Consolation (Consolation Duet #1)

by Corinne Michaels

  These guys are all the same. Morons. “Sure, you’re the most handsome man I’ve seen in weeks . . . well, besides my mailman. He’s pretty dreamy.”

  “I think I could take him.”

  “Pretty sure that’s a federal offense.”

  “He can’t touch these guns,” he retorts and flexes.

  I roll my eyes and snort, “Oh, dear God.”

  I laugh as we walk to the conference room and I notice the stares, but I pretend not to.

  Mark notices my unease, “I know this is going to be awkward, but give it a few days and you’ll be one of the guys.”

  “Do I really want that?”

  “I can make up a cute name for you . . . let’s see,” he sits in the chair and looks deep in thought.

  “I’m worried you’ll burn what little brain cells you have left if you keep thinking that hard,” I taunt him. Being around Mark is like being around a puppy. He naturally brings out the fun and playful side. And he’s caring yet strong and has this undeniable pull that makes you want to be near him.

  “Keep it up and your name will be something you don’t like,” his brow raises and his lip curls. “You know you don’t get to pick. Call signs are given. They’re a rite of passage and you get no say. I mean, you think I wanted to be called Twilight?”

  Leaning in my chair, I tap the pen. “I don’t know, I mean, you look like you could have a thing for vampires.”

  He laughs and I follow. “Fill out the paperwork and then I’ll be back.” He walks over and places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. We need the help with Muffin gone.”

  My hand rests on his. “I know it’s hard having them both gone.” In a matter of a few months, Mark lost his two best friends in a manner of speaking. Aaron and he were extremely close. They spent weekends rebuilding Aaron’s car, barbeques on the beach, and then Jackson moved to California. I can’t imagine it’s been easy for him either.

  “You know me,” he replies and removes his hand. I look at the paper and I hear the door click closed. Aaron’s death has rocked our worlds and none of us are acknowledging it.

  Once I finish filling out what feels like three hundred forms, I head out to find Mark.

  Not paying any attention, I open the door and hear a deep voice, “Hey.”

  I drop the papers and look up to see Jackson. My hand clutches my chest, “Hey, you scared the shit out of me.” I give a nervous laugh.

  Well, this is unexpected. Jackson called the other day to see how we were doing and make sure I was still planning to come to work for him. He towers over me with his six-foot-three frame. I’m not short by any means, but he makes me feel tiny. He crouches and picks up the papers.

  “Sorry about that. Catherine says I do the same thing,” he laughs and his eyes light up when he says her name.

  “How’s she doing?” I ask. I’ve spoken to her a few times since her move to California, but with the time difference, we seem to miss each other.

  Jackson’s joy is prevalent in his features. His eyes brighten, his lips lift, and my heart cracks. I remember being that in love. “Great, we’re great.”

  I laugh to cover the pain that’s building. “I didn’t ask about you,” nudging him, I say playfully.

  “Yeah, yeah. Everyone cares about her and couldn’t care less about me,” he winks. “How are you doing?” he asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in. He’s carried immense guilt for all that’s happened and offered me a job any time I wanted to work. The flexibility and ability to make my own hours was more than appealing. As a journalist, I had to go when the story came. There would’ve been way too many nights I wouldn’t be able to put Aarabelle to sleep.

  I let out a slow breath as he releases me. “I’m living. Liam’s been around taking care of things around the house. He’s helped a lot with the stupid, mundane stuff.”

  “Dempsey’s a good guy. I spoke with him last week.”

  “Oh,” I reply, a little surprised. I didn’t know they were friends like that.

  Jackson chuckles at my response. “I have to check on you somehow since you won’t answer my calls.”

  “I answer!” I exclaim defensively. “Well, sometimes . . .” I trail off.

  “It’s okay. I know you’re busy and Demps says you lie anyway,” he gives me a knowing look. Jackson is good at reading people. They all are. Sometimes being friends with all SEALs isn’t all that great. Sure, I’m always safe and protected, but it’s impossible to hide anything. Aaron being gone for a while has made me a little lost as to how to act. I drew my strength from him, now I have to rely on my own. Which I think I’ve done a pretty good job at.

