Trusting a Warrior

by Melanie Hansen

  “Your support system is here,” Matt was saying. “Your pain doc. Your school.”

  She gave an internal wince. Finally accepting that he wouldn’t be suitable for an operational command, Shane announced one night that he was seeking a medical discharge from the Navy and would enroll in the SDSU occupational therapy program, his ultimate goal to work with wounded warriors living with traumatic brain injuries.

  “I can transfer schools. I’m willing to do whatever it takes—”

  “To what? To make sure I’m living out my dream?” Matt waved his arm. “What about your dreams? Your happiness? Your well-being? You honestly think none of that matters to me?”

  Shane’s face softened. “Of course I think it matters.”

  “Then let me show you how much it matters. How much you matter. It’s not a grand gesture, it’s me saying that I don’t need DEVGRU to feel complete, but I do need you.”

  Putting his coffee cup down, Matt slid into Shane’s lap and draped his arms around his neck. “You’re going to be my husband long after I’m done being a SEAL. At least, I hope you will.”

  “Oh, you know you’re never getting rid of me.” Shane lifted his face and they shared a lingering kiss, his fingertips drawing tiny circles on Matt’s bare back.

  Heaving a deep sigh, Matt finally moved from Shane’s lap, picked up his coffee again and headed into the house. “Guess we’d better get going.”

  As soon as he’d gone, Shane leapt to his feet. “Okay. We’re headed to the base to work out with the platoon and run the O-course, and then Rhys and Devon are meeting us at the courthouse at two to act as witnesses. Ceremony’s supposed to be at three. You’ll get everything set up here?”

  “I’ve got it all under control,” she assured him. “Geo’s taken Aidan out for the day, and then he’ll drop him at our babysitter’s in time to be back for the big surprise.”

  “Good.” Shane slid his arm around her shoulders. “I’m getting married today, oh, my God!” His voice sounded a little squeaky with nerves, and she gave him a squeeze.

  “Yep, you are, and you need to get going. Don’t worry about a thing here, just enjoy.”

  After he’d followed Matt into the house, she hurried back to her own house next door and called Grizz’s wife. “They’re leaving now,” she hissed. “Operation Surprise Reception is a go.”

  Half an hour later, armed with her spare key, Lani let an excited group of team wives into Matt and Shane’s house, and left them to decorate while she hurried home to cook. By the time the team guys started to show up with kegs of beer and the other assorted liquor needed for any good SEAL event, the counters were groaning with all of the grooms’ favorite foods.

  Geo burst in not long after. “Aidan’s with the sitter,” he said breathlessly. “She’ll drop him off in the morning.”

  With nothing critical to come out of the oven, she wandered into the bathroom where he stood shaving at the sink, and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

  “Love you,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

  His eyes met hers in the mirror. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself tonight,” he murmured, and heat sparked down low, making her squirm.

  Splaying her palms over his ridged abs, she pressed closer, letting him feel the way her nipples jutted through the thin fabric of her blouse. “Can’t wait to be yours tonight,” she whispered back. When he groaned, she let go of him and sauntered away, his sigh of longing echoing in her ears.

  Next door, it was a boisterous group both inside and outside the house. The gate was thrown open between the two yards in preparation, some music was turned on, and half-drunk, giggling team guys roamed the neighborhood doing Matt and Shane “recon.”

  At last one of them checked his phone and hollered, “One minute out!”

  A couple of snickering dudes arrayed themselves on either side of the gate between the houses, each shaking what looked to be bottles of champagne. The music was lowered just in time for her to hear a deep voice on the other side of the fence say, “I thought you said Lani and Geo invited us for cake at their house...”

  A murmured reply, and then Matt and Shane walked into the backyard from Lani’s side. Matt’s eyes widened. “What’s this...?” Before he could finish getting the words out, a blast of champagne caught him right in the face.

  “Congratulations!”

