SEALed With a Twist

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

  Grant raked both hands through his hair and locked them behind his neck as he glared at the ceiling right about Skye’s head.

  God save him from well-meaning friends.

  “What do you want?”

  “What do I want?!” she repeated, incredulous.

  “Yeah, babe, you flew cross-country and broke into my house—I don’t give a shit if you do have a key—for a reason. What. Do. You. Want.”

  She stared at him, pretty blue eyes wide and confused and pissed.

  He guessed she went with pissed when she took the three steps that separated them and whacked him across the face.

  “What the hell does it take for you to leave a goddamn note?!”

  Skye cradled her stinging hand.

  God that hurt.

  She suspected hitting Grant hurt her more than him, and she wasn’t even talking emotional pain. That she’d been living with for two months, ever since she’d woken up to find him gone.

  Again.

  Lord, she was an idiot.

  He’d barely flinched, though his head swung left from sheer force since she’d put her weight behind her swing, like her new boxing instructor had taught her.

  That was something at least.

  Incensed, Skye flounced over to his sub-zero fridge and yanked open the freezer door. A swift search of drawers produced two dishcloths. She plopped a scoop of ice from the bucket in each cloth and wrapped them up, all while ranting.

  “I can’t believe you had the unmitigated gall to pull this crap on me again. What was the problem this time? Afraid you might be too happy and have to give up wallowing in your self-guilt and loathing? Here.” She smacked one of the dishcloths against his chest, forcing him to grab it before cubes spilled onto the floor. “Put that on your face.”

  “Careful, Skye,” he rumbled, even as he raised the ice to his cheek.

  “Pshaw,” she scoffed. “Like you would hurt me.” He jerked back, like she’d stuck him again, but Skye was on a roll. “It’s too late, Grant. You can’t pull the surly bruiser, badass Navy SEAL crap with me anymore.” She leaned forward, too furious to heed the warning light in his eyes. “I know you. And you are not fooling me with this shit.

  “Now I’ve been here five minutes and already you’ve driven me to violence and swearing, and let me tell you, those are not components of the Grant Sisti experience I’m particularly keen to emulate. We are sorting this mess of ours out here, right now, or so help me, you will regret it for the rest of your life!”

  She eased back and put the second cloth of ice on her hand as she caught her breath while he glared at her.

  Well.

  That hadn’t gone exactly to plan.

  Not that she’d had a plan.

  Skye hadn’t known what to expect when she saw Grant again. Two months and more than 3,000 miles of hard soul searching and fretting had brought her no closer to what to say to get through to him.

  Jasper thought it a lost cause. “I love the man,” he’d said when she’d shown up on the doorstep of their Tampa condo, miserable and broken, too ravaged to even cry but sure she had to do something or go mad. “And yeah, for the first time, I’d say he seems ready to turn a corner with the whole Maverick deal. That doesn’t mean his head isn’t seriously fucked up.” He’d leaned those, Skye had to admit, superior arms on the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room in their condo. “You sure you want to take that on?”

  “Jasper!” Quinn had admonished. “Are you trying to scare her off?”

  “Babe, she should know what she’s getting into.”

  “I think I’ve got a good idea,” Skye had interjected before she had to witness a full on marital spat. “He had a nightmare.” That’d shut both of her friends up quick. “Our last night. I heard him wake from it. I mean, I was really out of it, but he shouted ‘Maverick!’ and, well, even traumatized from being kidnapped, I couldn’t sleep through that.”

  Quinn had reached out to clasp her husband’s forearm. Only then did Skye notice it was clenched tight and bulging.

  “I’m sorry,” she’d whispered. “Should I stop?”

  “It’s all right,” Quinn had assured her and Skye kept her gaze on her friend so as not to make Jasper feel any more exposed. ““Did Twist tell you about it?”

