Playing Dirty (37 page)

“All right,” Paul conceded. “Let me make a few calls.”

Ford shook Paul’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Go home to your wife, Grayson,” Paul said. “Report back tomorrow at eighteen-hundred hours. It’ll take the team at least twenty-four hours to reach their final rendezvous point before moving into the desert. From then on, you’re in it for the duration.”

“Where will you be?”

“Aboard the Nimitz,” Paul said. “Someone has to head up the welcoming committee.”

* * *

Mattie couldn’t sleep. Apparently nothing had changed over the past five years, because the first time Ford was called up for a mission since coming home, her ability to relax flew south. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave indicated the time as a few minutes after midnight. She needed to be up early for work and to take Phoebe to school, so pulling an all-nighter was out of the question.

She wrung the moisture from the chamomile tea bag, then tossed it into the garbage can before she snagged her cell phone from the counter and carried the delicate China cup and saucer with her onto the back deck. The October air was cool with a slight bite to it, dipping somewhere in the mid-fifties. She’d considered taking the tea into the bedroom and maybe catch up on some reading, but she knew from experience if she ended up swept into the story, it’d be four am before she finally fell asleep. Since a shot of something strong was now out of the question, she hoped for the best with a soothing cup of herbal tea and a bit of fresh air.
 

She set her tea on the side table, then tugged the old, seen-better-days navy blue sweater tighter around her to ward off the chill as she dropped onto the glider. Checking her cell phone revealed nothing. Not so much as a single text or missed call from anyone, her husband included. Not that she blamed Ford for the radio silence. Not after the way she’d behaved tonight. Still, regardless of how bitchy, rude or irrational she’d been, a word or two to let her know he was safe would’ve been nice.
 

She fired off a quick text to Griffen, updating her sister on her return to the former status quo. Meaning she sat at home worrying about the continued good health and safety of her husband, while said husband was once again in the path of danger. How foolish, how naïve she’d been to think for a minute that Ford wouldn’t jump at the chance to put himself in harm’s way, then have the audacity to sugarcoat it under the mantle of national security.
 

She tossed her phone on the cushion in disgust, then picked up the tea, wrapping her chilled fingertips around the delicate cup for warmth. The Great Resurrection of Gus McMillan. What a perfect opportunity for Ford to play hero and bring his long lost brother-in-arms back to his family.
 

“Bitter much,” she muttered before taking a sip of tea. She didn’t like feeling this way. Angry. Selfish. Scared. And she hated that she’d taken her fears out on Ford, especially when he was heading into the danger zone. God, what if her last words to him were words spoken in anger?

She couldn’t think about that or she’d go crazy. Instead, she tried to find hope for Shannon and her sons that Gus was alive and could be rescued. She’d never begrudge anyone that joy because she knew better than most how devastating the loss could be. But why did Ford have to be the one to make it happen? After all he’d suffered, how could he even consider going back to that horrible place?

She shifted her position and tucked her feet beneath her. The movement caused the glider to rock gently. She looked up at the darkened, Texas sky, but there were no stars tonight. No moon peeked through the clouds, and that made her uneasy. Seeing the stars, somehow knowing Ford was out there seeing the same night sky, had always given her an odd sense of comfort. She knew the notion was ridiculous, but she’d take solace where she could find it.

Her phone dinged, signaling the arrival of a text message. The tiny sliver of hope the sound gave her slipped away when she read the text from her sister,
do you want to talk?
 

no. catch up tomorrow?
 

She hit send and received a smiley face back in response. What could she really say to her sister anyway that wouldn’t sound ungrateful and whiny? That she was angry with Ford for being the man he was? That she was ticked off and wanted him to change?
 

Because she didn’t. Not really.
 

She sipped more tea and waited to feel the soothing effects wash over her and make her sleepy. For as completely ineffective as it was, she might as well have been sucking down an energy drink.

Her cell phone dinged again. She glanced down at the screen and her heart fluttered in her chest.

where are you?

home. where are you?
she sent back, mildly surprised she’d even received a text message from Ford. Usually she didn’t hear a word from him until after debriefing.

looking for you.

Her pulse took off like a rocket as she read the words.
Ford was home?
How was that even possible? Unless the mission was delayed, or better yet, called off completely. Certainly not for weather because she’d been checking since he’d left, hoping and praying for a whopper of a storm that would keep them grounded.

on the deck
, she sent back.
 

Two heartbeats later, the patio door opened and Ford stepped outside. Relief flooded her, washing away the tension that had been with her since Paul had shown up at her dad’s house.
 

Her first instinct was to rush into his arms and hold him tight, grateful that he’d come home to her. Except there was still that little matter of her being ticked off at him.
 

When she didn’t bolt off the glider and fling herself at him like some love-starved groupie, he crossed the deck and sat on the other end of the glider. “Is the mission cancelled?” she asked as she returned her teacup to the side table.

“No.” With the toe of his shoe, he gently pushed against the wooden deck, making the glider rock back and forth. “It’s still a go.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that he’d come to his senses. She wanted him to realize that he couldn’t leave his family to go chasing evil monsters halfway around the world. That he didn’t have the power to stop those whose very existence threatened the fabric of American life. Instead, she wanted him to tell her that...what?
 

That he was no longer the same man she’d always loved? That he’d turn his back on a fellow SEAL? A man who’d been as close to him as family? Or that he was no longer the kind of man who would move heaven and earth to see those he loved safe?
 

That wasn’t the man she wanted. In fact, that wasn’t even the man she’d married.

