Navy SEAL Noel (11 page)

He couldn't count the number of times she'd fallen asleep when they were watching movies late into the night. She had the cutest little snore. More of a snort, really. Just as she was dozing off, her nose would let out a tiny gasp, and then she'd be out, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

He couldn't imagine that had changed over the years.

But her nerve sure had.

His chest swelled at the memory of her facing down El Jefe. She hadn't broken a sweat or looked to him for help. She'd just done whatever it took to keep them from being separated.

Will would have blown up the entire compound before he'd let that slick little jerk order him away from Jess. And he'd been just about to do something drastic— although he wasn't sure what—when she'd piped up.

She was something else, and he couldn't deny the pleasure he found in getting to know her all over again—even under these conditions.

This night was less muggy than the past three, and he took a deep breath, letting it soothe the tension in his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sounds of the compound. Grunts from the neighboring barracks. A slamming door. Cicadas singing their night song.

And a hard thud followed by a painful grunt.

Will was at attention in an instant. Jogging to the corner of the block wall, he peered around the edge. With five other buildings close by, the entrance to Jess's room wasn't well lit. That had been a good thing.

Until now.

Every shape and shadow caught his attention, but nothing appeared out of place.

He closed his eyes to shut out all other distractions, honing in on the same voice that had grunted before. It was cursing now, all the words slurring together. “She thinks she's too good for us, does she? I'll show her.” A figure staggered into the alley about twenty feet away. Even at that distance, Will could smell the odor of alcohol, heavy as if the man had showered in it.

Will's stomach clenched, but he let out a slow breath to keep his physical reaction in check. He had to control himself.

Maybe the drunk would pass out and Will wouldn't have to do more than watch him sleep it off.

More likely his drunk buddies weren't too far behind.

Will couldn't afford to be caught dispatching a threat to Jess—not that he'd have much trouble fighting off the louts he'd seen around the compound. But he couldn't risk being separated from her.

So he took another deep breath, promptly choking on the stench of the approaching man.

The visitor stumbled again, catching himself on the wall just ten feet from Jess's door.

Will squeezed his hands into fists, scraping his knuckles against the rough wall between them. The pain kept him grounded, kept his mind on the immediate, so he pressed into it.

With three more uneasy steps, the thug drew even with the door to Jess's room. The wood creaked as he leaned a shoulder against it, his breathing labored by the short walk.

Will's own breathing had slowed to an even, smooth tempo as he played out what was going to happen. He had to let the drunk get into Jess's room, out of sight, before taking the man down or he risked a ruckus that was guaranteed to draw unwanted attention. While his training meant Will knew how to deal with the threat silently, he couldn't do anything to keep them from being seen if the guy's friends were around.

But the thought of Jess waking up to a strange man in her room was enough to make Will's stomach revolt.

He hated that she'd be terrified, and he knew that she would be.

Lord, please let Jess have that wrench handy.

He'd give anything to be able to rush into her room at that moment and defend her. To be the one who could save her from the terror ahead. To be her hero.

He'd wanted to be that man ten years ago, too.

The truth knocked him back against the wall. Covering his face with his hands, he gulped for air that suddenly felt scarce.

He'd never let himself analyze why he'd taken off after she'd shown him the ring Sal had given her. He'd told himself it was because he'd needed a change. He'd wanted to see the world.

But in this moment, he knew the truth. As he waited to save Jess, he saw his actions for exactly what they were.

Cowardice.

He'd run from everything that had terrified him—the very thought of loving Jess, and the sure knowledge that he was going to lose her to the brother he loved, the brother he owed more than money could repay.

What a fool he'd been.

Some would argue he still was.

Will blinked as he heard the door to Jess's room open, followed by two heavy footfalls.

On a hope and a prayer, he sprinted around the corner.

Before he even reached the door, a solid thump echoed from inside the room, and his heart stopped beating.

NINE

T
he weight of the wrench in her hand was too much, so Jess dropped it to the floor. She could barely hear the clatter for the ringing in her ears. Her entire body shook as she stared at the man sprawled on the floor. He was tall and lean, and smelled like a distillery explosion.

And he wasn't moving. At all.

Oh, God. Please say I didn't kill him.

But she couldn't get her arms and legs to move in order to check for his pulse.

She'd hit him in the head with all she was worth, but now what?

Her legs shook so badly that she couldn't keep herself upright any longer. She would have hit the floor if a strong arm hadn't slid around her waist and pulled her against a wall of solid muscle.

Although her instinct to fight kicked in, she didn't have the strength to do more than push at the hand on her hip. She couldn't even muster a scream.

“Hey. It's me. You're okay.”

Will.

She sank against him, wedging her head beneath his chin and trying to soak up every ounce of his strength. His other arm twined around her waist, and she let him hold most of her weight, her legs still refusing to do their job. His shoulders lifted and fell in a steady rhythm, each exhalation fluttering her hair.

But her hands still trembled. The feeling of the wrench had been branded against every finger as it connected with the intruder's skull.

Will rubbed her back, the heat of his palm slowly easing the tension there.

