drive her back to his place and get rid of her now that they’d accomplished what she wanted, but instead he found himself headed for IHOP. Bailey protested when they turned into the parking lot.

  He shot her a look. “I’m hungry and I don’t feel like going back
to my place, dropping you, helping you get that carrier into your car, then coming back. It’ll be half an hour or more. So watch me eat or order something. I don’t care.”

  She stopped grumbling, probably because there was nothing she could say. They were here and he wasn’t leaving. He helped her get Ana—she still fumbled with the straps—and they went inside. The waitress who usually served him was cute and perky. He hadn’t asked her out, but she kept hinting she’d like him to. He’d thought about it a few times, but then he’d thought about what would happen when it didn’t work out—and it wouldn’t because he really only wanted to fuck her a few times. He’d have to find a new place to eat breakfast, but this one was close to home and he liked their pancakes. A man couldn’t fuck up his pancakes for a piece of pussy.

  Yet another reason he was pretty certain he hadn’t slept with Kayla. She’d worked at Buddy’s, and he wouldn’t have wanted to fuck up his favorite watering hole for a couple of orgasms.

  The waitress gaped as he strolled up with a baby carrier hooked over his arm and a woman trailing behind him with a diaper bag.

  “Hi, Marie,” he said with a smile. She snapped her jaw shut, but her face grew red.

  “Alex. I… Wow, I didn’t realize…”

  “This is my friend, Bailey,” he said, stepping aside to allow Bailey to come up beside him.

  Bailey smiled. It was a friendly smile, not the kind of smile that held a territorial claim. He appreciated that since he often got the other kind of smile when he spent time with a woman. “Hi.”

  Marie didn’t smile back. “Hi. Can I get you two some coffee?”

  “I’ll take one. Bailey?”

  “That would be nice, thanks.”

  Marie spun on her heel and disappeared. Alexei set the carrier on the bench seat and slid in beside the baby. Bailey took the seat opposite.

  “I don’t think she likes me.”

  Alexei laughed. “Nope, I don’t think so. But you helped me make a decision about her.”

  She tilted her head. “I did?”

  “Yep. I’d been thinking of asking her out. But if she can’t be nice to my friends, then I guess not.”

  “Seriously? I’m not your friend, Alex.”

  “Alexei,” he said automatically and then wondered why. Everyone called him Alex unless they called him Camel, but those were his teammates who did that. Alex was what he went by to everyone else except family. They called him Alexei.

  “Alexei,” she said. “That’s Russian, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. My parents immigrated when I was two.” And why was he getting chatty about this shit with her?

  “So you don’t have any memories of Russia.”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you bilingual?”

  “Trilingual, actually. I have an aptitude for languages, so the military trained me in Arabic as well. I’ve also been learning Persian.”

  “Wow. Arabic and Persian.” She sounded a little shocked. “That’s odd, isn’t it?”

  “You’d be surprised.” Not all the members of his team were linguists, but a couple of them spoke more than one language. It was handy when you were downrange in a foreign country to know the language. And since he deployed to the Middle East quite a bit, Arabic was a good one to know. Persian came in handy in parts of Iraq and Afghanistan. Really handy.

  Marie returned with the coffee. She managed to look as if she’d gone in the back and sucked on a lemon, though she pasted on a smile and tried to seem friendly. But he knew now. He had her number. She was one of those women who’d be superpossessive and jealous if he took her out. He didn’t do relationships, but he’d date someone for a few weeks if it suited them both. Have a few laughs, fuck a lot.

  Marie wouldn’t be worth the hassle, that’s for sure. Jealousy turned him off. Add in his lifestyle—gone without notice, often for weeks at a time with no way to communicate—and a woman like her would not survive the first deployment.

  “Do you know what you want yet?” Marie asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll take pancakes, a side of bacon, and two scrambled eggs.” He’d eaten cereal, but that had been over an hour ago now.

  “And you?” Marie said to Bailey, who was still staring at the menu.

  “Uh, two scrambled eggs, wheat toast, and hash browns. Crispy.”

  “Coming right up,” Marie said and then flounced away again.

  “I think she’s mad,” Bailey said.

  “I don’t care if she is. But back to the part where you said you weren’t my friend. Why not?”

  She blinked. And then she laughed. “Okay, sure. Why not? If you want to be friends, we’ll be friends.”

  “Good thing, because I don’t babysit for strangers.” Hell, he didn’t babysit at all these days. Apparently he was turning over a new leaf. Or an old leaf since he’d spent much of his childhood babysitting his siblings.

