SEALed With A Kiss: Heroes With Heart

by Low, Gennita

  Greenback shook his head. “They shut down when I got close, but the tension was pretty thick.”

  Hawk narrowed his eyes against the sudden glare as they turned into the sun. He reached into his pocket for his sunglasses and shoved them on.

  “I know there’s something going down—”

  Hawk drew a deep breath. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it. There’s no way you could have taken out two tangos, snuck into the house, knocked Cutter unconscious, gotten out, and gotten back to your position in time. We’re talking minutes here. It had to be someone there.”

  “Fuck—”

  He couldn’t agree more. But the information didn’t clear any of them, just gave him more to look at. “I appreciate you hanging yourself out there.”

  Greenback shrugged. “Brett deserves better than he got.”

  “Yeah, he does.”

  *

  Time seemed to pass at a turtle’s pace. With every glance at the clock, anxiety pulled at Zoe’s muscles like weights, tightening her shoulders and neck. As her anxiety rose, so did her anger. Damn the man responsible for Brett’s injuries. She wished every vile thing she could think of on him while stifling the urge to scream.

  She paced the floor more out of a need to burn off some of her emotion than an inherent restlessness.

  Hawk arrived bringing with him the scent of the ocean. Just seeing him brought every defense she had crashing down. Her fear for her brother spurred her toward him, and she pressed close.

  “What is it?” he asked, his arms tight around her. It was a moment before she could trust her composure and explain what Dr. Connelly was going to try.

  His features grew taut and his black brows fisted. “How dangerous is this?”

  “Connelly said he believed the benefits outweighed the risks. There could be a few side effects, but that’s all. Brett doesn’t have much to lose at this point, Hawk.”

  His jaw tightened. “I suppose not.”

  She started to tell him the rest, but held back. If she repeated Dr. Connelly’s words, it would give them credence. If she gave them credence, she’d begin to accept them. She wasn’t ready to do that yet, not as long as there were other things they could try. Not while there was still hope Brett would wake up.

  She moved to her brother’s side. They had removed the bandages from his head and pale bristle-like fuzz was beginning to cover his scalp. The liquid nutrition, fed into a tube through his nose and down the back of his throat, was keeping him from losing weight, but his muscle tone was growing less pronounced. They had begun to turn him more often to make certain he didn’t develop bedsores. She wanted to grab him and shake him. Her throat ached with her desire to scream at him to wake up.

  Hawk’s hands rested on her shoulders from behind offering comfort. The gesture brought her emotions close to the surface, and her eyes stung with tears. She wouldn’t give into them. To give into them was like giving up.

  “It’s going to be all right, Zo.”

  She nodded. She folded her arms and leaned back against him, drawing strength from his closeness.

  He slipped an arm around her waist. When Angela came in, he continued to hold Zoe. The nurse piggybacked a new IV onto the one Brett already had in his arm, and hung the bag of medication on the IV pole.

  Hope, excitement, and fear crashed together inside Zoe making it difficult for her to breathe. She squeezed Hawk’s arm. “How quickly will it work, if it’s going to?” she asked, her voice sounding husky as it worked around the knot of emotion in her throat.

  The nurse looked up as she adjusted the tubing. “It could be minutes, or a few hours, or even days. It just depends on him.”

  Zoe nodded, her eyes going to Brett’s face.

  Angela gave her arm an encouraging pat as she brushed by. “Call me if there’s any change.”

  Zoe gave her a brief nod.

  “If Cutter opens his eyes and sees me holding you like this, he’s likely to climb out of bed and kick my butt,” Hawk said as the door closed behind Angela.

  It took real work, but she managed a smile as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Don’t take this wrong, but I hope he tries.”

  He gave her a gentle squeeze and released her. “Try and relax, Zoe. Like Angela said, it may take a while.”

  She sat down beside Brett’s bed and picked up a book she had been attempting to read but didn’t open it.

  Hawk settled in the other chair and turned the TV onto a sports channel, but he looked at her instead of the screen.

