The Peaceful Warrior: Navy SEAL Romance

by Daniel Banner

  Be safe, she told herself as she went inside. Protect that heart of yours, girl.

  ________________________

  Cannon climbed into his SUV and gunned it, driving as fast as was safe on this residential road.

  What a date that had been, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Daisy helped him stay on the surface of life where things were good, and life was happy. Yeah, he had opened up about some of the deeper stuff, but even that hadn’t been dark like sometimes in the past.

  Daisy Close was exactly what he needed in his life. Right then and there he made the decision to take any steps necessary to win her over.

  Yet here he was, rushing off to bow to Sutton and help a brother, leaving her in the dust. But what was he supposed to do? Zane needed him, and this was just a date, the first of many dates with her.

  Even as he said that, he knew it was wrong. That had been more than just a date, and Daisy was more than just a woman. She was the woman he wanted in his life forever. He couldn’t wait to see her again, to put his arms around her, feel the softness of her and draw on her strength and goodness. To hold her hand, to see that gorgeous dimple when she smiled. To have her look at him again like she was his rock.

  He could tell she wasn’t happy when he’d ended their date. But it had been mostly over already, hadn’t it?

  Now he was just making excuses. What would Zane have said back in the Philippines if Cannon had tried pulling out these weak excuses? He would have told him, jokingly, that if he wanted to make excuses, he should have chosen the Air Force.

  Throughout BUD/S and SEAL training, Cannon had never once opened his mouth to make an excuse, so what was up now? He was conflicted, that was it. Did his loyalties lie with his brothers, who he’d trained with, fought with, bled for, and always been there for? Or did he owe a woman he just barely met who wasn’t having a major emergency his loyalty?

  The answer was obvious, right?

  Right?

  Never had he let a brother down. Never had he let the team down. Not SEAL Team 7, and not anyone in the Warrior Project.

  So why did his gut keeping telling him he was wrong?

  Zane had a true emergency or else he wouldn’t have used the Coms band, so why was Cannon still worrying about something he could do nothing about right now?

  Maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe he could do something. He ordered his car to send a text to Daisy: Sorry for running off. I’ll give you details later. Hope you give me another chance.

  She sent back a winking emoji and: If you’re lucky.

  That had to be good enough for now.

  Distractions had never caused problems for Cannon, but he seriously wondered if he’d be able to focus on the job tonight.

  Chapter

  The day after their date, Daisy got a text from Cannon. It was good to know he was safe after whatever emergency he’d had to deal with, but after sleeping on it, she felt more than ever that she needed a guy who was going to be devoted to her. She’d come so close to throwing her life away as Sterling’s trophy wife, she couldn’t let that happen again.

  Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about how exciting it was to go out with Cannon. Even before the fight, it was a thrill to spend one-on-one time with him. Then when danger came, he hadn’t even batted an eye.

  She still couldn’t figure out if he was James Bond, or Harry Dresden, or maybe even Dr. Strange with the way he seemed to be under completely different time constraints than the guys he had fought. Someday they’d make a movie about this peaceful man with a dangerous side once he got pushed too far.

  Just thinking about him made her heart race. She wanted him so bad, but she wanted the version of him who made her feel important all of the time. Or at least most of the time. Every encounter they’d had so far, he’d been distracted or called away. She was so torn.

  Not that she was ready to give up on Cannon, but she would proceed with caution.

  So she turned down his request for a date, even though she really wanted to go. Maybe not being at his beck and call would help him figure out his priorities.

  The next day, Wednesday morning, Daisy had an idea. She picked up her phone and dialed Cannon.

  “Culver,” he said after one ring.

  “Hey, Culver,” she said in a serious tone. “It’s Close.”

  He chuckled. “Hi, Close.”

  “You knew it was me before you answered,” she told him, “so why all military seriousness still?”

  “Habit,” he said. “Next time I’ll … I don’t know. How do normal people answer the phone?”

