by Diana Gardin
Kind of like Greta.
It’s not lost on me that it’s because of her that I’m now in the position to possibly start the rest of my life with a new, rewarding career that can give me the same sort of satisfaction being a SEAL does. So far, being around Greta has done nothing but bring me up, out into the sunshine where previously there’d been only darkness.
“Yes, sir,” I finally answer Jacob, a wide grin crossing my face. “I’m damn sure interested.”
Jacob breaks into a tiny smile, and the other three guys take a turn clapping me on the back. “Welcome to the team, Abbot.”
Dare speaks up. “When we work together on a mission, we never use our first names. We use the nicknames we earned in the uniform. They call me Cujo, Jacob here is Boss Man. Teague over there is known as Brains because he’s a tech guru, and we call Shaw Swagger. Because he’s arrogant as shit, but he can always back it up. What about you, Abbot? What do your guys call you in the field?”
My smile comes slow and sure. “They call me Ghost.”
“Because of all that blond hair and white skin?” suggests Teague.
Dare and Ronin laugh outright at his joke, but my smile is gone.
“No,” I answer with a straight face. “Because the assholes we’re after never see me coming.”
Later, sitting around a local Lone Sands bar with my SEAL buddies, my new Night Eagle team, and my closest friends, I’m feeling good. Better than I have in a long time. The prospect of a new job where I don’t have to worry about my prosthetic holding me back has lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. Greta is sitting beside me at the table, having arrived with Mea and her brother, Mikah. Berkeley and Dare are here with Drake, and the night is young and full of promise.
I sip my beer, feeling light as a fucking feather. Wrapping an arm behind Greta’s chair, I scoot it closer to mine. She squeals in surprise, turning her legs so that her body is facing mine and her knees graze the side of my thigh. I glance down at where our legs are touching, a trail of heat sizzling through my black jeans.
“You want to tell me what happened today to put you in such a good mood?” she asks me coyly.
I smile, knowing the Jack in her Coke is making her bolder than usual. Her blushes are fewer and farther between tonight. I like that she’s comfortable enough with me to relax in my presence. When I saw her order her Jack and Coke, I decided right there that I’d only be having two beers tonight. I want to be the one to make sure she gets home safely.
“Yeah…actually, you’re not gonna believe this. Your dad kind of offered me a spot on his team today.”
Her mouth falls open. I expect to see joy and excitement in her eyes, and she eventually does shoot me a quick smile. But before it, there’s a shadow that crosses her expression. It immediately sends my radar into overdrive trying to figure out what caused her hesitation.
“That’s…wonderful. You showed a lot of initiative today when you looked at that map. Stuff like that really impresses my dad. Are you…going to take it?”
She looks away, toward the next table where a bunch of college-aged patrons are getting loud and rowdy.
“Hey.” I use my finger to ease her face back toward mine. “Do you have a problem with me working at Night Eagle?”
I drop my voice a little, wanting our conversation to be between her and me.
She shakes her head firmly. “No, Grisham. I don’t. I want you to be happy, and this obviously makes you very happy.” She offers me a brave smile.
Confusion is making my brain feel foggy. What am I missing? “Then why don’t you sound happy?”
She tries to look away again, but I follow her gaze with my head, staying right in front of her. “Tell me.”
She sighs. “It’s just…I like where this is going, you know? You and me…it’s kind of awesome. And things with my dad have always been strained, and it’s because…” She trails off. Understanding clicks into place for me, like a puzzle I worked hours to solve.
“Because of his job. First the military, and then Night Eagle. And you’re worried that if I start working there…”
She shakes her head ruefully. “I realize I’m being ridiculous. This is an amazing opportunity for you and of course you’re going to take it, Grisham.”
Suddenly, I pull her out of her chair and into my lap, not caring how many of our friends are sitting there to watch. I focus on her and her only as she stares uncertainly into my eyes. “Listen to me, all right? You and me getting to know each other is really fucking important to me right now. I’m excited about the job, sure. But don’t think for a minute that my work will come before the people in my life. It won’t happen. Especially if I’m lucky enough to have someone like you by my side. Okay?”
