A SEAL's Honor

by JM Stewart

  He wasn’t slow or tender, either. No, he began a punishing rhythm, his hips pistoning into her, driving up into her hard. Every thrust shoved her ass into the wall behind her. Her breasts bounced, making her taut nipples rub his chest. God, it was bliss.

  Mandy locked her legs around his hips and gave back with equal force. Their bodies came together with a ferocity that left her breathless, and every merciless thrust sent her careening toward oblivion. She welcomed it. In what could only have been a few dozen strokes, he struck that delicious match deep inside. Her orgasm burst through her, a luscious shower of hot sparks that left her shaking and moaning.

  Marcus dropped his forehead onto her shoulder with a low groan. He thrust deep once, twice, and began to tremble as his own orgasm claimed him.

  When the spasms finally ended, Mandy wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck.

  “You promised me a month.”

  Marcus’s words came muffled from the vicinity of her throat.

  Mandy tightened her grip on his shoulders, inhaled and filled her lungs. He deserved better, but she couldn’t look at him when she said the words or the expression in his eyes would break her. She’d never get the words out. “I’m sorry. I know I did. But I can’t do this with you anymore, Marcus. I just can’t.”

  He attempted to pull back enough to meet her gaze. When she wouldn’t release him, he growled in frustration. “Damn it, Mandy. Look at me.”

  She gave in and finally lifted her head. One look at his eyes, though, and she could no longer hold back the tears.

  His jaw set in determination. “Why? You owe me that much.”

  “Please. Let me go.” When she pushed against his chest, Marcus set her on her feet. She took a moment to straighten her skirt.

  Marcus pulled up his jeans but didn’t bother buttoning them. Instead, he gripped her chin in his palm, forcing her gaze back to his. His brow furrowed, but she didn’t miss the panic in his searching eyes. Nor the way his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. “Stop stalling, damn it, and tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “I like her. Do you know your grandmother offered to teach me to cook? We chatted in the kitchen while I helped her with the dessert and coffee. She told me that the chicken and dumplings she made was one of your favorites, and I made an offhanded comment about how I couldn’t cook to save my life.” All the fight drained out of her. She dropped her hands to her sides, her shoulders heavy. “I can’t look that wonderful woman in the face and lie to her. It’s killing me.”

  He shook his head, his gaze searching her face for a long moment. Finally, he dragged a hand through his hair and stepped back. “That’s what this is? We’re not exactly lying to her. More like…stretching the truth. We are seeing each other. And after last week, that’s exactly what this is. Short-lived, maybe, but—”

  “I failed my end of the bargain.” Her heart hammered in her ears, but the truth stared her in the face. She owed it to him to be completely honest with him. She blew out a defeated breath, her voice lowering with the vulnerability rising over her. “I swore I could do this, but I didn’t count on actually getting to know you. I just expected it to be really great sex, but…”

  She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor, the rest of her words trailing off into the unbearable silence hanging over them.

  This time, he didn’t touch her, but ducked down to look into her face. “But what, angel?”

  That word, that single term, nearly broke her. Her chest tightened until she thought it would crack wide open. She swallowed hard and forced herself to hold his gaze, but one look into those intense, beautiful eyes and the words came tumbling out, unstoppable.

  “I’m in love with you, and I can’t pretend I want just your friendship anymore. All tonight did was prove to me that I don’t. I want more. I want it all. I want every Sunday with your grandmother, and I want to spend every night wrapped in your arms, from now until the foreseeable future. I want you to call me your girlfriend and be proud of it, and God help me, I want you to be able to tell me you love me, too, someday.”

  By the time she finished, her chest was heaving, her breaths coming in short, ragged pants. All she could do was wait for the fallout.