  “In the U.S.? Hello usually works.”

  “Hello,” he said, trying out the word. “I’ll give it a shot.”

  “Wanna go on a date?” She was too excited to wait any longer.

  “I thought you’d never ask. Just say when and where.”

  “I’m up for an award from the North American Literary Society—”

  “What! That’s amazing! I mean, it sounds amazing, why didn’t you mention it like first thing when we met?”

  “You mean, like, ‘Hi, I’m Daisy, I’ve been nominated for a semi-major award’?”

  “That’s what I would do,” he said.

  “I’ll think about it,” she told him. “Anyway, I’m a longshot for the award, but there’s a fancy banquet and all that. What do you think?” The thought of seeing Cannon in a tux on the red carpet almost made Daisy zone off in a little fantasy. Oh wait, no red carpet, but the tux could be a real thing.

  “I am so in,” he said. “When is it?”

  The excitement in his voice made Daisy feel all energetic and excited for the date.

  “No running off? No being distracted?”

  “Cross my heart, hope to die,” he said. “Just tell me when it is and what to wear.”

  “It’s a week from Saturday.”

  “Oh no. Saturday?”

  “Yeah, next Saturday night.”

  Cannon groaned. “I work Saturday. I’m on a train every Saturday, either northbound or southbound. And even if I’m southbound, the train is delayed more often than not, so there’s no guarantee I could make it after the train ride.”

  That’s right. Daisy should have known that, but she still felt totally bummed out after getting her hopes up and picturing him in his fancy tux. And once again she was back to the same question: would he ever put her first in his life?

  “Do you ever get days off?” It wasn’t like she was asking him to get it off so they could go see a movie. This was a once-in-a-lifetime event for her.

  “No,” he said, “except for the five and a half days I’m not working.”

  “You haven’t had a Saturday off since you started working for the Golds?”

  Cannon paused. “How’d you know … I guess the info is out there, even though I never told you Pasha’s last name. Anyway, no. The custody arrangement is rock solid, and Mr. ... my employer hand-selected me for the job.”

  “No one can cover for you? None of your other brothers?”

  “No. Our contract is very clear about that. If I don’t go, Pasha doesn’t go, and then it’s custody apocalypse.”

  That sounded bad. Daisy didn’t want to cause any type of apocalypse. “Well, it was worth a shot,” she told him. She knew she had failed to keep her disappointment out of her voice. Actually she hadn’t tried to keep the disappointment from being apparent.

  “Are you free tonight? Tomorrow? Sunday? Monday? Not that I’m desperate or anything, but … well, yeah, I’m dying to see you.”

  Daisy understood he had to work, and she could work with his schedule, but every time she gave him a chance, it went perfect for a while then took a nosedive. She couldn’t just keep letting that happen. “How do I know I won’t get dumped halfway through the date?”

  Cannon didn’t answer. A veritable eternity passed over about fifteen seconds.

  “Cannon? Did I lose you?”

  “I’m still here.”

  Wow, even after begg
ing to go out with her he couldn’t make a simple promise to complete one single date. Her excitement had transformed into disappointment, and was starting to rise into frustration.

  “Let’s take it slow,” she said. “I’ll give you some time to figure out if you want to date me or date your job and your brothers.”

  “Daisy—”

  “I can take your Friday, Saturday schedule. I don’t expect you to quit your job for me after one date—well, half a date. But I won’t be a back-up option. I can’t hang around on the sidelines just in case you decide you have a little time for me.”

  “Daisy, please—”

  “I’m not mad, Cannon, and I’m not saying we’re through, but you can’t even commit to one single uninterrupted date, and I am not doormat material.”

  “What can I do?” he said pleadingly.

  “I’ve told you what I want, what I need from a boyfriend. Just like in my editing work, it’s not my job to tell you how to fix it. Give me a call in a few days if you figure it out.”