“So, why are you here? Did you forget your toothbrush?”
 

He let out a sigh and looked at her. His features were masked by the darkness, but she didn’t need to see his face to know he was proceeding with caution. After the way she’d reacted tonight, she didn’t blame him.
 

“No,” he said. “I didn’t forget my toothbrush.”

“I’m sorry I was so bitchy earlier,” she said. “I was afraid.”

He reached for her hand. “I get it.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

Then quit
, she wanted to shout. Walk away. Do something else.
 

Be someone else?
 

She almost laughed at that. “After everything we’ve gone through,” she said instead, “it’s not ever going to be easy for me.”

“I never thought the leaving was easy,” he admitted.
 

“No,” she agreed. “It never was, but I know you thrived on the action. The problem is, now it’s even worse for me because I’ve lived through what can go wrong.” She eased her hand from his. “I really don’t want to have to go through something like that again, but I don’t see any way around it if we’re going to stay together.”

He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Are you asking me to resign?”

“No,” she said. “I’d never ask that of you. And to be clear, I’m not asking you to do anything other than to be who you are.”
 

“Then what do you want?” he asked, sounding weary.
 

She hated that she was the cause. She stood, then took one of his hands in hers and gave a tug, urging him to stand. When he did, she slid her arms around his waist and looked at him. His arms went around her, and she rose on her toes to lightly brush her lips over his in a feathery kiss.
 

“You know you’re confusing the hell out of me right now, don’t you?” he asked.

A smile tugged at her lips. “That’s not my intention.”
 

He urged her closer. “Then what are your intentions, Mrs. Grayson?”

The erection pressing against her informed her loud and clear of his intentions. Her smile widened. “I love who you are, even if that sometimes scares me,” she admitted. “Do I wish that didn’t include the dangerous situations you have to face? Of course, I do. Because I want you safe. But, I want you to be the man I married, the one who promised to love me forever. I want you to be a father to our children, and to be present in their lives.”

“I want that, too,” he said, tightening his hold on her.

“I want you by my side for the long haul.”

“That could be arranged,” he said, then dipped his head and kissed her. The sweet rush of desire instantly flooded her body as his kiss quenched a thirst only he could satisfy.
 

He ended the kiss and looked at her. “I love you,” he whispered. “Always.”
“I love you, too,” she said. “Always.” She urged his head back down to hers. “So unless you really are only here for your toothbrush, I suggest you take me to bed, sailor.”

Some time later, she lay in Ford’s arms, sated and content. She snuggled against him as he slept, loving the feel of his arms holding her close. He’d eventually explained that while the mission itself was still a go, his participation was restricted to providing intel for the men on the ground, for which she was eternally grateful. That didn’t mean there couldn’t be a time when he was sent back into the field, but as he explained, the chances of that happening were minimal. However, because he was in intelligence, that didn’t mean a transfer to a new duty station was off the table. But with his history, he was relatively confident his preference to remain at Carswell would be taken into consideration.
 

The tension finally eased, Mattie closed her eyes. For her, it didn’t matter where they sent Ford so long as they could be together. He was her man. Her soul mate. He was and always would be, the great love of her life. For whatever reason, fate had intervened and given them a second chance at happiness.
 

A second chance at forever.
 

Epilogue

New Year’s Eve
Two Months Later...

THE BRIDE WORE a stunning black cocktail dress, topped with a multi-colored, sequined jacket that sparkled like diamonds under the twinkling holiday lights of the country club’s east ballroom. The groom wore a smile that his daughters hadn’t seen in a very long time. For that reason alone, Mattie was grateful that Lily had come into their lives.

Griffen smiled as their dad guided the new Dr. Valdez-Hart over the dance floor. “We don’t have to call her Mom, do we?” she asked, adjusting the chair where she rested her swollen feet.
 

“I don’t think so,” Mattie said, unsure if her sister was joking. “But I did hear Phoebe call her Miss Grandmamma Lily after the ceremony. We need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” Griffen said with a laughter. “Because that’s a mouthful.” She nudged Mattie with her elbow. “Look at that. He’s going to be as bad as his father was once upon a time.”
 

Mattie looked in the direction Griffen had indicated to find Austin surrounded by a swarm of female admirers. She could hardly blame the girls. Her nephew had his father’s dark, good looks and the same killer smile. “And twenty-five feet to the left, a pair of proud peacocks,” she said, referring to Ford and Jed who stood near the bar watching Austin, their faces the picture of pride and amusement. “They’re both grinning like idiots. And why on earth is Ford smiling?”

“Solidarity, I imagine. Well, they’d better enjoy it now,” Griffen said, “because neither one of them will be when it’s their daughters hanging around some cute boy.”

Mattie smiled. “I think Dad walked around with a perpetual frown from the day Dani turned thirteen.” Considering they were having another girl, she suspected Ford would start wearing that same frown once his own daughters started noticing boys.

She took a small sip of ginger ale and contemplated the uneaten bowl of chicken broth in front of her with zero enthusiasm. Once she’d hit the second trimester of her pregnancy, she’d been slammed with morning sickness. She had good days and not so good days. Unfortunately, her dad’s wedding day had turned into a not so good night for her, but she was determined to soldier through it.
 

The wedding had been lovely. Mattie had her father pegged as a strict traditionalist, so she’d been surprised when Fr. Monty had announced that the bride and groom had written their own vows. To be fair, Lily’s kids had looked just as surprised as her and Griffen.