  Brett took a deep breath and turned on his side. The book landed with a dull thud as Zoe leaped to her feet.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‡

  Shit—shit—shit. The word kept going through Hawk’s head as he drove through the busy streets toward home. He flexed his shoulders to try and ease some of the tension settling right between his shoulder blades. Watching Brett’s every movement had kept them both on red-alert. Having to leave the hospital, with him still comatose, had been a crushing disappointment.

  Watching Zoe had been nearly as painful as watching Brett. With every passing hour, her hope had slowly dimmed. She had grown quieter and shut herself off from him. He had never seen her so low.

  “I think I’ll go lie down for a few minutes,” she said, as they entered the house.

  He nodded. He needed a stiff drink to drown his disappointment, and a good workout to burn off his frustration.

  “In case you need me, I’m going downstairs to work out,” he said.

  Laying a hand on his arm momentarily, she limped down the hall toward her room, but stopped midway to turn and look over her shoulder at him. “I appreciate your staying with me today.”

  He shrugged. “Where else would I be?”

  She looked away.

  He stifled the urge to go to her, something in her posture keeping him at a distance. “The doctor said they might have to try several meds, remember that.”

  She nodded, her eyes downcast.

  “He’s a SEAL, Zoe. Uncle Sam doesn’t want all those hours of training, and the money it cost, to be wasted. They’ll try everything to get Cutter back on his feet.”

  She started to say something, stopped, and nodding again, continued on to her room.

  Hawk rubbed a hand over his face. He needed to hit the weights and work off the emotional overload. He went to his room, changed into shorts, and went downstairs to the unfinished room beneath the back porch. Bare sheetrock covered two walls, the other two sported wooden two by fours and insulation.

  He needed to finish this job and doing something creative might be more beneficial than lifting weights. He closed the door, so as not to disturb Zoe. Positioning wood blocks along the bottom of the wall, he lifted a four by eight sheetrock panel onto the supports. Using a drill, he sank the screws to hold the board in place. He had just moved on to the next sheet when Zoe came down the stairs. She had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and was wearing her brace.

  “I thought you were going to lie down.”

  “I couldn’t. We’ve sat too long at the hospital and the inactivity is killing me. You can’t do this by yourself. Well, obviously you can, but I’d like to help.”

  He nodded. “Grab the end of this board and hold it steady while I sink the screws.”

  As Zoe worked beside him, he debated how much to tell her. Because of his job, so much of his life had to remain secret. Had that behavior grown to be such a part of him that he didn’t know how to share even the things he could? Was that why Veronica had walked away?

  Within an hour they had covered the lower half of two walls. “The upper half can wait until one of the guys comes over.”

  “If you have the sheetrock mud and tape, we can start applying it to the walls you have finished.”

  Surprised, his brows rose. “I didn’t know you’d worked construction.”

  “Every woman needs to know how to do basic repairs. Not all of us have a man around the house, and now
-a-days, not all men go in for projects like this, even if they’re around.”

  After her earlier depression, he was relieved to see her smile. He lifted a ten-pound bucket of joint compound onto the center of the tarp they stood on, and opened it. “I had to learn. There aren’t many contractors around here interested in doing small jobs.” He looked around for a piece of molding with which to stir it. “Besides, I like the feeling of accomplishment I get when I’ve completed something and it’s just the way I want it.” He mixed the compound with a discarded strip of wood.

  Zoe gathered two paint trays and two trowels. “You’ve done a beautiful job upstairs. I especially like the back porch.”

  He looked up at her and smiled. “I’ve noticed.” He drew a deep breath. “Today when I left—I checked out some things. Flash paid for the car with money he won in Vegas. Brett, Bowie, and Doc came up clean. And Derrick’s finances are clean, but I found out something else I want to check out more thoroughly before I share it.”

  Zoe straightened from her bent position. Her smile, soft and warm, shot straight to his groin. “I’m not going to ask how you found out about this,” she said. “Thanks for trusting me.”