  Marcus’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. Finally, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Angel…”

  Mandy held up a hand. “Don’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t say it. It wasn’t intentional, wasn’t something I set out to do. I just sort of ended up here. And I can’t spend the next three weeks pretending this isn’t killing me, or spending time with your grandmother and pretending I wouldn’t kill to be a part of that. A real part. She’s a wonderful person, you know, and when I told her I’d love to spend more time with her, I meant it. Which was what made me decide I couldn’t do this anymore. Ironic, right?”

  She let out a quiet laugh, the sound stark and grave. Her gaze went unfocused for a moment before she fixed it on him again.

  “I’ll just go.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She didn’t want to hear it. If he uttered the words moving behind his eyes, if he told her—again—that he couldn’t, or God forbid, that he didn’t love her, too, it would crush her.

  So she opened the door and forced herself to move outside to where her car was parked beside his in the driveway. As she climbed behind the wheel, the unbearable silence settled over her and a twinge of pain tightened her chest.

  If this was the right thing to do, why did it feel so awful?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marcus glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he cinched the noose around his neck. It had taken him three tries to get the knot in this godforsaken tie even semi straight. All because he couldn’t stop thinking about the funeral in two hours.

  Somehow, he had to get through it alone. He might have convinced himself he was fine if it weren’t for this damn suit. God, he hated these things. The black color reminded him of the masquerade on the Fourth of July. His first official date with Mandy.

  He missed her. Goddammit. Missed her smile and her flirtatious laugh, when her eyes filled with mischief. When she knew damn well she’d cornered him and looked at him like a cat toying with a mouse.

  He missed her body in bed beside him the most. Sleeping wrapped in her warm, soft curves, with that fluffy hair of hers in his face. Sad part was, he hadn’t even realized he’d enjoyed it until it wasn’t there anymore. Until she wasn’t there anymore. Her absence had left a void in his life.

  Today’s funeral reminded him too much of the day they’d buried Ava. Four and a half years might have passed, but it felt like only yesterday. And he could use a bit of whatever the hell it was about Mandy that calmed him. Because he could deny it all he wanted, but she did. She’d righted his world.

  Today of all days he needed her. Hell, it was a selfish thing to even think. Today wasn’t about him. Except he understood, in a very personal way, what Jason’s wife would be feeling, the denial as you stood beside a grave some part of you insisted you shouldn’t be standing at for decades to come, the utter refusal to believe you’d never see your loved one again, and the desperate hope that you’d wake up to find it all a horrible dream. Then the slowly sinking realization that it wasn’t.

  He gave up on a perfect knot, sighed, and glanced down at his feet. Cammie had followed him in here, curled up and gone to sleep with her head resting against his bare toes. He bent and gently scooped her into the crook of his arm. “Come on, girl. Let’s go see Gram.”

  She lifted her head, blinking sleepily at him.

  He scratched behind her right ear. At least he wouldn’t be completely alone today. “You miss Mandy, too, don’t you girl?”

  She licked his chin. One week and somehow, Mandy had managed to insert herself into his life. Even Cammie seemed to notice the absence. Every night when he came home, she’d come running to the door, and every night, she’d lo
ok past him, as if expecting someone else. The disappointment on her little face was palpable. She’d done the same thing for months after Ava died. Anybody who said dogs couldn’t speak clearly wasn’t paying attention.

  “Yeah.” He smoothed a hand over her soft head. “Me too.”

  The question now was, what the hell did he want to do about it? He’d been pondering that question since the door closed behind her.

  With a sigh, he tucked Cam in one arm and headed for the front door, pocketed his keys, and headed out to his car.

  Ten minutes later, he pulled into Gram’s driveway. The knot in his gut tightened as he got Cammie out of the car. He still hadn’t told Gram about Mandy. He wasn’t looking forward to disappointing her.

  He barely stepped up onto the porch when the front door opened. Gram scanned him from head to toe, worry wrinkling her brow. Two seconds later, she took him by the arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. Little creases formed around her mouth as she reached up, undoing the knot in his tie. “You’ve been tying these since you were twelve.”

