SEAL Dearest (Navy SEAL Brotherhood Romance Love Story)

by Ivy Jordan

  “I took some time off,” he smiled, not offering up any more reasoning.

  I didn’t push. It wasn’t my business unless he wanted to tell me. If only he was so subtle when pushing into my life.

  “Ready to get started?” I held the nails up in my hand.

  “Sure,” he hesitated.

  I liked it better when Liam and I worked together and didn’t do as much talking. My nightmares had calmed down, and he’d mentioned that he noticed, but I didn’t tell him why. I fell asleep each night to the same dream that pulled me from the nightmare over a week ago. Bailey waited on a sandy beach, her long red hair blowing in the wind, and the moon light glistening off her skin. It was sweet, calming, and helped keep the flashes of light, screaming men, and feeling of doom from looming over me while I slept.

  Liam grabbed the ladder from the shed, propping it up against the cabin. I climbed up, stared down the mountain, and had that sinking feeling that Bailey needed me, and I was letting her down.

  “Throw me those nails,” I called down.

  The brown paper bag of nails was sent flying up over my head, landing behind me on the peak of the roof.

  I picked them up, gripping the hammer from my tool belt, and walked the roof carefully searching for loosened or missing nails.

  The wind had done a number on the old roof, probably not just from the last storm, but years of storms before it. Liam popped up from the ladder with a hammer of his own and started on the opposite side while I slammed lifted nails back down into the wood.

  The sun was beating hard, causing me to work up a sweat quickly. The more I swung my hammer, the harder I tried to forget, but the more I remembered. Fuck, this wasn’t working.

  A couple hours slowly inched by, and as I swung my hammer to bury the last nail, Liam was already headed down the ladder.

  “I’m ready to catch some damn fish,” he boasted.

  “Me too,” I agreed, gathering my supplies, and following him down the ladder.

  “Wow, it got warm,” Liam roared.

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the edge of my t-shirt, and then shook my long hair to splatter the sweat towards Liam.

  “Why don’t you get a fuckin’ haircut?” he teased.

  “I like my hair,” I argued.

  “Just because you live in the mountains, it doesn’t mean you have to look like you live in the fuckin’ mountains,” he snarled as he wiped my sweat from his arms.

  “You’re just jealous because you can’t grow hair,” I laughed.

  Liam rubbed his hand over his bald head that was pretty red from the sun.

  “I can grow hair. I just choose to shave it,” he hissed.

  We continued our razzing as we gathered fishing poles from the shed. We walked towards the creek, picking June bugs, tree worms, and beetles along the way for bait.

  Liam sat on the side of the water, working on setting up his hook, but I wasn’t ready to fish, not yet. I stripped off my shirt, and then kicked off my shoes. His eyes lifted to me as I pushed my jeans off and headed towards the water.

  “Hey,” he called out a little too late.

  I was already in the water, dipping underneath to wash the sweat from my skin and hair. It was cold, really fuckin’ cold, but it felt amazing none the less.

  “You’re a crazy fucker, ya know that?” Liam laughed.

  I let out a howl like a wolf into the sunlit sky and then shook my head violently to splatter Liam with the cold creek water.

  “You’ve scared off all the fish,” he scoffed as I walked from the water.

  “Nah, I just brought in the big ones with my large bait,” I teased, swinging my hips so my cock slapped against my thighs.

  Liam rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, more like made the small ones with your inch worm,” he snorted.

  Okay, fair enough, but it was cold. I quickly dressed to warm back up and sat down beside Liam to work on my rig.

  “I can see why you love it out here,” he admitted.

  It was the first time anyone had given me that credit, acknowledging that I wasn’t completely crazy for loving the seclusion of nature.

  “Thanks, brother, that means a lot,” I patted him on the back.

  We sat, not talking much, our poles in the water. Liam was right; I’d scared off anything worth eating. He reeled in a few crawdads, and we finally decided to call it quits.

  “You really should clear out some trees,” he noted.

  “Now you’re putting yourself to work,” I laughed. “You really don’t want to go home, do ya?”

  He grumbled something I couldn’t make out as he pushed past the brush to get to the cabin.

  “I don’t want to make it easy for anyone to find me,” I pointed out as he grabbed the chainsaw.

  “Just a path to the creek, hell, nobody’s coming all the way out here,” he chuckled, pulling the chain and starting up the old tool.

  I didn’t argue. He was right. It would be nice to have a better path to the creek. My back and arms were scratched all to hell from the thin branches that clung to me as we pushed through.

  I grabbed an old pair of clippers from the shed and followed him back towards the path. He didn’t waste much time before going crazy on a couple trees, ones that must’ve got him on the way to the fishing hole. I stayed behind, clipping small branches and clearing a nice path for our next trip. It was nice thinking about him staying a while. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t looking forward to being alone again.

  “Damn, I need to jump in that creek again,” I gasped, falling onto the small hill near the rippling water.

  Liam sat down beside me, taking a break from all our hard work. “So, do you plan on staying out here forever?” he asked.

  I stared up at the clouds through the trees. They were turning dark again.

  “I think we’re gonna get another storm,” I noted, ignoring his question.

