Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset

by Sharon Hamilton

  She went to the dresser, tossed the wet towel in the hamper next to it and reached for her brush. She brought it with her to the bed and, sitting on the edge, ran the bristles through her hair, her movements sluggish with exhaustion.

  Her glorious mass of hair had a life of its own. Even wet, it lay in heavy waves down her back and across her shoulders. Would chemotherapy strip her luxuriant symbol of vitality away and kill it while it killed the cancer?

  How would she deal with it? How would he?

  A new wave of anxiety struck him. He needed to hold her. “Come to bed, Selena. Lucia will be back up before you have time to close your eyes.”

  She set aside the brush and lay upon the cover, but turned her back to him.

  Fuck that. Never in their married life had there been any kind of emotional distance between them. Even when a bit of resentment lingered following an argument, they reached for each other. He wasn’t letting this take hold. Not now. He looped an arm around her waist and tugged her back against him to spoon.

  A tense silence stretched between them, until she guided his hand beneath her robe and held it cupped around her bare breast. Relief flooded him, and he drew his first full breath since she’d said the C word. Her skin was silky smooth, warm, inviting beneath his palm. She had beautiful breasts, full, round, more than his hand could hold, but not so much she looked out of proportion. Instead of sex, his thoughts turned to the way Selena had nestled Lucia against her and offered the baby her nipple for the first time. Selena’s face had literally glowed with love and purpose while Lucia latched on and nursed.

  Selena turned, her shoulder pushed against his chest and her tear-glazed eyes, bruised with pain, raised to his. “I’m scared, Oliver,” she whispered.

  Though her tone was soft, it might as well have been a shout. He could protect her from terrorists and other bad things in the world, but he couldn’t do a damn thing to shield her from this. The raw emotion on her face, her tear-filled eyes, intensified his helplessness. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. “I am, too, tesoro.” His fingers lingered around her breast in a soothing caress. “We need to stay calm until we know what we’re dealing with. Then we’ll decide on a plan. And if it is breast cancer…well, the docs cure it every day.” Didn’t they? “It’s going to be okay.”

  It had to be.

  He would not accept any other outcome.

  *

  Selena woke with a start, her heart racing. What happened? Had she heard something? Had she forgotten something?

  The house lay quiet around her. The bedside clock read 11:35, its ticking as loud as the rhythmic hammer of drumsticks beating time.

  Fear surged over her, bringing with it the reason behind her roiling gut and panicky heartbeat. It was as if her survival mode was stuck in first gear, already at full throttle every time her eyes opened. She wanted to run, but where? Where could she go and not hear a constant replay of the words, “I think we need to do a biopsy.”

  Silence closed in around her, making her thoughts too strident to bear. She rolled off the bed and shuffled down the hall to Lucia’s room. Her daughter’s yellow comforter with purple butterflies was smoothed over the bed, and the stuffed lamb she slept with lay propped against the pillows. The clothes basket, usually filled with clean clothes waiting to be folded, sat empty.

  Selena wandered on to the living room. The toys Lucia kept scattered around the room had been tossed into the wooden box behind the sofa, and the room was straightened.

  She needed a cup of coffee and some aspirin to offset the hungover feeling from sleeping too long. The kitchen looked as clean as the other rooms, and even the few dirty dishes left in the sink earlier had been washed and left to dry in the drainer.

  Though she should have been grateful Oliver had worked so hard to clean up the messes left behind by an active toddler, she wasn’t. She had hours to fill and nothing to fill them with. Nothing to keep her mind off of the lump in her breast. She clenched her hand at her side to keep from touching the spot, now tender from being examined, stuck by a needle and probed by her own compulsive fingertips. Every time she touched it she prayed it would be gone. It had to be some awful mistake.

  She set up the coffee pot and, finding a bottle of aspirin in the kitchen cabinet, took two. She sat down at the table and noticed the note propped against the small ceramic pot kept on the windowsill over the sink. They used it to store small odds and ends—paperclips, pencils, rubber bands, screws—anything which might be a choking hazard for a busy, curious, two-and-a-half-year-old girl.

