The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family)

by Altom, Laura Marie

  Tristan cleared his throat. “How about we all get out of here and give Brynn her space.”

  “Sure you can handle everything on your own?” Georgia asked, giving the new mom a warm hug.

  “I’ll be great, thanks. Really—to all of you, I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

  “Aw, it’s been our pleasure.” Donna was next in line for a hug. “Like Georgia said, if you need the slightest little thing, give me a call.”

  The two older women’s sincerity caused tears of gratitude to well in Brynn’s eyes. Vivian’s words, Tristan suspected, drew emotion from a deeper, more cynical well.

  With everyone on their way save for Tristan, she said, “Who knew SEALs were also verbal warriors? Kudos for a masterful job of sending Vivian on her way.”

  “She definitely falls under the category of With friends like her, who needs enemies?”

  Brynn chuckled. “I want to believe she means well—look at all she did for Mac’s homecoming. But does she even listen to the words leaving her mouth?”

  “Sometimes I wonder.”

  From over the baby monitor came a fitful cry.

  Brynn shook her head. “And so it begins.”

  “While you take care of that cutie, I’m going to switch the safety seat to your car. Where are your keys?”

  “On the rack by the back door.”

  Completing his task, it occurred to Tristan just how much he’d miss Brynn and Cayden and little Mackenzie if they did return to St. Louis. Which didn’t make much sense, considering it was high time he returned to his Virginia Beach base. He’d had his shot at family life and it’d been an epic fail. Now that Brynn at least had her memories of Mack restored to their former glory, she knew what it was like to lead an idyllic marriage. Tristan wasn’t sure he’d ever known.

  * * *

  IT’D BEEN A WEEK SINCE Mackenzie’s birth and Brynn felt physically stronger every day. Her emotions, however, were an entirely different story. Cayden’s behavior was as gloomy as ever, and late night feedings were taking a toll. Those issues aside, she had a lot to be thankful for. Mackenzie’s overall demeanor was sunny and once Cayden trudged onto his school bus each morning, Brynn settled the baby on a blanket beneath a gnarled-branch pin oak while tending the garden. Oftentimes Georgia would stop by for a chat, and Brynn had started very much enjoying the older woman’s company.

  Brynn now sat in the ballpark stands, heart racing as Cayden stepped up to bat. Even though the game was only for practice, she still battled nerves. He might currently be upset with her, refusing to believe she loved him every bit as much as his baby sister, but that hadn’t affected her love for him one iota.

  “What do you think of your brother?” Brynn asked Mackenzie, who sat staring wide-eyed in her carrier at her surroundings. “He looks handsome in his practice uniform, huh?”

  Brynn looked forward to the time when her daughter not only smiled, but held at least a monosyllable conversation.

  The night was pleasant. A light breeze kept away bugs. The scents of fresh-popped corn and hot dogs made Brynn’s stomach growl. She asked her daughter, “Do you have a taste for salty, sweet or both?”

  “I’m going for both,” Tristan teased, “but what category do nachos fall under?”

  “Hey, you.” Seated on the end of the stands, away from the other parents, Brynn hadn’t expected to see Tristan except for out on the field. “Why aren’t you performing your coaching duties?”

  “Oh—” his laugh warmed her through and through “—never fear. I’ll be back to work soon. Just on my way to Jason’s truck to grab a few more bats. Saw you and this beauty sitting over here alone and wanted to say hello. I’ve missed you Langtoines.”

  “We’ve missed you, too.” And she had. As busy as Mackenzie had kept her, Brynn craved grown-up conversation.

  “If you’re up for company tomorrow night, think Cayden’s ready for more batting lessons?”

  “I’m sure he’d love it,” she gushed—only not so much out of excitement for her son, but herself. Something about Tristan made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in a very long time. A thought that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

  “Great. I’ll see you guys tomorrow night. Six?”

