Hot SEAL, Taking the Plunge Page 7

  “Now the practical stuff… Just ask for someone in the office to show you around as soon as you get there. Has your office leased an apartment for you?”

  “Yes, they’ve arranged for one close to our headquarters. It will be very small.”

  “Finding places to eat, buying food, learning your transportation routes are the next thing. Once you’ve got that down…you’re good to go. Oh, and get a translator until you learn some key phrases. It’ll help you pick up the language.”

  “You’re the one with the ear for languages. Want to go with me?”

  “I’d love to! Hong Kong! Wow! But I have two million-dollar renos ready to start as soon as the permits go through. And I don’t think Hong Kong is ready for me.”

  Abby laughed. “Probably not, since a lot of the living spaces are the size of postage stamps. Mine probably will be too.”

  “I might have some creative ideas for how to organize small spaces and still make them attractive. Let me know if you need my input.”

  Abby shook her head. “You’re obsessed.”

  “So are you. We both have to be to make it in the business world. You’re there, Abby.” She grabbed her best friend’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re there!”

  Abby’s large brown eyes still had a sheen of tears close to the surface. “And look at you, with your million-dollar house renos.”

  The only bad thing would be they wouldn’t be together to celebrate each other’s triumphs. Rylie couldn’t allow herself to think about that. “Are you going to sublet your apartment?”

  “Yeah. I am. I told them I’d need a few weeks to find someone to take it over.”

  “We can Facetime,” Rylie said.

  “Yeah, we can.”

  Rylie rose again. “I have to go back to work. Can we do a girl’s day this weekend? Eric is going deep sea fishing with his buds on Saturday, so I’ll be free all day.”

  “Yeah. We can get some of the others to join us.”

  “I’ll bring the food.”

  “That’ll guarantee they show.”

  Rylie reached for her at the same time Abby arms opened. They hugged while Rylie fought back tears. It was going to be hard. Her best friend was going to be gone six months, maybe longer, and it would leave a huge hole in her life.

  On her way back to the office, she longed for Eric to be here to hold her. She needed to be held.

  The fact that she needed it, and wanted Eric to be the one to do it, left a residue of fear in its wake. She’d been a SEAL brat her entire life. Was used to going weeks, even months, with little contact. Her father hadn’t been the huggy-feely type, either.

  Eric fed that need in her. But how would she deal with it when he was inevitably shipped to some desert or jungle and was no longer here to give her support? It wasn’t about financial or physical support. It was all emotional. And it was the hardest kind to do without.

  Platoon Commander Yazzie never beat around the bush about anything. He was the SEAL a lot of the guys wanted to emulate. When he called you into the office, it was important.

  Eric dressed in the uniform of the day, trimmed his beard so it was sculpted close to his jaw and chin, and brushed back his shaggy, sun-streaked hair. As a SEAL, he had a little leeway about the length of his hair and the beard, and he figured he’d get a trim after he got back from the desert.

  He loped across the parking lot, held the door for someone leaving the building, then strode down the hall. He allowed himself a little excitement. It had to be about the promotion. It had been in the works since halfway through his last deployment, and it meant more money, which was one more step toward a better retirement once he made his twenty.

  He’d needed the security and structure the Navy offered when he graduated from high school and was kicked to the curb by his last foster family. After enlisting, he had a home in base housing, had his healthcare insurance, and steady money coming in. For a kid who never had a real home, who had to work for everything he had, the Navy seemed a good fit.

  He entered Lt. Commander Yazzie’s office and approached the admin’s desk. The kid didn’t look old enough to shave. He had to have some pull if he’d been given this duty. “Petty Officer Anderson here to see Lt. Commander Yazzie.”

  “He’s expecting you, Petty Officer.” The kid hit a button on the phone and spoke for a second. “You’re cleared to go in.”

  Yazzie had a reputation in the teams for being a squared-away team commander who looked after his guys. After returning Eric’s salute he extended his hand. “Eric, good to see you. How’s the leave been?”

  “Good, sir.”

  “Your team needed it after all the action you saw. I’ve been reading some of your reports.”

  That seemed unusual. Or maybe not. What did Eric know about the ins and outs of being in charge of two platoons of SEALs? Thirty-two men, weapons, support staff, and more stuff than he could think of. He was relieved the job wasn’t his.

  He barely gotten his butt in the seat across the desk from him when Yazzie said, “I know you’ve worked hard for a promotion, Eric. You more than deserve it. But for some reason it’s been temporarily stalled.”

  “Stalled?” He’d been notified it was coming down the pike and suddenly it wasn’t. “Is there anything I can do to shake it loose, Lieutenant Commander?”

  “Nothing I’m aware of. I’ve been through all your paperwork, your reports from past missions, and there’s nothing lacking in your performance or the way you document everything. I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

  If Yazzie didn’t know, there was no way for Eric to find out. It could be someone who was supposed to move up in rank had fucked up and didn’t get to, which rarely happened. Or maybe someone who was supposed to retire had had a change of heart and decided they couldn’t live without the action. That happened from time to time, too.

