Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5)

by Natasza Waters

  “What smells so damn good?” Thane’s voice rang out.

  Oh shit. Marg cast a look at Karen.

  “Glad you’re home, boys. We have a visitor,” Patrick’s mother replied.

  “Hey, mom how are—” Patrick saw her and stopped dead. “Marg.”

  She kept her butt tucked against the cupboards. “Hi, Patrick. I, uh, just dropped by to say hi to your mom and see how she was doing.”

  Patrick’s gaze fell on Thane with an accusatory glare as if he’d divulged some secret military intelligence.

  “I thought I’d make us some dinner. I just finished a shoot and…” She was babbling. Everyone in the room knew it.

  The front door opened and closed with a bang. “What the fuck,” a man said, and bulldozed his way through Thane and Patrick standing in the doorway. “Smells good for a change in here.”

  Marg set her eyes on Patrick’s father. He swayed a little and ogled her. Patrick’s handsome features may have come from this man, but it was hard to tell with a beer belly and ruddy skin. She could smell the alcohol clear across the kitchen.

  “Where’d you come from? Fucking gorgeous babe.”

  “Hi, I’m a friend of Karen’s,” she said.

  “My wife’s got no friends. She sits in this house all day, dying.”

  Marg’s eyes flew open with his crass comment. Thane and Patrick turned to look at his father, but he was too drunk to realize they both wanted to kill him. Mr. Cobbs staggered to the table and sat down.

  “You one of Pat’s bitches?”

  Marg’s jaw wanted to drop open with his crudeness, but instead, she turned her back to him and transferred the chicken to a cookie sheet and shoved it in the oven.

  “I’m fucking hungry.”

  Karen finally spoke up. “Why don’t you get a nap, honey? We’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

  Mr. Cobbs stood up, the chair toppling over, and staggered out of the room. No one spoke until a door shut with a loud thud.

  “It’ll be another forty-five minutes,” Marg said, peeling the last potato and then dropping it in the boiling water.

  “I’ll go grab some beer,” Thane said. “Do you want some wine, Marg?” It seemed the only people talking were her and Thane.

  “No, thanks...” Her voice trailed off as Patrick walked across the kitchen toward her. He stopped at the fridge and opened it. Saw it packed to the gills and closed the door. She hadn’t moved. Actually, she was afraid to move.

  With one step, he was behind her. Only inches away, she smelled him. He’d showered at the base before coming home. With a gentle grip, he turned her then his gaze searched her face. What was he looking for?

  “Thane, if you give me a hand, I’d like to take a little drive,” Karen said.

  Thane helped her stand and wrapped a strong arm around Karen’s waist and left Marg alone with Patrick.

  “I’ll just finish this up and leave,” Marg whispered, mostly because she couldn’t think with Patrick so close and maybe angry.

  “Someone ask you to leave?”

  His voice rumbled, working its way deep inside her. It had been a week since she’d seen him, but it felt like a year. She took every inch of him in. The evening shadow on his rigid jaw, his eyes a brilliant silver, the lock of dark hair across his forehead. The cusp of his upper lip a temptation.

  “Patrick, I’m sorry if I made you mad, but I wanted to break this stalemate.” She shivered, but she wasn’t cold. A warm caress like a hand had swirled around her neck, but it wasn’t attached to Patrick.

  Patrick’s lips pressed against hers. Warm and possessive. While swimming through the fog in her head, his hands threaded through her hair and pressed her closer, his mouth ravaging hers. It was the kiss she’d always wanted from him. The one that said he trusted her.

  The spit of water on a hot element broke the spell, and she quickly lifted the lid off the pot of potatoes. He took it from her hand and placed it beside the stove. With one gentle heave, he sat her on the counter and wrapped his warm, rough hands around her neck.

  “You are more beautiful than any girl should be,” he said, his mouth grazing hers. “And you don’t belong here.”

  “You don’t want me here?” Her heart sank.

  “Marg, my father’s a drunk. We’re poor. There’s nothing here you could want.”

  “Your mother is a nice woman, and she needs help. I don’t want anything except to get to know her a little better. She’s nice. She’s your mom and she’s so sick, Patrick. How can I help?”

