On His Six : A Summit Seduction SEAL Novel (The Summit Seduction SEAL Duet Book 2)

by Rachel Robinson

  I read the two sentences over and over before deleting it completely from my phone. I should have known that this life with Lincoln would be too good to be true and not something an orphan with a murderous bloodline deserves. I’m getting exactly what I expected. I just hate myself for saying yes to Lincoln before I got this message. There’s no time machine to go back and change my answer, nor is there any way around this that won’t break his heart. If I’m going to have his back, I need to do everything in my power to keep this from him.

  After I compose myself, I head back to the bathroom, hang the towel on the rack, and open the shower door to join Lincoln. Pretending nothing is wrong is easy. It’s how I survived childhood. I’ve never had to pretend in front of someone who knows me as well as Lincoln, though. Instead of giving him a reason to question me, I throw myself into his arms and ask for more. There’s no thought other than he’s giving the person he loves what she wants.

  Lincoln picks me up and presses me against the shower wall, sinking into me, his forehead pressed against mine. With his eyes closed, he thrusts his hips, the water slapping between our bodies. The hot water cascades over us from two showerheads, and it washes away the tears sliding down my cheeks. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but it can’t be any other way.

  Chapter 9

  Lincoln

  I still can’t believe how easily Maeve agreed to move in with me. She walks through my front door carrying a tub marked kitchen. When I asked what she thought about staying a little at her house and a little at mine, she wouldn’t have it. She said, “Nope, Turner needs one home. We can keep my house for weekends or rent it out or something.” I peck the side of her head as she shifts past me. Wearing a smile and humming a song, there’s no arguing Maeve is happy. It’s just that, I don’t think it should be this easy for her to move out of her dream house and into the suburbs. Even I recognize my neighborhood for what it is. A great school district with cookie-cutter houses and neighbors who don’t mind their own business.

  Isaac shuffles in holding a long rectangular box. Her clothes. “Closet,” I tell him. To Maeve, I call, “Your clothes are here. I made space on the right-hand side.” Looking at the two wardrobe boxes sitting on the front porch, I realize the space I cleared isn’t going to be big enough for a fraction of her clothes. “Uh, yeah, I’ll clear out the office closet and put my stuff in there,” I say, deciding on the best course of action on the spot.

  “I’ll take the office closet,” she counters, coming to stand next to me. “No need to shift everything around, plus that one is bigger and has space for my shoes. Those are still in the moving truck.” Her smile is cheeky. “There are more shoes than there are clothes.” Going up on her tiptoes, she kisses me square on the mouth.

  “Get a room. Wait, don’t do that, help me unload this truck, Linc. I’m working for a case of beer here.” I didn’t trust anyone in my house or with her stuff, given the circumstances surrounding us of late, so I only wanted help from those closest to me. Aspen and Ramona are helping, too, but Maeve says they’re goalies, and will help unpack at the end instead of unload now.

  “I got the rest. Go take a look at the closet in the office and see what you need to move. Isaac and I will handle the rest.”

  Maeve adjusts her flannel shirt and nods once. She thanks Isaac for the hundredth time and heads down the hall to the office. My parents came to visit and took Turner out for the day. They were going ice skating and to the toy store. It wasn’t the best timing, but I’m grateful Turner has something to do today as he’d be bored to tears. To say he was excited about Maeve moving in and us getting married is the understatement of the year. I let Maeve tell him, and instead of merely telling him, she gave him a little leather bracelet with a gold plaque on the top. It has all of our initials engraved. Turner hasn’t taken it off since.

  “Her house is down to bare bones,” Isaac says, following me back out to the moving truck. She left most of her furniture and big stuff. “What are you guys going to do with the place?”

  I shrug. “It’s strange she’d give it up so easily. She doesn’t want to sell it; I know that much.”

  “You really don’t get it? Stavros bled out in her living room. You were shot in front of her eyes by a twin she didn’t know she had. You’re questioning her reasons for wanting to get out of that house?”