  Skye had had to confess, “I acted like I was asleep. He’s told me a lot, some I’m not sure if he’s even shared with you,” she said to Jasper, whose jaw was locked tight, but he was paying attention. “But…we’re still new. We were still new. I thought he’d be embarrassed that I saw him like that. Feel like it was some sort of weakness. I was going to ask him about it in the morning, when he maybe wouldn’t feel quite so…vulnerable. But he left before I woke up.”

  It sounded like a stupid excuse to her, but Jasper’s hazel eyes had been sharp on her. “You made the right call,” he finally allowed. “It’s not your fault he couldn’t deal. Probably thought he was protecting you from himself or some shit.”

  “What a concept,” Quinn had murmured dryly, earning a hot look from her husband.

  “I won’t lie and tell you it’s gonna be easy. Quinn’ll tell you there’s shit that dicks with me in the middle of the night. But I got the weapons to deal with it now, and one huge part of that arsenal is having a woman beside me who loves me and is willing and able to handle that shit. You and Twist might not have the time in yet, but you’ve shared some serious shit together already. If those are bonds that can hold when tested, then you’re who I want for my boy. You’re who he needs.”

  Jasper’s arm shot out then to tag Skye behind the head and yank her forward so he could press a kiss to her forehead. “Go get ‘em, babe.”

  Now here she was, trying to “get him”.

  Even if her biggest obstacle was the man himself.

  Grant hadn’t spoken since she’d struck him. He leaned back against the sink, dishcloth of ice absently held to his cheek, glare fixed on her.

  But Skye was fighting for keeps and not about to let his nonsense get in her way.

  She gathered her composure, smoothing her dark red, V-neck blouse as she mirrored his pose, leaning back against the island. Her black, knee-length skirt shifted a few inches north as she did and Skye hid a satisfied smirk when Grant’s eyes went right for her exposed thighs.

  “Why did you leave?

  “You didn’t need me,” he gritted out. “I’m no lawyer. Couldn’t help you with figuring out that shit with the will. And I was needed here. Only had leave till that Monday. Any longer and I would’ve been written up as AWOL.”

  “You couldn’t tell me all that. Say, in a note? Or called or emailed me or something in the two months since?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want from me, Skye? We had an intense weekend together. You sorted some shit for me and I’m grateful. I helped you over the first hump of your grandmother’s death. We got a second chance for some great sex, this time sober. You’re a fabulous lay. Never had better. But that’s not a relationship, sweetheart. We live on opposite coasts. Did you really see this going anywhere long term?” He clicked his tongue at her and she nearly snarled at the patronizing scold. “Come on. You’re smarter than that.”

  “Yes, I am,” she agreed, wanting to throttle him. “Smart enough to know all of that is total bull crap. You told me you wanted more. Did you forget about that? You said you weren’t in it to bang away your trauma. I’m holding you to that.” Once again, she mirrored him, crossing her arms as she pulled out the big guns, thinking Jasper better be right about this as she did.

  “I’m in love with you, Grant. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Grant wanted to kiss her.

  No, that wasn’t right. He wanted to reach across the distance between them, lift her onto the island, shove that fucking tight skirt up and her panties down and show Skye exactly how much her declaration of love meant to him.

  Instead, he stood two feet apart from her
and used every ounce of his training not to touch her.

  “No, you don’t,” he told her. “You want me. Sex isn’t love, you just don’t have enough experience to know it.”

  He’d managed to piss her off again. “I may have kept the highlights, but don’t treat me like a dumb blonde,” she snapped.

  He’d noticed. She was more coifed and polished than she’d been on Barefoot Bay, hair streaming down her back now with softer, less brassy highlights, professionally styled if he had to guess. He recognized the high quality of her clothes, but the style was her own, not the respectable lines of the suit she’d worn that last day, nor the casual threads of a resort employee. It was as if she’d blended her personas—the drunken debutante and the thrifty maid—into a third version of herself that was both and more. Something new and familiar.

  “Skylark,” he murmured looking her over with a deliberate leer. “Looks like you landed on your feet.”

  “No thanks to you.”

