Saved by the SEAL

by Diana Gardin

  “This,” he whispers at my throat, “is always, always supposed to feel good. I will worship this body, Greta, and the woman who owns it, for as long as you’ll let me.”

  He brings me to the brink of the beautiful pleasure, and then smiles as he pulls his hand away. Before I can protest, he thrusts inside of me, and the fullness is even better than I remember.

  Being this close to him, feeling every part of him connect with every part of me makes me feel like my body was created to love his.

  He hisses as he pulls out of me, then thrusts back in. He lowers himself to his forearms, and I smile because I know he needs to be close to me as badly as I need him to be.

  Then I bite my lip when the angle of his thrusts changes, and he begins repeatedly stroking my clit with an increasing intensity. It doesn’t take long until I’m right at the edge of that wonderful precipice, ready to fall.

  “I love you, Greta.” His whisper is strained, but beautiful. It’s the only thing I need to be able to jump.

  I ride my orgasm longer than I ever have before, and it’s not until I’m coming down that Grisham lets go of his own self-control. He plunges into me, deeper, faster. And then he’s trembling and my name leaves him on a shout as his release empties inside me.

  This is my SEAL, saving me all over again.

  This is love.

  Epilogue

  Grisham

  On Christmas morning, Greta’s up early. It’s unusual for her to be dragging me out of bed, but when a man stays up most of the night worshipping at the altar of Greta, it can happen.

  She’s giddy as she leaps onto the bed, straddling my lap and placing the palms of her hands against my chest. “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!”

  I groan, peeling one eye open and then the other. “Damn, woman! I thought only kids were this excited about Christmas morning!”

  She leans over me, her cerulean eyes vibrant and glowing. “I freakin’ love Christmas! I thought we established that when I decorated.”

  “Yeah. You mean the day after Thanksgiving? When you drenched this entire house and the firm with green and red? Yeah, angel, I got it. I’m up.”

  I grip her hips and sit up, moving her with me as I go. “Let’s go. If I’m going to be up this early, I want to see my girl in the kitchen cooking.’”

  She slaps my chest. “Neanderthal.”

  Grinning, I attach my prosthetic and stand. I cradle her close to my chest, squeezing her perfect ass and nipping at her plump bottom lip. She moans, throwing her head back to give me access to her neck and pressing her body flush against mine.

  “Give me fifteen minutes with you first.” My voice comes out in a growl, because that’s what she does to me. Still. She takes away rational thought, relocating my center of gravity so that my world revolves completely around her. I can’t foresee it ever changing.

  She giggles and ducks her head, pulling away from me and allowing her body to slowly slide downward, stimulating every part of mine in the process. “No! It’s time for presents. Just me and you, remember? Then we’re heading over to my mom’s for Christmas morning breakfast and presents with the girls.”

  “Ah,” I say. “Yeah, okay. Let me hit the bathroom and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

  She swats my ass as I walk away from her, and I turn and give her a dark stare. “Don’t start nothin’, won’t be nothin’, Grits.”

  She smiles coyly and then disappears out of the bedroom doorway.

  Minutes later, I’m walking out into the living room. Greta sits in front of our Christmas tree, laden with ornaments and colorful lights. Berkeley tried hard to divert Greta from using the brightly colored bulbs, insisting that white lights look better. But Greta refused, and I backed up my girl.

  I haven’t felt like this about the holidays in a long time. Christmas with my parents always felt like an excuse to show off what a perfect family we were, when I knew the truth. We weren’t.

  But today, I have Greta, and everything about this holiday feels completely different.

  She pats a spot on the floor next to her, and I take a seat. My flannel pajama bottoms, which match hers, fit right in with the plaid Christmas tree skirt she picked up when we cut down our tree. I’m in awe of the way she’s turned my world upside down in the best possible way.

  Greta leans her head on my shoulder as we gaze at the twinkling lights. “I’m glad we’re going to get to see your mom tonight. What’s Christmas dinner like at your aunt’s?”