  The curve of her lips drew his attention. The only thing he could think about was getting her as close as possible. He reached for her and guided her against him. He brushed away a streak of sheetrock dust from her cheek. “How about we finish this another time? We can order something to eat and climb in the hot tub.”

  Her smile faltered and she focused on his chest. She bit her bottom lip. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded weak as though she couldn’t get her breath, “All right.”

  Hooyah!

  His heartbeat leaped into a faster rhythm. He knew he was grinning like a fool. It seemed it was a night for letting down barriers.

  The doorbell rang upstairs. He bit back an oath and glanced at his watch. “Maybe we can scare off whoever that is with the threat of work.” He brushed her lips with a soft kiss.

  *

  While she waited for Hawk to return, Zoe spread a thin layer of compound along the seam where two boards of sheetrock met and applied the tape. Lord, don’t let me regret agreeing to get in the hot tub with him. Don’t let him regret it either. If he freaked out once he saw her leg, at least it wouldn’t be in a public place in front of a beach full of people.

  But Hawk wouldn’t freak out. He had too much control for that. If he went all stiff with control, she’d just back away before they got any more involved. They shouldn’t anyway. She knew they shouldn’t. As soon as the doctors declared him fit he’d be shipping out again. She pressed a hand to her stomach where a hollow feeling settled.

  “Strong Man and Marjorie have come by and brought Chinese,” Hawk said from the stairs. His expression appeared subdued. “He’s offered to help me hang the rest of the sheetrock as soon as we eat.”

  She sighed. Just when she was building her nerve up and Derrick Armstrong shows up. Something about the man rubbed her the wrong way. “I’ll put the lid on the compound can.”

  As she entered the kitchen, Zoe heard him ask Hawk, “So, are you guys still planning on the parasailing thing?” He spooned rice onto a plate.

  “Yes, we are,” Hawk said.

  “You’ll love it, Zoe,” Marjorie said as she offered her a container of Cashew Chicken.

  “I think I will, too.”

  Derrick took a bite from his plate. “I hope they don’t make some excuse that prevents you from going up because of your leg.”

  Resentment flared through Zoe, and she took a deep breath before she spoke. “My leg shouldn’t be an issue. I won’t need it to fly. I’m more at ease in the water than I am on land, so if I hit the water, I’ll be just fine.”

  “I already discussed things with the guy in charge,” Hawk said, his tone quiet and resolute. “There won’t be any problem.”

  She glanced in his direction and caught his quick smile. If Hawk got any more thoughtful and understanding, she was lost. Her attention returned to Derrick. Was she more resentful of the comment because he had posed it? Or because she was suspicious of his involvement in Brett’s accident?

  Derrick shrugged. “Sounds as though you have everything covered. I just thought it would be a really big disappointment if you got there, and they wouldn’t let you go up.”

  She forced a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate your concern.”

  The doorbell rang. Zoe motioned to Hawk to stay where he was. “I’ll get it this time.”

  Zack O’Connor, Doc, stood on the porch. For a moment, she stared at him, feelings of suspicion and betrayal ricocheting through her. Had he been the one who had hurt Brett?

  “Hey, I just thought I’d swing by a minute and see how you guys are doing.”

  His slow smile seemed so open. “Come in, Doc. Derrick and Marjorie are here. Everyone’s in the kitchen.” She shut the door behind him and led him toward the kitchen. “Have you eaten? There’s Chinese takeout.”

  “I’m good. I’ve already eaten. I wouldn’t mind a beer though.”

  “I think Hawk has some in the fridge.”

  “Hey, Doc,” Derrick greeted him, “You arrived just in time. As soon as we eat we’re going to help Hawk finish the walls in his rec room.”

  “That’s cool. I haven’t done anything more strenuous than lift my toothbrush for days. Had a bug that laid me low.”

  Zoe studied him as she handed him his beer. He did look a little pale and worn down. “We wondered where you were,” Zoe said, handing him a beer. “Maybe you should just supervise with the construction, since you’ve been sick.”

  “Naw, I’m back in the game now.” He smiled at Zoe. “So you’ve been talking and wondering about me, huh.” He ran a brief caress down her back.

