SEAL's Kiss: A Small Town Bad Boy Romance

by Vivian Wood

  The kid said all of it so matter-of-factly, it made Colt’s heart squeeze. He smiled, trying to appear less intimidating.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Jack.”

  “That’s a cool name.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Listen, Jack. Rose is just tired,” he explained. “She’ll be fine later.”

  Jack shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Why don’t you go home?”

  Jack looked disappointed.

  “I was going to help her walk her dogs.”

  “I’ll bet she’s going to need help tomorrow.”

  Jack’s face lit up. “You think?”

  Colt nodded sagely.

  “Definitely,” he said. “She just needs to sleep for awhile.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll go home and watch my mom clean.” He turned around and ran off toward the rental house next door to Rose’s.

  Colt rubbed a hand over his face, then headed for his truck. His brother Walker was supposed to be getting home shortly. Might as well go meet him at the house, since nothing was getting done here.

  He drove back home, and was pleased to see that Walker’s Escalade was parked out front of the main house.

  He stopped for a second to pet Prissy. The pregnant cur wagged her tail as he scratched her ears. If only all women were so easy.

  Colt walked up the steps and caught Walker just coming out of the main house.

  It was like looking at a funhouse mirror, since Walker had the same dark hair and green eyes. The only difference was that Colt's bold nose had been broken in a bar fight, where Walker’s was straight as the arrow flies.

  “Hey,” Colt said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

  “Hey,” Walker said. “Busy?”

  Walker was a man of few words, which Colt appreciated.

  “Nothing.”

  “Wanna ride with me?” Walker asked, pointing toward the barn.

  “All right,” Colt said, shrugging.

  They went to the barn, Colt choosing a chestnut mare for the ride. Walker went with Noir, the midnight black horse he’d raised from a filly. Once they were saddled up, they rode out.

  Colt was silent, staring out at the quiet landscape. Most of this area was rolling green pastures, dotted here and there with some light forestation.

  “Anything new happen?” Walker asked.

  Colt looked over at him, then shrugged.

  “In the month since you’ve been gone?” he asked. “It’s hard to say. There’s a new vet in town.”

  “Sawyer told me about your punishment.”

  Colt couldn’t be sure, but he thought his brother’s lips were twitching.

  “He tell you that Remy’s the size of a house?” Colt said, changing the subject.

  “I gotta go say hi to her and Shiloh this evening.”

  “Oh, Shiloh learned how to do that deer call you were trying to teach him.” Dropping his reins, Colt clasped his hands and used them to blow a few low notes.

  “I bet Remy was excited about that.”

  “Only slightly less than Shiloh’s teacher. That sound gets annoying real fast.”

  Walker chuckled. Colt looked into the distance, at the gradual slope of the land. Eventually it led down to the creek, though they probably wouldn’t go so far today.

  “Looking for anything in particular?” Colt said at length.

  “Not really. Sawyer mentioned that Jonas Whittier was going through some family trouble, and thinking about getting out.”

  “Getting out? Like selling the land?”

  “Yeah. To a real estate developer.”

  “He didn’t say anything to me about it,” Colt said.

  “He probably forgot.”

  “Mmm.” Colt was uncertain about that. “Developers are bad.”

  “Well, some developers are bad. This kind is pretty sketchy. They did Sarepta.”

  “No shit? I had no idea that Sarepta had been developed into anything.”

  “Yup.”

  They rode on in silence for a bit, coming near the line where their property bordered the Whittier property. There was a fence dividing the two properties neatly. Other than that, both properties looked identical.

  Historically, the Whittiers and the Romans had both owned the properties since anyone could remember. Both property owners had land usage rights that weren’t written down on paper.

  It was just a trust thing, one that went back generations.

  “We need to talk to Whittier,” said Walker.

  “I guarantee the developers wouldn’t be as easygoing about their land usage rights.”

  “Especially not if they do like they did in Sarepta, and use a big tract of mostly flat land to build houses.”

  The idea of houses bordering the land where he grew up made Colt’s fists clench.

  “I’d hate that,” Colt said. “I can’t have that happen here.”

  Walker didn’t say anything, but Colt could see distaste on his face, too. Eventually he turned his horse back toward the house, heading in.

  “So this veterinarian,” Walker said. “What’s her deal?”

  Colt ran his hand over his pants leg.

  “Uhhh… well, she’s supposed to be working on the clinic, getting things in order so that she can see patients there...”

  “Yeah?”

  “But she was too hungover to work today,” Colt said. “Way to make a case for yourself, working in a small town, right?”

  “Is she good looking?”

  He took a minute to respond.

  “She’s all right.”

  Walker cracked a smile. Colt looked at him.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing my ass. You got something to say, then say it.”

  “Just… you know. Sounds like you got a little crush going, there.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I’m just saying,” Walker said with a shrug. “It’s like you’re both in elementary school and you’re pulling her pigtails.”

  “Get out of here,” Colt said. “I’ll race you back to the barn.”