“Shhh.”

It wasn't until he said something that she realized she'd been babbling. Incoherent gibberish at best. But in her mind, she heard the accusations as if they rang through a bullhorn.

You killed him. You killed him. You killed him.

“It's all right.” Will's hand moved from her back to her arm, soothing from shoulder to elbow. “Everything's okay.”

But it wasn't. Nothing was okay. She'd heard the crack as the wrench had landed. She'd watched the intruder fall to his knees, crashing against the unforgiving floor. He hadn't moved since.

Even though she'd had no other choice but to defend herself, she'd killed him.

And she would have to live with that.

Will leaned away and looked into her face, his thumb brushing at the moisture pooling below her eyes. “I'm so sorry that you were scared. But he can't hurt you now.”

A sudden sob caught her off guard and seemed to open the floodgates. “I—I think I k-killed him. He hasn't moved since I hit him.”

Will's grim expression broke with a hint of a smile. “You didn't kill him.”

“Yes, I did.” Panic laced her words, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach to keep herself from flying apart, since Will wasn't doing the job anymore.

He caught her eye and shook his head with deliberation. “He's still alive.”

Was he right?

Peeking behind her, she looked at the prone form. With the toe of his shoe, Will gave the man's leg a little shove. The intruder let out a groan as sweet as any sound she'd ever heard, and Jess let her chin fall all the way forward, weakness again overcoming her.

Fear and relief apparently both sapped all her strength and threatened to send her toppling to the floor.

“Feel better?” Will's voice held a hint of teasing, his eyes glinting in the sliver of moonlight coming through the open door.

She wanted to slug him in the arm, but mostly she wanted him to hold her again, to hang on to her until she didn't fear anything else.

Whether he could read her thoughts on her face or he wanted the same thing, he pulled her back into the circle of his arms.

“I thought I was going to have to...” Her hands slid over the taut muscles at his waist until they met in the back. “I thought I'd have to live with it. With the knowledge that I'd killed someone.”

“I know. It's a hard thing to carry through life.” His words rang with a pure knowledge of the truth. Will knew what he was talking about, given his career choice. “But you don't have to carry anything from this. You didn't do anything wrong. You were great.” He gave a little chuckle as he smoothed her hair. “In fact, I think I'll talk to the CO about adding wrenches to our weapons inventory.”

That made her laugh, too. And the humor helped release much of the tension that had been building in her neck and shoulders. In its place she felt a strange sense of uncertainty—a tugging in two directions.

She wanted to stay this close to Will forever, listening to the murmur of his heart and the tempo of his breathing. It was familiar and everything she'd dreamed it could be.

But equally as strong were the memories of him disappearing. The unanswered calls and messages. The pages of emails that were never replied to. She'd driven by his house eight times before getting up the nerve to knock on the door, terrified that Sal would answer and she'd have to face him again.

Telling Sal she couldn't accept his promise ring—that she didn't want to marry him—had nearly sucked her heart out of her chest. He was such a kind man, just a year older than her. He'd had such beautiful dreams for their life. A house near the beach. Three kids. Two dogs. Dinner together around the table every night. A quiet life.

It had all sounded so wonderfully stable, so fantastically secure.

But she didn't love him.

Oh, how she cared for Sal. But after a year of dating, she'd realized he could never be more than a dear friend. A trusted confidant.

But she'd had those things with Will, too. So she'd known what she shared with Sal wasn't enough to build a life together. But the Gumbles had been just like family for six years. And breaking Sal's heart, refusing his proposal, meant that some things would have to change. If she said no, family dinners around the Gumble table would be awkward, at best. Time with Will at his home would always be tense. Abuelita's hugs would be strained.

Saying no would change everything Jess loved about her life.

So she'd contemplated saying yes. Jess had taken Sal's ring with a promise to think about it.

That night, she'd sat in Will's little Toyota, a block from her house, and showed him his great-grandmother's diamond.

“Did you say yes?” Will's eyes were so narrow that she couldn't make out any of the chocolate brown usually filled with laughter.

“No.”

“Then why do you have the ring?” She didn't need to see his eyes to feel their accusation.

Her stomach lurched, and she covered her face with her hands. “I just couldn't tell him no. I said I'd think about it.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she hiccuped against the spasms racking her chest. “What was I supposed to say? We've been dating almost a year. I don't want to hurt him.”

Looking across the center console, she willed his hand to reach over and hold hers, but it stayed on his jean-clad leg, balled into a tight fist, the muscles in his forearms tense and sharply defined. His eyes looked straight forward through the windshield to the Gugenburgs' mailbox. His Adam's apple bobbed in his skinny neck.

“Say something.” She hated the way panic took over her voice.

“He's my brother.” His tone was flat and cold, and she shivered in the warm May air that filtered through the open windows. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know. Just...something.”

Will shoved a hand through his unruly hair. “I don't know what to say.” His other fist bounced on his knee next to the steering wheel. “I mean, I want you to be happy. And Sal, too. So if you think marrying him will make both of you happy...”

“No.” Though quiet, her word sliced through the car like the Jaws of Life.