  Selena wandered over and retrieved the note. Oliver’s square, masculine script said, Don’t cook. Lucia and I have gone out to get a late lunch. Be back in thirty minutes. The time on the note was 11:15.

  She’d spent fifteen minutes walking through the house and making coffee. She needed to get dressed. She would not allow herself to lie around in a depressed funk. She wouldn’t allow Oliver to see her like this…or Lucia. She had to get on with the business of living.

  Everyone died. What counted was was how you spent the time you had.

  Oliver faced death every time he went into battle. He’d done it again and again every time he’d been downrange in the six years he’d been a SEAL. She could at least face this small lump in her breast with as much courage as he faced his duty.

  She shoved her fingers though her tangled hair and squeezed her throbbing temples. Telling herself these things and living them were two different things.

  But she had to do this. She had no other choice.

  Bringing the cup of coffee to fortify her, Selena went into the bathroom. She grimaced at her reflection. Her hair was a wild snarl and her face puffy from sleep. She ran a cool basin of water and bathed her face, tamed her hair by pulling it back into a ponytail, brushed her teeth, and put on a light smattering of makeup.

  By the time she heard a car pull up outside, she was dressed in white capris, a top with tiny flowers printed on it and slip-on tennis shoes. She met Oliver at the door with a smile and held it open for him.

  Oliver brushed a kiss against her cheek as he shouldered past her with bags of Chinese food in both hands. “Lucia’s right behind me. Her fever’s down, the drops are working and I think the antibiotic has kicked in.”

  Lucia climbed the two steps up on the small porch by clinging to the railing. She greeted Selena with, “I want eggroll.”

  “I hope daddy got eggroll.” Selena stepped out on the porch to help her up the last step into the house.

  “Daddy got six eggrolls,” Oliver said from the kitchen.

  Lucia laughed. “You’re funny Daddy.”

  Just hearing her speak in a sentence instead of the daddy-daddy-daddy mantra she’d done at the hospital was a relief.

  By the time she had lifted Lucia onto her booster seat at the table, Oliver had placed an egg roll, fried rice and some sweet and sour chicken, chopped in small pieces, on a plastic plate. He set it in front of Lucia, and she dug in with her spoon.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked as they sat down at the table together.

  “Yes. I got some sleep and I’m better.”

  She turned to brush a dark curl back behind Lucia’s ear to keep her from getting food in it. “I noticed how you and daddy cleaned up the living room and your room. You both did a good job.”

  “Toys go in the box.”

  “Yes, you’re right. When you’re not playing with them, toys go in the box.”

  Lucia nodded adamantly. She gripped her egg roll in a tiny fist and gnawed on one end.

  “I’m always surprised she likes cabbage,” Oliver said.

  “She’ll actually eat anything you or I do. And I’m glad to see her appetite’s back. She’s been a little finicky the last few days. I should have realized something was brewing.”

  Oliver paused, his fork midway to his mouth. “Selena—you’re already a super mom. To catch every nuance, you’d have to be psychic.”

  She nodded. Hearing him
say it did help a little. Silence fell between them and she concentrated on her food.

  “When will we know?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow or the next day.”

  He nodded. “After we eat, let’s go for a drive. We can stop somewhere for dinner.”

  “Okay.” She understood his need for action. If you kept on the move, time passed more quickly. For the last two weeks, she’d been in a state of hyperactivity, rushing from one thing to the next.

  She was relieved to have a task to complete. She packed a tote bag for Lucia, storing the medicine in a small cooling bag, then added extra clothes, wipes, drinks, snacks, and toys. Once they were in the car with Lucia secured in her car seat in the back, Oliver pointed the van north.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Laguna Beach. I thought we’d walk the beach. Maybe go to the museum if it’s still open when we’re through.”