She nods, relief washing over her face. “Okay. We don’t have to say any more about it.”
“No, we have to say one more thing about it. Me taking a job at Night Eagle means we work at the same place. Did you realize that?”
She slowly shakes her head. “No…but now that you mention it…”
I smile, mischief brewing inside as I trace the line of her slender jaw with my index finger. “It means that I’ll get to see more of you. And that we might make good use of that break room in the back.”
She giggles, squirming on my lap. My cock is in instant beast mode, wanting to make sure she knows it’s there. “I like the sound of that, Abbot.”
“Stop moving like that, angel,” I whisper darkly in her ear. “You’re gonna make it really fucking hard for me to stand up.”
She stills. “Sorry.” Her telltale blush moves across her cheeks and flushes her chest, and damn I want to bury my head between her breasts and feel her heat. My hand slips up her bare thigh. Her skin is burning under my touch.
Someone at the table clears their throat. Greta and I both look up, having forgotten anyone else was with us.
“So, this is happening,” says Berkeley amid a burst of giggles. She moves her hand between Greta and me, gesturing. “Should the rest of us, um…leave?”
Beside her Mea is grinning widely. The guys at the table are all trying to pretend they see and hear nothing, which I appreciate. Until Shaw leans over to tell me in a stage whisper: “I took a picture with my phone. Planning to send it anonymously to the Boss Man.”
I lean back over. “If you do that, you bastard, I will make you pay. Repeatedly.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Just jokes, Ghost.”
I glare at him in response.
Greta buries her head in the crook of my shoulder and my neck, embarrassed. All I want to do is get her out of here. The previous night with her is replaying over and over again in my head, mocking me.
I can’t believe I didn’t make love to her sweet ass when I had her in my bed. I could fix that tonight…
I lean into her, inhaling her sweet floral scent and feeling her soft skin against my lips. “I want to go pay our tabs. And then I want to take you home.”
She pulls back slightly. “To your place?”
I nod slowly, meeting her gaze and feeling myself molding into her hands like putty. There’s a real chance I could end up completely gone for this girl. It’s a chance I’m willing to take because the way I feel when I’m with her is a high I never achieved, even when jumping out of a helicopter.
“Yeah, Grits. To my place.”
She smiles, a slow curling of her lips that’s somehow both shy and sexy at the same time. I take it as a sign she’s ready to leave with me, and I start to vacate my chair and head for the bar, just as the first thumping strains of Luke Bryan’s “Country Girl” sounds from the stage at the front of the room. The band throws themselves into the song, and there’s a mass upheaval as girls all around me leap from their seats.
Including Berkeley and Mea. Mea places a vise grip around Greta’s arm, pulling her behind them to the dance floor. Greta throws me one last longing glance before she disappears into the crowd.
I throw a look around the tab
le. The guys are grinning, and Dare is shaking with laughter.
At the sight of my scowl, he shrugs. “I’ve been there, dude. But girls and that song…you can’t fight it. She’ll be back soon.”
I sigh, heaving myself up from the table. I’m going to go pay Greta and my tabs, so that we’ll be ready to go when she’s done shaking her ass.
Standing at the bar, I get a glimpse of her through the crowd. She’s standing up near the front with Berkeley and Mea, but I barely see the other two. Greta is dancing, shaking it for all she’s worth, her long, dark hair flying all around her. She’s got moves, her lush body rippling and twisting to the beat. I watch, frozen in place, as she dances.
Then the crowd shifts again, and I lose sight of her. Shaking my head dumbly, I turn to flag down a bartender.
Yeah. I could definitely be gone for this girl.
When the song finally ends, I’m back at the table, waiting for Greta. The girls return well into the next song. Berkeley takes a seat in Dare’s lap and Mea plops down in her seat, pristinely sipping her drink like she hadn’t just been showing a bar full of dudes exactly what her hips are capable of.
