The SEAL's Second Chance Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  Tired from the busy morning, Effie was happy to find a sofa for her and Cassidy to relax on while a store clerk helped Mabel with her first selection. The store was straight out of a bridal fantasy with sumptuous white carpet, white upholstery, gauzy white draperies and chandeliers dripping with crystals.

  Pink potpourri filled crystal bowls and smelled like a blend of cotton candy and carnations.

  Cassidy pointed at the nearest dreamy light fixture and smiled.

  “Pretty, huh?” Clearly, her daughter already had great taste.

  “I don’t know about this...” Mabel left the dressing room wearing a full-length ivory gown with a train long enough to reach Denver. The intricate beading was gorgeous, though. “I feel lost in a sea of satin.”

  “At least it’s a gorgeous sea.”

  Mabel shook her head, taking one last glance in the three-way mirror before ducking back into the dressing room.

  The second dress was stunning. The sweetheart neckline was flattering without being too much, and the skirt was full and floor-length with no train. “Grandma, that’s gorgeous. Do you love it?”

  Mabel made a face. “The sleeves are a little too short. Shows my chicken-wing arms.”

  “Stop. You have beautiful arms.”

  Mabel waved off Effie’s compliment to duck back into the dressing room.

  The third dress was calf-length ivory satin with a pouf of a skirt lined with layer upon layer of tulle. The top was simple and elegant with a boat neck and three-quarter sleeves. The style looked vintage—like something Jackie O might have worn to a debutante ball.

  “Grandma, all I can say is, wow. You take my breath away.”

  “Thank you, hon. If I do say so myself, this one’s not half-bad.” She actually smiled at herself in the mirror while turning to view the gown from all angles.

  “It’s perfect. Formal without overwhelming your frame.”

  “I think so, too. Plus, the clerk told me she has bridesmaids’ dresses to match. Want to try one on? If you like it, we’ll get them for all the girls. We just need to pick a color.”

  “What about a variation of the burnt orange scheme you’ve got going? Maybe something like nutmeg?”

  “Could be pretty. Let me get changed, and then I’ll watch the baby while you find the right size.”

  “Deal.” Effie couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a fancy dress—probably her own meager wedding. Was it wrong if her first thought was what Marsh would think of her in it? She couldn’t wait to see him all dolled up in a tux.

  Once her grandmother emerged, the clerk measured Effie, then set her on a white velvet dressing room bench to wait for her to bring the less formal version of her grandmother’s gown.

  “Ta-da.” The twenty-something clerk delivered the dress with a flourish. It was pale pink and the sort of thing that was so girlie Effie doubted Marsh would even recognize her. “Ignore the color. We can have them dyed pretty much any shade you can imagine, plus get shoes to match. Oh—and we can also order different necklines and sleeves. Lots of times our maids of honor pick their favorite, and then the other ladies match you or choose their own. It’s all about everyone feeling special on the big day, but you’ll all have matching skirts. With your facial structure, you’d look hot in an off-the-shoulder number.”

  “You think so?” Effie eyed herself in the mirror. The square-neck version she currently wore was okay, but she still wasn’t sold.

  “I’ll grab one. Be right back.”

  “What’s going on in there?” her grandmother shouted. “Give us a show.”

  “Hold your horses. I’m waiting for a different model.”

  “I’m the bride and didn’t take this long,” Mabel complained.

  “Sorry.” The clerk returned, easing sideways into the room. “Someone hung it on the wrong rack.”

  “No worries.” Effie wriggled out of the first dress to shimmy into the second. The moment she saw herself, she knew it was the one.

  “Well?” Mabel asked.

  “I love it!” Effie emerged all smiles. “What do you think?”

  “Perfection.” Mabel clapped Cassidy’s chubby hands. “Isn’t your mama pretty?”

  “Arrrgggh!”

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Effie kissed her daughter’s cheek before turning back to the mirror. Would Marsh love it as much as she did? She hoped so.

  “You know,” Mabel said, “Wallace and I still wouldn’t be opposed to a double wedding. Just say the word and we’ll get you your own white gown.”

  “Grandma, stop. Marsh and I hardly know each other.” Just well enough for hugging, and hand-holding, and wanting to kiss in the worst way...

  “Back in my day, that didn’t matter. You grew into a relationship—kinda like breaking in a new pair of leather shoes. Takes years before they’re comfy.”

  Effie shook her head. “You’re a pistol. You know good and well what happened my last go-round with a cowboy. Why in the world would I want to put myself through all that again?”

  “Because Marsh is better than your no-account ex?”

  “True, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to marry him. We haven’t even kissed.” There went her blazing cheeks. Had she really blurted that out loud?

  “Which means you have at least thought about it?” Mabel laughed, then once again clapped Cassidy’s hands. “Hear that, baby girl? You might have a new daddy after all!”

  Ignoring her buttinski grandmother, Effie removed the dress, handing it to the clerk to finish the custom order.

  After an hour of trying on shoes and poring through color swatches, Effie and Mabel decided on a shade called pumpkin chiffon. It was like burned pumpkin, only lightened with plenty of whipped cream—talk of which was making her hungry.