  I shrug. “I’ve never been. My dad always had us doing something showy on Christmas for the base we were stationed at. My mom and I never got to spend holidays with her family. I realize now that he isolated her from them a long time ago. I’m happy she’s making up for lost time.”

  “His trial begins at the start of January. I hope it gives you the closure you need to gain freedom from him.”

  I sigh, kissing the top of her head. “Me, too, Grits. Me, too.”

  Perking up, she reaches under the tree. “None of that talk today, though. We’ll have enough justice and trials in the new year to worry about. Today is about me and you and our first Christmas together.”

  I smile at her, knowing full well her most important gift isn’t sitting under our tree. “What you got for me?”

  She slides an envelope toward me. Quirking a brow, I lift the flap and pull out a white piece of paper.

  Unfolding it, I see a drawing. It’s a surfboard, blue and pink. The colors swirl together, and there’s a G2 symbol drawn in gorgeous script in the middle.

  “This is pretty,” I saw quietly. “What is it?”

  She bites the corner of her bottom lip as she assesses my reaction. “It’s the design for the tattoo I’m getting.” She points to her shoulder. “Here. Mea’s brother, Mikah, designed it for me.”

  I’m speechless for a beat. “You’re getting a tattoo?”

  She nods shyly. “I love all your ink. You got it after you left for SEAL training, right? When we first met, you didn’t have it. It represents change for you, when you came into your own after declaring your independence from your father. For me, it’s going to celebrate the start of my new life. With you.”

  I just stare at her, disbelief filling me up. She’s incredible.

  “Plus”—she shrugs with a playful smile—“I think my skin could use a bit of color.”

  Laughing, I grab her into my arms and plant a kiss on her sweet neck. “I love it. I can’t wait to see it on you.”

  She grins eagerly, pulling back from me. “So where’s my present?”

  I tap her nose with my finger. “You’ll get it at your mom’s. Let’s get ready and head over there.”

  She frowns but allows me to lead her back to our bedroom and we do just that.

  Greta opens the front door at her mom’s.

  “Hello?” she calls as we enter the foyer. “Merry Christmas, family!”

  “We’re back here, Greta!” Her mom’s voice floats from the family room at the back of the house.

  Greta takes my hand as we walk down the hallway. When we enter the family room, I’m filled with shock. Greta’s two younger sisters are sitting in front of the Christmas tree, still in their pajamas. Gabi smiles sweetly at us, and Gemma’s eyes dance with delight. That’s my first clue. Gemma’s eyes never dance with delight.

  My second clue is Jacob’s voice. “Merry Christmas, you two.”

  Greta’s head swivels. Jacob and her mom are cuddled together on the couch under an afghan. They look cozy and comfortable, like they sit together like this all the time.

  “What the—” Greta’s voice drops. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

  Jacob and Greta’s mother glance at each other. The expression in their eyes is love rekindled.

  “How long has this been going on?” Greta’s voice is incredulous.

  Her mom stands and comes toward her. “A few weeks. After Thanksgiving, Jacob and I had a long talk.”

  “Sweetheart,” says Jacob,
also rising, “I realized a long time ago that nothing will ever make me as happy as my family does. I had to figure out how to get your mom back. She’s decided to give me another shot.”

  Gabi giggles from the floor. “Surprise! It’s the best Christmas present ever!”

  Greta turns to me, her eyes shining. “It is.”

  My heart fills for them. Their family is back together again. Now healing can begin in Greta’s heart. Her trust issues stemming from the breakup of her parents’ marriage would no longer scar her.

  We spend the morning laughing together, opening gifts and eating a delicious spread. They accept me into their home and their family, and I’m filled with a warmth I’ve never experienced.

  “Are you ready to go?” asks Greta sometime later. “We should get on the road if we’re going to make it to Jacksonville by dinner.”