  “I don’t lie . . . I’m just tired of saying the same thing over and over.”

  “Yeah, I remember that feeling,” Jackson replies.

  Oh, how could I forget? Jackson knows better than anyone else. He’s been exactly where I am when his wife died. I’m an idiot and insensitive. “Jackson,” I place my hand on his arm, “I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid.”

  He gives a short laugh and guides me into his office. “Sit,” he says with authority, but still gentle.

  It always amazes me how Jackson can be so hard because he has the biggest heart of anyone I know. He’d literally cut off his arm so someone else didn’t have to be in pain. Aaron always admired him and said it was an honor to serve with him. I think he’d be proud that I’ve come to work for Jackson, even if he died because of the job he was doing for him.

  Jackson sits across from me, “I’m not one to talk about Maddie and all that happened. I’ve been better since Catherine, but it’s still something I work through. I know you say you’re fine, and that’s okay, but you don’t have to be fine with me. Or Liam,” he gives me a pointed look.

  “I don’t know what everyone expects, you know?” I ask. “I mean, do people expect me to be doing cartwheels down the halls? In love already? Married? Or would they prefer me drunk so I don’t have to feel?”

  He huffs, “No, they don’t expect that. They don’t know what to expect either. I refused to date after her death. I never wanted to have a fucking woman near me.”

  I smile, because I know where he’s going.

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t even say it.” Jackson’s grin grows again.

  “You’re cute in love,” I lean back and smirk.

  He crosses his arms and mimics my stance, “I’m always cute, but that’s not the point.”

  I roll my eyes at his arrogance. They all need therapy. “Between you and Mark, I don’t know how anyone can get any work done.”

  “Why?” he asks, confused where I’m going.

  “Well, I mean you’re both sooo good-looking. I’m sure everyone just stares all day,” I reply sarcastically.

  Jackson’s laugh echoes in the room. “You’ll get used to it,” he winks.

  “Cat deserves a medal for putting up with you. One day she’ll see the truth.”

  “I’ll marry her before that happens. I just need to convince her that I’m worth being around forever.” Jackson is always honest. It’s the one thing we can count on.

  “How are you guys doing?” I think Catherine is good for him. She keeps him on his toes and he complements her.

  “Good, she’s doing her thing and I’m happy to be back in California. I’m close enough to San Diego, which worked out well. Anyway, enough about me . . . we were talking about you.”

  “Let’s not.”

  Jackson puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying you have to do whatever you need to in order to survive, but after a while, surviving isn’t enough. Catherine showed me that. I could’ve been in a much better place if I hadn’t lived in limbo for two years.”

  There’s not much I can say. I know he means well, and I know he genuinely understands how I’m feeling. Even I don’t understand what the hell I’m feeling or why, but still. “Thanks, Jackson.”

  “Enough heavy shit. How’s my beautiful goddaughter?”


  The smile at the thought of Aarabelle is automatic. I love that little girl more than my own life. “Thankfully, after the medicine knocked out the infection, she’s been good. You should come see her.”

  He laughs, “I was coming whether you offered or not. I had Mark get your office put together last week. I meant what I said about being flexible . . . if you need to work from home because she’s sick or whatever the case, you can do that. We want you to be happy here and if you need something, feel free to drive Mark absolutely insane until you get it.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that just for fun.”

  Jackson stands and extends his arm forward. He escorts me to my office.

  We enter and I stop short. It’s bigger than his office. I would think this is a conference room. “Wow, Jackson, what the hell?” I question him. “This office is huge. Mark, who’s basically running things from here, is in a cubicle. This is nuts.” I’m blown away and it’s completely unexpected. I’m a receptionist. I won’t go on missions or do anything but file some paperwork and get their ridiculous filing system in order. Honestly, it’s highway robbery for what he’s offered as a salary.

