Mary Margret Daughtridge SEALed Bundle

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Mary Margret Daughtridge SEALed Bundle Page 25

by Mary Margret Daughtridge


  Corey’s face turned serious. “Jax, I don’t have long. I came to tell you that I’ll be leaving now. It’s time for me to move on. You’ll be all right now.”

  “Move on? You mean you’ve been staying for me? Why?”

  “You needed someone to love you.”

  Jax could see Corey at twelve, skinny, too pale, with swollen joints. Oddly gentle smile saying he wasn’t hurt. Corey sitting on the bench—basketball, football, baseball—saying, “Win one for the gimper.” As the years had passed, the contrast between Jax’s healthy, superbly athletic body and Corey’s steadily weaker one grew more marked. There were times, though Jax cringed to remember, when Jax would sense how others viewed his friendship with such a nerd, a wimp, a loser, and with a teenager’s sensitivity to appearances he wished he had a better best friend. But Corey was the one pushing him to find his limits and then exceed them, teaching him the meaning of friendship, and loyalty, and courage. Corey had loved him.

  “Corey, I loved you.”

  Corey smiled a wickedly crooked, rakish, pure Han Solo smile. “I know.”

  Jax laughed. It felt so good to see and talk to Corey again. “Corey, don’t go.”

  “I have to. And you’re ready. But I’ll never be so far away that I won’t know how you are.”

  “But I won’t know how you are.”

  “I’m well. I’m happy. I love you.”

  Jax opened his eyes with a small gasp. Silvery patches of moonlight lay across the foot of the bed. Though there was no more sensation of being awake than before, he knew he was awake, now.

  Corey. Corey was here. He had seen him and talked to him. Laughed with him. Called him a shit.

  Soft joy bubbled through him.

  Even after he let himself slide back to sleep a tiny smile smoothed the contours of his mouth.

  THIRTY

  Even when she knew they’d be cut down by the frost soon, Pickett always hated to pull up still-blooming plants. Nevertheless, while Jax and Tyler made a trip to Wal-Mart this morning, the job got her out of the too-silent house. Pickett blinked back the hot rush of tears. That they were leaving in two days had to be faced, but she wouldn’t cry until it actually happened. In the meantime this ever-rising desire to beg Jax not to go could be worked through—literally. Pickett loaded her little wagon with pansies and potting soil and trundled it creaking and squeaking to the urns of fading petunias flanking the steps.

  Steeling herself, she fumbled through the mass of flowers till she felt a stem and jerked up the plant, roots and all. The faint sweet-musty scent of the petunias was instantly overlaid by the dark loamy smell of the soil.

  She’d brought this heartache on herself. She’d thought she could interfere in Jax’s life and not get involved. She’d thought she’d be able to fall only a little in love with him. She thought knowing he was the kind of man she’d never marry would keep her heart safe. She laughed without humor. Sheesh, she’d thought when she met them that first time that Jax was arrogant! Pickett winced at her own hubris and tore another petunia from the soil, cringing at the feel of roots breaking.

  In the bright autumn sun the petunias she’d pulled up were already wilting. The same petunias Jax had insisted on saving before the hurricane.

  She’d known then the flowers would die, just as she’d known any relationship with Jax was doomed. What she and Jax had was an idyll, like summer annuals, bringing color and joy for a season, but incapable of standing the hardships and cold of winter.

  She couldn’t regret letting Jax and Tyler into her heart though. Any more than she could regret planting annuals, knowing they would have to be pulled up. Everything had its season but when it was over, it was over.

  With all the petunias piled on the wagon to be taken to the compost pile, Pickett hacked with her trowel at the mat of broken-off roots until she’d loosened the soil. She tapped a pansy from its tiny plastic pot.

  She would not replace him and Tyler as easily as she replaced these flowers. It would be a long time, maybe never, before anything grew in the empty space they would leave.

  Pickett pulled off one glove and blotted a tear with a fingertip before it could fall. She would not cry. For today, Jax and Tyler were still here. Surviving was a matter of taking one day at a time.