  We’re sitting on the couch in the family room, having just finished watching a classic holiday film. I stand, taking her hand and pulling her up with me.

  When I drop to my knee in front of her, her mother gasps. Jacob nods proudly, and the girls squeal.

  “Greta Owen, you’re the love I never thought I’d find. You’ve brought sunshine into my life where before there was only darkness. In the new year, I want nothing more than to be the man who makes you happy for the rest of your life. Please, angel, tell me you’ll be my wife. I want your last name to be Abbot.”

  Tears are streaming down her face, and the gorgeous smile I’ve grown to love crosses her lips. She doesn’t need to answer aloud for me to know she’s mine.

  Forever.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my Lord and Savior first and foremost. I am so blessed to be able to do this wonderful thing called a writing career, and it’s through You that I can.

  To my superman, Tyson. True love isn’t a fairy tale. It’s a battle every day, and I’m blessed to be fighting through it with someone as strong and steady as you. Thank you for picking up my slack around the house and with the kiddos when I’m a crazy woman on a deadline. I will always love you.

  To my busy bees, Carrington and Raleigh. Thank you for being patient with Mommy when I am just letting you run around like maniacs while I type away on this computer. You’re always in my thoughts and I do it all for you.

  To my mama, Inez. Thank you so much for passing on your love of books. It meant everything. You are and have always been my inspiration.

  To my crew, the Fab Five: Crystal, Emilee, Beth, Christy, and Maria. Without you hot mamas and our girls’ nights, our girls’ trips, and our group texts, I would go stark raving mad. I’m infinitely blessed to have you in my life, and I hope Dare keeps your hubbies happy for a while! Love and kisses, Kitty.

  To my BFF of the South, Natalee, you are truly one of my favorite people on this planet. Thank you so much for being the first one in line to buy each and every book, and for your unwavering love and support. With each new hero I write, I can’t wait to see what you’ll think of him. I heart you.

  To Stacey Donaghy. What a lucky day it was when you agreed to be my agent. I’m still not sure how it happened, but I’m so thankful it did! Your hard work and positive words, especially about this book, are incomparable. I would not want to navigate this publishing world without you, because what I’ve learned with you by my side can’t be traded. Every time I write something new, I can’t wait until you read it, because you’re my biggest cheerleader. Thank you!

  To my editor, Dana. Thank you for falling in love with Dare and Berkeley! Your input is awesome, and I can already tell this will be a wonderful relationship.

  To my Forever publicist, Fareeda. Thanks for helping to get the word out about my books. You are an excellent guide through this process, and your quick responses feed my type A complexes. Thank you!

  To the rest of the team at Forever Romance, including the wonderful Caroline Acebo, who edited this book, thank you for all the hard work you do in order to make authors look good. You are all so spectacular to work with!

  To my special correspondent who helped me get the SEAL aspects of this book right:. Thank you for letting me grill you for your SEAL intellect. Your help with this story was terrific! You helped me bring Grisham to life in a realistic (I hope) way. I never could have gotten him right without you! Also, a big thank you to your wife, one of my oldest and dearest friends, for lending you out!

  To Tracy Comerford. You are a one-woman wrecking team. You were one of the earliest reviewers to love my books, and I’m lucky enough now to be able to call you so many things: friend, reviewer, publicist, and even my trusty PA from time to time. Your time is so valuable, and the fact that you spend some of it on me and getting the word out there about my books blows my mind. You’re über talented and knowledgeable about the book world. Can’t wait to see where BMBB goes from here!

  To my critique partner for SBTS: Marie Meyer. We share so many things: a writing group, a publisher, and a genre. I admire you and the beauty that is your writing so very much! Thank you for your advice and the encouragement you gave me on this book. Love you, girl!

  To my warm and fuzzy writing group, the NAC. Kate, Ara, Marie, Sribindu, Meredith, Jamie, Jessica, Sophia, Marnee, Missy, Laura, and Amanda. I found you guys when I was already well into this biz, and now I don’t know what I ever did without you. I wouldn’t trade any of you, and I can’t wait for the day when we can all have dinner together. Remember, I would cut a bitch for any one of you.