  Loud cheers echoed in the waning light as champagne continued to drench both of them. Matt sputtered and coughed while Shane laughed, a steadying arm going around Matt’s waist.

  Using his hands as a megaphone, Grizz shouted, “Hey, fellas. Did you do it?”

  “Yeah, did you do it? Did you do it?” Everyone else took up the chant, the volume escalating, until Shane raised his left hand to display a black ring encircling his finger.

  “We did it!”

  Immediately they were surrounded by their friends, who pounded their backs and grabbed them up in gigantic hugs, one laughing Black dude named Smudge refusing to let go as he walked around with Matt, whose feet dangled helplessly off the ground.

  “Um, I’d like my husband back, please,” Shane requested politely, the grin he was sporting threatening to split his face in two. With a grunt, Smudge dropped Matt like a bag of rocks, but then pulled him close one more time and scrubbed his knuckles over his hair.

  “So happy for you, man,” Lani could hear him say. “It’s about time.”

  More champagne was opened and poured—with sparkling cider for anyone who didn’t drink, including Matt—and the toasts commenced. Some were irreverent, some were bawdy and inappropriate, which left the whole group in stitches. Finally Shane raised his glass.

  “Thanks, everyone, for being here tonight. I know this day has been a long time coming, but we did it. We finally did it!”

  Laughter and cheers all around, and then Matt lifted his glass. “Y’all punked me,” he said fiercely. “I thought I’d gotten my way with the city hall thing, and then I come home to find this shit.” He paused. “Thank you.”

  Some scattered applause, some insults, before Matt shouted above the din. “I want to say something else, something I don’t say nearly often enough.” He put his glass down and turned to Shane. “I love you.”

  His eyes shining, Shane leaned down for a kiss, but Matt wasn’t done. “From the first moment I met you, clown, you got under my skin. You pissed me off. There were days I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to kiss you, or punch you, or both.”

  “Oh, you definitely wanted to punch me.” Shane slid his arm around Matt’s waist. “Repeatedly.”

  “I tried so fucking hard not to want you,” Matt went on. “I kept pushing you away, pushing you away, convinced there was no room for you in my life.” Reaching out, he took Shane’s left hand in his, and lifted it to his lips. “Thanks for not letting me,” he whispered against his ring. “For not giving up on me. I’m so lucky—and so goddamn happy—to be yours.”

  With a choked exclamation, Shane cupped his chin with gentle fingers and kissed him. “I love you.” Then he grinned. “Mushy Matt.”

  “Annnd of course you had to go and ruin it,” Matt grunted in mock disgust, even as he twined his arms around Shane’s neck. “Fuckin’ clown.”

  After that, the music was turned back up to a deafening level, beer cups were filled to the brim, and the SEALs settled in to party.

  Devon slipped over to Lani at one point and pressed a folded ten-dollar bill into her hand. “He didn’t cry,” she said, her tone dripping with disgust. “Cool as a damn cucumber.”

  Before she could saunter off, Lani grabbed her arm and hissed in her ear, “You’re next, lady.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Devon towed her into the shadows next to the garage. “Well, we, uh, actually got married three months ago. In Vegas.”

  “What?”

  “Don�
�t be mad,” Devon pleaded. “We were there, and we’d wandered into this cheesy little chapel. All of a sudden Rhys pulls a ring box from his backpack and says something like, ‘I’m tired of carrying this around, waiting for the perfect moment. Here.’”

  Lani gasped. “He didn’t. Tell me he didn’t say ‘Here’ and shove your engagement ring in your face.” She looked wildly around for Rhys. “Where is he? I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind—”

  “Simmer down, tiger.” With a laugh, Devon pulled her into a hug. “It wasn’t as bad as I’m making it sound, but Lani, it was just so us. Lots of laughter, a few snafus, and me marrying the love of my life. It was perfect.”

  Tears stinging her eyes, she firmly pushed aside her idea of what Rhys and Devon’s perfect wedding should’ve been, and hugged her back. “We’re sisters now,” she whispered. “You know that, right?”

