Cowboy SEAL Daddy

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Stay with us until Wayne comes home.” Jules wrapped her arm around Paisley’s waist. “We’ll get you set up with a great local doctor, establish a birthing plan. I’ll be your Lamaze coach.”

  “Jules, Peter, how can I thank you?” Paisley hugged them again. This time, fiercely. Would she see them again? Odds were, she would not.

  And if Wayne was to get injured while he was overseas?

  Her heart thundered at the mere thought.

  If Wayne were to be injured because her signature brand of crazy had served as a contagion, Paisley would never forgive herself.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You can’t avoid her forever,” Monica said in Paisley’s office. With her due date only a week away, Paisley was tying up loose ends on the last of her open design projects. As for the open wound in her heart ever since her split with Wayne? She doubted that would ever be healed.

  “I can and will avoid my mother till the end of time.” Paisley rifled through the various layers of samples and client folders littering her normally tidy desk. “Have you seen the Levys’ master bath marble sample? Since they added to their project, I promised bookended slabs for their shower wall but—”

  Monica sipped from a ginger ale. With her morning sickness in full swing, the two of them made quite a pair. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but your mom approached me at the reception. She told me she learned about our weddings through my Instagram. She explained how many times she’s called you, but you never answer. I felt horrible, standing there, acting like this was news to me when I know how many times you ignored her calls. I’m sorry, okay? It’s my fault she was there. But you get all the blame for giving her the cold shoulder.”

  “There’s no blame. Only work. Lots and lots of work that has to get done before my little angel makes his appearance.”

  Monica collapsed onto the sofa. “I feel like dog doo. Have you felt this lousy for the last nine months?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Fantastic.” Monica groaned. “Did you ever stop to think your mom might share insight that could help you repair the damage of leaving Wayne at the altar?”

  “It wasn’t that dramatic. I might have bolted in front of everyone, but for all they know, I was sick. I broke up with him in private.”

  From her reclining position, Monica snorted. “Like that makes it so much better? Logan and the rest of the guys knew the score. Poor Wayne was crushed. I’m not saying you should have gone through with the wedding if you weren’t feeling it, but there had to be an easier way to let him down? Talk to your mom, Paise. You owe me that much for nearly giving me a heart attack in the middle of my wedding.”

  “Stop. You’re clearly fine. And anyway, it’s not like I planned it.”

  “Please call. I got an email from Logan last night, and he’s guessing the team will be back on US soil in a few weeks. That gives you plenty of time to figure out your feelings, have your baby, then go with me to the base to welcome home our guys.”

  Paisley leaned forward, resting her forehead against the Levys’ cool, calming marble sample. “I don’t have a guy.”

  “Of course, you do.”

  “Wayne said he’s done with me.”

  “He’s not allowed to make that decision until you’ve officially declared yourself done with him.”

  “Isn’t that what I did by walking out on our wedding and returning his ring?” The events of that night seemed blurry. Only the pain was still sharp. After the fact, holding on to the strict moral code that had kept her sane in the face of her mother’s prison sentence no longer seemed as urgent.

  Was Monica right? Could Paisley benefit from a long talk with her mom?

  There was only one way to find out...

  * * *

  “INCOMING!” LOGAN SHOUTED at the first concussive thump and then squeal of an approaching missile.

  Wayne rounded the corner of a cinder block wall about three seconds shy of having his leg blown off. That was too close. “You okay?”

  “Just dandy.” Logan took Monica’s photo from the thigh pocket on his cargo pants, giving it a quick kiss before checking the ammo remaining in his SCAR-L assault rifle.

  “Glad you’re keeping your head in the game.” Wayne was too proud to admit it, but he missed Paisley. How was she feeling? Had she delivered her baby? He felt like shit about not being there for her—even if she didn’t want him for her husband, he would always be there as her friend. They’d both exchanged harsh words the night that was supposed to have been the happiest of their lives.

  If something happened to him over here and he didn’t get a chance to apologize...