  To my mentor, Rachel van Dyken. I’m very certain you have no idea how much your effortless kindness and encouragement mean to me, but my admiration and love for you runs deep! Thank you for every returned message, sweet word, and wonderful blurb you’ve done. You’re a complete rock star in the romance world, and I hope to make it as big as you one day!

  To the bloggers and readers who find this book: THANK YOU. Thank you so much for reading, purchasing, reviewing, and spreading the word about the Battle Scars series. Without you, what would I be? You make this possible, and I want to hear from each and every one of you soon!

  Author’s Note

  I have the utmost respect for the men and women who serve our country in the military. I am so thankful for the fact that you risk your life at work every day so that we can enjoy the freedoms we’ve grown accustomed to. I’m in awe of your courage and dedication to serve.

  I grew up in the Hampton Roads region of Virginia, which is home to all branches of the military. The Norfolk Naval Air Base, the Little Creek Amphibious Base, Langley Air Force Base, Fort Eustis, Fort Story, and Fort Monroe. The area is also home to the U.S. Marine Corps Forces Atlantic and the U.S. Coast Guard 5th Atlantic Fleet. My father is retired navy, so I guess you could say I’m a military kid through and through.

  I know what families go through when they send a piece of their hearts to a different part of the world and hope and pray each night that piece will return intact. I know the courage that military spouses and families have in their hearts to go months without the person they love. It’s a true testament to the strong stuff we’re made of as Americans, and I couldn’t be prouder to have come from a place where the military blood and tradition is so strong.

  Although Grisham Abbot is a character that comes completely from my imagination and is in no way modeled after a real individual Navy SEAL, I hope that his character embodies many of the amazing qualities that the men and women in the U.S. Armed Forces possess. He’s truthful, he’s brave, and he loves with all his heart. He’s encouraging, he protects those he loves, and he’s on a journey to see where his life will lead after the navy. Grisham’s struggle with a prosthetic leg is in no way meant to be trivialized, but I’ve never read about a romance hero with one and wanted to bring this incredible sacrifice to light in the most creative way possible.

  So Grisham is a tribute to the men and women who give up so much to fight for us, serve us, and protect us. I hope you fall in love with him during his journey the same way I did.

  Love,
r />   Diana

  Please turn the page for an excerpt from the first book in Diana Gardin’s Battle Scars series

  Last True Hero

  Available now

  Dare

  Welcome to Lone Sands, North Carolina. Where lonely hearts find a home in the sun and the sand.

  Seriously? This postage-stamp-size town off the coast thinks that their best feature is that it’s full of lonely people?

  This is probably the point when I should turn around, drive pell-mell in the opposite direction of Lone Sands. But I don’t. I keep plugging. The love of my life, my Ford F-250, has made it this far from Fort Benning. I’m tired of driving, tired of pulling through fast-food drive-throughs. I just want to stop.

  I just want to live.

  That sounds so simple, just live. But how am I supposed to do that, now? I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do with my life from this point forward.

  But according to my buddy Drake, this quiet little town is the place to be if you’re looking for some peace and quiet after the army sends you packing.

  I observe as I drive. That’s something I’ve always been good at. Observing. Reading people. Taking mental notes.

  Each new road I turn on is picturesque, dusted with sand. Charming shops and restaurants in bright colors adorn the quaint little streets. The ocean is visible sometimes when I glance down a side street, shining and winking with the afternoon sunlight. Cottages are scattered in clusters, tall sea grass intermixed with small dunes for yards.

  I’m going to be living in a town that doubles as the cover of some damn girly book.

  When I pull up to the address I’d put in my GPS back in Georgia, Drake strides out of the unpretentious bungalow. The front garden beds are alive with the leafy fronds of palm bushes, waving at me as if in welcome.