  “Yeah.” Pressing their foreheads together, Devon rasped, “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Not long after that, the raucousness of the party quieted down as the single guys left for more exciting pastures. Couples with young kids and babysitters at home started drifting away, too, and soon it was just the six of them left, sprawled out among the wreckage.

  “Great party,” Devon said drowsily, not even bothering to lift her head from where it was resting against Rhys’s chest. Curled up on Geo’s lap, Lani mumbled, “Thanks.”

  Shane sat on the floor of the patio, back against a support post, Matt between his legs, arms wrapped around Shane’s upraised knees. Their heads were tilted close together as they whispered, every now and then sharing a lingering kiss.

  Lani couldn’t help but smile, and Geo brushed his lips over her temple. “What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?”

  She sighed. “About the first time I saw them, that night at the bar. Matt was so prickly, and Shane so arrogant, and yet they were so in love with each other they couldn’t see straight. Who’d have thought I’d be sitting here with them on their wedding day? It just makes me so happy.”

  He leaned down and kissed away the tear that slid down her cheek. “It was your engagement party, too, wasn’t it?”

  She gasped. “Oh, my God, it was. I forgot for a second.” In the process of casting Rhys a guilty look, she caught him with his hand sliding along Devon’s silky thigh, where it slowly disappeared under her skirt.

  Whoops.

  Quickly looking away again, she snuggled down against Geo’s broad chest. “It’s scary to think how close I came to marrying the wrong man. What if you’d picked another bar to have a drink in that night? What if I hadn’t gotten so sick at that exact moment?”

  Then I wouldn’t be here, a little bit tipsy on wine and a lot drunk on happiness, sitting on my husband’s lap next to some of my most favorite people in the whole wide world.

  Lani gazed up at the sky, Geo’s arms around her, squeezing her tight.

  Was it you, Ty, watching out for me?

  She’d like to think that it was.

  Thanks, big brother.

  It might’ve been her imagination, or her tired brain, or the fact she’d finally let go of anger, of bitterness, and opened her heart, but she could’ve sworn she heard Tyler’s voice whisper in her ear, Love ya, lil sis.

  * * *

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  Please consider leaving an honest review for this, or any of Carina Press’s other titles that you’ve read, on your favorite retailer or review site.

  When Nichole Masters feels like she’s being watched, Navy SEAL Jack Daniels is the only person she can turn to. He’s a protector and problem solver by nature and training. Accepting his protection is one thing, but Nichole didn’t count on falling in love.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Operation K-9 Brothers by Sandra Owens.

  Chapter One

  “Stupid me. I trusted you,” said the voice on the other end of the phone.

  Jack Daniels, Whiskey to his SEAL teammates, blinked sleepy eyes at his bedside clock. Three in the morning sucked for getting angry calls from women. What the hell had he done to this one?

  “Who’s this?” That was the wrong thing to say. Jack held the phone away from his ear in an effort to save his hearing. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen. Her voice wasn’t familiar either.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, interrupting her tirade. “You sure you have the right number?” Even though her voice and phone number didn’t ring any bells, he couldn’t say for sure he wasn’t the douchebag—along with some other impressively creative names she was calling him—in question.

  Ah hell, now she was crying.

  “How could you?” she said, her words slightly slurred. She hung up on him.

  After thirty minutes of trying to go back to sleep, Jack let out a long sigh. How could he what? That question was going to bug him until he got an answer. Although her voice hadn’t been at all familiar, he’d liked it, even when she’d been calling him names. He grinned. Sewer-sucking slimeball and twatwaffle were good, but his favorite was doggy doo. That one had a nice ring to it.

  He got out of bed and padded to the living room where he’d left his laptop. Dakota sighed in resignation before hoisting herself up from her dog bed, her nails clicking on the wood floor as she followed him. She liked her sleep, something he interrupted too often for her taste because of his nightmares. At least they weren’t occurring every night anymore. She sat near his leg and peered up at him with worried eyes.