  “Yes. Great.” Brynn prayed her voice didn’t give away the fact that she felt like a teen facing her new crush. “Want to stay for dinner?”

  “No,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “But I appreciate the offer.”

  That once giddy tingle in her stomach? Firmly put in its place by reality. Tristan was no more interested in her than she should be interested in him. And really, what did she have to offer other than a wagonload of baggage? Considering he had the same, honestly, even if she was in the market for a new beau, there was nowhere for their relationship to go.

  * * *

  “HOW WAS PRACTICE?”

  Tristan walked in the back door to find his mother demolishing a bag of Oreos. “Aw, Mom, what’re you doing? You’ve been awesome at your diet.”

  “I know.” She handed him the bag. “But in my defense, it was your ex that drove me to them.”

  After tossing the bag in the trash, he asked, “What’d Andrea do?”

  “She called about an hour ago—I guess she was returning your call? Anyway, I asked to talk to Jack and she told me he was in the pool and she didn’t want him tracking water through the house.”

  “Sorry.” He enfolded her in a loose hug, kissing the top of her head. “The reason I called her was to see when Jack’s out of school. I want to see him. Wanna go?”

  “You know it.”

  He left her to rummage in the fridge. Finding shaved turkey, he asked, “Want me to make you a grinder?” His official SEAL knickname was Grinder, given to him by his friends when after BUD/S training, he’d downed a good half dozen of the Italian sandwiches in an hour. “I’ll hide veggies on it so well you won’t even know they’re there.”

  Sighing, she sat at the oak table. “I suppose. Do I get lots of ranch dressing on it, too?”

  She might be his mom, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t shoot her a dirty look. “Since I want you with me for at least a hundred more years—no.” He blew her a kiss.

  “Was Brynn at Cayden’s practice?”

  “Sure was.” Arms laden with lettuce, peppers and a cuke, he said, “Little Mackenzie was with her, too. Man, what a pretty baby. She could be one of those kid models.”

  “Is Cayden adjusting any better to having a sister?”

  “Not even a little bit.” He spread mustard on a whole wheat roll. “I know it’s not my place to step in, but I feel compelled to do something—at least out of respect for Mack.”

  “Hmm.” Flipping through a stack of gardening and craft catalogs, his mom shook her head. “Ask me, what that boy needs is a father who’ll give him a firm hand.”

  “Mom...” He set her sandwich in front of her before starting on a couple of his own.

  “What? I’m only saying what everyone else in town is thinking. Cayden needs a father and you need a son.”

  “With all due respect, Mom, know what you need?”

  She sweetly smiled. “More Oreos?”

  “To mind your own business.” Brynn had lost the love of her life to murder. The last thing she or her kids needed was for some guy who thrived in deadly combat to enter their lives.

  * * *

  BY MID-JUNE, MACKENZIE was growing like a weed and Brynn felt almost back to her usual energetic self. Cayden was still less than enthusiastic about his sister, but at least with school out for the summer, he’d given the constant glaring a rest.

  Tristan came over most every night, helping Cayden with his hitting, and the work was paying off. In the Mud Bug’s first game, Cayden had made it to first base. Unfortun
ately, the inning ended before he had the chance to score, but he was still pretty pumped. For the precious few smiles Brynn had seen on her son lately, she owed all of them to Tristan. She’d invited him to share their evening meal more times than she could count, but always, he had a ready-made excuse.

  She’d just finished up that night’s dishes and stood at the kitchen sink, watching out the window as her boy caught throw after throw. Tristan was so kind and patient with him. It pained Brynn to think how much his own son was missing by not having Tristan in his life. Sure, they’d soon share a visit, but visits weren’t the same as sharing in a child’s everyday existence.

  With Mackenzie snoozing in her crib, Brynn carried the baby monitor outside, applauding Cayden’s latest catch. “You’re getting so good!”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “When you guys are done,” Brynn offered, “if you’re hungry, I brought homemade cookies from today’s garden club meeting. Georgia made them and they’re not only fancy, but delicious.”