  Eric had done everything right. Earned commendations across the board. Continued to push himself to hone his skills to razor sharpness.

  “I didn’t want you to hang in limbo wondering why this isn’t going through. I also wanted to tell you face-to-face, and assure you I’ll continue to push for it in every way I can.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

  Yazzie rose and Eric follow suit.

  “Are you ready to get back to work after your leave?” Yazzie asked.

  “Yes, sir. Always. When do we start?”

  Yazzie laughed. “Next Monday.”

  The last month had spoiled him to regular meals and regular sex. But then again, other than running every day he’d sluffed off his PT. He needed to get back to it.

  “I heard we’d be getting a new guy to take Tucker’s place.”

  “You’ll meet him out at Camp Billy Machen.”

  Desert training sucked. The sun, the heat, and the sand. They’d all had a steady diet of that for too long. “I was hoping for diving and some kind of underwater drills.”

  Yazzie smiled. “I’ll see what I can do. Whatever we plan, it will be to make sure the team works together as a cohesive unit. Losing one member and working in the next is a process.”

  It had happened before. He’d seen a lot of guys leave and others move in. “Understood, sir.” He saluted, Yazzie. “Thank you for letting me know about the promotion.”

  “I’ll continue to check into the issue and keep you apprised, Eric.” Yazzie extended his hand.

  Eric shook it. “Thank you, sir.”

  Disappointment dragged at him like a heavy pack. He just needed to be patient and work harder. It would happen.

  But the niggling worry that he somehow messed up somewhere stuck with him as he drove across the bridge from Coronado into San Diego.

  He mentally combed through the team’s numerous missions and couldn’t think of a damn thing. He’d done everything right. He was a good SEAL. Medals and commendations didn’t matter that much when he was doing his job. He earned it, and he’d get the promotion.

  CHAPTER 10


  TODAY – 15:35 PM

  Eric woke with a start to find Rylie watching him. “Sorry. Some of the guys and I celebrated being home at McP’s last night.” While he drowned his disappointment when he couldn’t get in touch with her. He shoved himself up in the chair a little straighter, winced at the crick in his neck, and rolled his head to loosen up the muscles.

  “I tried calling you and couldn’t reach you.”

  “My father turned off my phone and left it beside the bed. I’ve been sleeping a lot since I’ve been on bed rest. But I heard your messages this morning. They were what gave me the courage to show up on your doorstep.”

  “I’ve left texts and voice mails for the past month, Rylie.”

  She raked her hair back from her face and reached for her phone. He watched as she keyed in information. “They’ve all been deleted. They’re in my backup.”

  He felt a little uncomfortable watching her read them now.

  When she looked up there were tears in her eyes.

  Eric slid forward on the chair and braced his elbows on his knees. “This relationship you have with your father isn’t normal, Rylie. There’s protective, overprotective, and then there’s obsessed.”

  “You’re right.” She wiped at the tears as they spilled down her cheeks. “And that’s why I kept my distance from him until I started having trouble during the pregnancy. Abby’s stay in Hong Kong has been extended so I couldn’t stay with her, and there wasn’t anyone else I’d feel comfortable staying with. My blood pressure was sky high, and I’d been having contractions off and on for the past month.” She rubbed her stomach. “I needed for the baby to stay where he was for another month.”

  “Why didn’t he want you to talk to me?”

  “Because no man, unless he hand-picked him, would ever be good enough. And because he was angry with me. His unmarried daughter had gotten knocked up. And in his eyes you were responsible. I’m a disappointment and an embarrassment. He’ll be out for your head.”

  “Jesus Christ! This is the twenty-first century, not the fifties.”

  “He’s an officer in the Navy, Eric. A very high-ranking officer. An admiral.”

  He sat back in his chair as the shock of it vibrated through him. Was her father responsible for his promotion being stalled? “Does he know I’m a SEAL?”

  “I don’t know, but he was there that first morning, waiting for us to wake up, when I went to make coffee. I don’t know if he looked into the bedroom or not. But if you’ve been sending voice mails and texts…”

  “It was a satellite phone. It wouldn’t have my name listed. But the letters I sent did. He’ll know who I am. And I’ll be taking a hit because of it.”

  He looked away as rage surged through him. Then shook his head. “You didn’t tell me about this. You didn’t tell me about the baby. What the hell else didn’t you tell me about, Rylie?” Did he even know her at all?

  “There are things you don’t tell me about what you do, where you go, and your life.”

  “Only because I can’t. But I don’t hold back important things. Not like this, Rylie.”

  “Your teammates would have ridden you about dating a commanding officer’s daughter. They’d have treated me like a pariah, afraid I’d tell my father about them and you. I didn’t want your relationship with me to cause you any trouble with them. They’re your family, your brothers in arms. If I told you, you’d have thought you needed to tell them who I was.”

  She gasped at a rush of fluid between her legs beneath the blanket. “My water just broke.”

  Eric grabbed the call button.