  Pickett felt better having worked everything out in her head. At least, she would feel better if only she knew how to ease the pain of her heart.

  She didn’t know what else to do, so she added some fresh soil, and planted the pansies.

  Lucy, stretched out in the grass beside the wagon, suddenly woke and sat up, ears at alert. Scrambling to her feet, she woke Patterson, who raised his head and uttered a woof of agreement. Hobo Joe, who had not been asleep, since he considered himself on duty any time Jax was absent, slowly turned to face the driveway, the white tip of his tail swinging with dignified restraint.

  Jax and Tyler would be here in a minute or two. Though it was possibly as much as a mile away, the dogs had picked up the sound of Jax’s car. How quickly their canine ears had learned to isolate his car from all the other traffic sounds.

  Pickett slipped the last of the pansies into place in the large urn and began adding fresh potting soil around them. She tamped them in then added water from the hose. The dogs barked in welcome as the Cherokee crunched the gravel and seashells of the driveway.

  “Whatcha doing, Pickett?” Tyler came flying to where Pickett knelt as soon as he was released from his car seat, while his father retrieved parcels from the cargo hatch. He flung himself into Pickett’s arms, almost tipping her over.

  “Easy, Tyler,” called Jax, “you know I’ve told you we have to be gentle with Pickett.” He ambled over to assist Pickett to her feet, then as she rose, pulled her closer. A tiny, tender smile lit his crystal gray eyes with their thick short lashes and played around the corners of his lips.

  “Hi, honey.” Jax dropped a kiss on her upturned lips. “I’m home.”

  He didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Pickett cautioned herself, though her good sense warred with the tiny spurt of joy at his soft words.

  Whenever Jax was around she battled futile hope. An outsider seeing him announce his homecoming and kiss her in the blue and gold of a perfect autumn day would believe they were a perfect family, when the truth was that they would never be a family at all.

  Pickett pushed the thought away. She had made her decision at the outset to be happy no matter how short their time together, and by golly, she would be.

  She wrestled the corners of her mouth into a smile that welcomed, she hoped, then pointed with a pink-gloved hand to the large bag he carried. “It looks like the shopping trip was successful.”

  Jax slanted her a glance filled with sardonic humor. “I’m alive, he’s alive.”

  Pickett chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

  “We did manage to get some jeans and a jacket, before we’d had all we could take, so he won’t have to wear your sweatshirt if it’s cool tonight. But I swear, if I let go of him for a minute, he’d disappear to the toy section. He said he’d never been in a Wal-Mart.”

  “Maybe he hasn’t. The clothes he’s been wearing didn’t come from a discount store, I can tell you that.” That made Pickett think of something that had been bothering her.

  “Jax, does Tyler ever talk about his mother to you? It worries me that he hardly talks about his mother or his life in Raleigh at all.”

  “Why? He looks happy.” Jax pointed to Tyler running around the yard chasing and being chased by dogs.

  Now wasn’t the moment to try to explain her concerns about all the upheavals in Tyler’s short life. Pickett began picking up the emptied flats and her trowels, and piling them on the wagon. Jax set his packages down on the steps and came back to help her.

  “Pickett.” Tyler came running up surrounded by panting dogs. “Is it time to go to the fireworks at the pier, yet?”

  “No, darling. We won’t do that until it’s dark. That won’t be for a long time.”


  “But we’re going today, right?”

  “Tonight.” Pickett could tell Tyler still wasn’t satisfied. “First we have to eat lunch. And then I have to go in to work for a while, and then I’ll come back and we’ll have supper, and then it will be dark and we’ll go. How’s that?”

  “Can’t we go before then?”

  “I can’t make it get dark, sweetie, and the fireworks won’t happen until it’s nighttime.”

  They watched Tyler race away again. Jax put a companionable arm around Pickett. “He’s only asked me that about five hundred times.”

  Pulling off her gardening gloves, she twined her arm around Jax’s waist. “He’s probably going to ask five hundred more times, so brace yourself.”