  “Sounds good.” Tristan didn’t let up with the action. To Cayden, he said, “Okay, bud, I want you to go farther out, that way you’ll be able to catch any ball, anywhere on the field.”

  “Okay!” Cayden ran far past his fort.

  Brynn tried focusing strictly on her son, but Tristan’s shoulders and back as he wound up his pitches were a sight to behold. Then there was the sun-kissed strip of his neck just above his T-shirt collar. In full daydream mode, she wondered what it’d be like to step up behind him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her hands to his chest, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to the tantalizing bit of exposed skin. She could only imagine his intoxicating smell—sun and sweat and that extra, manly something that never failed to raise her pulse a few notches.

  What are you doing? her conscience demanded.

  For the rest of Tristan and Cayden’s practice, Brynn’s attention was solely on her son. But then Dominic rode up on his bike to play hide-and-seek in the fading light, leaving Brynn on her own with a man who she was almost ashamed to admit fascinated her.

  “He’s doing great.” Tristan sauntered in her direction, setting her pulse racing all over again. As good as he looked from behind, his front view was that much better.

  “I’m glad. Thanks again for your help.”

  He shrugged. “Got anything to drink?”

  “Sure. What’s your pleasure?”

  “I’d love a beer,” he said with a slow, sexy grin, “but I’m guessing since you’re breastfeeding Mac, that’s the one thing you probably don’t have?”

  Cheeks superheated, she nodded. “We do have apple juice, milk, fruit punch and that old standby, water.”

  He laughed. “Water will do—and some of those cookies.”

  “You got it.”

  He offered to help, but she directed him to one of the patio chairs. Upon her return she sat beside him, accompanied by sounds of the boys’ laughter, the neighbor’s sprinkler and plenty of singing crickets.

  “You weren’t kidding,” he said after finishing his first cookie. “Georgia makes a mean gingersnap—loving the cream cheese icing.”

  “Told you.”

  After more strained silence, Brynn summoned the courage to blurt, “Did I do something to offend you? We used to talk a lot—and I liked that. Now you’re here all the time, but I feel like you avoid me like the plague.”

  Setting his sweating glass of ice water to the patio table, he sighed. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Making plans to visit Jack?”

  “And other things.” They used to share such an easy camaraderie. What changed? Why did it matter?

  “You’ve done so much for my small family. Is there anything we can do for you?”

  On his feet, he paced. “It’s no secret this town is brimming with matchmakers. I miss talking with you, too. But the last thing I want is for you—or your nosy neighbor—to get the wrong idea.”

  “Is that all?” She bit her lip not to laugh. “Are you afraid of ruining my reputation or the other way around?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Sure. Vivian never fails to remind me how spectacular a male specimen you are...” The moment the words left her mouth, Brynn felt her cheeks heat.

  As if he knew exactly how good his body was, he looked away and chuckled.

  “Regardless, aside from Georgia and your mom, you’re the first real friend I’ve made in this town and I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” But he was. Sooner than she’d like, he’d return to his Virginia Beach base. Then where would she be? Save for her children, once again alone. Which is what she thought she’d wanted. Now she wasn’t sure. Raising one child on her own was tough enough. Two? Most nights she all but collapsed into bed, only to wake a few hours later to feed Mackenzie. But was surrendering herself to a man once again truly the answer? Besides which, Tristan had never even shown so much as an interest in kissing her, so why had these crazy thoughts taken hold now?

  “Mom?” Cayden shouted from the fort.

  “What, sweetie?” Tristan’s gaze never left hers.

  “Can I spend the night at Dom’s? He called his mom on his cell and she says it’s okay.”

  “Crazy, isn’t it?” Tristan said. “Kids his age having their own phones.”

  “Mom? Can I go?”

  “Sure, but be home early. Mackenzie has a doctor’s appointment in the morning.” Why, when her son and his best friend took off laughing down the block, was she suddenly jubilant, too?