  So she was starting with idle chitchat. That only meant one thing: a fishing expedition.

  He rolled his eyes. She’d probably cuff him for it, but he wasn’t in the mood today. “You were never very good at subtle, Gram. Whatever it is, just ask. I had a long night last night.”

  That strong blue gaze flicked to his. She studied him for a moment before dropping his tie and planting her hands on her hips. “All right, Mr. Grumpy. I’m worried about you. Today especially. And how come Mandy isn’t here? I thought for sure she’d be going with you.”

  His stomach sank and Marcus dragged a hand through his hair. Crap. He should’ve known she’d ask that. There was no use lying to her, either. He owed her the truth, but he’d hoped they wouldn’t have to have this conversation until after the funeral. Apparently, he wasn’t so lucky.

  He dropped his hand, stuffing both in his pockets with a heavy sigh. “Mandy and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

  Her stern expression fell from her face, to be replaced by exactly what he’d hoped not to see: more concern. She laid a hand against his chest. “I’m sorry, honey. How come?”

  He averted his gaze to the right, idly watching as Cam burrowed beneath the blanket Gram always kept on the couch. Better than having to watch Gram’s eyes when he spilled the story.

  “Mandy and I were temporary.” Heat flooded his face. Christ. What a thing to have to tell her. He might as well have told her he’d gotten arrested for having sex in public. A glance at her found her frowning in disapproval, too. Time to move on with this conversation. “I brought her over for dinner because I thought…hell, I thought it would make you happy.”

  If she was angry that he’d lied to her, he couldn’t say he blamed her. It didn’t help that her gaze scanned him again. Moments later, her expression softened. She picked up the ends of his tie and began to re-form the knot.

  “You being happy makes me happy, sweetheart. I knew I sensed tension between you two on Sunday.” She cinched the knot tight, straightened his tie, then patted his chest and turned to walk away. “Come on. I’ll make coffee and you can tell me what happened. Then we’ll see if we can fix this.”

  He watched her head in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m not sure it can be fixed, Gram.”

  God knew he wanted to fix it, though.

  She waved a hand behind her as she disappeared around the corner. “Everything can be fixed, sweetheart. You taught me that.”

  Yeah. If only it were as simple as fixing the gears on her clock.

  With a reluctant sigh, he followed. When he entered the kitchen, she was standing in front of the coffeemaker, the top already open. Marcus leaned back against the opposite counter. Regret tightened his chest. “I don’t know about this one. She wants something I’m not sure I can give her.”

  In the middle of filling the brew basket with fresh coffee grounds, Gram paused and looked back at him. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

  He forced himself to meet her gaze, because what he needed right now was a dose of that calm guidance she was so good at. “A future.”

  He still had no idea if he’d be any damn good at a relationship. Shouldn’t he want more for Mandy than that?

  Gram studied him. Several moments ticked out in silence that only further tightened the knot in his gut. She pursed her lips, telling him she had a lot on her mind. So, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited. She’d tell him eventually.

  Finally, she shook her head slowly. “Son, I’m going to tell you something I’ve been dying to tell you for years. Up until now, I’ve kept quiet, hoping you’d find your own way.”

  If that wasn’t Gram in a nutshell. Bossy but doing it from the right place. He pulled his hands from his pockets and folded his arms, trying his best to get rid of his smile. “Since when have you ever held back saying what was on your mind?”

  “Oh, hush.” She waved a hand at him, but her eyes glinted with amusement as she stepped toward him. She laid a hand against his chest, head tipped back to peer up into his face. “Your mother was my daughter, and I loved her very much, but you know what? Her leaving you and Ava was her loss. Keeping people at a distance has only accomplished one thing. It made you a lonely soul. You want to know why I bug you about finding someone? That’s it. Because it’s written all over you, and it worries me. You’ve been afraid of being left since she dropped you here that morning thirty years ago. It’s time to let it go.”

  She gave a firm nod and returned to the coffeemaker, filling it with water.