  “You may have to bring her here once in a while. We all agreed you’d need something bigger,” Jackson states without batting an eye. “I left some things on your desk if you want to get started. Shoot me an email when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Ummm, sure.” I stand gaping at this room. It’s crazy and completely overboard. I should’ve expected it though since Jackson Cole does nothing half-assed.

  Time to get to work.

  “Hello?” I hear Liam’s raspy voice call out.

  “In the kitchen!”

  Aarabelle sits in her highchair as I feed her dinner. She’s growing so fast. Already she’s eating cereal and a little baby food. Soon she’ll be crawling and I have no one to celebrate with. Her father will never see these milestones and it breaks me apart.

  “You should really lock the door,” Liam huffs as he throws his coat over the chair.

  “But then I’d have to get up to let you in,” I state matter-of-factly and go back to feeding the baby, trying to put aside my worries. The fact is . . . this is reality. I have to deal with it.

  “Uh huh. Hey, Pumpkin,” his eyes alight as he crouches down by Aara. It’s adorable hearing grown men use a baby voice. It gets a little softer and higher pitched.

  The corners of her mouth lift and she throws her arms in the air when he gets close. My heart sputters seeing how happy she gets seeing him. Liam kisses her head and she giggles.

  “At least someone is happy to see me,” he says playfully.

  “I’d be happy if you brought me a present,” I joke.

  He laughs and goes into the pocket of his coat. “Just so happens I did, but since that’s the only way you’ll be nice, I’ll hold on to this until you’ve earned it.”

  Practically leaping out of my chair, I rush over. “What is it?” I try to peer around his back as he holds the mystery item.

  Liam’s lips curl as he sees how much I want this. I don’t even know what it is. Jeez, I’m an idiot. “Nope. We eat first, then maybe you’ll get it.”

  “Watch, it’s a freaking Pez dispenser or something stupid.”

  “Guess you’ll have to be nice to find out.” He shoves the item into his back pocket and I fight the urge to reach and get it. “How was work?”

  We spend the next thirty minutes going over my day and Jackson’s return. Liam never mentioned that they spoke, but he’s surprised to hear he’s in Virginia. After we finish the pizza, Liam somehow convinces me we should watch a movie. I get Aarabelle to bed and come down to find him sprawled out on the couch.

  “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”

  Liam pulls his beanie higher on his forehead and his eyes glimmer with amusement. He sits up and puts the TV on. “I picked the movie.”

  “What?” I ask with mock incredulity. “It’s my house. Why do you get to pick the movie?”

  “Ummm, I’m the guest.” He shrugs as if this should be an obvious answer.

  I groan and lean back. “What crappy, shoot-’em-up movie do I have to endure?”

  “You’ll see. It’s a classic.” Liam wraps his arm around me and pulls me to his side.

  I cuddle into his chest without thinking. After practically sleeping on top of him in the hospital, I have no qualms about cuddling. I miss cuddling and if he’s one of the rare men who enjoy it, I’m good with that. The selfish part of me likes him touching me. Yet I don’t want to like it. It’s wrong to enjoy another man’s arms around me so soon.

  The movie begins and I want to tear my eyes out. “No!” I yell and sit up. “No. No, no, no. I’m not watching this horrible crap,” shaking my head vehemently, reaching for the remote.

  “‘Friday After Next’ is Oscar-worthy.” Liam snatches the remote and tucks it in his pants.

  “Are you serious? Did you just shove my remote in your pants?”

  Liam sits there daring me to go get it. Infuriating man.

  “Now, are you ready to watch the best movie ever?”

  “I hate you.”

  “I can live with that.” He pulls me back down and I seriously contemplate getting the remote. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”

  “Doubtful.”

  Maybe he’ll enjoy when he has to watch ‘Pitch Perfect’ on our next date. Date? Wait. I called this a date. This is just two friends snuggling and watching movies after dinner. Oh my God. Between the hospital, him calling, taking care of me, and all of the other things, it starts to click. No. He’s my friend and he doesn’t feel that way.