  A wistful smile danced across his lips. “Thank you, but you can’t.”

  Her mind still spun from his kiss. “I should finish dinner.”

  “Hey, take her to a hotel if you’re going to fuck her, but throw me a beer first,” his father said from the doorway.

  “There isn’t any,” Patrick said, turning to face his father. “Go back to bed.”

  “Nice piece of ass, son. Think she’d be into your old man?”

  Marg not only saw but felt the wave of anger that exploded from Patrick. She gripped his arm to stop him from doing something stupid. “Thanks for the compliment, Mr. Cobbs. Have a good sleep.”

  He rambled from the room, bumped into a chair and rounded the corner out of sight.

  “I’m sorry, Marg.”

  She shrugged. “No big deal. I did buy beer. Do you want one?”

  “No, I don’t.” Patrick’s arm curled around her waist. “I missed you.” He drew her closer. Close enough to feel the hardness in his jeans and her mind splintered again. “I should have known you wouldn’t listen to me and stay away. Now you’ve seen it all. All—that I don’t have.”

  She gently pushed him back and jumped off the counter to stir the vegetables. “I don’t care.”

  “Would it help to admit I’m happy you’re here?”

  She swallowed and darted a look over her shoulder. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. I don’t know how I kept my concentration on my SQT’s. Every spare second, I thought about you.” His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts as he kissed her neck, owning her mouth and her tongue, promising more.

  Patrick pulled away when the front door opened. The short jaunt had tuckered Karen, and Thane carefully eased her onto the couch in the living room.

  “Mom,” Patrick said, quickly going to her side.

  “It’s okay, son,” she said, her eyes closing.

  Patrick sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. Thane nodded and joined Marg in the kitchen.

  Marg watched, her heart reeling for Patrick. “Should we take her to the hospital?” she said quietly.

  Thane leaned into her. “They don’t have medical coverage, and the hospitals she can go to are so full, she’d end up waiting for hours in a hallway. She’s more comfortable here.”

  “Is she in pain?”

  “I think so, but she doesn’t want to worry Pat.”

  Marg snagged her purse. Excusing herself, she went to the bathroom and plucked her cell from her purse. “Grams, I need help,” she said as soon as her Grandmother answered.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  Marg gave her the abbreviated version.

  “Let me call someone and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  She opened the door and Patrick was there. “You okay?”

  “Of course. I just had to go to the bathroom.”

  “You better help my idiot friend out there. He’s trying to cook, and he’s gonna burn everything.” Patrick sat on the couch next to his mom, and held her hand.

  She laughed. A few steps later her phone rang. “Hi, Grams.”

  “Dr. Lithgard is an old friend. He’s an oncologist at the Mayo Clinic. He can see Patrick’s mother tomorrow at two o’clock.”

  “Oh, my God. Thank you, Grams.”

  “I’ll meet you there. I’d like to meet Mrs. Cobbs.”

  “I want you to meet her, too.”

  Patrick watched h
er as she walked into the living room and sat on the coffee table. “Karen, could I pick you up tomorrow morning? About ten. I’d like you to see someone.”

  Dark circles around Karen’s eyes and her flat, pale skin aged her appearance. One that should still be vibrant. “I don’t think I have the energy to do that, Marg.”

  “He’s a friend of my Grams, and he’s willing to see you. He works at the Mayo Clinic in Los Angeles. He specializes in cancer.”

  Marg wasn’t prepared for the tears that filled Karen eyes. “Marg, you didn’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t want to see you suffer. I think he can help you.” Marg looked up smelling something. “Thane, are you burning my dinner?”

  “Trying not to,” he yelled out from the kitchen.

  “Excuse me.” She ran into the kitchen with Patrick on her tail and took over from Thane. She turned down the heat on the vegetables—they weren’t a total loss—pulled the chicken out of the oven and set it on the table, along with the potatoes and greens.

  From behind, Patrick’s arms embraced her and he held her close to his body. His low voice whispered against her ear. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I thank God for you.”

  That night, Patrick followed her home, but didn’t come in. “We have tomorrow off before we commence our S.E.R.E. training. Do you mind if I come along with Mom?” he asked as she unlocked the front door of the complex.