“Jess, what do you want?”

“I don't want to hurt him, and I don't want to make things weird between me and your family, and I don't—”

Will held up his hand and looked her right in the eye. “That's what you
don't
want. What
do
you want?”

She wiped away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I want everything to stay the same between us.”

“Why would it change?” The knuckles of his fist turned white as his jaw worked hard to get the words out.

“Will you still be my best friend if I marry Sal?” Her lungs cried for air as she waited for Will's reply.

His face twisted with a pain she couldn't pinpoint, but he inhaled sharply through his nose and said, “It's after your curfew. I should get you home.”

“Will you pick me up in the morning for school?”

“I'll be there.”

But he hadn't. That night had been the last time she saw Will, through tears and smeared mascara. She had whispered a good-night and run up the steps into her father's waiting embrace.

Now she could hear Will's heart thumping steadily beneath her ear, his comfort more powerful than any she'd known. What was this connection that drew her to him, while her head screamed warnings of the dangerous undertow?

She couldn't afford to be sucked under, to believe he was by her side to stay. It would only bring a broken heart, and she could ill afford another one. After her mom left, and her great-aunt Eva moved away, Will had bruised what little was left.

Still she held on to him, let him brush away her tears with even strokes of his thumb and soft words of encouragement. Pressing her nose into his neck, she breathed in his scent. He smelled of earth and mud and hard work, and she tightened her hold around him.

With a crooked forefinger, he tilted her chin until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. She let out a little gasp as he ran the pad of his thumb over the corner of her lip.

His other hand rested in the hollow at her waist, holding her gently in place.

Not that she was pulling away.

Her feet had grown roots, her eyes only able to focus on the dim outline of his lips. His jaw tightened for a long moment, pulling them taut. Then he relaxed but not into a smile.

Every vein in her body thrummed as he leaned closer and closer. Every inch seemed a mile, far too long before he'd reach her. But when he did, it was a perfect fit.

The war between her head and her heart forgotten for the moment, she pressed against him, wishing she could bottle that moment and save it for a lifetime. She was safe. She was home. And her heart was whole, if only for a second.

The softness of his T-shirt under her hands and the silkiness of his lips on hers effectively wrapped her in a cocoon of joy.

It was everything she'd always known it would be. Gentle and wild. Soft and full. Tender and untamed.

It was also making her heart swell so much that she had to pull away to catch her breath.

Leaning her forehead against his shoulder, she gulped for air as he let his arms drop to his sides. At a loss for words, she said the three words that always came back to haunt them. “You left me.”

“I know.” The regret in his voice was nearly tangible, and she waited for him to go on. He hadn't explained why he'd gone, or told her what a terrible mistake it had been. She'd been telling herself for years that she didn't want or need his excuses, but after that kiss, with her knees still trembling, she knew she'd been wrong.

Say something. Anything. Tell me why you left.

Just say you wish you'd stayed.

Long minutes ticked by, in a pregnant silence. Each second twisted the knot in her stomach more, until she thought she'd be sick.

And then he spoke. “You should get some sleep, and I should take care of our guy.”

Not the words she had hoped to hear.

Stepping back, she kept her head bowed and her eyes closed. It was easier not to see him leave again.

* * *

The unconscious man sprawled on the floor looked skinny, yet as Will scooped him over a shoulder, he grunted under the weight. But the unexpected strain as he carried his burden out of Jess's room was a welcome distraction.

He offered Jess a soft good-night and bolted for the door before he did something really stupid.

Like fall to his knees, beg her to forgive him for his cowardice and plead with her to be part of his life again. Forever.

Oh, kissing her hadn't been a smart move. He'd known that the second before their lips touched. But he was tired of caring about making the smart decision. He just needed to have her in his arms, even for just a taste of perfection. To smell the sweetness of her hair and remember without regret how good they'd been for each other.

In her uncertainties, he'd been certain. In his stubbornness, she'd stayed levelheaded.

They balanced each other. Always had.

And the spark that he'd wondered might be there...well, there was no denying it now. Her touch was lightning and rain in one, setting him on fire and soothing him in the same moment.

He lumbered down an alley, weaving between buildings until he reached the far side of the big house. His passenger groaned when Will stepped into a deep hole, and he jammed his shoulder into the man's gut just because he was ticked off.

At this cartel. At the unknown men who were watching them. At himself.

At the fact that he could never kiss Jess again.

Will slung the man to the ground at the base of a building, and his back thudded against the wall.

Squatting in front of Jess's would-be attacker, Will glared hard into the slack-jawed face. But he didn't see the narrow chin, patchy beard or crooked nose of the man in front of him. He saw Sal, bags beneath bloodshot eyes, shoulders sagging after a sleepless night. Sal with his untamable hair and rakish grin on the day Will had come to pick him up from the county lockup.

Will had crossed his arms, leaned against the hood of the car and tried to look casual as Sal sauntered down the police station steps. “How was it?”

Sal shrugged. “They won't be selling season tickets anytime soon.”

Swatting his big brother, Will said, “Seriously, man. Why'd you do it?”