The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family)

by Altom, Laura Marie

  “I suppose...” Vivian sipped her coffee. “But hey, at least you finally admitted you have a thing for the guy.”

  “Do I?” A hot blush traveled all the way to her toes. Laughing, she admitted, “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, you know he’s at least going to be in town until the end of baseball season. What if you gave things a trial run and it turns out so great he asks you to return to Virginia Beach with him?”

  “Are you listening to yourself? We haven’t even kissed, and here you’ve got us marrying?”

  “I didn’t say anything about tying the knot,” Vivian said with a wicked wink. “For starters, you could just shack up.”

  * * *

  DURING SATURDAY’S MUD BUG GAME, from his position behind first base, Tristan had a perfect view of Brynn—not a good thing considering the calico sundress she’d worn fluttered in the light breeze, giving him teasing glimpses of her bare legs. She’d forced her unruly curls into flirty pigtails and her lips looked more full—had she changed her lip gloss? The fact that he’d even noticed such a thing was a bad sign.

  He needed to focus on Cayden, who was up to bat.

  Come on, bud. You can do it.

  “Strike one!” the ump called.

  “Hit it hard, baby!” Brynn called from the stands.

  The pitcher threw again and Cayden missed again.

  Tristan’s stomach couldn’t have been queasier than if he’d been at bat himself. Come on, bud. Remember all you’ve learned. I know you can do this.

  For his last pitch, Cayden’s hold on the bat was just right, as was his stance. Tristan also liked the boy’s fierce look of determination—reminded him of the old days, playing with Mack.

  “Foul ball!” the ump said of the next pitch.

  Tristan’s gaze strayed to Brynn. She held Mackenzie on her lap and had her fingers crossed.

  The pitcher wound up...

  “You can do it,” Tristan said under his breath.

  Cayden hit the ball, but it was too low and slow, resulting in an easy catch for the opposing team.

  “Out!” called the ump midway through Cayden’s run to first.

  “Good try,” Tristan told the scowling boy. “Next week, we’ll work on your strength and speed.”

  “Okay...”

  A glance in the stands showed Brynn was also disappointed. More than anything, Tristan wished for the power to make all three Langtoines smile.

  * * *

  MONDAY MORNING, BRYNN HAD BEEN at her new job for only a couple hours when Donna and Georgia appeared with Tristan in tow. Didn’t take a rocket scientist or a gardening expert to see the situation was yet another attempt to steer the two of them together.

  “Looks like Mackenzie’s hard at work.” Donna leaned over the portable playpen Lindsay had let Brynn set up. The baby rested on her back in dappled sun, staring intently at the fragrant honeysuckle vines dangling over her head.

  “That’s why she gets the big bucks,” Brynn teased.

  “I wonder if you could help me pick out a few azalea bushes,” Georgia asked. “I’m wanting to put them at the back of my new bed. By the pines. But I want red and all I can find are white.”

  “If you and Donna wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on Mac for a few minutes, I’m pretty sure I remember seeing some in one of the back houses.”

  “Perfect,” Donna said. “Tristan, you go with her. She shouldn’t be doing heavy lifting.”

  He shook his head, mumbling, “Obvious much?”

  “Go on,” Georgia urged Brynn. “And be sure you’re good and thorough. If Lindsay comes out, we’ll tell her you’re doing a great job.”

  “Sorry about that,” Tristan said as they made their way down a winding gravel trail. “Mom’s got it in her head we’re a couple.”

  “It’s okay.” Though Brynn knew she shouldn’t want to be in a relationship with Tristan, try telling that to her body. The path was narrow, meaning every few seconds her bare arms brushed against his. The day was already warm and occasional overspray from the sprinklers provided temporary relief.

  “Not really.” He held out his arm to stop her beneath an arbor heavily draped with wisteria. “Because truthfully, I can’t stop thinking about what it might be like if we were...you know, maybe more than friends. But that can’t happen, right?”