  With a trembling thumb, she ended the call. Just then tears spilled over and ran down both sides of her face. She was nervous and disappointed, but mostly proud of herself. Doormat might have been a little overstated, but at the moment that was how she felt. Tough as it was, she knew she had to stand her ground now to give them both the best chance at a happily ever after.

  Cannon stared at his screen. Sure enough, she’d hung up on him.

  Doormat? Had he really made her feel like a doormat?

  He wanted to throw up. Without taking time to consider, he dialed Daisy’s number.

  Voicemail. He dialed again, and voicemail again.

  For two nights now he’d lost sleep because he knew that he might not have a shot with her if he couldn’t figure out how to balance dating with his responsibilities, but finding out that he had hurt her that badly made him physically ill. What was the purpose of anything in his life if he made the woman he cared about so much feel like a doormat?

  Oh man, he really was going to throw up.

  Since calling wasn’t working, he tried texting. Daisy, I am so so so sorry I made you feel like that. I know I have a lot to learn about dating. I’m going to figure this out. Please give me another chance.

  Why couldn’t this be simple? Like a fight. Man against man, strength and preparation and the grace of God deciding the victor.

  His phone dinged. Figure it out. Then let me know.

  At least that was something. Too bad Cannon had no idea where to start.

  Hours after Daisy had hung up on him, Cannon felt a little better. He didn’t have a plan exactly, but he had a next step. As he drove down the familiar I-5 from Los Angeles to San Diego, he used the voice features of his SUV to order roses to be delivered to Daisy’s house. It would have been better to have them delivered to a public place like her job, but since she had a home office, he didn’t have a choice.

  He wanted to text, he wanted to call, he wanted to show up on her doorstep, but he still hadn’t figured anything out. Hopefully his next move would give him some idea of how to fix things with her.

  Why he had chosen Sutton Smith to talk to about his women problems, he didn’t know. Corbin had a little experience, but he hadn’t come back to Earth from the honeymoon phase yet. None of the other SEALs had any experience with women to speak of, except River who was up a serious creek in regards to some duke’s daughter. As far as Cannon knew, Sutton and River were in the planning stages of some grand rescue in England.

  At least Sutton had been married at one point, to Doug’s mother. But that had only lasted long enough for Doug to be born, then it had been Sutton and Doug on their own. Who else did Cannon have to turn to? His years in the military had been enough to split all the close ties with Warsong and Pike and his parents had died years ago from smoking-related cancers.

  Traffic was relatively light and he pulled up to Sutton’s place in record time. He loved coming here. Architecture wasn’t Cannon’s strong point, but he’d heard English Tudor thrown around in regards to the humongous mansion with all the peaks in the roof and expansive floors. It featured upgraded everything and sat on a few acres right on an ocean cliff. It was one of the premier properties in Southern California.

  Besides, it always felt like coming home. Even though his home as a child was inner city ghetto and nothing like this upscale way of life, it was still home. While Cannon had never been in love with money, or craved the lifestyle of this type of house, it was satisfying to be able to walk through the front doors without knocking and make himself at home. Doug had grown up here, and Cannon could still feel a little bit of him here.

  He pulled up behind the twin of his SUV. Probably River’s vehicle. The front of the property was aged red brick in various geometric configurations with half a dozen steps leading to the front door. There was stone accent here and there, mostly on the foundation as if this was a new style of British castle. Cannon pushed open the huge front door and nodded at the security guy sitting in the lobby. In addition to the SEALs in the Warrior Project, Sutton had a whole team of private security guys. Ever since River had started stirring up trouble with that duke back in England, the mansion had been on high alert. Maybe not DEFCON 5, but at least DEFCON 3.

  Agatha appeared in the lavish entry way and hurried over to him in her way of taking quick, short steps. “Oh, Cannon, my boy. It’s so good to see ya.”

  She was dressed in her usual bright garb. Today it was a purple blouse with loose orange and pink swirled leggings. The loud outfit made her white hair seem like part of the get-up but it was her real hair. Agatha had been taking care of Sutton since he was a child, and seemed to enjoy the chance to mother the SEALs who came through his house.