  “Of course not. It’ll probably help her feel more comfortable.”

  “Do you really think this doctor can help her?”

  “I hope so. He’s the best, according to Grams. I want your mom to be there the day you graduate.”

  Patrick never showed much emotion, but he was overcome and turned away. Staring at the fountain, he said, “I can’t think of a single person who has given me so much, but never spent a dime. You’re beautiful. Caring. Honest. For some crazy fucking reason, you see something in me, I don’t think I understand yet.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her, and in the fluorescent light, she saw the tear running down his carved cheek. She swallowed heavily, words she didn’t know if she should say teetering on her lips.

  Slowly, he turned and gazed deeply into her eyes. “As much as I wage war in my own head debating whether I’m going to ruin your life, I can’t stop myself from falling in love with you, Margaret.”

  A squeak worked its way up her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut and then flew into his arms, stuffing her face into the crook of his neck. “Would it be alright if I loved you, too?”

  His grip tightened around her body and he lifted her off the ground. “Against all odds, we’re going to make it, Marg. Together, we’re going make it. I’m gonna be a United States Navy SEAL, if I survive my S.E.R.E training and you…” His gaze coursed across her face. “You’re going to be a supermodel. I can’t wait for the day when I’ll see you on the cover of a magazine.”

  With ease, he slid her down his body and their foreheads touched. “You’re my forever and ever, Marg.”

  She kissed him gently. “Amen.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marg parked the car in front of the tiny house on the east side of Old Town. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she spotted Lydia standing on the sidewalk and the silly redhead, Darcy, who had proclaimed herself Thane’s girlfriend again, talked animatedly beside her. This should be interesting, Marg thought getting out of the car. She didn’t believe in psychics or ghosts. She waited for a BMW to pass, and then scooted across the road.

  Patrick and the team were up at Warner Springs trying to survive the last portion of their SQT’s called S.E.R.E: Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape. While Patrick didn’t divulge much, Lydia explained it was incredibly harsh, and they would probably lose more men from the team. Marg wasn’t worried. Patrick would pass.

  Lydia hugged her like an old friend when she stepped onto the sidewalk. “Marg, glad you could come. I made reservations for four of us.”

  “Who’s the fourth she asked?” nodding at Darcy.

  “Mary Lordson. There she is.” Lydia waved at a Volkswagen Bug parking behind Marg’s car. “She’s a really nice gal. She’s engaged to Lee Pascal. He’s a lieutenant on Alpha squad.”

  Marg watched the tall blonde cross the street wearing a huge smile. “The same team as Red?”

  Lydia nodded.

  Mary reached them and tucked her clutch purse under her arm. “Hey, ladies, thanks for inviting me. I haven’t seen a psychic in years.”

  “I’ve never seen one,” Marg admitted.

  “Mary, I’d like you to meet Marg Stines.”

  Mary gave her a friendly smile.

  “And I’m dating Thane Austen,” Darcy the dreamer, piped up.

  Mary tilted her head. “Really! I think Lee pointed him out to me last week when we went for a drink. He’s hot, girlfriend, good for you.”

  Darcy beamed. “I can’t wait to get my reading from the Madam. I hope she tells me when Thane and I are going to get married. That man drives me crazy. He keeps telling me he doesn’t want to settle down, but I know he’s just playing hard to get.”

  Marg and Lydia shared a look, and then offered Darcy a you-go-girl smile.

  “Is it time?” Mary asked, twirling on her heel. With a hand on the bannister, she paused with one foot on the step. “This house looks psycho vs psychic doesn’t it?”

  The two-story turn of the century home with gingerbread shakes and a white washed wraparound deck had historical appeal. The second floor was smaller than the first and two large windows looked over the walkway leading up to the front door. It had seen better days, but with a talented hand renovating its bones, it could stand out like the other homes on the street. Marg liked the thought of preserving anything old. Especially a house like this. She followed the women up to the front door.