  Zoe fought the urge to roll her eyes at his flirting. “You were missed by everyone at the Marks’ barbeque two nights ago.”

  “Zoe’s being nice. I didn’t miss your sorry ass at all,” Derrick said with a grin.

  Doc narrowed his eyes. “I’ll remember that the next time I treat your sorry ass for jungle rot, out in the field. That next penicillin shot might be water.”

  Their good-natured banter continued throughout the meal. After cleaning up, the entire group moved downstairs. The three men merged into a team, as they started hanging the remaining pieces of sheetrock.

  “They’re something, aren’t they?” Marjorie said from beside her as she held the paint tray for her. “All my girlfriends are crazy with envy that I’m dating Derrick, his being a SEAL and all. But they don’t know the half of it. They have these kinds of reckless, wild man images, but they like—pull together when they’re in a group, like family. Sometimes I’m even jealous of the time he spends with the guys because there’s times, when we’re together, I feel he’s closer to these guys than he is to me. I mean how close would you have to be to lay down your life for someone?”

  “They have to go into battle with one another, Marjorie. Their survival depends on their being able to work together. I suppose they have to know one another so well, they can communicate without words.”

  Marjorie shifted the tray full of sheet rock mud. “It really does something to them. Every time they ship out, Derrick comes back kind of aggressive and jumpy, like his skin doesn’t fit him anymore. It takes him about a month to get back to normal, and then I’m still walking around on egg shells with him for a while.”

  She peeled her attention away from the men to look at Zoe, her expression serious. “He’s been totally freaked about Cutter. They’ve been buddies since BUD/S, and he just can’t deal. That’s why he doesn’t come to the hospital. He’d like to call and ask you about him every once in awhile, but the whole scene that went down when he showed up at the hospital that first time has made him believe you wouldn’t welcome him calling.”

  Strong Man hadn’t thus far struck her as the sensitive soul Marjorie painted him, but Zoe hadn’t been around him enough to judge. She’d welcome his calls
if it guaranteed he wouldn’t show up at the hospital again. It might keep her brother safe. “He’s welcome to call me any time to check on Brett. I won’t mind.”

  “I told him that, but he didn’t believe me. Maybe you could tell him before we leave.”

  Zoe nodded. She scooped up more drywall mud with the trowel and spread it along a seam. “All right.”

  Marjorie helped her position a ladder close to the wall and held it steady, while Zoe climbed it. Zoe hooked the paint pan onto the ladder and scooped more mud.

  “Where did you learn to do this?” Marjorie asked.

  “My brother taught me. When he’s home he likes to do things around the house, like Hawk. He says it helps him relax. My dad did, too.”

  “Was he in the military, too?”

  “Yes, a career Marine. He was killed in Desert Storm by friendly fire.”

  “Jesus,” Marjorie breathed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks,” She swallowed against the immediate thickness in her throat. Even after so long, it hurt.

  “And now Cutter’s hurt, and you’re with Hawk. How do you deal with all that?”

  She wasn’t exactly with Hawk, and she wasn’t certain she ever would be, but she wasn’t sharing that with a stranger. “You love them, despite their need to risk themselves. You don’t really have a choice. You can’t pick and choose who you love, can you?”

  Her own words resonated. Did she love Hawk? She looked over to where he and the men worked. She studied him. His brows were drawn together in concentration, his pale gray eyes focused on the task at hand. With his lips pressed together in a thin line he looked intent and determined. Would he approach an emotional attachment with as much fervor? How would a woman go about inspiring that kind of response from him? She pressed her hand against the hollow sensation the thoughts triggered.

  “No, you can’t.” Marjorie’s reply had her shifting her attention back to the woman in time to see an expression of sadness flicker across her face.

  Finished with the strip from ceiling to mid-wall, Zoe climbed down the ladder. She stepped off the last rung and lost her balance. Grabbing at the ladder to stabilize herself, she caught Marjorie’s bell-shaped sleeve along with it. The other woman sucked in her breath and grimaced in pain.