  I narrow my eyes as I lift a heavy box labeled shoes. “I thought about that, but she was fine directly after it happened. She said it didn’t bother her.”

  “She told a man recovering from being shot that she was fine, wow, that’s really surprising. Maeve cares about you, man. She’s not going to worry you with that when you were being such an enormous baby.”

  “Fuck off. I wasn’t being a baby. I have never been so bored in my entire life.” My shoulder twinges as I set the box down in the entrance of my house and slide it so it’s out of Isaac’s way. “Maybe you’re right,” I admit.

  “I’m right. This is Turner’s home. I don’t think for a woman like Maeve there was any question.”

  I furrow my brow. “What do you mean, a woman like Maeve?”

  He looks down and away from me as he drops his box and heads back out into the temperate winter day. “That came out wrong. She’s all in, in all ways. With you and your son. I can’t see her making concessions on anything.”

  I swallow hard. That stings. “I don’t want her to be the one making all the concessions. How do I fix that? This is all new territory for me.”

  “For starters, let her do whatever the hell she wants to the décor. Women are particular about that.” Even as he says it, I know she won’t want to change anything about my house. “Then you let her set the new parameters in living together. If she needs her space in the morning, you give it. Or, if she wants to watch awful shit on TV, you pretend to like it. Trust me on this.”

  I nod as he tells me tricks he uses with Tasha.

  “Clean up after yourself. Use the hamper, always put the toilet seat down, ask her how her day is and when she says fine, never, and I mean never, take that as an accurate answer. Ask in a different way to get more details or that fine will turn into a molten estrogen fueled volcano.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And man, you have to make sure she knows you love her and only her every single day. We’re gone a lot and that makes for trust issues even when the relationship is perfect. These are all things I’ve learned over the years. When she says she doesn’t know what she wants to eat, pick her favorite restaurant. Buy her gifts for no reason. Leave her notes,” he goes on, then pauses. “Maybe you don’t leave her notes on the steamy bathroom mirror though. Stick to pen and paper so you don’t scare the shit out of her.”

  Sighing, I realize the ways in which Maeve has been ruined by Rena. Sure, it’s her sister by blood, but she would have nothing to do with that bitch if it wasn’t for me. Will I ever live it down? I have to because in a twisted way, I have Maeve because of Rena.

  “Set reminders in your phone right now for any sort of anniversaries. Dating, engagement, you get the picture. Be thoughtful beyond the norm. We have to work that much harder because of our op tempo.”

  My stomach turns over when I think about leaving. It always sucks leaving Turner, but now it will be a new level of awful.

  “We do leave for training soon. I need to make light work of this to-do list of yours,” I admit, as I haul another box into the house. The Sharpie on the side says it’s purses, so I bring it directly to the office where I hear Maeve rustling around in the closet. “Purses have arrived.”

  She stumbles out of the walk-in and her eyes light when she sees me and the box I’m holding. “There it is. My favorite box! This closet is going to work out perfectly,” she exclaims. “I’ll shift some of the linens, towels, and things to the hallway closet if that’s okay?”

  “Whatever you want. Whatever,” I say, choking up. “This makes me happy, Maeve.” I set the box down and use the box opener to slice the tape.
“That you’re here with us. All the time.”

  Her gaze flits away from mine. “This is everything I’ve always wanted. Truly.”

  It sounds true, but the hesitation in her gaze tells a different story. This has to be a lot on her plate, and I’m not about to question her motives now. Not after what Isaac just explained about making her life and adjustment easy. “Tell me if you need anything. I’ll be working on the kitchen boxes and in the garage.” I pause. “Unless you’d rather unpack the kitchen when your friends arrive?”

  She taps her chin. “That’s a good point. Leave the kitchen stuff. When will Turner be back? I wanted to give him something.” Maeve is rustling around the purse box.

