A Sexy SEAL Novella Anthology (10 page)

“Nah. Eli figures he had a part in my
joining the Navy. In shooting for BUD/S. He just figures those
times prove he was right.”

“About?”

“About kicking my ass so I’d push harder
when I was a Cadet,” Sam said with a laugh. “He considers himself
my first instructor.”

“He did a good job. But you’re a natural.
Skills like yours will help you kick mission ass.”

“Seriously?” Sam smiled back at him and
shrugged. “That’s good to hear. Kicking mission ass is my goal. I
want to make sure I give it my best shot.” Hesitating, he had to
force himself not to look toward Eli before he went on. “I guess
there’s a lot outside of training that’s just as important. You
know, environmental stuff, like making sure my motivation is solid.
Like arranging my life so nothing gets in the way of doing the job,
of being the best.”

“You’re right about training, it’s just the
beginning. You’ll add to the training, you’ll layer on skills and
find your focus once you’ve mastered the basics.” A considering
look on his face, Cade tipped back his beer before continuing. “The
rest is an individual thing, though. I know guys who have crap for
motivation who kick ass. Others have the best motivation in the
world and can’t make it as a SEAL.”

Before Sam could ask about the rest, Cade
shifted on the stool and continued.

“It takes a special kind of arrogance to be
a SEAL. To do what we do, to train like we do and push ourselves to
the limits. I’ll cop to my share of that, but even I’m not arrogant
enough to think I can arrange life.” Seeing Sam’s frown, Cade
leaned forward. “Life just is. If there are things that are
stopping you from doing your best, yeah, you work past those. Get
rid of them or fix them or whatever it takes. But it’s not by
eliminating things, people or environments that will motivate you
and make you the best.”

It wasn’t? Sam didn’t ask aloud, but Cade
heard him all the same.

“Hold tight to the people who make you want
to be your best. Your family, your friends. Loved ones.” Cade
paused just long enough for Sam to imagine Bryanna’s face. “They
are the reason you work so hard and risk so much. Love, having it,
fighting for it, makes us better. Stronger.”

He pulled out his cellphone and with a swipe
of his finger, brought up an image.

Sam glanced at it and grinned. Damned cute
kids. The smallest had a round, happy face dominated by big blue
eyes with just enough mischief in them to balance the dimples
brought to life by the one-toothed smile. Holding the baby upright
was a little girl that Sam could see would be breaking hearts
soon.

“They’re great looking,” he said as he
returned the cellphone.

“Thanks. They look a lot like my wife,
Eden.” Cade swiped again and brought up a picture of a pretty
brunette with a bright smile and that same wicked glint in her eyes
as her son. But it wasn’t the woman that had Sam staring. It was
the look on the Lieutenant Commander’s face as he smiled at the
picture.

Happiness.

Pure and simple happiness.

“Doesn’t it make it harder to deploy?” Sam
asked quietly. “You’re risking more than a guy without a family
does. And wherever you go, you’ve got strings tying you down, don’t
you?”

“I have strings tying me to my family, but
that doesn’t hold me down,” Cade corrected. “If you can only do
your job under ideal circumstances, how good are you? If you have
to make yourself unhappy to do it, why bother?”

While Cade signaled for another round of
beers, Sam just sat, stunned.

And considered.

Sullivan was his hero. The SEAL he most
wanted to be like.

And the guy not only had a relationship, he
had a family.

Sam pushed his bleary brain to try to
remember how many SEALs he knew that were in serious relationships.
Quite a few, actually.

Was it because they had something special?
Something he didn’t have a shot at?

Or was Eli wrong?

About relationships.

About focus and distractions.

And most of all, about Sam’s future with
Bryanna.

Sam was coming over.

Bryanna read the text message for the third
time, but didn’t know how to react.

Should she be happy?

Sad?

Angry?

Worried or scared?

Curled up on the couch with the lights on
low and the Christmas tree twinkling, she tried to sort through all
the emotions, but couldn’t.

So she settled on numb.

That was probably why she didn’t jump up to
change out of the yoga pants and football jersey she’d thrown on
along with her fuzzy socks when she’d gotten home from work.