  Well, let’s hope it didn’t come to that.

  “Ready to clear the next floor?”

  “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

  For an intense twenty-three minutes, Wayne and Logan searched the abandoned apartment building where a terrorist cell had holed up.

  Pop, pop, pop!

  Wayne answered the gunfire with rounds of his own.

  The rest of the team worked up and down the block of the formerly thriving Somalian town. Decades of fighting had turned it into a series of architectural skeletons whose steel bones were tragically exposed.

  For an instant, he closed his eyes.

  He saw Paisley hugging her baby bump back on the ranch, standing at the yard’s edge, backlit by a bragging sky.

  Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop!

  Boom!

  The firefight lasted another thirty minutes until their team sniper signaled the enemy rooftop shooters had been cleared. All well and good for the moment, but these terrorist cells were like persistent roaches. Exterminate twenty, yet there always seemed to be a hundred more.

  While his primary thoughts were always on protecting his team, in the background, Paisley was there. Her shy smile and coppery hair glinting in the ranch’s Arizona sun. He loved his job, but in that instant, he couldn’t help but wonder if he maybe loved her more? His family ranch more? Could he be content living out the rest of his days helping his father with the cattle breeding and his mom with her baking? Most of all, could he be the kind of husband to Paisley and father to her son that they both deserved?

  * * *

  “I REPEATEDLY CALLED, but you ignored me. I’m sorry I showed up at your wedding uninvited. I thought it might be a nice gesture. That maybe you deserved a more personal approach.” Paisley’s mother fingered her white cloth napkin’s rolled edge. Having placed orders for salads, both women now sat on the sun-flooded patio of a popular beachside restaurant. Geraniums filled a riot of clay pots. Soft classical music seemed in harmony with the ocean’s natural rhythm. “My being there was an olive branch. Please know I never meant to hurt you.”

  Paisley nodded, refusing to acknowledge the knot blocking her throat.

  “Prison was hard. As it should be. I learned a lot.”

  “You look good. Apparently, you landed on your feet?”

  “Don’t be cruel.” Her mother reached across the table for her daughter’s hands.

  Paisley removed her hands from the table, drying sweaty palms on the thighs of her black maternity slacks.

  “You’re angry. I get that. When you were in college, and should have been coming home for long weekends and to do laundry, I was on lockdown. What I don’t fully understand is why you’re still so upset. Whatever you feel I did to you, I would like nothing more than to make amends. But to do that, I have to know what for.”

  Paisley took a fortifying sip of ice water before leaning in with her forearms pressed to the table. Keeping her voice low, she asked, “How can you be this oblivious and live with yourself? Because of you, I don’t even know what a normal, healthy relationship looks like. I just threw away a wonderful man mostly because I don’t feel worthy. I’m terrified the same wanderlust gene that kept you moving us every six mo
nths might be inside me. I might be a user like you. The love I think I feel for this man might really be more about a convenience factor you taught me all too well. I’m afraid I’m incapable of truly loving him, so instead, I’m using him.”

  “I’m sorry.” Silent tears streamed down her mother’s still beautiful cheeks. “I had you so young. I was only eighteen and when your father took off, and then died, I didn’t know what to do. I had no career like you. No education. All I had were looks and a decent body I admittedly used to manipulate every man I could. I wanted to use them. Hurt them. I wanted them to feel as disposable as your father made me feel.”

  In the worst possible case of timing, their perky waitress delivered their meals and topped off their waters.

  Like Wayne, Paisley left her so-called home at age eighteen. She’d had no friends in the many schools she’d attended, leaving her lots of time for study. Her good grades earned her scholarships that had funded her ultimate escape. College. Her first real friend had been Monica. A meaningful career and the satisfaction of owning a business rounded out her life, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  “The thing is,” Paisley said to her mom, drawing a heart in her water glass’s condensation, “you might have meant to make your many male targets feel disposable. But at the same time, your efforts had a similar effect on me.”

