Navy SEAL's Match

by Amber Leigh Williams

  Using their entwined hands, he pulled her to him again. “Okay,” he murmured. He turned his nose against the place beneath her ear and held her fast against his heart, nodding. “Okay, Frexy.”

  She stopped talking, thinking—everything. Quickly, her arms banded around his shoulders. Closing her eyes, she burrowed against hot skin, muscle and bone, doing her best to hold firm.

  Then he said the one thing that could undo her entirely.

  “I promise.” Husky, sure miracles tripped off his tongue. “I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

  She shuddered again. It might’ve been a silent sob, but she ignored it. Indulging the need to grin like an idiot, she ran her hands up and down his back. “You promised.”

  “There’s a first for everything. Right?”

  She skimmed a kiss across his lips in reward. Then another in gratitude. And another...because she wanted another. Stop smiling. Stop. He’ll think you’re insane. “What’re we going to tell our parents?”

  “At this rate, I don’t care,” he said, adjusting his weight. She gave a sharp gasp when he hitched her all the way onto his lap. “What I want to know is, do you always kiss dirty?”

  She beamed. His hands were underneath her now, emboldening her to answer. “Is there another way?”

  “Aw.” He laughed, bringing his mouth up to hers. “Aren’t you perfect?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “ARE YOU SURE we should be doing this?” Mavis asked as she and Gavin approached the farmhouse the following Sunday. Prometheus trotted ahead of them on the familiar path. A frisson of disquiet skated up her spine. Her family was inside, most likely with Harmony and Bea.

  “Not getting cold feet, are you, Frexy?” Gavin wondered.

  Mavis didn’t want Gavin knowing how close he was to the truth so she gave his hand a squeeze. He’d hung his ball cap on her head somewhere along the drive from the river. She was glad of its shadow right now.

  She’d never introduced a guy to her family. Not because she feared the wide-reaching channels of information that branched from the Brackens to Gavin’s family back to the Leightons and others. And not just because her brother was a SEAL who would’ve intimidated any of her past romantic prospects on sight. She hadn’t introduced a man to her family because she’d made a vow not to do so after the painful incident with Aaron Quarters. Its solemnity had been restored after the affair with William Leighton.

  So it was simple. She didn’t introduce a man to her parents unless he introduced her to his first.

  Gavin had always been good at breaking barriers. The windows of the house loomed. Anybody could have been watching from inside yet Mavis kept her hand in his.

  They were really doing this.

  Honesty, he’d said. Putting everything on the table so they didn’t have to sneak around the people they respected and loved the most.

  Kyle’s absence at the table would make the bombshell slightly less explosive, though repercussions would come swiftly from that department. Harmony’s inability to keep a secret was notorious.

  But Mavis knew how to handle her brother. It was only by reminding him that he’d made a move on Gavin’s sister two months ago. Kyle and Harmony’s flirtation had even gone on in secret until Mavis inadvertently walked in on a make-out session.

  Her parents... Mavis frowned at the windows. James and Adrian were more of a mystery. She didn’t know how either of them would react. They both liked Gavin. He’d been welcome at the table since their time at the farm began. Despite his bad reputation in school, Adrian had always given him the benefit of the doubt, and James had approached him from a position of understanding. He, too, had been the small-town rabble-rouser once.

  Whether they trusted a rabble-rouser with their daughter, Mavis couldn’t be sure.

  Plus, there was the important fact that Mavis just wasn’t willing to give away much about her and Gavin’s relationship. She wanted to guard what had grown between them and guard it fiercely.

  Whatever was between her and Gavin remained undefined, fragile, and she feared that a hard enough wind—blown from the direction of James, Adrian or Kyle or some correlation of the three—might knock it over before it could gather strength.

  She wasn’t ashamed. She was protective. She’d told Gavin her own truth—she wanted this. She wanted him. She wanted however much he could give before he felt he had to move on and find himself.

  She wanted to give him the strength and confidence to do so. She hadn’t planned for anything romantic. Yet if being with her helped him find a way to stand taller against his demons, she no longer saw why they shouldn’t be together. Her regard and her feelings for him grew every chance they had. The closer she got, the closer she wanted to get.

