Two Weeks With a SEAL (The Wakefield Romance Series)

by Hewitt, Theresa Marguerite

  "Thank you for calling the Patrick Henry Mall Victoria's Secret, this is Rhea, how can I help you," the greeting rolled off of my tongue, having to answer it the same way every time in case it was a big-wig in the company. Wouldn't want to piss anyone off today.

  "Ray," Dana Payne's voice came through the phone, excitement plain and simple in her tone bringing a smile to my lips. I owed that woman a lot, she had been there to help me through whatever I went through in the last year when my mother was too depressed to.

  "Hey Dana, what's up," her good vibes seem to flow through the phone because I feel better already, leaning on the edge of my desk top.

  "Chad's comin' home for two weeks today," the giddiness was over flowing, her happy little giggles spilling out. I was shocked, my heart beating fast like it did every time someone mentioned Chad's name. Pictures flooded my mind of the two times him and I had had sex. The look of his body, the feel of his touch, the taste of his lips, it all made my palms sweaty and my legs tremble, gripping the phone tighter to my ear. "Can you come over tonight and have dinner with us, I'm gonna make his favorite roast chicken," she asked, hopefulness in her plea.

  "Ah, um," I mumbled, not sure at first if I was emotionally ready to see this man that I was in love with, but I resolved, "of course. I'll be there around six-thirty, is that okay?" My mind raced at what I was going to change into when I raced the hour car drive home from work at five, my fingers tapping nervously on the metal top of my office desk.

  "Of course honey," she said, and I could swear if she was standing before me, she'd have a sly smile on her lips. I know she probably can sense that I'm holding a candle for Chad. A very long burning, triple wicked candle. Mothers could always tell when their children were in love is what my mom use to say, and I was hoping in that minute that Dana was blind to this notion. "I'll see you then."

  "Okay, see you then," I replied, hanging the phone up after I hear the ending click on her side. "Great," I mumbled to myself, hanging my head in my hands, my legs shaking nervously like they always did when I was anxious. I really needed to eat something now before I started to dry heave from my nerves getting the best of me. It had been a year and a half since I had seen Chad but it felt like his touch still lingered on my skin, the smell of his aftershave coming to my senses.

  Chadwick was six foot three, his muscular build only growing after he and Randy had joined the Navy. He had broad shoulders and massive arms, a defined chest, abs and muscular legs. Closing my eyes I could see his light blue ones staring back at me, his crooked smile on his lips. His brown hair, that was streaked with grey, naturally wavy and hitting just above his shoulders when down, was pulled back into a short ponytail at the back of his skull. His answer to why he kept his hair longer was that his Team needed someone to play the 'badass redneck', so it would be him. His facial hair was scruffy, dotted with grey as well, and it had tickled my skin as he kissed my neck the last time we had seen each other, the thought of it making delightful shivers run through my body. He had the slight southern drawl that everyone carried in their voice around here, his tone smooth and slightly deep. He had the tendency to use dip, Skoal wintergreen pouches as his poison, but he knew to get rid of it every time I was around. His Pepsi spit can would disappear and he would hide away to rinse his mouth out, knowing how much I despised the idea of kissing someone with chew in their mouth.

  He also despised the guy who had always had his eyes on me, local bad boy, Duke Orr. Hopefully Duke wouldn't show up at my house tonight like he had the last couple of nights, drunk and wanting to come in. I had had to call his friend Harlan Dow to come get him, pulling him away swearing and kicking. Sure, I had slept with Duke once or twice, but it had been drunk interludes when loneliness sets in. The last time had been last month and it hadn't even really been sex because he passed out on the bed as I was taking his pants off. I had left him there, his jeans around his ankles with his boots still on and had Harlan drive me home. I was in no way intending to get serious with the man who had slept with pretty much every girl in town, no thanks. Duke was cute, but he also had a temper that reminded me of my father, and there was no way in hell I was willing to go down that road.

  My heart seemed to lift my feet off of the ground for the rest of the afternoon, my lunch time spent more daydreaming than eating, my Chinese food cold and still sitting in front of me as my Manager walked in. She leaned over my shoulder, trying to help me with these damn books, snagging a piece of my egg roll as we put our minds together. "I'm real sorry bout your mama," she said, giving me a one armed hug.