  He kicked his horse into a gallop, flying across the open range. All the while thinking, Walker must be wrong.

  He had to be wrong. She was unfriendly, didn’t like to be touched, and frankly didn’t seem to want Colt hanging around.

  Colt shook his head and leaned into the gallop.

  12

  Jared drove into Catahoula Creek, slowing down as he passed through the downtown strip. For a town, it was pathetic.

  A grocery slash pharmacy. Two small restaurants. A school made of three whole buildings. A gas station. A bar. Feed store slash hardware store. A few retail spaces.

  That was pretty much the whole of it, with houses dotted here and there.

  Jared stopped his cherry-red Chevy, turned around. He drove through town again, imagining how his business would take over.

  They’d buy every business owner out for cheap, blackmailing those that tried to say no. They’d flatten all the existing structures, save maybe the school. No money to be had there.

  They’d raise gleaming new buildings, all costing as little as possible. Then they’d get a farmer to sell them the land they needed to build houses. Prefabricated, of course.

  He could see it all now, in his mind’s eye. Could almost smell the profit, it was so palpable. He was going to turn this town into a moneymaker, just like Sarepta and the other three that were in the works.

  Grinning, he turned left off the main drag and headed for Jonas Whittier’s place. Whittier was just as pathetic as this town, and he and Jared both knew it.

  Jared drove out to the farm, the flattest land around. He could see where the houses would go, picturing them perfectly. No more ramshackle barns going to seed, no more aging and ancient farmhouses.

  Jared liked things to be as clean and new as possible. He figured everyone else would love it, just as they’d loved Sarepta.

  Wel
l, not everyone, but the people that didn’t like the changes in Sarepta were mostly old fogeys. They’d moved as soon as property and tax prices had gone up.

  He drove by sugarcane fields, bright green this time of year. He’d grown up around them, but with his father in the construction industry, he’d never gotten why people were so damned attached to the fields.

  It’s just sugar, he thought. Plain ole sugar.

  He pulled up to the Whittier place, an old farmhouse that looked like it was about to fall down. Once white and pristine, the two-story structure just plain needed to be torn down.

  Luckily, that was what Jared was here to do.

  When he got out of the car, he made sure to take a manila envelope with him. In case Jonas Whittier had any plans that went against Jared’s wishes, the manila envelope was… insurance.

  He saw the front door open, saw Jonas come out, looking cantankerous. A blond giant, Jonas never really looked happy, but today he looked downright angry.

  “What are you doing here?” Jonas asked, coming down the steps of the front porch.

  “Came to see if we can’t finish a little business,” Jared said, with an easy smile on his face.

  “No business to be finished. I didn’t even take your proposal to my lawyer.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Because. This property has been in my family since the dawn of time. I can’t give it up. You would be building your houses on my son’s heritage.”

  Jared’s smile vanished.

  “You need the money,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, but this place is worth easily six or seven times what you’re offering. I can scrape by until the next sugarcane crop comes due.”

  “You need the money now,” Jared said. “The people you owe money to aren’t going to be very happy, otherwise.”

  “Screw them,” Jonas said, waving the thought away. “You need to go.”

  “Actually…” Jared said, handing over the folder. “I think you’ll find that you want to reconsider my offer.”

  Jonas looked at him, then opened the folder. His eyes went wide as he looked at the photos, one after another.

  “Where did you get these?” Jonas asked, his voice quiet and low.

  Jared smiled. Now they were getting somewhere.

  “Why don’t we go inside and talk?” Jared suggested.

  Jonas looked from the photographs to him. He slowly nodded, waving him toward the house. Jared could smell the desperation wafting off of him.

  It smelled like victory.

  13

  Rose was back at the clinic Thursday with a bucket full of cleaning supplies, ready to work. The dogs were at home, in the yard; she planned on running home to get them when the noxious cleaning odors were gone.

  She put her hair in a ponytail, rolled up her jeans, and got to work. The first thing she did was hit every surface with some disinfecting bleach.

  The ceiling, the walls, the built-in counters, the floors. Everything got a good bleaching, until the place smelled a pleasant mixture of bleach and lemons.

  She threw open the doors halfway through, for breathability. When she finally finished, her rolled up jeans and t-shirt were damp with perspiration.

  She went outside and grabbed a bottle of water from her car, leaning against the hood. The building needed a power washing, she decided. Doing that before she painted would give the new coat of paint something clean to cling to.

  She heard footsteps in the gravel, got a warning tingle up and down her spine. She turned and found Jared Chalke staring at her from less than twenty feet away, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.

  Same blond hair, same sky-blue eyes, same look on his face.

  She could feel her jaw drop, feel the stupid look on her face, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She just looked at Jared, horrified.

  At first, she thought he must be a figment of her imagination. Jared couldn’t be here.

  Then he opened his mouth. “Howdy, Rose.”

  He took a step toward her, that smirk of his playing around his mouth. Rose dropped her bottle of water, ran for the doors of the clinic. She managed to get them closed, locked them against him.

  She backed away, trembling.

  Heard him as he tried the doors.