  “Not a nightmare this time, girl. We got a mystery on our hands. What do you think of that?”

  She knew him inside and out, knew from the tone of his voice that he wasn’t weighed down by his memories this time. Once she determined he didn’t need her comfort, she made two circles, got her damaged leg under her, then curled up on the floor at his feet, apparently liking her sleep more than mysteries. Jack was intrigued, though, his interest in something flaring for the first time since coming home.

  It only took a few minutes to find a name and address attached to her phone number. Nichole Masters, currently living in Asheville. Nope, not ringing even one little bell in his memory bank of female acquaintances or hookups. It was possible he’d forgotten one but not likely. He had a good memory, especially for women, and she had a sexy voice he was sure he wouldn’t have forgotten.

  Jack stared absently at the half moon framed by the window. Coming to a decision, he nodded. “All right, Nikki girl, you have me curious.” As his teammates would tell anyone who asked, get on Whiskey’s radar and all bets were off.

  He showered, and after staring at himself for a minute in the mirror, he shaved off his beard, seeing his face for the first time in months. He felt naked.

  * * *

  At sunrise Jack made a recon run on one Nichole Masters. Her house was a cute little bungalow near the River Arts District of Asheville, North Carolina. As soon as he downloaded her Facebook profile picture to his phone, he knew that he’d never met her. There was no way he’d forget that face.

  He should let it go, but she’d fucking cried, believing he was the cause. That couldn’t stand. And yeah, he recognized that his reasoning was skewed. She’d thought he was some other douchebag, but Jack couldn’t get her voice out of his head. Then there were her eyes, a warm golden brown. Were they as beautiful in person as they were in the photo? But it was her smile that drew him. It was an honest smile, and he sensed that Nichole Masters was a happy person. That some faceless man had made her cry didn’t sit well.

  It creeped him out a little that he was stalking her—and it sure as hell would her if she knew—but he needed to learn where she worked. Once he knew that, he’d come up with a plan to meet her in a way that wouldn’t freak her out. Besides, he had nothing better to do.

  He was on medical leave after getting too up
close and personal with an IED. Dakota had saved his life by putting herself in front of him and pushing him back, in all likelihood preventing him from being blown to bits. She’d been severely injured, had almost lost a hind leg. Thank God she had survived, though, and was now recuperating, along with him. He would be returning to his team. She would not. She’d served her time, had saved the lives of many of his brothers, along with his, and had earned her retirement.

  But it was preying on his mind. Dakota needed him, but he’d have to leave her behind when he was healed enough to go back. The problem was that he didn’t know who to give her to. It had to be someone both he and Dakota trusted, and the only names that came to mind were his teammates. Because he’d given himself a deadline—two more months to get his arm and shoulder in shape—he was running out of time to make a decision.

  Since there was a VA hospital in Asheville, he’d come home as soon as he’d been released from Walter Reed Bethesda Medical Center. After a month in the hospital—first in Germany and then at Walter Reed—he’d been ecstatic to leave that place behind. Physical therapy on his arm and shoulder was a bitch, but the sooner he was healed, the sooner he could get back to his team.

  The first thing he’d done after getting out of the hospital was to track down Dakota. He almost hadn’t recognized her. She’d been curled up in a corner of the kennel, rib bones showing, eyes dull, and fur lackluster. At the sight of him, she’d tried to stand, only to fall over when she put weight on her damaged leg. Since she belonged to the military, he’d had to call in some favors to get her released to him, but he’d been relentless in making that happen. When he’d first brought her home, she had been depressed and lethargic, and Jack thought she’d as much as given up. Thankfully she’d come a long way, and except for her leg, she was back to the dog she’d been before the bomb.

  At precisely eight, Nichole Masters appeared, wearing a blue-and-white striped dress and white sandals. Jack blew out a breath as she walked down the steps of her little porch, a mug in one hand and the end of a leash in the other.