  “Oh, Paisley...” Her mom dabbed her perfectly made-up eyes with her napkin. “While I can never give you back all the years I wish I’d been a better mother, if you’d let me, I’d love nothing more than to start from scratch now.” She withdrew a photo from her purse. It showed her arm in arm with a pleasant-looking man. They both wore leis. “This was taken on our honeymoon in Maui.”

  Typical.

  Fresh out of prison, and already she’d found her latest mark.

  “I can only imagine what you’re thinking,” her mom said. “Here I am again with another man, but this time it’s different. We met at AA and he knows all my darkest secrets. He’s an investment banker who also did time. It’s a dark commonality, but out of pain we’ve forged new lives. I want that for you and your baby. The way Wayne looked at you was the kind of heartfelt meaning that up until meeting Gerald, I’d searched my whole life to find. You’re so fortunate to have it now, while you’re young. Grab hold of your man with both hands, and don’t ever let go.”

  Not the least bit hungry, Paisley shoved her salad away.

  “Congratulations. You always did seem to land on your feet. But here I am—”

  “No.” Her mother shook her head. “Right here and now, if there’s nothing else you take from our meeting, I want you to stop playing the victim. Could your childhood and teen years been better? Absolutely. But that doesn’t mean you get to use them as a crutch to avoid making big decisions for the rest of your life. I suspect you love Wayne every bit as much as he loves you, but you’re too afraid to believe that love is real. Lasting. Because I taught you nothing that’s good ever lasts, am I right?”

  Silent tears streaming down her cheeks, Paisley nodded.

  “All I ever wanted was for you to be my mom. What was wrong with me? Was I that unlovable?”

  “Sweetheart...” She left her seat to wrap Paisley in a hug. “How can you not realize that for all those years you felt abandoned, I always felt as if you were my one bright constant? I love you so much. I just didn’t know how to show that love. But I’m trying. Please try with me. Gerald and I live in La Jolla. I see a counselor every Wednesday. If you’d like, if I can find a time that works with your schedule. Would you please come?”

  Paisley touched her tongue to the roof of her mouth to say no, but then saw the sincerity in her mother’s hopeful smile. “Please. If you give me a chance, I’d like a do-over at being a mom to you and a grandmother to your son.”

  “Yes,” Paisley whispered. But this time, she was the selfish one. On a soul-deep level, she finally realized that while Wayne might have been the one who more vocally resisted marriage, she was the one allowing old emotional scars to prevent new growth.

  The only question now facing her was undoubtedly the most important—how would she get Wayne back into her life long enough for him to give her a second chance?

  * * *

  “ONE MORE PUSH, Paise.” Monica held tight to one hand while Jules held her other.

  “Your baby’s crowning,” said Dr. Stanley, her ob-gyn. “You can do it, Paisley. You’re in the homestretch now.”

  “I’m so proud of you. You’re almost there.” With her free hand, Jules pressed a cool cloth to Paisley’s forehead.

  With all her might, Paisley bore down, “Arggghhh!”

  The pain was beyond anything she’d ever imagined, but then came exquisite relief, along with the miraculous sound of her son’s first bellowing cry.

  Relief flooded her system, resulting in instant tears and laughter and unabashed joy. The only missing element in the scene was Wayne. But she planned on fixing that soon.

  Her mother and Gerald were in the waiting room with Peter and Monica’s parents. It was such an odd thing, planning the rest of her life around a man who had no idea he was included, but when a nurse placed tiny little John Wayne Jr. in Paisley’s arms, she couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her days with anyone but Wayne.

  “He’s gonna be a lady-killer.” Monica gazed upon the infant with the serene smile of a woman anticipating her own baby’s birth.

  “I’ve never seen a more precious sight.” Jules cupped her trembling hand to the crown of the baby’s head. “You are going to be spoiled rotten, Baby Johnny.”

  “Jules,” Paisley asked, “do you think Wayne will give me a second chance?”