  Ana was kicking in her carrier, making sounds from time to time but otherwise content. He had to be crazy for not sending Bailey and Ana on their way the instant the cheek swab was done, but something had stopped him. Maybe it was Bailey’s stomach growling so insistently, or maybe it was the circles beneath her eyes. Whatever it was, she fascinated him. To a point.

  “You’re sure the results are going to be negative, aren’t you?” she asked, and for the first time he saw her doubts creeping to the fore.

  “I am.” Because on the slim chance he’d slept with Kayla Jones—he assumed it was Jones—he wouldn’t have gotten her pregnant. He knew that for a fact.

  Bailey’s gaze went to the baby with the shock of dark hair. “I don’t know what to do next if you aren’t her father. I’m not equipped to take care of an infant. My job isn’t flexible, and I have no other skills to fall back on. Well, none that pay anything.”

  “What are these other skills?”

  “Survival skills.”

  That wasn’t the answer he’d expected.

  “Not like Navy SEAL survival skills,” she continued. “More like street survival skills. My parents were deadbeat drug addicts. Opioids, not crack. We lived in a lot of sketchy locations. And then my mom OD’d and it was just me and Kayla and our father. A true waste of skin, that man. I walked out at sixteen and took Kayla with me. I kept her in school, but I had to quit so I could work to support us.” She twirled the spoon in her coffee and didn’t look at him. “We came here a little over a year ago, looking for bigger opportunities. I wasn’t ever going to earn the money to attend college while waitressing back in Tennessee.”

  “But you can here?”

  She seemed to hesitate. And then she thrust out her chin and told him, “I’m not waitressing. I’m dancing.”

  A knot formed in his gut. “Dancing?”

  Her eyes were stark and hard. Flinty. Daring him to judge her. “On a pole, Alexei. For money.”

  Marie returned just then with their plates. She set them on the table and slapped the ticket down. “Anything else?”

  “No. Thanks,” Alexei said, wanting her gone.

  She marched away and he turned his attention to Bailey again. She shoved a fork in the eggs and didn’t look at him. Whoa, that had been some revelation just now.

  “So you strip is what you’re telling me.”

  “Yep. You got a problem with that?” There was a challenge in her voice that he wasn’t about to rise to.

  “Only if you do.”

  “I don’t.” She shrugged and reached for her coffee. “It’s not what I want to do with my life, but the pay is pretty good and I’m saving as much as I can. I’ll walk away eventually, go to college, start a career.”

  Considering what he did for a living, he couldn’t judge somebody else for doing something a little dangerous. Which stripping was, when you factored in the atmosphere and the clientele.

  “Which club?”

  “The Pink Palace.”

  He’d been in the Pink Palace, but not lately. A few months ago. He didn’t remember seeing her there. But he also had a
very clear picture of what it was like inside that club, and he was suddenly feeling very angry and conflicted about the whole thing. Which made no fucking sense. She was nobody to him.

  “So tonight, while I’m watching Ana for you, you’ll be taking your clothes off for money.”

  Her head snapped up. “You think you get to judge me? Oh hell no. I do what I have to do to survive. That’s what it’s all about.” She picked up the saltshaker and doused her eggs. “And it’s not a guarantee you’ll be babysitting. My neighbor will probably do it, and then you don’t have to worry about Ana and me anymore.”

  “Unless that swab says I’m her father.” He couldn’t help but poke her.

  “You’re certain you aren’t, so I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes. He chewed his bacon and tried not to be angry. Didn’t work, and he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know this girl. Didn’t care about her. And yet he was getting as pissed as if they were in a relationship and having a disagreement.

  “You feel safe there?”

  Her gaze sparked. “Safe enough. The guys aren’t allowed to touch us, though it happens sometimes. But the bouncers enforce the rules, so it doesn’t last long.”

  He knew what those places were like. The drinking. The hoots and hollers as women bared their bodies on stage. The VIP room and the lap dances. Fucking titty bars were all the same.

  “Anybody ever wait for you outside?”

  “I’m sure they have, but one of the guys walks us out. Nobody has ever bothered me.” She dropped her fork and leaned across the table, eyes flashing now. “What I want to know is this—you can’t remember if you slept with my baby sister, but do you remember anything about her? Anything at all?”

  He sat back, folded his arms over his chest, and sighed. “She was pretty and she flirted with the guys. Nothing too serious. I remember thinking she had a boyfriend at one point. A guy wearing motorcycle leathers who seemed to hang around a lot when she was there. Didn’t say much. Hell, it was months ago, Bailey. I’m not being an asshole, but I didn’t spend much time with your sister or I’d remember more.”