  “Seriously, is this your life plan?” he pushed.

  I shrugged.

  “How long you staying out here?” I turned the questioning back to him.

  “There’s a part of me that would like to forever. But, ya know, you aren’t that good lookin’, and I’ll eventually get lonely,” he teased.

  I slapped him on the shoulder as I got up, extending my hand to his to help him to his feet.

  “You aren’t no Georgia peach yourself,” I laughed.

  “So I’ll go home when I get lonely. What do you plan on doing when you get tired of being alone and want female companionship?” he teased.

  “I guess wait for another one to fall on my path,” I joked.

  “Oh, so you gonna set out some traps?” Liam roared.

  “Maybe,” I smirked and headed towards the cabin.

  Liam peeled potatoes, chopped them into small pieces, and diced up an onion while I took a quick shower. When I got back into the kitchen, he’d already put the food in an iron skillet, and the aroma was causing my stomach to growl with hunger.

  “When did you learn to cook?” I asked.

  “It was part of my therapy,” he admitted freely and without any signs of embarrassment.

  I found it odd that he was so open about his therapy. It wasn’t something we’d ever talked about, and it wasn’t something I thought I’d want to share if I were him.

  “Cooking?” I scoffed.

  “Sure. It helps soothe my nerves, and it gives me purpose. I actually spend more time at night thinking about recipes, than I do the past,” he stated.

  “I’ve been thinking about Bailey to help me sleep,” I confessed.

  “Oh yeah, how so?” he asked, a genuine interest showing in his expression.

  He stirred the potatoes as I worked on seasoning the steaks he’d brought. I told him about the nightmare, how I was lost at sea. It was the first time I’d had a nightmare that didn’t relate to actual incidents. He was interested in everything I said, listening intensely as I described the beach, the moonlight, and that feeling
of safety.

  “That’s great,” he encouraged, patting me hard on the back.

  It actually felt good to open up to him.

  “She may very well be your life preserver. You’d be stupid to push her away in this wild storm you’re drowning in,” he winked.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Thirty

  Bailey

  The hospital bed in my dad’s room had been stripped of all the linens, and his medications were all packaged in the leather case he’d used. I sat there in his room, staring around at all the pictures that lined his dresser, his nightstand, and hung on his walls. Most were of him when he was younger, with his old Navy buddies or with my mom.

  I started to cry at the thought of not having many recent pictures of him, of how I remembered him before he fallen ill.

  “Knock, knock,” Joy, the hospice nurse hired to care for my dad, poorly mimicked a doorbell as she made her way into the house.

  She appeared in the doorway, her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun and the wrinkles deep in her forehead from the stress of her job. She said she loved it, but I knew it couldn’t be easy to lose a patient every few weeks, sometimes more. I did appreciate her smile and her kindness through the week that she cared for my dad. He enjoyed her visits and always had a joke to crack whenever she entered the room.

  “How are you doing?” she asked, looking around.

  I shrugged. “It’s weird with him gone,” I admitted.

  “He was an alley cat, that’s for sure. I bet it’s pretty quiet now,” she smiled.

  I nodded, fighting back the tears. I was tired of crying, and I knew my dad wouldn’t want me sitting here sulking. He was happy with my mom in the arms of his love, and he wished only the same for me.

  “I noticed a large backpack in the living room. Are you going somewhere?” Joy asked, sitting beside me on the bed.

  “I thought about taking a hike in the mountains,” I sighed, not ready to admit my real reason for the trip to anyone.

  “Didn’t you have a pretty bad experience last time?” she gasped.

  It was a small town, so obviously word had spread pretty quickly about the teacher who got stuck on the mountainside with the hermit.

  “I wouldn’t say it was bad,” I smiled.

  “You’re one tough cookie. Your daddy told me you were the strongest woman he’d ever met,” she winked.

  “I don’t know if I’m going or not yet. I just packed, so if I decide to go I’m ready,” I stated.

  “Well, the clouds look dark, and they were talking about another storm, so be careful,” she warned.

  She got up and walked towards the nightstand, picking up the leather bag of medication. She pulled a red folder from her briefcase, placing it on the bed. I watched as she opened it, sorting through papers until finding the one she wanted. Her nails were perfectly manicured, painted pink to match her lips. I wondered how she found time to care for her nails with such a hard job. I looked down at my own nails, broken, chipped, and without polish. I hadn’t done anything for myself since I’d returned home and was in desperate need of a day at the spa.

  “I just need to go through the medication with you and have you sign a release,” she stated.

  With each bottle she pulled from the bag, she would read the name, the dosage, and then count how many pills were left before writing it down on her sheet.

  “Do you want to keep the medication or have us dispose of it for you?” she asked.

  “Dispose of it for me, please,” I smiled.

  I didn’t want to see the orange and white bottles all over the house. It made me feel like dad should still be there, and it gave me knots in my stomach when I had to realize he wasn’t and never would be again. He was gone.

  “Okay, just sign here,” she handed me the paper and a pen.

  I signed my name, took a deep breath, and swallowed hard to rid the lump in my throat.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” Joy asked sweetly.