  As they climbed the steps to the porch where Prometheus waited, panting and patient, Gavin passed his free hand over his head. “I should’ve brought something for your mother.”

  “She sees plenty of flowers; she’s a florist,” Mavis reminded him. “And she doesn’t keep wine or liquor in the house. What option does that leave for a proper hostess gift?”

  “I don’t know. A pineapple?”

  Mavis moved into his path before he could open the door. “Wait. Just a second.”

  “Is this where you change my mind and turn back?”

  His eyes swept quickly over her face. This close, he could see. He potentially saw everything. The niggling doubts. The expansive need. She fought the urge to look away. Touching her fingers to his shirt, she murmured, “I’m not getting cold feet. Though I do think you’re crazy for wanting to tell everyone.”

  “Because they’ll overreact.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You want to tell them because not telling them means hiding. And as close as everyone is in this town, that’ll be pure exhausting.”

  “Damn right.”

  “I think, deep down, it’s... Don’t hate me for this.” She screwed up her face. “Honorable?”

  Gavin hissed in reaction.

  She nearly smiled. “I think after all this time you still respect my parents, as much as you respect Cole and Briar. Am I right?”

  “Maybe I just want to creep out my sister and get good and thrashed by your brother,” he said.

  “It adds up.” Fisting his shirt in both hands, she tapped her knuckles against his chest. “It adds up so much I’m inclined to think it’s awfully big of you, Petty Officer.”

  He shook his head slightly. “Don’t do that.”

  “Does being called ‘petty officer’ again make you as uncomfortable as ‘Freckles’ makes me?”

  “If by uncomfortable, you mean ‘really want to kiss you,’ then yeah.” He smiled, slow and warm enough to make her knees ache in tune with her chest. “I’m painfully uncomfortable.”

  His mouth brushed hers in a barely there tease that nearly brought her to her toes. Her palms flattened against his chest. They hummed there as he slid his lips across hers to the corner of her mouth where they firmed in a gentle kiss.

  She held on, the silence holding her, and lifted to the points of her boots. Her mouth skimmed the lowest scar, just below his cheekbone. She tilted her head, following the rough tissue half an inch along the seam.

  His fingers bit into the skin between her high-waisted jeans and her crop top. She felt him give against her. She absorbed him like a sun-kissed breeze.

  He held her tight, tighter, for another minute. The far-off sound of clanking made Prometheus rattle off a series of barks and trot off the edge of the porch to investigate.

  Mavis eased back. “It’s Dad,” she whispered, unable to gather volume. “Probably in the barn.”

  “Mmm.” The mumble was rife with regret.

  “More,” she promised, glancing at him through her lashes as she gripped the handle of the door. “Later.”

  “Soon,” he ad
ded.

  She nodded. Then she went into the house because to stay on the porch with him meant making out. They hadn’t done that since the river, and stopping what they’d done at the river had nearly killed her.

  Alone, she promised herself. She’d be alone with him soon and they’d see how wild things could grow. As soon as they sorted whatever complications their families were sure to hand them. “Mom?” she called.

  “What?” Adrian shouted from the back of the house. “Who’s there?”

  Mavis shut the door behind them. “Uh. It’s me. Your daughter.”

  “Oh. Mavis. Thank God. I’m in the kitchen!”

  Mavis frowned as she moved through the house. Gavin stayed behind her, his hand spanning the curve of her hip.

  The house was cozily arranged with flowers spilling out of every container. Plaid blankets were folded over armchairs. Textured rugs bled over hardwood floors marked by character. The hearth was laid with logs even if they wouldn’t be lit until fall weather chose to set in. The rooms smelled like pine and wood polish. They were cool, but warmth was abundant—in the color palette, the multitude of family photos framed on walls and tables, and the sense that this was a place where people embraced each other fully.

  The earth-tone kitchen with its honey-oak cabinetry boasted enough room for entertaining. It opened into the dining area with a brawny table around which claw-foot chairs were cluttered. Mavis noted that it wasn’t yet laid with chinaware or the traditional floral arrangement. “Mom?”