  “It can’t?” she dared ask. The confined space pressed their bodies perilously close. Close enough for her to smell morning coffee and maybe a trace of sweet cinnamon on his breath. More than anything, she wanted him to throw caution and worry to the wind and kiss her as if there was no tomorrow. Because in her experience with Mack, she’d discovered that in a heartbeat, all you knew could be ripped out from under you, resulting in emotional ruin. “Or, you won’t let it happen?”

  “Brynn...” His voice was raspy as he leaned in close enough that barely a leaf could’ve passed between them. “Lord, woman, you make me crazy.”

  “Likewise...”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  Heart pounding, she wondered if she’d ever met such a clueless man. Duh? What did he think she wanted him to do? Kiss me, you big, gorgeous oaf.

  * * *

  “GOT SOMETHING TO RUN BY YOU,” Tristan said to Jason as they put up equipment after Tuesday night’s practice.

  “Shoot.” He hefted the net bag holding the bases into the bed of his truck.

  “Not sure if you noticed, but Brynn Langtoine and I—”

  “Hold it right there. Hate to break it to you, man, but everyone in town’s noticed. We could get a betting pool going on when you’re finally going to make your move.”

  “That’s just it.” Tristan loaded the spare bats. “At the end of the season, I’m heading back to Virginia Beach. Why start something I can’t finish?”

  “Who says?”

  “My common sense.” Leaning against the side of the truck, Tristan tried explaining. “Let’s say we hook up. Then what?”

  “You’ll never know if you don’t at least ask her out.”

  “I did. We hit Scooter’s the night I got back from Cali, but it turned out to be an epic fail.”

  “Mind giving me a hand with this?” Jason nodded to the rolling cooler they kept filled with bottled water and Gatorade.

  “Sure.”

  With the cooler lifted in place, Jason asked, “What could go wrong over a nice steak?”

  “Essentially, me.” What am I even looking for? Last thing he wanted was for Brynn to feel as though she and her kids were just stand-ins for the family he’d lost.

  “What’d you do?”

  “That’s just it. Nothing.”

  Jason jingled his keys. “Man, hate to break it to you, but you’ve got issues. Brynn’s a great gal. If you’re even thinking of starting something with her, you need to be sure where you stand.”

  “Like marriage?” Tristan coughed. “Can’t. Already tried and failed.”

  Climbing in his truck, Jason said, “With an attitude like that, I see why....”

  * * *

  AFTER WORK FRIDAY, BRYNN AND Donna helped Georgia plant her new azaleas. Though the day was warm, thick cloud cover kept the temperature in the eighties as opposed to the usual nineties.

  Mackenzie lounged beneath pines on a nearby blanket while Cayden played at Dominic’s.

  They’d put in six of the dozen plants when Donna sat back on her heels, rubbing her left arm.

  “You okay?” Brynn asked.

  “Sure. I’ve just felt out of sorts all day.” She rubbed her chest. “Indigestion. Probably from the vegetables Tristan’s been pushing.”

  “Never have liked them,” Georgia said. “Especially not Brussels sprouts.” She blanched. “Just saying the name makes me nauseous.”

 
Brynn laughed. “Cayden feels the same.”

  The three women worked in companionable silence, finishing the planting, then fertilizing and spreading fragrant cypress mulch.

  “Y’all are a godsend,” Georgia said once they stood back to admire their work. “This would’ve taken me a week under my own steam.”

  With her arm around Georgia’s shoulders, Brynn gave her friend a warm squeeze. “You’d have done the same for us. But now that we’re done, how about some of your sweet tea?”

  “You got it.”

  Brynn lifted Mackenzie, swooping her high for a kiss. “You’re so pretty.”

  The baby cooed.

  With Mackenzie on her hip, Brynn shook pine needles from the blanket, then slung it over her free arm. Only then did she notice Donna slumped against one of the patio chairs.

  Running to her, she asked, “Donna? You okay?”

  She nodded, but it was obvious from her crooked stance that something was off.

  Taking her cell from her back pocket, Brynn found it dead.