  The nurse took her sweet time coming. “Dr. Kelly is on her way. She’ll be here any minute.”

  CHAPTER 11

  MONTHS EARLIER

  Eric turned in through the wrought iron gates and up the sloping driveway, slowing as he reached the peak of the hill. Ahead sprawled a huge Spanish-style house, and just beneath a carport-like structure sat Rylie’s car. He pulled alongside and parked his newly repaired and repainted motorcycle next to it.

  He gazed upward at the ceiling of the carport structure, where an imprint designated where woodwork had been ripped out. In place, it must have been amazing.

  Rylie had been waiting for nearly three weeks for permits to go through, and now they had, she was setting up her game plan for how they would attack the project.

  He pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and punched in her number. “I’m at the side door where your car is parked,” he said as soon as she answered.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  He scanned the area around him. The grounds needed some pruning, but could be beautiful once the overgrown brush was cut back, some of the trees taken out, and some order imposed on the flower beds.

  A lock clicked and Rylie opened the door. She smiled, and he felt the punch of it in his chest and lower. He expected after a few weeks this instant desire would ease, but it was just as strong now as the first time he saw her.

  “Come in.” She stood back to invite him through the door, then locked up again. “I’m doing one last walk-through because I have a meeting with the crew on Tuesday, and I’m double-checking to make certain I haven’t missed something important.”

  When he could tear his eyes away from her, he looked around the chef’s kitchen with its double ovens, gas range, farm sink, and huge refrigerator. The monster-sized island would fill the entire kitchen in his apartment. “This place is amazing.”

  “Yes, it is. This room’s been renovated, but the rest of the house needs work to bring it back to what it can be.”

  “And you’re going to do that.”

  “Yes, with a lot of help. We’re down to the tiny details and moving in the furniture at another project. Then we’ll start here, because a lot of this will involve cutting openings for French doors and rebuilding rather than tearing out. That takes a lot less time than ripping out walls and putting in support beams.”

  “Have you ever wanted to be on television?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because I know a couple who do a show about remodeling homes. Clay Hagan and Tasha Jones. He’s retired Navy. You’ve watched Hot House?”

  “Yes.” Her brows rose. “You know them?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is all that fighting and arguing just for television, or are they really like that with each other?”

  “They really were like that, but that was when they first met. They’ve since buried the hatchets and fallen hard for each other.”

  Her smiled widened. “They were really funny. And you could practically see the sparks fly when they were in the same room. I’m glad things worked out for them.

  “But as for your question… I wouldn’t want my every private moment to be filmed for all the world to see the way they have.” She started to add something, but backed off of it.

  What was it she started to say? Something personal, he was certain. He was learning that Rylie had trust issues. And even when she was relaxed and being open, she’d suddenly pull back.

  “Let me show you the rest of the house.”

  “Sure. It’s a classy place, but from the outside I can already tell it’s going to be a massive project. You’re going to need an army of landscapers to clear out that brush and cut some of the trees back.”

  “Yes, we will. Fortunately we have a team that’s really good.” She guided the way from the kitchen into a living room that was larger than any he had ever seen. The ceilings had to be twenty feet high. But the ceilings bore the scars of more woodwork wrenched out willy-nilly.

  “What’s with the missing beams?” he asked, pointing at the ceiling.

  “I think someone broke in and stole them while the house was empty. It’s a real shame, too, because some of them were the originals, and even if they’d been in bad shape, I could have used them as a footprint.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine on your own. You’ve probably done research on the traditional woodwork.” He’d
watched her research things while they just hung out together on lazy weekends.

  “Yes, I have, but those would have been original to the house. How do you know about landscaping?” she asked.

  “I worked from the time I was thirteen doing landscaping projects for people in the neighborhood. Then when I was sixteen, I got a job with a landscaping company. We built retaining walls, put in tiered beds, planted bushes and trees. It was all manual labor and kept me in shape. Otherwise I might not have made it through basic training.”

  “It’s hot, sweaty work.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Sometimes backbreaking, but it paid for his school clothes and the other necessities until he finished high school.

  “If ever you have a house and yard of your own, you’ll know exactly what to do.”

  “I guess so.” Owning a home was a concept as foreign to him as a trip to the moon. As a SEAL he was nomadic in his work, and he’d always led a nomadic life. Putting down roots would be difficult. And Rylie seemed to be the kind of woman who would put down roots as deep as an oak. After all, she redesigned houses so people could build families without worry. Wasn’t that how she put it?

  She went from room to room, telling him about what needed to be done. On occasion she whipped out a tape measure to double-check something and made a note of it on her phone.

  He was fascinated with her passion for what she did and the pleasure it gave her, partly because it matched his own for being a SEAL. Though he’d seen her work on her computer creating floor plans and three-dimensional models of the interior rooms, watching her do the work hands-on was sexy as hell.

  He made himself useful holding the end of the tape for her. The architectural design of the mansion was unusual in places. Tile original to the space covered many of the floors.

  “We’ll clean these, re-grout where it’s needed, and seal it,” she commented as they entered the kitchen.