  “I told you, I couldn’t help you with the lawyers. Not my scene.”

  “That wasn’t a problem when you promised to go with me. When I told you, I didn’t want to handle it alone, you promised to be by my side. Why did you lie?”

  “I didn’t lie,” he said, pushed to denial. “Things changed for me.”

  “How?”

  Christ, why wouldn’t she let this go?

  “Skye, for fuck’s sake, I am trying to spare you!” He flung his arms wide to indicate all he was. “This is all there is sweetheart. A beat up soldier whose head may never be screwed on straight. People have always dicked you around. You almost wound up a prisoner for the rest of your life because of your grandmother’s final attempt to mold you how she wanted you.

  “You deserve more. You’ve done your time. You deserve a beautiful life that doesn’t involve being saddled with someone like me.”

  “So, what, you’re taking away the man I love to protect me?”

  When she said it like that, it sounded as stupid as it was, which made Grant lose it.

  He threw the towel of ice across the room and roared, “Goddamn it, Skye! I was late! AGAIN! Too late for you. I misjudged that guy, badly. Thought he was a rich prick, but no real danger outside of a boardroom. I got it wrong, just like with Maverick, and this time you paid the price for it. You had to save yourself from that douchebag asswipe and lovely—”

  Unable to keep from touching her any longer, he clasped her neck between his hands and drew her in close to his body, sheltering her the way he’d failed to do two months ago. She grabbed his wrists, not to push him away, but to keep him close.

  “Swear to you, baby, I was so proud. You stood up for yourself and didn’t let that fucker win. All that time, you weren’t hiding at Casa Blanca. You were figuring out the crazy brave, kind, generous, sweet, strong, amazing woman you’ve always been. It was that woman who stepped up and saved herself even though you had to be scared out of your mind. And she—is—magnificent.

  “But I should’ve been there for you. You’re right. I promised to be there with you. I promised you were safe with me. And maybe you didn’t blow your own head off, but I still could’ve lost you. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take again.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of Skye’s eyes, making tracks through her makeup as they trailed down her cheeks. But when she spoke, her words were not ones Grant expected.

  “Oh my god, you are such a head case.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on his arm, which, fuck him, was all kinds of cute and a little bit gross. “You have got to give yourself a break. You are the only one who thinks you have to be in all places at all times to be all things to all people. God, just imagining it gives me a headache! No wonder you have nightmares.”

  Hands on her shoulders, Grant set her back three steps, needing the distance to wrap his mind around her latest revelation. “How do you know about my nightmares?”

  “I was awake,” she admitted. “That last night when you woke from one, I was awake.” Her eyes softened with compassion. “It looked like a bad one. I thought you’d want some space and privacy, so I pretended to sleep. Though I’ll warn you now, I am not leaving you to deal with them on your own again.”

  “I could’ve hurt you,” he insisted. “I had my gun in my hand and I could’ve hurt you.”

  “Well, maybe we need to start with you not sleeping with a gun in the nightstand and go from there,” she allowed, like it was no more a big deal than deciding who got which side of the bed.

  A sliver of hope knifed through his chest. “We?”

  She took two of those steps back to him. “Grant, honey, I know you’re a badass SEAL, but, Aquaman similarities aside, you are not a superhero. Okay, well, maybe you are given you jump out of planes and rescue people from terrorists and stuff like that. But you’re still human. And here’s a newsflash I think you’ve yet to learn, even after some pretty awful things: not even you can save everyone.” She grabbed one of his hands and lifted it to her mouth to press a kiss in his palm before holding it to her damp cheek. “But I do love that you want to try.”

  “Skye,” he managed around the burn in his chest. “I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

  “You would never hurt me,” she vowed with a confidence that escaped him. “Never. I sleep easy beside you, not because I’m emotionally exhausted or traumatized or had too much sangria. Because you’re by my side and I know nothing, not one thing, can get to me while you’re there.