  “Hang tight,” she said to Tristan’s mom. “I’m going to call 9-1-1 from Georgia’s house phone.”

  Donna shook her head. “I—I’m...” Before finishing her sentence, she’d crumpled to the ground.

  * * *

  TRISTAN PACED IN THE O.R. waiting area. Though his mom’s doctor assured him she’d had only a small blockage, he wouldn’t feel better until seeing her for himself.

  “She’ll be okay,” Brynn said. She’d been a lifeline for him all afternoon, helping him through not only his fear, but mountains of hospital paperwork. Georgia had stayed behind, volunteering to watch Mackenzie for as long as necessary. “You know your mom. She’s too stubborn to stay sick for long.”

  “You got that right.”

  Cayden sat small and quiet in an oversize chair, playing with his 3DS game. Of any of them, he’d had the toughest time with Donna’s hospitalization. According to Brynn, he and Dominic had been riding their bikes when the ambulance came.

  They’d watched as paramedics administered CPR.

  Brynn said he’d had a meltdown, remembering a similar scene with his dad, only with a more horrific ending.

  Tristan went to him now, acting on instinct when he lifted the boy into his arms for a hug. “Thanks, bud, for helping my mom get here safe.”

  The boy nodded, hiding his face in the crook of Tristan’s neck. “I was so afraid she was gonna die.”

  “I know. Me, too, but the doctor and your mom say she’s going to be much better soon.”

  “Promise?” Tristan hated like hell making that kind of promise to a kid who’d already lost so much, but for Cayden’s sake, and his own, he nodded.

  “Absolutely. By this time next week, she’ll be all better.”

  Brynn wrapped her arms around them both and in that moment, Tristan experienced a crystalline clarity as to what he needed to do. Brynn and her son and daughter had become like family to him. He’d be as lost without them as he would his mom, which was why he vowed from this moment on to put aside his fears for what the future might hold and instead, embrace the infinite possibilities.

  * * *

  “WOULD YOU ALL QUIT FUSSING over me,” Donna complained three days later while Tristan fluffed her pillows and Brynn placed a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup on her bedside table. “The doctor says I’m fit as a fiddle.”

  “Correction.” Her son perched on the edge of her bed. “You will be in four to six weeks. Until then, you need to take it easy and eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Your home care pamphlets say that’s normal.” Brynn tapped the papers that were also on the nightstand, though she hardly needed to look as she’d learned them by heart. “But try eating at least a little something to keep up your strength.”

  “If I eat will you all leave me in peace?”

  “Maybe.” Brynn clinked the spoon against the side of the cranky patient’s bowl.

  From the living room, Mackenzie cried.

  “Go ahead,” Tristan said. “I’ll take care of Mom.”

  Brynn jogged toward her crying child, only to stumble across an enchanting scene. Sticking to the hall’s shadows, she watched Cayden carefully take Mackenzie from her carrier.

  “Shh...” He gave her a light jiggle. “You have to be good so Mom can help Miss Donna feel better.”

  The baby cast a wide-eyed stare at her big brother, in the process, melting Brynn’s heart, giving her one more reason to be indebted to Tristan. Without him, sure, Cayden would’ve one day learned to love Mackenzie instead of resenting her, but it might’ve taken twice as long.

  “She likes you,” Brynn said to her son.

  “I guess.” When Mackenzie whimpered, he jiggled her more. “Tristan says I need to help you and I figured whenever she’s crying, she usually just wants someone to hold her.”

  “That’s very smart of you.”

  “Thanks.” His smile warmed her through and through.

  “Everything good in here?” Tristan asked.

  “Yeah.” Cayden sat on the sofa, holding his sister upright on his lap. “Mac just needs a lot of attention. I’m glad I’m not as spoiled as her.”

  Brynn and Tristan shared a laugh.

  * * *

  LATER THAT NIGHT, CAYDEN WAS having a sleepover with Dominic, and Brynn was feeding Mackenzie in his mother’s living room when Tristan asked from the hall, “Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure.” She repositioned the baby to her other breast, preserving her modesty with the infant’s blanket. Brynn’s beauty never failed to stir him. When she held her perfect daughter, the duo did him in.