  “Hi, Agather,” he told her, mimicking her accent. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “You boys like to have your fun, but one of these days we’ll have you in jolly ol’ England and we’ll see then who talks funny. Now, can I get you something to eat?”

  “No thanks. I need to talk to Sutton. Is he around?” Let her think that they had some important security business to talk about. If she found out he was looking for advice about girls, he’d never hear the end of it.

  “I’ll take you back,” said River, coming around the corner into the entryway. A guy Cannon didn’t know trailed in with River.

  Agatha said, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Don’t you forget to say cheerio before you leave, Cannon.”

  “If you’re near the ice cream counter, I won’t be able to miss you,” he said as she walked away. He clasped hands with River and pulled him in for a one-arm man-hug. Worry and stress were obvious on River’s face. Cannon hadn’t seen him looking so worn-down since their SEAL days.

  “You hanging in there?” asked Cannon.

  “I guess. What choice do I have? How about you, Barney? How’s the babysitting?”

  Cannon laughed. Oh, it was good to have brothers, even in hard times. “Life is good, man. I’m still getting paid the big bucks to ride trains, play Candyland, and watch Disney movies.”

  “That sounds perfect for you, choir boy.” River wasn’t smiling but there was a certain timbre to a man’s voice when he was messing with you.

  “Yeah, way too plebeian for a silk-stocking aristocrat like you.”

  River chuckled. “Hey, this is Steve.”

  The new guy stepped up. He had a young-looking face, mid-twenties, with white-blond hair. They shook hands, both gripping a little harder than they had to.

  Cannon could recognize a new SEAL that Sutton had taken in to help with the transition to normal life. “What Team were you?”

  “The best one,” said Steve. “Team 6.”

  Cannon feigned confusion. “They must not have taught you how to count in your training because if you’re talking about the best, you mean 7.”

  “A West Coast team?” replied Steve with the same fake surprise. “Surfer dudes and muscle heads? If you think 7 is the best, you must
’ve been concussed one time too many.”

  “Careful,” said River playfully. “Them’s fighting words around here. The founding Warrior Project guys are all Team 7.”

  “Ah,” said Steve, suddenly understanding. “That explains why they brought me in. To fix the place up.”

  Cannon and River chuckled. Steve would fit right in around here.

  “Welcome aboard,” said Cannon. “If you need anything, I’ve got a good listening ear.”

  River said, “He’s a former Navy Chaplain and still our informal therapist, pastor, and conscience. Feel free to confess all your sins. He’ll even give you a sticker that says, Forgiven.

  It was so good to be back with the guys, even when they gave him a hard time. He told Steve, “Hopefully someone warned you not to listen to a thing River says. But seriously, I’ll listen if you need to talk.”

  “Thanks, brother.” They shook hands and did the man-hug. “I’ll let you guys catch up.” Steve walked out, leaving them alone in the huge entryway.

  River spoke in a quiet tone. “Hey, the plan we talked about? The mission in England? It’s looking like a go. Sutton’ll brief you when we get closer, but I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything, man. Unless you want to borrow one of my pistols. Or my dart gun, stun baton, volt shockers, or … well pretty much, you can’t play with my toys.”

  Some of the stress on River’s face faded as he smiled. “You perform weddings, right?”

  “I’ve done a few.”

  “How do you feel about becoming ordained in the U.K.?”

  Now that did sound fun. “I’m in. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there with my stole on.”

  “I knew I could count on you.”

  “Who am I marrying?” asked Cannon.

  With a conspiratorial chuckle, River put an arm around Cannon and led him away while he filled him in on the details.

  Even the hallway was something out of a movie set with large wood beams framing it every six feet or so. When they reached the doorway to Sutton’s huge office, River stopped and said, “I’m glad I can count on you, Big Gun.”