  Lydia knocked and gave the girls a nervous smile. The door opened with a creak and a moan, the old wood swollen from the moisture in the air. She didn’t know what to expect. Madam Lizzy didn’t place an image of herself in the ad Lydia had come across in the newspaper. When a woman in her thirties with a pretty face and auburn hair appeared, Marg was kind of shocked. She thought for sure a twisted-up old crow with a black flowing gown and a kerchief around her head would greet them at the door. Lizzy had beautiful green eyes, not saggy brows and a crooked finger.

  “Good afternoon. Come in, please. I’m Lizzy,” she said sporting a smile.

  “Hi, Madam Lizzy. Nice to meet you. I’m Lydia, this is Marg, Mary and Darcy.”

  “Please, I use Madam for the marketing. It’s just Lizzy.” She shook each of their hands.

  Although the outside of the house was a little tarnished the inside was polished with beautiful period pieces and a massive Aubusson rug adorning the reclaimed wood floors in the living room.

  “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ve put out coffee and tea and something to nibble on. I’ll take you one at a time. Who would like to go first?”

  “Oh me. I’d love to go first,” Darcy said with a little hop to her toes.

  “All right, follow me. We’re going to get away from the other ladies energy so we can talk.” Darcy’s shoulders hitched with excitement before following Lizzy to another room.

  “I need a coffee that’s for sure,” Mary said, roaming into the living room. “This place is amazing.” Filling a cup, she hovered the pot over the other mugs. “Interested?”

  Marg nodded as did Lydia.

  Marg added some milk to hers and sat down in a high back chair. The photographs on the wall were from old town San Diego, maybe early 1900’s. “What a beautiful place.”

  “I wonder if it’s haunted?” Mary mused, walking slowly around the room, checking out the pictures.

  “Probably. I think most old places have a ghost or two hanging around.” Lydia grinned.

  “You don’t believe in ghosts do you, Lydia?” Marg asked.

  “My mom said my grandmother came to visit just after she died.”
Lydia sat next to Marg and settled her cup on the table inlaid with small stones. “She told me it was to say good bye.” Lydia nestled back in the chair and let out a big sigh. “My mom and grandmother were close. When there’s a tight connection between two people, nothing can keep them apart.” Lydia shrugged. “You don’t believe in ghosts?”

  “I don’t think so. Never seen one.”

  Mary took a seat across from them. “Not sure I could handle seeing a ghoul in the middle of the night.”

  “What do you think Lizzy does? I mean, does she talk to spirits or read cards?” Marg asked becoming curious. Marg devoured books as a hobby. She loved all the genres, but especially mysteries. Stephen King was one of her favorite authors along with so many others. Around Halloween, she piled her bedside table up with paranormal tales. When Christmas rolled around, she had romance novels with couples kissing and red ribbons gracing the covers.

  “She’s a medium. Apparently her spirit guides help her bring us messages from the other side,” Lydia told them.

  Mary broke into a huge grin. “I wonder if Dylan will come through,” Mary said looking poignantly at Lydia.

  Lydia’s brows quirked together. “Maybe. That would be nice.”

  Marg remained silent. She didn’t know who Dylan was.

  Lydia crossed her legs and turned to Marg. “Dylan is Mary’s brother. He died four years ago.”

  “I’m sorry, was it an accident?” Marg asked.

  Mary shook her head. “No, he was a SEAL. Team three. He and my fiancé, Graham, were best friends,” Mary offered, and twined her fingers together.

  Marg swallowed uncomfortably. “Are you scared?”

  Mary glanced at Lydia and then at her. “About Dylan visiting or are you talking about being involved with a SEAL?”

  Marg nibbled on her lip. “You’re engaged to a SEAL and you lost your brother. Do you have doubts?”

  “Worried—yes. That’s a job of a team wife. Graham is very good at what he does though. He’s been a SEAL for ten years. Before my brother was killed, Graham came to the house a lot. I had this crazy crush on him, but he treated me like Dylan’s little, bratty sister. It wasn’t until Dylan died, and I was having a hard time without him, that Graham admitted to me that he’d always been attracted to me. We started seeing each other as friends. Of course he’d disappear all the time on a mission, but when he was home he’d visit me.” She shrugged. “Eventually, we went from friends to lovers.” Mary’s pale skin blushed. “When you’re in love, you try not to think about it. Right, Lydia?”