  “Mom’s finally sleeping.” He eased into his father’s old armchair, rubbing his aching neck. “I swear, I’ve had friends with massive bullet wounds more cooperative than her.”

  Brynn laughed. “She’s for sure keeping us on our toes.”

  He looked at his hands, then her. “Again, I can’t thank you enough for your help.”

  “Then maybe we’re finally even for all you did for me when I still carried this one.”

  “Fair enough,” he said with a weary chuckle. Leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees, he sighed. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but wasn’t sure how.

  “What’s with the sigh? Still worried about your mom?”

  He shrugged. “Now that she’s out of the woods, I’m more bugged by you.”

  “Me?” Her eyebrows raised. “What’d I do?”

  “For starters, you have adorable hair and freckles.”

  She wrinkled her smallish, straight nose. “They’re awful. No matter how hard I try, I can’t cover them up.”

  “I would never want you to.”

  “Have you been drinking?” she asked with an indecipherable smile.

  “Not a drop—though a beer might help me sound a hell of a lot more eloquent.”

  “O-kay...” Mackenzie had fallen asleep. Brynn slipped her out from under her blanket and placed her in her carrier before buttoning her own blouse.

  His mouth had gone dry at the prospect of his upcoming admission. “Fourth of July is next week and this town does it up right. I know I said I didn’t think we should initiate anything romantic, but with Mom getting sick, I—” He looked down. “Well, I reassessed a lot of the bull I’ve been shoveling. Bottom line, I think the world of you and Cayden and whatever time I have left in town, I’d very much enjoy spending with you.Which leads me back to the Fourth. Want to be my official date?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brynn honestly wasn’t sure what to say. She’d like nothing more than to be Tristan’s date. But she was also a huge fan of self-preservation, and playing with him was akin to setting off fireworks in the
palm of her hand—dangerous where her heart was concerned.

  “So your answer’s no?” He’d hardened his jaw.

  “I didn’t say that. It’s complicated.” Mimicking his pose, she leaned forward, too. “I’m a single mom with two kids. Last thing I need is a one-night stand or just fooling around. For me, that boat sailed a long time ago. If we go out, I need to know you’re not just toying with me. That there’s at least a chance of you one day feeling more, which I know is a fairly ludicrous request when all you’re wanting is to attend a town picnic and parade.”

  “Actually,” he said, “I appreciate your honesty. And for what it’s worth, Brynn Langtoine, since the day I first saw you, you’ve fascinated me. No matter what, looking at you now, I can’t for the life of me imagine that fascination fading anytime soon.”

  * * *

  THE MORNING OF THE FOURTH brought rain, thunder, hail and high winds, but by the parade’s noon start time, the sky was a clear, perfect blue. The storm had left behind cooler temperatures and at least temporarily, the seemingly omnipresent Louisiana humidity was gone.

  Brynn took special care with her navy-and-white-plaid dress. She’d wanted to try straightening her hair, but her curls weren’t having it. In the end, she settled for a festive updo with plenty of trailing tendrils. While applying her makeup, she couldn’t help but smile at the notion of Tristan finding her freckles pretty. After adding white sandals, she chased down Cayden in his fort to make him change into the special edition holiday T-shirt all the local businesses had been selling. The proceeds would help build a new elementary school playground.

  “Aw, Mom,” Cayden complained when she even went so far as to make him wash his face and hands. “How come Mac doesn’t have to do all this work?”

  “Because she wasn’t silly enough to get dirty right before she knows Tristan’s coming.”

  “Oh.” Brynn followed him to the bathroom to supervise and brush his hair. Finished, he said, “Dom told me he heard his mom and dad talking about how Tristan told Coach Jason that you and Tristan are going on a date today. Is that true?”

  Suddenly flushed with anticipation, she nodded. “Not that it’s any of your beeswax.”