Her phone buzzed again, this text saying
that he was on his way.

Now?

She hadn’t seen him for almost a week, and
he chose now to visit?

Figured.

Bryanna looked around the messy living room
and sighed.

She didn’t have dinner waiting, unless the
half-empty jar of sugar cookies counted.

She wasn’t dressed in a sexy little nighty
and her underwear wasn’t anywhere near slutty. The only makeup on
her face was what hadn’t faded since she’d put it on ten hours ago
before work.

Why bother?

If she’d learned nothing else from her week
of trying to be his dream woman, she’d learned that she had to
accept reality.

The reality of who she was. A brainy blond
who preferred chenille socks to leather bustiers, who sucked at
cooking dinner but rocked Christmas cookies, and who deserved to be
more than a convenience.

As miserable as she was, she was still glad
that her little plan to be perfect hadn’t worked. If she’d gotten
Sam with fancy cooking, slutty lingerie and perfect behavior, she’d
have had to continue with all of it.

Bryanna sniffed back tears, telling herself
this was all for the best.

And after Sam came by, it’d all be over.

Then she could get started getting over him.
Learning to live without him. Forgetting all about him.

Biting back a painful sob over the idea of
forgetting Sam, Bryanna forced herself to quit with the drama.

With one last sniff, she promised herself
that she could handle it. Either that, or crawl into bed with the
covers over her head and a five pound box of See’s chocolates. But
after she’d eaten all the chocolate, she’d handle it.

Probably.

Bryanna pushed herself off the couch and
started to tidy the room. It wasn’t for Sam that she was tidying,
though. It was because she knew she wouldn’t be in the mood after
he left.

She knew what this visit was all about, she
told herself as she lifted the folded towels off the couch and put
them away.

She picked the pillows up from where she’d
kicked them on the floor, but when she lifted the penguin, she
froze. Instead of setting it back in its place of honor on the
couch, she tucked it tight into her arms and crossed the room.

Breathing deep through her nose, she pressed
her cheek against the stuffed penguin, then gently set him in the
closet and shut the door.

Time to move on.

She’d done her best.

She’d failed.

Wishing he’d get here so she could get on
with getting on, she grabbed the plate of cookie crumbs and a mug
that’d held her third cocoa of the evening off the coffee table.
Carrying them into the kitchen, she put them in the sink, then put
away the bottle of peppermint Schnapps she’d spiked her chocolate
with.

Would he be gentle with her?

Maybe it was the Schnapps, or maybe it was
simply being sick of herself and her week-long pity party, but
Bryanna giggled.

Knowing Sam, he’d also think it was a last
chance for great sex date.

As if. She rolled her eyes.

Then, halfway back into the living room, she
paused and considered.

She loved him. That wasn’t going to
change.

She wanted him, and maybe that’d fade a few
years after they split up. But what if it didn’t? What if he was
the hottest sex she ever had? What if she never wanted another guy
with the same intensity, never felt the same passion again?

Now that was worth a pity party, Bryanna
decided.

And if tonight was goodbye, then dammit, she
was going to have him.

They’d have goodbye sex so incredible that
the memory would keep her warm for years. And, she vowed with a
wicked smile, it’d be so mind-blowing that it’d make Sam miserable
every time he remembered what he’d given up. He might leave her,
but she’d be damned if he’d ever forget her.

As if hearing her thought, the doorbell
rang.

She glanced in the mirror on her way to the
door. Her blonde curls swept over her shoulders and her blue eyes
were shiny with tears, but a couple of stubborn blinks got rid of
those.

One more deep breath and an extra notch of
brightness to her smile to match the white lights twinkling on the
tree, and she pulled open the front door.

“Sam,” she said quietly, her heart
stuttering as it always did whenever she saw him.

He was so gorgeous.

Why did he have to be so damned
gorgeous?

“Bryanna.” Even his voice was sexy. Husky
and low, always sounding like he was just on the verge of laughing.
“You look great.”

Bryanna glanced down at her fuzzy socks,
then frowned.

Great?

Really?