  I don’t feel that way.

  I mean, sure he’s good-looking, but he’s off limits. He’s Liam. The best man in our wedding. The man who helped move Aaron and I into our first home. Lines can’t be blurred. My body tenses and Liam notices.

  “If you really hate this, we don’t have to watch,” he offers.

  I look into his blue eyes and fear flutters in my stomach.

  “No, I’m fine. Let’s watch.”

  “Now, come get comfortable so I can school you on the top flight security of the world,” he says in his best movie imitation.

  “Can I have my present?” I ask.

  Liam reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a pack of gum. I give him my best resting bitch face and he laughs. “I never said what it was.”

  “You really know how to woo a girl.”

  “You’ll know when I’m actually trying, babe.”

  He pulls me against his side and starts the movie. I pray he doesn’t sense the change in me. The tension rolls off me, but I try to relax and enjoy tonight.

  She fits into my side like she was meant to be here. I should’ve left. Hell, I never should’ve come over, but I wanted to see Aarabelle. Well, that’s the bullshit I keep telling myself. The truth is I missed Natalie.

  And that makes me a douchebag.

  “This movie is so dumb,” she mutters next to me.

  Some women should get a handbook on movies men will never hate. This would be one. “Top Gun” would be another. That movie has hot chicks and bad ass Navy shit. “It would be a lot better if you weren’t complaining,” I reply, thankful for the distraction.

  “Asshole,” she mumbles under her breath, but then wraps her arm around my stomach.

  I want to give a smartass comeback, but I don’t want her to move. The feel of her body against mine makes me want more. It’s wrong on so many levels. I’m breaking the ultimate man-code, but I can’t stop myself. I can only hope that Aaron would want her to be with someone like me. The fuck if I know why I’m even thinking about any of this . . . she doesn’t want me. She wants her husband, and I’m just her asshole friend who won’t go away.

  Natalie’s arm rubs against my stomach and I try to stop the hard-on forming.

  Nuns.

  Spiders.

  Justin Bieber.

  Grandma.
/>   I shudder from that last one, but thankfully that did it.

  I would never be able to explain my dick getting hard from this freaking movie. She’d know for sure what’s up. Her fucking hand being that close to my junk causes me to have to breathe through the list again. I need to focus and stop thinking.

  The movie plays on and she begins laughing at it instead of letting me know how stupid everything is.

  “See, I told you. Comedic gold.” I lean back a little more and smirk at her.

  She looks at me and then looks away quickly. I saw it though, the way she stared at my lips a little longer than a beat.

  Natalie shakes her head and when she looks back at me, she has her mask firmly in place. “When I force you to watch ‘Pitch Perfect’ or ‘The Notebook,’ we’ll see how you feel about cinematic gold.”

  “You’ll have to tie me down and gag me to make that shit happen, sweetheart. The only chick movie I’ll ever watch is ‘Lethal Weapon,’” I reply smugly.

  “First of all, ‘Lethal Weapon’ is not a chick flick.” She stays put, but I feel her stir. Natalie is easy to wind up. When she gets heated, I see a piece of her old self coming back. Not this fake happy bullshit.

  “I have to disagree.” My hand falls and rests on her back.

  “You would.”

  “You just fail to see the epic romance.”

  Natalie scoffs, “You’re an idiot. There’s no romance at all! It’s two cops trying to not get fired.”

  I laugh and pull her close, “Mel Gibson is trying to get what’s-her-face to be with him.”

  “That’s a subplot. It’s not even the basis of the movie.”

  “Total chick flick. I win.” I grin knowing that I have absolutely no argument. It was just the first movie I thought of and I’m totally grasping at straws.

  She lets out a deep sigh. “I give up. You can’t fix stupid.”

  I’ll let her slide on that one—this time.

  My fingers start to rub her back as we both quiet down and return to watching the movie. I don’t even notice I’m doing it until I feel her tense. Her breathing stops and she sits up. Which further proves my point about her not wanting me.