“Where’s Greta?” I ask, glancing the way they’d just come.
Berkeley glances around. “Wait. Where is Greta, Mea?”
Mea gives me a pointed grin. “Outside. Said she was gonna wait for you by the door because she needed some air.”
I shove my chair backward and barely glance back as I head out. “That’s my cue. See you guys later.”
There’s chuckling behind me as I go, but I don’t look back to see who it is. I book it for the bar’s entrance instead.
Outside, the cool sea breeze hits my face and I see why Greta wanted to get out into it after the way she’d been moving inside. She must be hot and sweaty, a thought that only makes me want to get to her faster. She’s not standing by the front door, though. So I glance both ways outside before walking through the parking lot toward where I’d parked my Jeep. Anticipation at having her all wrapped up in my arms makes me move faster than I normally would.
But when I arrive at the Jeep, Greta’s not there, either. A sudden jolt of panic swirls through me. Thoughts of what happens to girls who are left alone at bars flash through my head, and I’m running back toward the bar.
And stop short when I see Greta standing there, just outside the door.
She smiles. “There you are. I stopped by the table on my way back from the bathroom, but they said you were already outside waiting for me. Ready to go?”
My heart still slamming a rapid beat against the wall of my chest, I grip her shoulders. “You’re okay?”
Her eyes widen. “Yeah…why?”
My breathing is too fast and I can’t shake the fear. The fear that something bad is going to happen to someone I care about on my watch. My vision is blurry; I can’t straighten the jagged line of my thoughts. Not knowing where she was, worrying that something had gone horribly wrong while she was so close…just the very thought tears me open inside.
Soft, warm hands cup my face. Greta’s voice breaks through the darkness I never want her to see. I blink, focusing on her angel face.
“Breathe, Grisham. Just breathe.” Her voice is nothing but a soft brush across my face. “I’m right here. I’m okay.”
Blue, blue eyes. Long, raven hair. Small, perky nose.
Sunshine.
Sunshine.
Sunshine.
Letting out a pent-up sigh, I lean my forehead against hers and take a deep, shaky breath.
We stand for a moment like that, her standing in the shadow of my darkness and me standing on the edge of her light. Finally, her hands begin to stroke my face gently. “Everything okay now? Do you want to go?”
I wrap her in my arms. God, I don’t want her to see this side of me. Wanted to keep her away from it at all costs. But damn if she doesn’t have the ability to take it away with everything in her that’s sunny and light. “Yeah, Grits. I’m more than ready to get out of here.”
She shivers, and I pull her in tighter, thinking she must be chilly. The air is a little cooler than normal for Carolina in September. “Let’s go.”
16
Greta
You still haven’t slept with him?” Mea and Berkeley stare at me in open shock.
The beginning of October has come and gone, and Grisham and I are following our plan to get to know each other and take things slow.
“But that night a few weeks ago when we all went out for drinks…you two were so hot and heavy at the table. I was sure he was taking you home to…” Berkeley trails off, tact making her end her sentence there.
The same tact hasn’t yet gotten ahold of Mea, though.
“Bang your back out,” she finishes matter-of-factly.
“Mea!” I scold her, choking on my Sprite. “Bad form.”
She shakes her head, her dark brown curls bouncing everywhere. “I disagree. I tell it like it is, and I’ll never apologize, my friend.”
“We know,” Berkeley and I say, our voices merging into a simultaneous chorus before bursting into laughter.
My friends and I have decided to take a girls-only spa day. We’re sitting on the rooftop deck of an upscale spa in Wrightsville Beach, under the bright October sun, hot towels wrapped around our necks and clothed in white, fluffy spa robes. Our toes are bare, and each of us holds a glass of champagne.
I can’t afford to take days like this with my girlfriends on a regular basis. Actually, I can’t remember the last time I had an actual spa day. But Mea convinced us to splurge, claiming YOLO as her lifelong motto.