  The question caught on his tongue as he watched her. He swallowed hard and forced himself to voice it, because if he didn’t ask, he’d never know. “But how do I know I’ll even be any good at this? I’ve been alone my whole life. Hell. Look where I come from. I don’t want to hurt her. Or disappoint her.”

  Gram shot a glance over her shoulder, that quiet worry etching her gaze.

  “You are what you choose to be, sweetheart.” She turned back to the counter, pulling ceramic mugs from the cabinet. “It takes two things to make a relationship work. Love and desire. And I don’t mean passion. I mean the desire to make it work. Relationships aren’t easy. You love her, don’t you? That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’ve finally fallen and you don’t know what to do with yourself. I could see it in you Sunday night, the way you looked at her…”

  Gram continued to ramble, but Marcus could only stand there and stare. Her quiet statement had lodged in his brain, setting his heart hammering. Son of a bitch. Did he love her?

  Yet barely a breath later, the truth settled over him. It didn’t come at all the way he’d always envisioned it, either. It wasn’t an earth-shattering moment that made him break out in a cold sweat. Rather, it came as a quiet acceptance that blossomed in his chest, warm and right.

  He let out a huff of a laugh and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I do.”

  Gram’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning, though to her credit, she pressed her lips together in a not-so-subtle attempt to hide her smile. “Good. Now go tell her that.”

  She didn’t give him time to respond, but grabbed his arm again, tugging him all the way to the front door. She let go of him long enough to pull it open, then pushed him out onto the porch.

  “Stop by the florist around the corner. Bring her a rose. Just one.” Brow furrowed, she held up a finger. “Red. It’s classic, and it’s sweet. Then talk to her. Show her what you show me, that soft heart I know is in there. Go. Trust me.”

  She waved her hands at him, shooing him, and shut the door in his face.

  * * *

  Standing in the middle of the crowd gathered at the cemetery an hour later, Marcus stared at the coffin, his vision unfocused. It was an oddly beautiful day. A little chilly, but the sky was clear and blue and dotted with puffy white clouds. Despite the forecasters call for rain, the sun beat down on the back o
f his neck, warming his skin.

  Several dozen people surrounded the grave, all of them dressed in black. Some were family members. Most were fellow vets who’d come to pay their respects. As Marcus listened to the pastor’s prayer, memories bombarded him. A similar funeral four years ago. Standing in the same basic spot the widow now stood in—beside an open grave, staring at a casket he kept praying was empty.

  He turned his head, seeking out the widow. He didn’t know her, had only met her a handful of times, but he understood what she was going through. She held herself well, all things considered. She wasn’t a sobbing mess, but standing tall, with her shoulders pulled back. Had she moved beyond the shock and denial? Or had the realization kicked in? That this was real. That’s when the life-altering grief would start. She’d have to go on, missing the one person who was supposed to always be there.

  Not much had changed for him. He was still as alone today as he’d been four years ago. And as he watched the widow struggle to keep herself composed, one thought rose above the rest. He was tired of being alone. Tired of being that lone tree in the forest still standing. He wanted…shelter. Someone to have his back, to curl around at the end of every day.

  Since Mandy ended their…hell. Relationship? Friendship? He didn’t know what to call it. He only knew he missed her. After Ava’s death, after spending his life watching people leave, he’d shut out the world. Hell. He’d shut down. Put his head down and focused on work. On getting through.

  He’d thought he was doing all right until Mandy sauntered her way into his world. Now nights were god-awful lonely. And he couldn’t deny it anymore. He wanted her. All of her.

  Was Gram right? If he showed up at Mandy’s apartment, would she even see him? Would she let him in? He certainly wouldn’t, so why the hell should he expect her to? He’d let her leave.

  The pastor concluded the prayer, and the crowd around him began to disperse. The widow stepped up to the casket, laid a white rose on top, bent to kiss the shiny wooden surface, then turned and walked away from the grave site.