  “Up here.”

  Mavis looked around. Her brows nearly hit her hairline when she saw Adrian standing on the kitchen counter, armed with a feather duster, a sponge and a can of Lysol. “What’re you doing?”

  “Cleaning like the dickens,” Adrian answered briskly. Her arm worked in furious circles.

  Mavis narrowed her eyes. “Is, um...is anything wrong?”

  “Yes,” Adrian said with a decisive nod. “Oh, yes. It’s coming.”

  Mavis moved toward her, wondering how to get her down. “What’s coming?”

  “The fifth horseman of the apocalypse,” Adrian said, finally glancing around. She was wild-eyed. Her hair was in unusual disarray and her cheeks were flushed. “No, the Antichrist. Think of your worst nightmare, doll it up in freakishly white Keds and a fur-trimmed vest that some poor bunny had to die to make, and you’ve got it!”

  Mavis’s eyes widened slowly. “Oh, crud.”

  “Who’s she talking about?” Gavin asked in an undertone, as if he were afraid to spook Adrian.

  “Shit on a broomstick,” Mavis said. No wonder Adrian was so agitated. Mavis turned to him. “My grandmother’s coming.”

  It struck him, too, visibly. “Oh.”

  James entered from the back door, letting Prometheus in with him. “Horses are shod. They’ve got plenty of hay. Mavis.” He gave her a peck on the head. “That beauty from Mobile’s starting to get friendly with Fury. They’ve been nosing along the fence for the better part of the afternoon. If the vet approves, we could have a new foal next spring. And you,” he said, pointing up to his wife. “Thanks for making that run into town for feed. Come down from there, li’l mama, so I can kiss you.”

  With a nimbleness that caught Mavis further off guard, Adrian bounded down from the countertop, abandoning the cleaning in her rush. She grabbed her husband by the arms. “Run.”

  James let out a half laugh. Then stopped and pressed a hand to her cheek. “Adrian...”

  “My mother is coming, James. You need to run.”

  His mouth fell. “Say that again?” he said numbly.

  “She just called,” Adrian confirmed. “She’ll be here. Tonight. Get the hell out of here while you still can. Take Mavis with you. The last time Edith was here, she threatened to get her exorcised.”

  “What, really?” Gavin asked.

  Mavis sighed, pinching the space between her eyes.

  James finally found his feet, sidestepping Adrian and heading straight for the exit.

  Gavin dropped his voice and leaned toward Mavis’s ear. “Is he? Running?”

  James stopped, doubled back and, in the spirit of a man beyond comprehension, yanked the door to the refrigerator open.

  Adrian wrung her hands as James stood at the fridge. Both seemed to be in a complex state of indecision. Mavis looked from one parent to the other, trying to decide which to approach first. As her father simply stared at the organized shelves, she cautiously moved to him. “Dad?” He didn’t answer. She tried again. “Dad? Can I help you with something?”

  He stood, brow knit, scowl engaged. “It’s not here.” He shook his head, as if he didn’t understand.

  “What’s not here?” she asked.

  “There’s no beer in this fridge.”

  Mavis closed her eyes and fought not to drag her fingers through her hair. “Dad...”

  The refrigerator door shut. James’s voice rang with desperation. “Why is there no beer in this refrigerator?”

  “Dad!” Mavis said, raising her voice to match his. “You’re in AA! Neither you nor Mom has brought beer into this house as long as I’ve been alive!”

  “I bought a drink at an Irish pub the day after you were born,” he admitted. The confession tumbled out, absently. His eyes glazed. “I didn’t drink it. Just sat there staring at it while the bartender told me some story about a good girl named Brandy and some asshole who couldn’t commit.”

  “Isn’t that a song?” Gavin asked from the other side of the room, where he and Prometheus were trying to lie low.

  “What a lovely story,” Mavis interjected. She grabbed James by the collar and yanked him toward the table. “This way.” Once she’d arranged him, sprawled, in his usual chair at the head of the table, she went to Adrian, tugging the feather duster away with some resistance. “Mom, go upstairs. Take a bubble bath, meditate, whatever. She’s coming. You might as well pull yourself together.”