“No, we haven’t. It’s not like we didn’t want to, especially that night. He’s coming from a really messed-up place, and so am I. Especially now that he’s working for my dad. I can’t stop thinking that at some point, the other shoe is going to drop and he’s going to choose the job over me. Like my dad always did.”
“But you get to work with your dad now,” Berkeley pointed out. “And Grisham is showing you how much he wants to be with you. I mean, I’ve known him for a long time, and there’ve been girls. But it’s never been like this.”
Her words send glowing pleasure radiating through me, but something still holds me back from giving myself over completely to Grisham. Whenever we’re together, I can sense him holding back from me as well, and I’m not sure what he doesn’t want me to see.
“I can’t believe that the entire time our families have known each other, his father was such a monster behind closed doors.” A shudder goes through Berkeley. “My heart goes out to his mom. How is she, by the way?”
“She’s coping. She’s going through therapy, and Grisham goes to Jacksonville so he can go with her sometimes. I think it’s helping them both.”
Berkeley nods, sympathy written all over her face. “Good.”
Mea stretches out, her perfectly bronzed body not needing an ounce of color from the sun. Berkeley and I stare at her with envy.
“I hate you, Mea,” I scowl, holding out one alabaster leg. “I really, really hate you.”
“How’s the training going, Greta?” asks Mea with interest. Mea has been asking me repeatedly to teach her some of what I’m learning, but whenever I try, her peaceful yoga-loving approach gets in the way of her learning how to kick serious ass.
“It’s kind of awesome,” I admit. “I didn’t expect for it to be so…normal for me, you know? Grisham says I’m a natural.” I can’t help boasting about Grisham’s praise.
Every time we get together for a sparring session, I get better and better at the MMA style. I have more than a handful of moves under my belt now that I can execute flawlessly, and the time I spend training is making me more toned and limber than I’ve ever been.
“I’m jealous,” mutters Berkeley. “I want to look as lithe and muscly as you. But every time Dare points out that he’s willing to teach me, too, I just end up eating a doughnut.”
We all burst out laughing. Berkeley’s figure is lus
h and curvy. There are no complaints from men in that department. If it weren’t for Dare, she’d be beating them off with a stick.
My phone buzzes with a text, and when I pick it up I gasp at the time. “Shit! I have to go, you guys. Today is the day Grisham gets back on his board. He wants me to be there.”
Mea snorts. “So you basically just did all this spa work for nothing, because you’re about to get all sandy in the ocean.”
Berkeley smiles. “Tell Grish I’m cheering for him!”
I call over my shoulder as I leave my chair and head for the exit to get changed. “I will. Love you girls!”
Then I haul ass to get myself to Grisham’s favorite surfing spot.
It’s one of my favorite times of the year to surf, because by October all of the tourists are gone. Not that many of them find our spot anyway, but a few trickle in during the summers. Our spot is mostly reserved for surfers who live for it, just like Grisham and I both do.
He’s sitting on the beach, knees drawn up to his chest and his bright blue surfboard lying beside him. My steps stutter at the sight of him, and for a moment I just stand and take him in.
He hasn’t yet pulled up his wet suit, so his broad, muscled back is exposed and tanned in the autumn sun. His back is riddled with scars, similar to his chest and abdomen, but it’s clear of ink. When he moves, I can see the wiry muscles bend and shift under his skin, and the sight is amazing.
He’s amazing.
His dark blond hair is messy as usual, and the sunlight glints off of him like a Greek god here on earth. I take a deep breath and continue walking until I’m standing right beside him.
“Where are the guys?” I ask, bending down to kiss his cheek and hitting the sand beside him.
He glances at me, his face warm and inviting as he leans in to press his lips against mine. He tastes minty and fresh. “It’s just me and you today, Grits.”
I pull back in surprise. “Really? You don’t want Lawson and Ben here, too?”
He shakes his head slowly, holding my gaze hostage in his own. “Just you. That okay?”