  I shook my head. I stood to see her out, extending my hand to offer thanks, but she pulled me into her full breasts, squeezing me tightly as if we’d been best friends for years. It was nice, soothing, and even though at first a little awkward, I didn’t fight it.

  “You can call me if you need anything,” she added, handing me a card with her number before she made her exit.

  I fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I watched the fan spin round and round, creating shadows on the walls with each turn. My thoughts drifted to my dad and everything he’d said to me over the last week. His words were the reason I’d packed a bag, ready to make the trip up the mountain to Xander, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually walk out of the front door.

  My phone buzzed, pulling me back to reality. I slid my finger across the answer button when I noticed Lila’s name on the screen.

  “Hey, I just saw Joy leave. You okay?” she asked.

  “I’m okay,” I sighed.

  “Do you want some help cleaning up his room?” she offered.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I admitted.

  “I was going to bring you some lunch,” she suggested.

  My stomach had been growling all morning, but I ignored it to tend to other things. I packed my backpack full with essentials just in case, like flashlights, lighters, food, water, a tent, and plenty of warm clothes.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I asserted.

  “Nonsense. I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” she insisted.

  I knew she’d push me to make the trip up the mountain, so I didn’t fight her. I needed that push.

  I was still lying on my dad’s bed when Lila came through the door. I heard her yelling for me as she traveled through the house, but didn’t answer.

  “There you are,” she gushed, rolling her eyes as she stared at my lump of an image on the stripped bed.

  “C’mon, let’s eat,” she insisted, moving towards me with her hand extended.

  I let her held me up and to my feet, and then followed her into the kitchen. She held a speckled blue pot with oven mitts, and the smell tugged at my hunger pains.

  “Clam chowder?” I chirped, hopeful she’d remembered it was my favorite.

  “Of course,” she grinned, placing the pot on the small iron rack in the center of the kitchen table.

  She grabbed a couple bowls from the cabinet, and then two large spoons before sitting down beside me.

  I opened the lid, and the smell was intoxicating as it wafted out of the pot from the steam. I scooped a large ladle full and poured it into one of the bowls and then repeated the process for the other.

  The bowl warmed my cold hands as I pulled it towards me, quickly pushing my spoon into it and bringing that first bite to my mouth.

  “You’re amazing,” I moaned.

  “Oh yeah, if I’m so amazing, why wouldn’t you tell me you’re leaving?” she questioned.

  I froze in front of her, my expression chiseled like stone on my face.

  “I-er-uh,” I stammered, struggling for what to say.

  “Okay, so you didn’t tell me, so tell me now. Where are you going?” she asked.

  “I don’t know if I’m going anywhere. It was a stupid idea,” I scoffed.

  I lifted the spoon filled with the delicious chowder to my mouth, unable to stop eating even with Lila grilling me. I should’ve told her.

  “Where are you not going because it’s stupid?” she pushed.

  My cheeks started to burn, and I knew I was blushing. Making eye contact with Lila was making me giggle nervously, and it was growing obvious by her expression that she knew exactly where I wasn’t going.

  “This is about Xander?” she questioned with a wide smile.

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  I slurped up another spoonful of the chowder, my eyes remaining in the bowl and not on Lila.

  “You were going to climb up that damn mountain again without telling anyone where you were? Have you not learned your lesson?” s
he scolded.

  I shrugged.

  “Bailey, that’s dangerous,” she shrieked. “But so romantic,” she cooed.

  I laughed at her bouncing emotions.

  “I packed an extra battery for my phone, a signal booster, and even a long range walkie-talkie, and I was leaving one here with a note for you,” I groveled.

  “Are you fuckin’ serious?” she gasped.

  I got up from the table, grabbed the walkie-talkie, and the note and set it on the table in front of her.

  “See?” I pleaded.

  “Bailey, a note? Why didn’t you talk to me about this, and why are you saying you’re not going?” she whined.

  “It was a spontaneous decision, one I made late last night. I couldn’t sleep, and this house, fuck, this house was making me nuts it’s so quiet. I figured I’d leave early, and I didn’t want to wake you,” I explained.

  “So what’s changed your mind?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I think I was just lonely, and for some reason, I thought that Xander could make me feel better, but he can’t. It’s selfish of me to go up and expect him to console me,” I went on.

  “I think it’s a great idea, but maybe not today,” she warned.

  “Why not today?” I groaned.

  “The weather doesn’t look so great,” she pointed out, motioning out the window with her nose to the black clouds covering the sun.

  “I checked the radar. It looks like it’s to the west of us,” I insisted.

  “So now you want to go?” she chuckled.

  “I don’t know what I want. I know my dad told me I needed love and that he would want me to go after it,” I sighed.

  “What do you want?” she pushed.

  “I want Xander,” I smirked.

  “Then you should go,” she winked.

  I continued scooping up the chowder, thinking of what she’d said with each bite. I wanted her to come push me, and push me she did. What was I waiting for? Better weather? This was Maine; there may never be a promise of great weather.

  “Okay, I’m going,” I boasted, leaning back in my chair with a full belly.

  “You just have to promise me you’ll be careful,” she pleaded.

  “I will. Can I bring this chowder?” I smiled, already out of my seat and looking for a sealed bowl.