  "Thanks," I smile, trying not to think of it too much. My manager, fifty-something, plump and curvy Jenna Kyle, figured out the issues with the books, finally settling the balances right before five o'clock. Grabbing my light jacket because it was a little above forty degrees today, my little kitten heels clicked on the cement floor as I walked to the front of the store to say goodbye to the floor associates, making sure they were all okay before I locked up my office. Making sure I had everything, I grabbed my purse and Chinese leftovers, heading out the back door through the stock room, my rust bucket of a truck sticking out like a sore thumb in the employee parking.

  My '95 Silverado was old and loud, but it ran like a champ and it's heat only took minutes to kick in as I headed out of Newport News on the 258 South. Turning off of General Malone Highway I hit Main Street then take a right on State Route 620, skirting Wildcat Swamp as I turned onto my dead end street, Lanier Drive.

  Lanier was a short street filled with double-wide homes like mine, and I spotted people out taking down their Christmas lights as I drove to our lot. My family home sat at the very end of the street, occupying the last lot, facing down the road to see everyone approaching. The vinyl siding was light blue and I noticed as I pulled in the half circle gravel driveway at six after six that I should probably paint it this summer. It was faded. The truck door made its familiar creak and slam as I made my away around the bed, bounding up the wooden porch steps and unlocking the heavy storm door with the screen door leaning against my back, the heat hitting my face as I stepped inside. The furnace was cranking away, bringing the temperature up to sixty-five inside as I shed my jacket and put my lunch in the fridge.

  "What to wear, what to wear," I mumbled to myself, tossing my heels off to the side as I make my way down the hall, past all of the boxes and garbage bags, entering my newly occupied master bedroom. The three weeks of my bereavement vacation had been spent cleaning the home, getting rid of the junk, donating some clothes and my mom's old bedroom set, painting the bedrooms and moving all of my stuff into the master room. Dana and Kendall had helped me when they could, but I had done a lot of it on my own, taking truckloads of items to the local Goodwill and Salvation Army stores. My mother's insurance had issued a payment of $300,000, and after paying off all of the funeral expenses I had used the rest to pay off the mortgage, taxes and buy myself a new bedroom set. I painted the bedroom a dark blue and I ran my fingers on the new paint as I stared into my still messy closet.

  My cell phone plays ten seconds of Luke Bryan's "Drunk on You", telling me I had a text and I swiped the touch-screen to see that it was from Dana, stating that the chicken was in the oven. She was too cute and I send back an "Ok" with a winking smiley face, knowing she will giggle when she reads it and I turn my attention back to trying to pick some clothes out. I'm short, about five foot three, and I have what I like to call a 'honky-tonk' butt, my hips and big butt being the only noticeable feature on my body because I have A cup boobs, and I like to wear tight jeans to show off my curve. Settling for a dark pair of skinny jeans, I pull on a pair of tall socks and a blue sweater with a deep V, matching it with a white tank underneath. Rummaging through a plastic tote of shoes, I find my old cowboy boots and tug them on my feet as I hop into my attached bathroom. I scrub my face clean with scalding hot water, removing the stress and makeup from the day, noticing as I wipe my face dry that I'll need to dye my hair soon. I keep my hair black beca
use otherwise it’s the same color as my father's, and personally I don't like people telling me that I remind them of him.

  Lining my bluish-grey eyes with black eyeliner, mascara and blue eye shadow, I grab my jacket, purse and lock the door, getting into my truck at 6:35, tearing out of the driveway, spraying the loose gravel onto the lawn. I cranked up the radio, rocking out to Miranda Lambert as I drove through the main part of town, idling at the stop light in front of Muncy's Pub, spying that Duke's lifted Ram was sitting in the parking lot.

  Wouldn't you know that he was outside on the balcony as I looked up, catching his eye and he waved at me. "Damn it," I mumbled as I meekly waved back, cringing at the smile that reached his lips, stepping on the gas as the light turned green, squealing the tires. Pushing him out of my head I hummed and sang along with the radio, heading out of town to Byrd Drive, just off of State Route 679.