  I tell her I’m not sure, but will send him her way as soon as he gets in with my parents. No one is happier about the ring on Maeve’s finger than my mom. She even takes full credit for it. She told me if she never left to be with Dad in Florida, I wouldn’t have made the leap into the dating world. I didn’t tell her that I made the decision before she moved out. Maeve drags the purse box into the closet and I hear her busy herself by unloading the bags onto a top shelf. After I check with Isaac to make sure the truck is empty, I head to the garage and shift a few boxes out of the path and then decide to reorganize so Maeve’s garage boxes have a place. There’s one that isn’t taped up and isn’t labeled.

  Pulling a flap to peek inside, I immediately know what it is and emotion hits me square in the chest. There’s a folded flag, blue stars staring back at me. Stooping down, curiosity gets the better of me and I move the flag that covered Rexy’s coffin aside to see what else is in here—what Maeve deemed worthy of keeping. There’s a jewelry box with a necklace in it, an engagement ring looped through it. I close the lid and drop the box, feeling guilt for looking.

  How long did she wear the broken promise around her neck before putting it away? I close the lid and push the box away, unable to bear the weight of what I’ll find next. I’m aware of the abuse and neglect Maeve went through as a child, but she rarely speaks about her time with Rexy which I imagine isn’t all bad. Curiosity gets the better of me and I open the cardboard box again, just as Maeve opens the door and announces, “Found it!” She’s holding a ratty looking stuffed animal. Her eyes turn to slits when she sees me and the box. “What are you doing?” Maeve swallows hard, then steps forward into the garage. “Are you going through that?”

  I put up my hands, palms out. “It wasn’t taped and I was trying to find a spot for it in the garage. I wasn’t sure if there was stuff you’d need, so I glanced in.” I clear my throat. “It should probably go in the house, right?” I can’t meet her eyes.

  “It’s fine. I’m not mad. I haven’t gone through that box since I moved into my place. It’s probably time.”

  “Whatever you want,” I say, repeating myself again. “I’ll leave you to it, then. What’s with the stuffed animal?”

  She looks at it in her hands, like she forgot about it. “Oh, it’s the one thing I’ve had since I was a baby. I wanted to give it to Turner. He might call it junk, though. It kind of is junk.”

  Not if I have anything to do with it. “I’m sure he’ll love it. Have you seen that nasty dog he sleeps with?” Maeve smiles, but it falls when she looks at the box. I push it toward her.

  “I can carry it inside if you want.”

  She continues staring at it. “I should have left it at my house,” she exclaims, raising her voice. “I’ll bring it back there to store it.”

  “You can talk about him, Maeve. It’s not going to scare me off.”

  She meets my eyes and the sadness hits me heavily. “It’s more about scaring me off,” Maeve says. “I closed that chapter.”

  “Just because you close a chapter or even the whole book, doesn’t mean you’re never allowed to talk about it again. In fact, I’d hazard a guess, it’s better to talk about the story. Learn something from it.”

  “Do you want to go through it?” she asks, stepping forward to close the distance between us. “Together?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “What if I don’t know what’s good for me?” Maeve looks at the toy in her hand and shakes her head. “What if all I’ve ever done is push the good things away from me because I don’t think I deserve them? What if all of this is a lie?”

  Picking up the box, I carry it into the house, brushing Maeve as I go by. I take it into the bedroom and set it on the dresser. I know she’s following behind because she’s sobbing softly. “Is this really about the box, Maeve?”

  “Maybe,” she says, wiping under her nose. “Maybe not.”

  I close the door and turn to face her. “We could have gone back and forth, Maeve. If moving in with me was too much. I would have understood. Never would I want you to feel pressured.”

  She shakes her head, setting the toy down to open the box. She pulls out the flag, then the jewelry box and sets it on the dresser. “It’s not that it’s too much, Lincoln. It’s that I won’t get to keep this. With you.” She meets my eyes, but turns back to the box when she sees my confusion.

  “It was a freak accident. I can’t say one-hundred percent that won’t happen to me but I can say with a lot of certainty that everything is going to be okay. I’ll be safe. That’s what you’re scared of?”