  “Excited for your date?” Mabel asked once they’d gotten Cassidy buckled into her safety seat, then themselves settled in the new car.

  “It’s not a date. Marsh and I are sharing dinner.”

  “Uh-huh...” Mabel winked. “Bet you at least get that kiss you’ve been craving.”

  I hope so...

  * * *

  “NOW THAT WE’RE finally alone,” Effie asked Marsh once the steak house’s hostess deposited them in an intimate, high-walled booth. “Tell me the truth. How were my boys?”

  “Hold up.” Marsh grinned. “You get me all excited by telling me you have a question you can only ask when we’re alone, then it turns out to be about your kids—not that the twins aren’t great, but you know what I mean.” He clutched his chest.

  “Please accept my most heartfelt apology. I’m deliberately avoiding the serious questions.”

  “Such as?” He set his leather-bound menu aside to lean in. “Now you’ve really got me intrigued.”

  “Before you get too excited, I’m curious if Wallace puts you on the spot the way Mabel does me. She’s actually asked if the two of us had considered joining them for a double wedding. Can you imagine?”

  They both laughed, but the strange thing was—yes, he could all too clearly imagine a wonderful life with Effie. She was the kind of simple, hardworking woman he’d always dreamed of spending his life with. Even better, she already came with a perfect trio of kids. The only drawback? His own shortcomings not just as a man, but as a father. He’d already let down one woman. Who was to say he wouldn’t do it again—not by losing another child on his watch, but by somehow disappointing Effie enough for her to pack up her kids and leave him?

  Considering that line of thought was a tad heavy for a casual dinner between friends, Marsh kept the banter light for the rest of the meal. He shared stories of how Remington had beaten them all in go-kart racing, and then how Wallace had run over his best cowboy hat.

  Marsh talked about all the things that would steer him from real issue
s like did Effie ever feel she’d die from being lonely even when she was in a crowded room? Or did she ever wonder if her heart would feel full again? Men weren’t supposed to dwell on their feelings, so why couldn’t Marsh tamp all of them down enough that he could at least feel normal instead of like a shell of his former self?

  They finished eating by seven, so he suggested a walk along the Fountain Creek trail.

  The night was perfect. The temperature was just chilly enough to provide relief from the summer’s relentless heat, but not yet cold enough for hats and coats.

  Marsh knew he shouldn’t, but when his every gut instinct screamed for him to take Effie’s hand, he did. And suddenly the air smelled sweeter, the river’s gurgle sounded like a song and nothing else mattered but absorbing every last shred of peace from the moment—enough to see him through his next dark patch and maybe even beyond.

  “I have an odd question for you,” Effie said.

  “Shoot.”

  “Well...” She drew him onto a park bench. With both of his hands clasped in hers, she asked, “Is this a date? Or hanging out between friends?”

  “Does it matter?” Stupid question. Of course it mattered. But when it came to their individual situations, would a romantic date or friendship change their struggles?

  “I suppose not. But I’m just going to come right out and admit that all through dinner, I wanted to kiss you—and that’s wrong, right? Because neither one of us has any business getting mixed up in a messy relationship when—”

  He tilted closer, framing her face with his big hands. For the longest time, he searched her gaze for confirmation that this was what she wanted. Marsh held his breath, hanging in midair, unsure if it was safe to come in for a landing on her mouth that had taunted and teased for weeks.

  She licked her lips, and her pupils widened.

  Did he go for it?

  What if she’d changed her mind and pushed him away?

  Screw it. As a SEAL, he used to be all about calculated risks, and when it came to Effie, he needed to once and for all know if she harbored the same physical curiosities about him as he did her.

  He leaned in slow, getting used to the feel of her warm exhalations blending with his own.

  A low feminine groan escaped her and he was lost.

  He brushed his lips against hers, teasing, taunting, needing this first intimate contact to be a baseline test. He hadn’t kissed a woman since his ex, and he was pretty sure Effie was in the same boat.

  When he felt the vibration of her breathy mew, he threw caution to the night breeze. He slid his fingers under the fall of her long, lush hair, drawing her closer to increase the pressure of his lips against hers. After a back-and-forth volley of nips and moans and exploration, he parted her lips with his tongue, and she met him for an erotic sweep that made him feel in danger of exploding if he didn’t have more.

  She crawled onto his lap, onto his raging erection. She slid her hand up his shirt, running her palm along his pecs and surprisingly sensitive nipples.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Shh...” He’d started this, but somehow she’d become the aggressor. “Let’s find a hotel.”

  “Eff...” He pushed her back. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. No. Maybe?” She giggled. “All I do know is that my body is craving way more of you than I’m able to get on this bench. I don’t want to think about tomorrow, or even later tonight. All I want is to exist in the here and now, for once. If you’re on board, let’s grab a bottle of wine and a pack of condoms and find a hotel. No strings attached. No implied commitments. Just a night of feeding mutual urges that once they’re no longer between us, will make us both more clearheaded and better able to realistically see we’re both just a little pent up.”

  “Pent up?” He winked, then shifted to make room for his erection. “I was going to say horny, but for the sake of argument, we’ll keep it clean.”