He must really want one last bounce.

Then he handed her a rose. A single pale
peach rose just starting to unfurl. Her favorite.

What was he up to?

She lifted it to her nose, using the excuse
of breathing in its heady scent to give him a suspicious once over.
But Sam was too good at hiding his emotions, too well trained at
hiding his expressions. So she had no idea what was going on.

“Can I come in?”

Instead of answering, Bryanna turned on her
fuzzy socks and strode into the living room. She wanted to sit, but
couldn’t relax enough to bend her body. So she stood, waiting.

She didn’t wait long. He walked right in,
not looking at all guilty over her pending heartbreak.

“You decorated the tree,” he noticed with a
frown.

“Christmas is in three days,” she reminded
him.

“Yeah. I should have helped you decorate
it.”

Since it would have been the first time he’d
decorated one with her, she was glad he hadn’t. It would make
Christmas the next year a little easier.

When she didn’t respond, Sam’s frown
deepened.

“That’s a cool Navy Santa tree topper.” He
tapped the sailor Santa. “I didn’t know they made things like
that.”

She didn’t know if they did either. She’d
had it custom made, thinking she’d make it part of his Christmas
gift.

“Not a lot of presents under there, though,”
Sam said, as if reading her mind.

She glanced at the pale blue tree skirt with
its silver bells at each corner and shrugged. She hadn’t been in
the mood to wrap.

“Why are you here?” she asked quietly.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Because we had a fight. And even if it
didn’t bother you, it did upset me.”

A lot.

“I apologized already, but I don’t mind
saying it again. I’m sorry I screwed up your evening. And that you
decorated the tree without me, even though it was my fault.”

Bryanna had to clench her teeth to keep from
responding to that smile of his, so filled with boyish charm.

“Maybe this will help?” Sam reached into his
pocket, his eyes intent on her face. “I have something I’d like you
to put under there.”

He handed her a small box wrapped in festive
reds and greens, the bow glittering in the overhead light.

Her heart took a nosedive into the toes of
her fuzzy socks, making Bryanna work to keep her chin from dropping
to her chest. Why wasn’t he acting the way she’d thought he
would?

She knew Sam. She’d known him for most of
her life. When he had to do something ugly—like show his mom the
dent he’d put in her car—he got right to it. No dilly-dallying, no
hesitation, no prevarication.

She looked at the gift, barely large enough
to fill her palm. Then she peered at his face, trying to figure out
why he was dilly-dallying his prevaricating heart out now.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, crossing over to
stand next to her. Close enough to touch if she reached out, but
not so close that she felt justified in telling him to sit
somewhere else.

“I don’t have your Christmas gift yet,” she
lied quietly. She deliberately kept her gaze away from the tree
where the hand knit fisherman’s sweater, fancy ratchet set and
customized display case for his medals were wrapped and
waiting.

“That’s okay.” He shrugged, poking at the
package in her hand with one finger, a small frown creasing his
brow. “It’s not really a Christmas gift.”

He’d got her a going away gift? Bryanna
didn’t know if she was touched or pissed. Her stomach was tight as
she tried to decide. What did two years of whispered secrets,
mind-blowing lovemaking and joyful friendship merit?

Because it hurt to think about it, she set
the package on the small side table next to a bowl of holiday hued
M&Ms.

Then, aiming for distraction and more than
ready to initiate that
one last time
sex she knew he wanted,
Bryanna slid her hands up Sam’s chest, skimming the delicious
breadth of those strong muscles before curling her fingers behind
his neck.

“How about I open it later,” she suggested,
rising to tiptoes to brush a teasing kiss over his lips. “Much,
much later.”

She added a seductive flick of her tongue,
letting him know just how tasty dessert would be. Her heart melted
with gratitude when he took the invitation.

Sam’s hands gripped her hips, pulling her
tight against his body. His tongue delved deep, taking the kiss
from teasing to tempting with one swift thrust. Bryanna melted into
his body, her pulse racing, desire coursing through her system.
Even knowing he was about to break her heart, she couldn’t resist
the lure of passion that flared hot and needy between them.