  She’s holding Polaroid photos and releasing them to scatter on the floor. “Yes,” she says without looking at me. There’re letters next, and framed photos she glances at quickly before putting them to the side. “It all went to shit when I moved in with him,” she whispers. Holding out a photo. Rexy is cradling her in his arms and they’re surrounded by cardboard boxes. “It ruined everything.”

  I can’t look at the photo for long because seeing Maeve like that, with another man, sets off the raging fucking jealousy. “Moving in with him had nothing to do with the accident. You know that.”

  “Maybe it didn’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that the stream of events did end up going in that order. It’s hard for me. Just because it does feel like we’re following the same course and everything is happening the same way.”

  “What would you change? If you could make this exactly how you want it, so it could feel different for you?”

  She looks at me, and I have to look away. The pain in her gaze is unbearable. “That’s it, isn’t it, though? It’s supposed to be the same because this is the natural progression for people who love each other. This is how it should be. There’s no way around it, and I just have to deal with what it makes me feel and pray I don’t overwhelm you with my issues.”

  “Your issues could never overwhelm me, Maeve. We’ve talked about the only thing I take offense to, and that’s lying. Rexy wasn’t a lie and your love for him was real. It’s honestly relieving that you feel like this because it means I hold a candle to that motherfucker.” I look up to the ceiling. “Sorry about that, man.” I exhale and take hold of her hands. “Normal. This is all completely normal. I think you might have forgotten what that feels like after we’ve been wrapped up with Rena and the… mess she caused.”

  A Polaroid stares up at me. It’s of Maeve and Rexy kissing. Maeve’s eyes are closed, but Rexy’s are open and he’s looking at the camera with a cheeky wink. I stoop down and stack up the photos without looking at any others that closely. I hand them to her and she puts them in the box. There’s a knock on the bedroom door. I call out, “Come in.”

  Maeve wipes her eyes and puts the remaining items back in the box. “Hi Daddy!” Turner runs in and hugs me. My mom appears a second later with two shopping bags in her hands. I ruffle his hair and kiss him on the cheek.

  “You guys get that truck unloaded?” Mom asks. I hear Dad shuffling around in the kitchen with grocery bags. “Maeve, I saw this sweater and thought of you.” Mom hands Maeve a shopping bag.

  I can tell Maeve is shocked by my mom’s gesture. She takes the bag with a shaky arm. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh stop now. I’ve never had a dau
ghter to shop for, and don’t have any granddaughters yet, so give this old lady something to live for. I love to shop!”

  Over my shoulder, I say, “She does. Let the woman shop.”

  Maeve smiles as she pulls out the thick sweater. Right away I can tell she likes it. Her eyes light up as she holds it in front of her face.

  “Do you like it, Maevey? I chose the color.”

  “I love it so much,” she replies, hugging Turner against her side. She shrugs it over her head and looks in the mirror by the bed. “I would have picked this for myself if I was there,” she adds. Mom beams, Turner is radiating happiness, and I know how overwhelming we must be for her.

  “You always find time to hit the shops, Mom. What did Dad do?”

  She waves me off and goes to adjust the shoulders of the sweater on Maeve. “Dad loves it, don’t let him fool you. He got a new hat and socks.”

  “Wow, sounds like a real fun time,” I deadpan sarcastically. “Nothing for me?” It’s a joke, but Mom looks terrified, like she forgot my birthday or something. “Shit, I was joking.”

  “Don’t curse, son. I wanted to find something special for Maeve and we ran out of time. Had to get some ice cream on the way home, too.”

  Maeve is still looking at the sweater. At her name, she looks up and walks over to hug my mom. “This was so thoughtful. Thank you so much.” I give her diamonds and she doesn’t react this strongly.

  “Oh, honey, you’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. I’m going to go get some dinner started I’m sure you guys worked up an appetite today.”

  Dad grunts from the other room to let everyone know he has worked up an appetite and wants to eat. Anytime food is concerned, Dad has an opinion. Mom steals away, and Turner walks over to Maeve.

  “Tonight is when it starts, right?” he asks, looking up at both of us, hopeful eyes big and eager.