  “We can eat at Las Brisas next door,” she suggested. “We haven’t been in a long time.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Silence lingered. Oliver rolled down the windows so the breeze blew through, bringing with it the rush of the wind and scent of the sea. Traffic was light, but the drive to Laguna would take anywhere between two and three hours, depending on the traffic. By midway Lucia grew restless, so Oliver pulled over at Oceanside and they all got out to stretch their legs.

  The breeze off the water was chilly, so Selena bundled Lucia into the sweater and hat she’d packed earlier. They walked down the long stretch of concrete sidewalk, both of them holding Lucia by a hand while Oliver pushed the empty umbrella stroller.

  They reached the pier, and Selena experienced a twinge while she strapped Lucia into the stroller. She was a petite child, in the bottom twenty-five percent for height and weight, understandable since neither of her parents were big people. But she had almost outgrown the small, portable stroller. Her baby had become a toddler overnight. Where had the time gone? She wanted to roll it all back and relive every moment with more clarity, more attention.

  Her eyes blurred with tears, and she shoved her sunglasses on and turned to look out to sea so Oliver wouldn’t know. Cirrus clouds shaped like ostrich feathers fluttered across a clear blue sky. The Pacific Ocean stretched to the horizon, its color darkened to ultramarine.

  Her gaze settled on her husband while he pushed the stroller and pointed out things to Lucia. Though he only stood five foot eight, he was muscular and fit. Because of his broad shoulders and back, he always seemed taller, and bigger than his one hundred sixty-five pounds. His movements were relaxed, but every step he took radiated purpose and drive.

  Should something happen to her, he’d grieve, but he’d move on. He’d formulate a plan to fulfill Lucia’s needs and see it through. He’d make sure their daughter was cared for and loved.

  Just as she would have to, should anything happen to him.

  But would he sacrifice his calling, his job, for Lucia? And who would he find to care for her while he was out of the country, as he often was?

  Gulls screeched overhead and Lucia pointed upward as she followed their flight. As though sensing Selena’s absence, Oliver stopped and looked over his shoulder, searching for her. She hurried to catch up.

  “You, okay, cara?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. Just admiring the scenery.”

  Another couple, pushing a double stroller with twins strapped in it, strolled by and exchanged a smile and a nod with Selena.

  She experienced another wave of anxiety. If she took chemo for a long time, she’d never be able to have another child. She’d be sterile.

  She and Oliver planned to have another baby, had been semi-trying for the last six months, in between his training rotations. Their dreams of another child would end.

  “Have you called your mom to talk about any of this?” Oliver asked.

  “No, I didn’t want to worry them until I knew something for certain. Maybe not even then.”

  “Your mom and sisters will be hurt if you don’t tell them, Selena.”

  “Not yet, Oliver.” Every time she said the C word it made it more real, more certain. If she told her family, they’d call her constantly. Their questions and good intentions would undermine what little control she had over her fear. She had to get a handle on everything before she spoke to them.

  “You haven’t told anyone?”

  “I told you.”

  His dark eyes searched her face, then he slipped an arm around her and rested his lips against her forehead. She wrapped her arms around him and held on. Her anxiety eased.

  “Go, Daddy.” Lucia’s voice, impatient and demanding, interrupted the moment. She rocked back and forth as though she could move the stroller with her will alone. Oliver grabbed the handles and pushed her along again while they continued up the pier.

  Chapter Three

  ‡

  Selena’s frenetic unloading of their laundry basket of beach paraphernalia convinced Oliver she was on the brink of implosion. One minute she threw herself into an activity, the next she dropped so deep into her thoughts he feared she’d never surface. How long had she been like this?

  The thing was, he felt the same way…and he didn’t like it one damn bit. He was used to action, but there wasn’t a damn thing to do right now but wait. The waiting he did as a SEAL was long and boring, sometimes fraught with danger, but at least they saw an end to it. He couldn’t see an end this time. There were too many unknowns. The tight band around his chest was suddenly unbearable.