  “I should get going.” Tristan gathered his glass and the napkin his cookies had been on.

  “No.” She took the items from him, in the process, grazing her fingers against his. The electricity was as undeniable as it was unwanted and unbelievably pleasurable.

  “No?” Eyebrows raised, he blasted her again with his sexy-slow grin.

  “Stay. Let’s watch a movie or load Mackenzie into her stroller and take a walk.” I just don’t want to be alone.

  “Sure.” He hadn’t budged and neither had she. The continued contact shimmered through her in delicious waves. “Although you do know when I’m not back at my mother’s by eight, rumors are going to fly?”

  She laughed. “Trust me, I’ve faced worse.”

  “That you have.” Had she imagined it, or did he deliberately brush his thumb against hers? In the process, igniting cravings for more tantalizing complications than Brynn was equipped to handle.

  Chapter Ten

  What’re you doing, man?

  Tristan followed Brynn into the house, telling himself he wasn’t checking out her new and improved behind. While she may have lost her baby bump, she’d kept the best of her curves. For all the denying he’d done regarding his attraction for Brynn, he struggled with the truth that had he met her under different circumstances, he might’ve made a play for her affections. But he’d had his shot at the whole family thing and blown it. She deserved more than he’d ever be able to give.

  “Hungry for more than cookies?” she asked, looking far too pretty in faded cutoffs and a pink tank that accentuated full breasts. With her hair in braids, she looked fresh from his every naughty farm-girl fantasy.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I really should get going.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, voice raspy with what he could only guess was the same confusion dogging him. “You used to be the only person I could talk to—about anything. But ever since I had Mackenzie, you’ve been distant.”

  “Sorry.” He drew out a chair at the kitchen table, turning it backward to sit astride, resting his arms on the railed top. “Truth is, with the baby, I feel awkward being around you. Like you’re some kind of saint someone like me has no business being around.”

  “Y
ou’re kidding, right?” Hands over her face, she shook her head.

  “Hear me out. I’m getting antsy to get back on base. Meanwhile, you’re getting more firmly entrenched here in Ruin Bayou. The two of us...” He shrugged.

  “We can’t be friends? Because that’s all I’m asking for.”

  He cocked his head. “Really?”

  Everything about her flirty stance, from her full, pouty lips to her heightened color, told him she was a woman amenable to being kissed. Lord help him, but Tristan was up for the job. But Brynn was hardly the one-night-stand kind of girl he dallied with back in Virginia Beach. They knew up front he was only interested in fun and were okay with it. He suspected Brynn, on the other hand, didn’t have a clue what she genuinely wanted—especially in regard to him.

  “Of course.” Hands on her hips, she snapped, “What? You think I asked you in for a booty call?”

  “No.” Yes. Was he so rusty with the fairer sex that he’d totally misread her?

  From over the baby monitor, Mackenzie cried.

  Brynn said, “Be right back.”

  “I’ll come with.”

  “Suit yourself.” Miffed? Although why she’d be upset with him, he wouldn’t know.

  In the nursery, sweet reminiscences did him in. At this age, didn’t matter if the child was a boy or girl, visceral memories raised an instant knot in his throat. The scents of pink lotion and powder and baby shampoo. His time with Jack had been so fleeting, he’d cherished every bath and even diaper changes.

  “What’s up, pumpkin?” Lifting her baby from the crib and into her arms, Brynn’s voice had grown intoxicatingly soft. “Hungry?”

  Tristan found Brynn and the infant mesmerizing, especially so when Brynn settled into a rocker, tossing a fuzzy pink blanket over her shoulder to provide modesty while feeding Mackenzie.

  He used to love watching Andrea feed Jack. When he’d been home, he’d stayed up with her late at night. Sometimes watching TV, sometimes quietly talking. Had Brynn shared the same memories with Mack? For reasons Tristan couldn’t fathom, he didn’t want to know.