  Kendall's parent's house was the first on the right and I honk obnoxiously as I spot Kendall's Volkswagen Bug in the drive. Chad had purchased the last eight acres on the left side of the street, building two identical homes right next to each other, his mom's the very last home on the street. His house had sat pretty much empty for the last four years, only having the necessities of furniture and appliances, but he never came home that much. I parked next to Dana's Malibu, straightening my sweater and running a shaky hand over my thigh as I slammed my door shut.

  "You still driving that loud rust bucket," the smooth voice greeted me making my eyes snap up from their position on my feet, meeting Chad's light blue eyes. He took my breath away and for a second I was frozen. His hair was pulled back like I remembered, his face adorned with the same grey streaked stubble, a crooked smile on his lips. He was in his MARPAT [Camo] work uniform, the digital green and brown patterns covering his perfect physique. I found my legs once more, slowly walking towards him as he stood in the open doorway leaning to his right, his arms crossed over his chest, a smile creeping to my lips as my face blushed uncontrollably.

  "It runs perfectly fine," I defended my vehicle, Chad giving me a slight chuckle as I ascended the stone steps coming to a stop with my face at the level of his chest. I smiled up at him and for a split second I could see a hurt pass through his eyes, but he shook it off and took the offered loaves of bread from my hands. Stepping to the side, his hand met the small of my back as I walked inside, sending lightning bolts throughout my body and I had to shake it off as I shrugged out of my jacket. Chad took my jacket without a word, putting it in the hall closet and leaving me standing there as he walked towards the kitchen. Great, it's gonna be awkward, I thought, slapping myself lightly in the forehead as I followed his path into the kitchen.

  The house smells amazing. Garlic, chicken, potatoes and all sorts of other mouthwatering aromas assault my senses as I turn into the dining room, stopping abruptly at the sight before me. A large vase of roses sat on the table, Chad standing next to them with a small smile on his face. "What are these," I ask in almost a whisper, Dana's head peeking around the corner from the kitchen.

  "Those are for you honey," she smiled and I gave her a wide-eyed look, "my Chad brought them for you." The smile she gave me told me she knew, oh yes she knew that I had a thing for her son. I turned to Chad and noticed the embarrassment pass through his face, a smile creeping to his lips.

  "I'm real sorry about your mom," he said, his blue eyes darting from mine to his mom. I couldn't help the slight tears that tried to well, rimming my lashes as I stepped up to look at the roses. Eleven white ones [which are my favorite] and one red one, they smelled amazing and looked amazing. The first tear slipped down my cheek, hitting my lips as I lightly ran my fingertips on the soft petals. I wiped the back of my hand across my face, trying to not let Chad see.

  "Thanks," I whisper, but I couldn't hide the little choke, turning my face down and walking into the kitchen. Setting my purse onto the kitchen island, I reach in and get the Zales Jewelers box out, setting it down without a word and going to the fridge. "Smells amazing Dana," I say, pulling out the pitcher of iced tea.

  "Thank you honey," she takes my shoulders in a slight hug, kissing my cheek and her Chanel perfume washes over me, making me think of my mom even more. I take a deep breath in, my eyes closing and settling my emotions. I knew this was going to be hard, but I didn't think every little thing would remind me of her. Thinking about it, she was my mom. She was the woman who had been there pretty much twenty-four seven my entire twenty five years of life, so it makes sense that all of these things brought her to mind. I'll be okay though, I can't let it get to me, life goes on. "Could you set the table for me dear," she asks, checking the chicken in the oven with a thermometer.

  "Of course," I say, setting my purse down in the spare chair by the fridge and grabbing plates from the cupboard above it. This had been the routine for our Sunday dinners, Dana cooking and me setting the table and doing the dishes. Not that I can't cook, but that woman is some sort of gourmet. Her food could be served in the most expensive restaurants out there and no one would know the difference. Carrying the plates with salad bowls stacked on top, I almost run right into Chad as I go back into the dining room, his hands stopping the collision by gripping my shoulders.