  “Life is life, honey, and sometimes it’s going to hit us both where it hurts. But I’ve had two months dealing with some of the worst things in my life without you, and not one minute of those two months has felt half as good as the last fifteen with you.”

  She released his hand and bumped his arms out of her way so she could wrap hers around his neck. Her body flush to his with all of her curves pressed tight against him, her words ringing in his ears, Grant knew he was a goner.

  Why the hell was he fighting it?

  He shoved a hand in her hair, gleefully messing up her tidy style. She made a sharp sound of relief as his tongue invaded her mouth, reclaiming what was his.

  “I’m in love with you,” he managed when he let her up for air.

  “No shit?” she said and he laughed, actually laughed when an hour ago, he’d been sure he’d lost the best thing ever to happen to him.

  Vibrating with happiness, Skye leaned in for another kiss. “I really love it when you do that,” she murmured against his mouth.

  Keeping their mouths fused, Grant backed her up till her ass hit the island. He boosted her up and shoved her skirt high so her legs could spread for him.

  “Stay right there, lovely.” He had her black, satin panties in his hand a second later and stared at them with appreciation.

  A Cheshire cat smile curved her wet, glistening mouth. “I may have made a few other wardrobe changes.”

  “Merry Christmas to me.” He whipped her top off in the next second and found the matching lace and satin bra that, God love her, was translucent. Skye’s dusky nipples showed through the fabric, rigid and so eager, he bent and sucked breast and cloth together into his mouth.

  “Not gonna be able to go slow this time, sweetheart,” he muttered when he switched breasts, pulling her bra down to get his mouth on her bare tit.

  “Make it up to me later.” She reached over his shoulders to yank his shirt from his jeans and get her hands on his skin.

  Grant’s hands slid up the backs of her bare thighs to find her wet and warm, slick under his fingers as he flicked her clit before getting two fingers inside her. His head came up when she moaned, clearing the way for Skye to deal with his belt buckle.

  She unzipped his jeans and pulled his raging erection out into her eager hands. “Condom, baby,” she whispered. He grunted as her thumb traced his crown, sending what little blood was left in his head speeding south to his dick. He released her long enough to fish out his wallet and snag a condom.

  S
kye nimbly snatched it from his fingers, tearing the wrapper with her teeth, one hand firm on his goods while she did. Grant gritted his teeth as she wrapped him up, then knocked her hands away. She laughed and clutched his shoulders as he found her entrance and pushed all the way in.

  Her arms switched to hold his head and his face was in her neck as he slid home. “Yessss,” she hissed in his ear. She tugged his head back so their eyes could meet and his heart exploded when she whispered, “Welcome home, love.”

  She was that and more to him. Water nymph. High-class lady. His safe haven. His heart and soul and the hope that maybe one day he’d be worthy of the gift she was so intent on giving him.

  “Hey,” she called softly. “It’s okay.” She kissed him sweet. “We’re going to be okay.”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “I won’t leave you again,” he promised. “Not like that.”

  Her smile was soft, passion banked for the moment as she reassured her man. “I know, but even if you do, even if it feels too much or you think you need to scrape me off to save me, I won’t ever let you go, Grant. I’m keeping you right here with me. I promise, I’ll get you home again. Every time.” She got a good grip on his hair and gave his head a shake as she ordered, “Though, next time, lieutenant, leave a note.”

  He barked out a laugh then got back to making up for being a dumbass. He vowed then and there to show his woman all she meant to him if he had to spend the rest of his life doing it.

  Ready to seal that vow…with a twist.

  THE END

  About Kiersten Hallie Krum

  Kiersten Hallie Krum is the author of the prestigious RONE award finalist, WILD ON THE ROCKS, and its follow-up SEALed WTH A TWIST. She is also a past winner of the Emily Award for unpublished novelists. Kiersten graduated from Gordon College where she majored in both history and English, including a year's study at Oxford University, which means she's knows a little bit about a lot of things concerning people long dead. She also completed a minor in theater for which she performed a one-woman show. Kiersten graduated from New York University with a Master of Publishing.