  “If he doesn’t—” she tucked Paisley’s hair behind her ears “—I’ll ground him for life.”

  “I’m serious.” Paisley held her son in the crook of her right arm, grasping Jules’s hand with her left. “What should I do? I—I’m so sorry for the way we left things. There’s so much to say.”

  “And you two will have your entire lifetimes to do exactly that. Now rest.” She kissed Paisley’s forehead. “Trust me, everything’s going to work out fine.”

  Cradling her son, Paisley wished with all her heart she felt as confident about their shared future as Wayne’s mom.

  * * *

  WAYNE DELIBERATELY TOOK his time gathering his gear and leaving the C-130 transport.

  He dreaded seeing the happy families.

  The dolled-up wives and girlfriends excited for a hot night with their men.

  What did Wayne have? Squat.

  He’d tried not being bitter about the way things turned out between Paisley and him, but it was kind of hard when he’d given her everything she’d professed to want, yet she’d still rejected him.

  Normally, when a guy on the team got dumped, everyone gave him hell, but as if by an unspoken agreement, they’d all kept their pieholes shut. A fact for which he was profoundly grateful. How many guys could say they’d voluntarily had their hearts shredded not once, but twice?

  He was one of the lucky few.

  Veering across the tarmac, away from the crowd, Wayne took his Ray-Ban Aviators from a shirt pocket, slipped them on, then slapped his straw cowboy hat on top of his head.

  The sun was too damned hot.

  His mood was too damned foul.

  He’d made it almost the three hundred yards to the hangar when he heard someone calling his name. He froze.

  “Wayne! Wait up!”

  He turned to find Paisley pushing a jogging stroller at a full-on run. Logan told him she’d had her baby. He didn’t dare dwell on the news, since it would only make him more resentful of the fact that he hadn’t been with her in the delivery room. Why was she here? Hadn’t she already made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him?

  He should apologize for his harsh words, but he wasn�
�t ready. Not yet. But soon.

  “Hi...” She hunched over, badly out of breath.

  “Hey.” He fought the urge to reach out to her. At the very least, offering her a swig from his canteen.

  “Monica told me your team was coming home today. Hope you don’t mind that she told a few fibs to get me on base.”

  “Let me get this straight.” He lowered his sunglasses. “You refused to marry me because of lies, but you have no problem lying your way past armed guards onto a military base? You are some piece of work.” He slid his sunglasses back in place—not to protect his eyes, but because he couldn’t bear for her to know he was staring at the wonder of her baby boy. The boy he’d wanted to raise as his own. “Get to the point of why you’re here, Paise. I need a beer and a shower.”

  Her eyes welled with tears while her lower lip quivered. “Don’t you want to meet my baby?”

  “I’ve seen him. He’s cute.”

  “Guess his name.”

  “I couldn’t care less.” Now, who’s lying? Turning his back on her so she couldn’t see the pain no doubt as plain as the nose on his face, Wayne started walking again.

  With her size mostly back to normal, she was faster than he’d grown used to. Even while steering the stroller, she caught up to drag him back around by his sleeve. “Ask my baby’s name.”

  “What do you want from me? Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to admit that back on the ranch, the night of our wedding, I was a fool. I’m sorry. So very sorry. If we live to a hundred, I’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to make it up to you. Please, give me a second chance.”

  “Why?” I want to give you as many chances as it takes to make you mine, but what’s the point? His heart felt in danger of pounding from his chest. “What changed that this time around anything would be different? Or that you’d keep your promise to never leave?”

  “I talked to my mom. We’re in counseling together. We still have a way to go, but things between us are better. I now see that it wasn’t you I mistrusted, but myself. For years, I’d worked so hard not to be like her, that in some ways, I went in the opposite to the extreme. Instead of manipulating men to always provide, I’ve warred with myself to never need. But what I learned is that we all need. I especially need you. I love you. There, I said it, and I don’t care who hears.” She arched her head back and shouted, “I love Wayne Brustanovitch and want to be his wife!”