  She rolled her eyes, grinned, then kissed him again.

  They found condoms at a convenience store and made out on the truck seat until the windows fogged. They found wine at a liquor store, made out in a shadowy corner filled with dusty bottles of closeout specials. Then Marsh practically careened the truck beneath a Marriott’s portico. “Hang tight. I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry.” She blew him a kiss.

  In under ten minutes, he was back to the truck—only Effie and his wheels were gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  In regard to the night’s wild turn of events, Effie could only plead temporary insanity. If and when she’d even planned on reviving her nonexistent sex life, she sure hadn’t imagined it happening in a hotel—even a fairly nice one.

  In the shopping center across the street, she spotted a Pier 1, so she slid behind the wheel of Marsh’s truck and hijacked it for the brief trip in search of instant ambience.

  She found a dozen gorgeous candles and even a fire starter. A few silk throws might be nice to cover lampshades, and spicy potpourri and elaborately beaded and tasseled throw pillows in dusky shades were just the right finishing touches.

  The bill totaled more than she spent on a week’s groceries, but the more she thought about what she was headed back to the hotel to do, the more nervous she grew—so much so that her hand nearly shook too hard to sign the credit card slip.

  Back behind the wheel, she realized she’d left her cell in the truck. Marsh had called thirteen times. Oops. Guess she should have given him a heads-up that she was leaving.

  Nerves swirled like a twister through her tummy.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea?

  Her cell rang again, but traffic was heavy and for the remainder of the short trip, she focused on driving. And trying to remember what had possessed her to even be in her current situation.

  Marsh’s wicked-handsome smile flashed through her mind. More flashes of his ass in Wranglers and the way his biceps bulged when carrying a saddle turned her heartbeat chaotic. There was no denying he was a beautiful man. But she was a single mom with no business getting tangled up in a game of bedroom bingo for a couple of hours when she should be home with her kids!

  She pulled the powerful vehicle to the hotel’s front entry to find Marsh pacing.

  He stormed to the passenger side door and yanked it open. “Where the hell have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone? I was worried sick you got carjacked.”

  “I’m fine. I needed to pick up a few things, and I guess it took longer than planned.”

  “That’s fine, but...” He pressed his hand over his heart. “Next time you vanish without a trace, would you mind giving me a heads-up?”

  “Sure, but then it wouldn’t really be vanishing, would it?” She couldn’t help but giggle. His intensity was touching—and sexy.

  He whipped off his hat and slapped it against the seat. “Hell’s bells, Effie, I was scared for you. It’s not funny.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  “What did you have to get that was so all-fired important it couldn’t have waited till I got the room?”

  “Stuff, okay? Climb in, and I’ll park.”

  Though the lot was full, she was lucky enough to grab a prime spot when a couple in a Jeep Wrangler pulled out. She turned off the lights and engine, unfastened her seat belt and then wasn’t sure what to do with her suddenly flighty hands.

  “Pier 1?” Marsh inspected the bag on the bench seat between them. “I thought you grabbed a toothbrush or something.” Upon opening the bag, he made a not-entirely-happy groaning sound. “Candles? You gave me a freaking heart attack for candles? And scarf thingies?” He pulled out the spicy-scented scarves with the beaded trim. “What in the world are these for?”

  “To put over the lamps. You know—for mood lighting. I thought it might be nice.�
�� A knot loomed at the back of her throat. “It’s been a while since I... Candles make everything more special.”

  “Aw, hell...” He set the bag on the floor, then slid one of his hands behind her back and his other beneath her thighs to ease her in his direction. Once his hands were free, he cupped her face, rendering her incapable of drawing her next breath when he brushed the pads of his thumbs over her quivering lower lip. “Woman, don’t you know you’re all the special I need?”

  He kissed her nice and slow and suddenly everything between them felt fresh and new. Their previous physical explorations had been beyond amazing, but somehow lacked substance. Here, now, desire pooled between her legs and she wanted all of him—needed all of him—more than air.

  His breath spilled warm and sweet smelling and familiar against her upper lip, and then he was kissing her again and she was falling far deeper than she’d ever planned to go.

  Somehow, they made it out of the truck and into their room.

  He leaned her against the closed door and kissed her more while unbuttoning her dress and sliding the straps over her shoulders. Though the room was warm and stuffy, the brush of the backs of his fingers against her collarbone caused her to shiver.

  “Cold?”

  She shook her head before working on removing his shirt.

  The room smelled fresh and new and the people next door had their TV turned up too loud. It didn’t matter. The event unfolding was primal and a little raw and too far gone to stop. The bag with Effie’s candles had long since landed with a crinkle and thud to the floor, along with her dress and Marsh’s shirt.

  He hefted her into his arms for a quick trip to the bed.

  The comforter was downy and white and the parking lot lights spilled through parted drapes, illuminating Marsh as he tossed his hat to the sofa, then braced his arms on either side of her for not just a kiss, but a glorious Technicolor dream.

  She fumbled with unlatching his belt buckle and then his fly.

  It was no secret he was as turned on as she was, and she gripped him, giving him a squeeze.

  “Damn...” He arched his head back and groaned.