  She’s the one. The words from the dream reverberated again as they had all morning. While Jax didn’t believe in ghosts, he’d felt Corey’s presence too many times to doubt that in some way Corey still existed, if only as part of his subconscious. But last night, even though he knew it was a dream, Corey seemed so real. And this morning the joy of reuniting at last with someone he’d missed for so long remained. Best not to question the hows and whys. Jax had seen and talked with him. It was enough.

  Jax tightened his arm around Pickett, feeling the strength in the slender shoulders, feeling how she adjusted her stance to snuggle in closer. Strong, resilient, adaptable, able to see the humor in most situations, patient. And sexy? His body tightened with need at the thought. If ever there was a woman who could be the one, it was Pickett.

  Suddenly, between one heartbeat and the next, he knew. He trusted her with his life and with Tyler’s life. He wanted what they had together and he wanted it forever.

  He had no idea how she felt. She wanted him in her bed, and it was clear she had affection for him. But, heck, she treated everyone with affection. She hadn’t hinted that she wanted anything permanent, and most women would have by now.

  Jax’s cell phone beeped and he unclipped it from his belt with his free hand while keeping his arm around Pickett. He glanced at the caller ID.

  “Hey, Mancini. What’s up?”

  “Lauren’s lawyer just called me. She’s rejected your new proposal that she keep Tyler only when you’re deployed for long periods. She wants Tyler to live with her, permanently.”

  It should have been bad news. Instead, relief washed through Jax like a cool breeze clearing a stuffy room. Thank God. Until this feeling of relief flooded over him, Jax hadn’t known how much he did not want Tyler to live with his grandmother. Tyler was a different child—the child he should be—around Pickett and he loved Pickett as much Jax did. Nope, he wanted Pickett for Tyler, and for himself.

  “No way,” Jax said to Mancini. “No more visiting. Anytime I can be with Tyler, he’s going to be with me.”

  Jax’s eyes narrowed as a Pender County sheriff’s car turned into the drive. A woman emerged from the patrol car, her torso rendered shapeless by body armor under the tan uniform. She carried the sheaf of papers in her left hand—to keep her right hand free to go for her gun, he noted with absent approval.

  “I called to give you a head’s up,” Mancini was saying. “Lauren is going to let you tell it to the judge. She’s suing to get custody of Tyler. You’ll receive the complaint and summons shortly.”

  “Looks like it’s already happened,” Jax told Mancini. “The sheriff’s deputy is here with the papers now. I’ll call you back.”

  “Okay, Mancini. How bad is this?” The house was quiet. Pickett had gone to the base to see a client who had an emergency. She was going to drop Tyler off at his playgroup at the church, and pick him up on her way back.

  “Bad. She’s alleging that you can’t be a good custodial parent because of the demands of your job. She also alleges that you have had very little interest in Tyler before now, and that you don’t know the child well, or understand his needs.”

  The irony of the situation killed him. It wasn’t true that he hadn’t cared about Tyler before, but some of her arguments were the reasons he’d thought she should have custody in the first place. If it hadn’t been for Commander Kohn, he’d have turned Tyler over to Lauren, and let lawyers handle the paperwork. Now he’d be damned if that was going to happen.

  “I’m not going to give Tyler up. How do we fight this?”

  “The court is going to look at the best interests of the child, not what you or Lauren want. She doesn’t work. She can offer him a stable home, a home he’s always known. Even without child support, she can supply him material advantages.” Mancini’s deep voice measured the seriousness of his words. “She’s not asking for termination of parental rights so she doesn’t have to prove you’re an unfit parent, just that she’ll be a better custodian. You’ll still have the same visitation rights as before. And something else. She’s dropped the stipulation about living allowance.”

  “Hell, Mancini, what are you trying to say? You sound like you’re arguing her case.”

  “I’m going to give it to you straight, good buddy. As long as you’re a SEAL, in constant danger and with crazy hours, frequently forced to leave Tyler in someone else’s care, she’s probably going to win. And even if you’re awarded custody—” a snowball’s chance in hell, Mancini’s tone said—“the judge may make it contingent on resigning your commission.”