  “I haven’t done the top of the breakfront,” Adrian protested even as Mavis led her out by the elbow. “Or the chandelier. And the potatoes! You know how she is about potatoes. Mavis, who’s going to cook the potatoes?”

  “Let me worry about all that,” Mavis insisted. She nearly had to chase Adrian up the stairs with the feather duster. She waited for several moments at the bottom to make sure her mother wouldn’t come back down. Then she met Gavin at the entrance to the kitchen. “I’m sorry...”

  “Not tonight,” he agreed. “What can I do?”

  “Call Zelda.”

  “Zelda?”

  “We need to fill every chair at the dinner table,” she explained. “Ask if she’s available for dinner. Tell her to bring Errol, if possible. Tell her there’s likely to be a little theater—that’ll entice her. Second...” Mavis went to the side table and opened a drawer. She drew out a pack of cards and handed them to him. “You’ll find the poker chips in the breakfront,” she informed him. “Let Dad take every dime you’ve got. It’ll give him something to think about—besides Budweiser and matriarchal woes.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asked her.

  She’d already rolled up her proverbial sleeves. Picking up a spray bottle and a dishrag, she said, “Clean. Cook. Whatever I have to do to get this place polished enough to satisfy one über-discerning, nausea-inducing grandmother.”

  He frowned. “Good luck with that.”

  The back door opened. Mavis expected to see Harmony. The person walking in gave her the second cold shock of the day. “What are you doing here?”

  Kyle stopped as he tucked a long-stemmed bouquet under one arm and half embraced Prometheus, who leaped at him in greeting. “I live here,” he stated plainly.

  “Son!” James crossed the room in a long gait. He hauled Kyle to him with one strong arm, clasping him in a taut hug. There he clung like a wet blanket.

 
“Dad.” Kyle chuckled, thumping him on the back once...then again when James didn’t let go. His brows lowered as he eyed Mavis over James’s plaid-covered shoulder. “Everything okay?”

  “Edith’s coming to dinner,” Mavis said, snapping on a pair of rubber working gloves that went all the way to the elbow.

  “Son of a...” The sentiment died off when Kyle’s eyes shifted to Gavin. “You’re still here?”

  “Yep,” Gavin said, placing one hand on Prometheus’s head after the dog trotted back to his side. “Still here.”

  Mavis fought not to reach for Gavin like she wanted to. Instead, she extracted her father from Kyle’s arms. “Dad. I told you. Sit down. Gavin’s going to play cards with you.”

  “You hate gambling,” James reminded her.

  “Yes, well,” she grumbled as she made sure they both took their seats, “I’ll pretend you’re knitting or something.”

  “Mom doesn’t know I’m here yet,” Kyle said, snatching off his ball cap and peering through the door. “I could sneak off to Harmony’s...”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” she said, resisting the urge to grab him by the beard and haul him away from the exit. “Edith likes you. You’re the buffer. You can be the one to greet her.” She took the flowers. “With these!”

  “Yeah, those were for Harmony,” he stated in protest.

  “Wah wah wah,” Mavis chided. “Go upstairs. Comb your hair. Shave. Then come back. Since you’re here, I’ve got a list of chores for you, too.”

  Kyle groused all the way to the fridge. He opened the door.

  “There’s no beer in there, son,” James called from the table.

  “Yes, Daddy,” Mavis said. “We know.” At Kyle’s deep-riddled frown, she motioned with silent urgency. “Go!”

  As her brother finally did as he was told, she ran her fingers through her hair to straighten it. Kyle’s arrival in addition to Edith’s slapped one conundrum on top of the other.

  Mavis couldn’t fight the feeling that with Edith, the conundrums would arrive in droves and soon be stacked like pancakes.

  * * *

  “SO. JAMES.” EDITH took her time choosing a leaf of lettuce from her bowl. She stabbed it with her fork. “I hear you’re just getting out of prison again.”