  “Rose, open up,” he called. “It’s been a while, don’t you think?”

  She felt sick. She didn’t answer, couldn’t.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling at the doors again. “I thought you and me could have a little fun. You didn’t get the whole experience last time, you know?”

  “Fuck you!” she spat, uncontrollable. At least she’d been able to get something out.

  “Ah, she speaks! Now come out here and let me show you what you’ve been missing.”

  She couldn’t see him, but she could tell that he was grinning. And while she was shaking harder then hell, she was also angry beyond belief.

  Who the hell was he to think he could terrorize her at her place of work, in the middle of the day?

  She unlocked the door with a shaking hand, pushed it open. “Get back,” she threatened.

  He stepped back a few steps, looking a little surprised.

  “Jesus, Rose, I didn’t think—” he started, but she cut him off.

  “I can’t believe you have the nerve to come here and talk to me after what you did.”

  He looked a little taken aback.

  “What, gave you the night of your life?”

  “First of all, I said no. I said it loudly and repeatedly. That makes it rape.”

  “Now hold on—”

  “Just because the sheriff and the district attorney didn’t want to prosecute, that doesn’t mean it’s okay.”

  “Well, Rose—”

  “And furthermore, it lasted all of three minutes, so I don’t want to hear any more of this night of your life crap.”

  “You’re a bitch, you know that? A sorry-ass bitch,” he said, grimacing.

  “I don’t know who you think you are, or what right you think you have to do this, but you need to leave,” she said, voice stronger than she expected. “And don’t come back.”

  “You want me. I know you do, Rose. I bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you?”

  Rose felt bile rise in the back of her throat. She spat on the ground, disgusted. “You need to leave. Now.”

  “I bet you haven’t been with anyone since me,” he taunted. “You can’t.”

  Rose saw a flash of red as Colt’s truck came down the road. She was glad to see someone, anyone… but at the same time, she wished it wasn’t him pulling into the clinic’s parking lot.

  Jared glanced behind him. His smirk turned into a sneer.

  “You’re replacing me with him? Please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’ll never really be with anyone like you were with me.”

  Colt caught the last few words as he got out of the truck, saw the distress on her face. “What’s going on here?”

  “Jared Chalke,” Jared said, offering his hand.

  Don’t shake his hand, she silently pleaded. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want Colt tainted by Jared’s touch.

  Rose watched anxiously, but Colt didn’t take Jared’s hand. He stared Jared down, until Jared shrugged and dropped his hand.

  “Uh-huh,” was all Colt said, looking at Rose.

  “He’s leaving. And not coming back,” she said quickly. She gave Jared a hard look.

  “Whatever. See you around, Rose,” Jared said, turning and walking off.

  They both stood there and watched him for a moment.

  “Are you okay?” Colt asked.

  No, I was just forced to confront my rapist, she thought. Tears rose, stinging the corners of her eyes.

  She didn’t say that, though. Instead she nodded.

  “I’m, um… I just bleached everything inside. I thought that you could power wash the outside of the building before you paint it,” she said, clearing her throat.

  “
Guess what? I brought a power washer and a paint sprayer,” he said, looking down at her.

  She looked up at him. He was suddenly so appealing, in his plaid shirt with the elbows rolled up. Dark hair just a bit askew, lips twitching.

  “You read my mind,” she said, biting her lip.

  He raised a brow at the blatant undertone present in her statement, but she shook her head.

  “I mean… about the building,” she said, looking away as she flushed red.

  “O… kay,” he said. “I’ll just go get the power washer, then.”

  He went to go get it, leaving Rose to tamp down her hormones alone.

  What’s the matter with me? she chastised herself. First I’m scared out of my mind, then I can’t control my libido.

  She went back inside, shaking her head at herself. Everything inside was clean, which meant it was time to set up things so she could paint.

  As she carefully lined the walls with painter’s tape and drop cloths, she heard the sound of the power washer go on, heard the spray against the outer walls.

  As she worked, she realized she felt less afraid. Part of that was the fact she’d confronted Jared, really let him have it, nothing held back.

  Part of it though… part of it was Colt. He was tall, muscular, and he had showed up at just the right moment.

  The fact that she was somewhat attracted to him made her wonder.

  What if she proved Jared wrong? What if she slept with someone, just once… just to prove that she still could?

  Would it be so wrong?

  Fuck Jared, she thought. I’ll do it… if I can get up the nerve.

  Sighing, she went back to work taping off the space. It went quick, but the painting itself was slow work.

  Rose had three walls painted inside by the time it was dusk. Colt came in, surveying her work.

  “You should’ve let me use the paint sprayer,” he said. “Less work for you.”

  She shrugged. “A little hard work never killed anybody.”

  “I raked all the rocks outside in the drive. It looks like a new driveway out there.”

  “Yeah?” she said, glancing outside.

  “Yeah. You probably don’t have to replenish the rocks. I think most of them were just pushed to the side. And the building will dry overnight, so it’ll be ready for a new coat of paint when I come over next.”