  “So my choices are give up Tyler or give up the SEALs? Hell no, to both.”

  “Well, there’s only one other possibility,” Mancini offered with a skeptical laugh. “You don’t, by any chance, know someone you want to marry, do you?”

  Jax’s heart suddenly felt too big for his chest. “As matter of fact, I do.”

  Mancini gasped on a sudden upsurge of hope. “If you were married you’d be giving Tyler everything Lauren can give him, plus a father. Is this for real?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking of asking Pickett to marry me. The woman we’ve been staying with.”

  “Then I’d say do it. Marry her as soon as you can.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Two hours later Pickett came into the office and flopped into a chair in a pretend swoon. “I finally convinced Tyler to at least fake a nap, if he wants to go to the fireworks.”

  Jax gave thanks for her inexhaustible flow of patience with Tyler, and felt the tension in his face ease. It was going to be okay. Corey was so right. Pickett was the one. She hadn’t changed out of the prissy slacks and blazer she’d put on to go to the base, but it didn’t seem to matter what she wore—the hum of desire was always there.

  She was going to think his decision was sudden, but when he looked back, he could see that this moment had been inevitable from the start. All he had to do was find the right words to ask her to marry him.

  Pickett rolled her eyes. “Tyler may stay down twenty minutes, so talk fast. What did Mancini say when you called him back?”

  “Lauren can sue me for custody, and as things stand now, she’ll probably win.” Jax raised a hand to prevent Pickett’s angry protest. “A judge would see that Tyler has spent a lot more time with her than me, and she can provide a more stable home.”

  Jax scrubbed at his hairline. “It won’t matter that I think she’s more than a little screwy, or that I believe she drinks too much to be trusted with a small child. She knows a lot of important people in Raleigh and they’ll give her glowing character references.”

  “So your only option is to leave the SEALs.” Jax didn’t know what to make of Pickett’s extremely neutral tone, but he was grateful for the perfect opening her incisive intelligence offered.

  “There’s another option. I could get married.” He waited for her to pick up on the implications with her usual speed. His heart began to thud as she studied him silently.

  “To whom?” she kept the same neutrality in her voice as before.

  “To you.”

  Pickett’s eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. She blinked slowly. Three times. He knew it was sudden, but she didn’t have to look like he just suggested the impossible. Th
e gentle reasoning, the coaxing he had planned, evaporated.

  “For god’s sake, what’s so hard about that? You love Tyler. I would always know he was safe with you. And we’re good together. Good? We’re great. And not just in bed. We’re a good team. Everything is better when I’m with you. Come on, Pickett, what do you say?”

  “But you don’t want to get married. You made it perfectly clear from the very first I wasn’t to have any expectations.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t have any. You’re not the kind of woman who has casual sex. The longer I’ve known you the more clear that has been.”

  “Not casual, no. But I never expected this to turn out to be real. It was like an interlude. I never thought someone like you would look at me. It was a fantasy come true.”

  “A fantasy. You went to bed with me to satisfy a fantasy?” Jax refused to ask himself why that hurt so much.

  “It seemed like too perfect an opportunity to pass up. Anyway, I needed some experience. The thought that I might be desirable to you was pretty heady stuff.”

  He was damned if he’d let her see how that made him feel. He narrowed his eyes. Made his voice scathing. “So you needed a stud to bolster your confidence? And who better than a SEAL? You’re no different from the groupies that hang around bars. I’m not even real to you.”

  “That is low. And unnecessary. And untrue.” Pickett fought back her ire. Both of them being angry wouldn’t help. Though he was too far away to touch, she reached out a hand. “And you are real to me. You were right the first time about me. I would never have gone to bed with you in the first place if I hadn’t liked you and respected and trusted you. I even knew I’d probably fall a little bit in love with you.” She didn’t try to disguise her wistfulness. “But as long as I knew you were leaving, soon, it was safe.”

  “Have you fallen in love with me?”

  “Yes. God help me. But I can’t marry you.”

  “Why the hell not?”

 

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