  "Let me," he says, taking the plates from my grasp, his rough hands brushing along my forearms and hands, sending tingles up into my neck, a slight shiver shaking my shoulders. My eyes go to his and a slight smile caresses his lips and I know he noticed my reaction, making me blush. The temperature in the room raising at least ten degrees as the blush spread to my arms and legs. This man drove me crazy even when he wasn't near me. The mention of his name sent butterflies going wild in my stomach, my toes tingling, my heart racing. If he knew what he really did to me he'd probably never talk to me again, thinking that I was crazy.

  Trying to shake it off, I grab glasses from another cabinet, the jug of iced tea and a bottle of wine off of the top of the fridge. Going around the table, I straightened Chad's table setting job making him smile, placing the glasses and wine around the table. The three of us were bringing the last bowls and plates of food out from the kitchen when my phone starts playing Dolly Parton's "Nine to Five", signaling that someone from my work is calling. "Excuse me," I say, sliding in my socks like I always do across the hardwood floor, reaching into my oversized purse and fishing out my phone. "Hello," I say with an annoyed tone definitely evident.

  "Rhea, I'm real sorry," one of the cashiers, Kaleigh Jones, replied, "but the alarm is going off and Jenna is off on her dinner." Awesome, just awesome. I sigh into the phone, wondering how mall security isn't already there. It's good to know that if we were being robbed that they were quick to respond.

  "Push disarm, then 22456," I wait, the buzzing of the loud alarm right in my ear as I can hear her punch in the numbers, "then authority," I hear her hit another button, the buzzing stopping followed by three long beeps, signaling that it was disarmed.

  "Thank you," she breathed into the phone and if I could see her she would probably be rubbing the space between her eyes like she always did when she was annoyed.

  "It's okay, just tell Jenna that she'll need to call the alarm company," I walk back into the dining room, rolling my eyes at Dana when she gives me a questioning look.

  "Alright thanks again," Kaleigh issues and I say goodbye, setting my cell phone down as I sit in my usual seat to the right of Dana.

  "You're still working at 'The Secret'," Chad wiggles his eyes as he makes air quotes. They all liked to make fun of me working with bras and panties all day, but it was one hell of a discount. I just wave him off making him laugh, his mom hitting him in the shoulder. I love his laugh; it was rich and thick, filling a room without hesitation. Damn this man, I think, damn this man and his irresistible qualities.

  The chicken is carved by Chad, the platter passed around along with a bowl of mashed potatoes, collard greens, corn bread slices, garlic green beans, chef salad and yellow rice. It was great as always, the three of us silent just enj
oying the home cooking. Chad popped open the bottle of wine and I held my glass out to him, smiling as he shook his head filling my glass. "So can you tell us where you were deployed this time," I ask, knowing that ninety-nine percent of the time, their missions were under lock and key.

  His blue eyes meet mine, seemingly searching for something as he put a forkful of chicken in his beautiful mouth. My eyes go to his lips and I can't help but let my tongue dart out and wet mine, as they were all of sudden very dry. Those lips had been all over my body, searching and pleasing their way up and down, drawing moans from my mouth and my legs quiver bringing me back to reality. I turn my attention back to my salad, pushing the tomatoes to the side as I'm not a very big fan of the red variety.

  "We were in the Middle East," he said, pushing the food around his plate as I peered at him without raising my head from my plate. I knew that he probably had demons deep inside seeing the things that he saw, doing the things that his country bid him to do. I left the conversation at that, knowing that if he wants to tell me, he'll tell me in time. Dana breaks the awkward silence with throat clearing.

  "So what is this," she sets the Zale’s box on the table near my left arm. I nudge it back towards her with a smile on my lips.

  "Just open it," I tell her, my eyes back on my plate. I knew she'd love it and she deserved it for all the help and guidance she had given me, not just over the last month, but for the last year. She gave me a "humpf" sound, wiping her hands on the napkin perched on her lap and taking the box. Snapping it open, her hand goes to her lips as a gasp slips through. I had gotten her a rose gold set of diamond earrings. They were only a half a carat, but she loved rose gold, and what girl doesn't like diamonds?