  There were only a few clusters of people on the beach, and the tide would be in soon. He decided to let Selena finish unloading and led Lucia by the hand to a tide pool tucked in an outcropping of rock at one end of the cove. The water was rising, and he was surprised when the toddler ignored the splash of the breakers and concentrated on settling her small feet on the slick rocks.

  She squatted down eagerly when they arrived at the pool. Starfish and sea anemones of a variety of colors clung to the pitted surface, and small fish wove their way between them in the shallow water. A hermit crab scuttled between two submerged rocks and paused to feed on the brown algae coating the shallow pools.

  “Peach,” Lucia declared, squatting and pointing at a sea star.

  Oliver shook his head. “It’s a starfish, baby.”

  “Peach.”

  “Peach is a character in her current favorite cartoon,” Selena explained from behind them.

  “I’m relieved.” He was also relieved she’d decided to join them. “I was trying to figure out how to set her straight.”

  “The story also has a shrimp in it. I fixed shrimp one night for supper and she cried for an hour. It took me half an hour to figure out what she was upset about. I explained that Jacque, the shrimp character, was not on her plate, and then she was fine.”

  Oliver chuckled.

  They tiptoed around a mussel bed and spied a small octopus clinging to the rocks.

  “Look at this little guy, Lucia. Isn’t he something? He’s an octopus.” He spent several moments getting her to say the word and finally settled for ocpus. “Our girl is really smart,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Yes, she is.”

  After a few more minutes of exploration, he lifted Lucia on his shoulders and carried her back to the strip of beach where her toys waited. Lucia ran to her bulldozer and began making motor noises while she pushed sand around with the vehicle’s toy scoop.

  Selena said, “I can’t make up my mind whether she’s going to be a construction worker or an engineer.” She sat on the blanket, stretched out her legs, and crossed her ankles.

  “Let’s hope an engineer.” Oliver sat beside her. “She’ll be doing something creative and earning good money.”

  Selena smiled. “You know you’d have just as much pride in her no matter what she does.”

  He would. His baby girl was his angel. “As long as she’s happy. Speaking of happy, how are plans going for Brett and Tess’s wedding?”


  “Tess gets together with me and the other wives once every couple of weeks for dinner. We talk about the progress and brainstorm for places she can call to get things done. She’s pretty much arranged most of the wedding, since Brett went wheels up right after he’d popped the question. We even went along while she shopped for her wedding gown. It’s beautiful. She’s beautiful.”

  “Not as beautiful as you, cara mia. I still remember how you looked on our wedding day.” He caught the flash of doubt in her eyes. “I do. You had tiny pink roses in your bouquet and in your hair. And your dress had a rose pattern in the lace. I kept thinking you’d decide at the last minute you didn’t want to take a chance on a guy who wasn’t even out of college. Especially one who had plans to go into the Navy as soon as he graduated.”

  “I can’t believe you remember the lace on my dress. We were so young and fearless back then.” She smiled, and for once no melancholy lurked beneath her expression. “Do you think Brett will make it back in time?”

  Oliver shrugged. “There’s no guarantee. He had to fill out the paperwork to notify HQ and his commanding officer of his intent to marry. If he’s not in the thick of things, he’ll make it.”

  “I don’t know what she’ll do if he doesn’t get back.”

  “They can always Skype the ceremony and have a private one once he’s home.”

  Her eyes rounded in amazement. “Ohmygod! Skype the ceremony? Would it even be a legal marriage?”

  “Well, not if he isn’t here to sign the marriage license. I think in the state of California you both have to be present during the ceremony. But he’d be there to say his vows and the I do’s, so she wouldn’t have to cancel the whole thing.

  “Oliver, you have no romance in your soul. Skype the ceremony!” She shot him an exasperated men! look.

  He grinned at her. “We’ll see how much romance I have once we get back home tonight.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He covered her hand with his. “You have to live each moment as it comes, cara. You can’t let this take you out of the fight.”