Saved by the SEAL (22 page)

Y
ou know what, Drake? I'm going to jail tonight. Because I'm going to kill that son of a bitch.”

I start in the direction of the living room, but Drake's iron grip stops me in my tracks. I look down at my arm, where his hand is fastened tight, and then up at his face. Drake's teeth are clenched together and his eyes are narrow slits. He's just as pissed as I am.

“Everybody knows she's your girl, Abbot.” He hisses, low enough for my ears only. “But you can't start something here. Did you see her face and how fast she was pouring that glass of wine? She's miserable.”

“Exactly!” My urgency to get to Greta, to make her understand how much I care about her, makes me lunge in the direction of the living room again. “She needs me. Not him.”

Drake growls, a low sound deep in his throat as he now uses both arms to restrain me, wrapping me up in an unbreakable hold. My chest heaves as I suck air in and out of my lungs. “She also looked like she just needs to get through a night in the same house as the guy she loves.”

My body stills upon hearing this. Drake releases me when he sees I've stopped fighting. I stare after Greta, even though I can't see her anymore. There's a pounding in my ears that has nothing to do with anger, and something in my chest squeezes painfully tight. I recognize the feeling, but I'm too much of a coward to put a name on it. “You think she loves me?”

Drake shakes his head and goes to grab a beer from the bucket of ice on the island. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

He peers at me over the top of his bottle. “You good? Do I need to get your boys in here to take you out?”

I shake my head. No way I'm leaving Greta alone with Kyle. He's obviously a goddamn predator, moving in on her when she's been single for exactly five minutes.

A niggling, out-of-reach thought tugs at a far corner of my mind, prompting me to reach for it. But I can't quite pull it into focus, and it floats away before I can figure out exactly what bothered me.

“I'm good.”

He nods. “You'll get her back. But tonight is Dare's night.”

I nod. Circling my shoulders as if I'm about to go into a ring and fight, I shake my head a few times. I'm not just angry. I'm pissed and I'm helpless and that combination is unacceptable for me. I can feel it taking hold in my chest and clasping something tighter and tighter until I can hardly breathe. I don't just want Greta back. I need her.

Drake slaps my back, and then we head into the living room. I make sure to grab a beer before we leave the kitchen.

Gathered around various seating choices in the room are all of our closest friends. My SEAL buddies are missing because this is Dare and Berkeley's party, but I know every attendee well. Everyone is chatting and drinking, with plates of food in their laps or on tables. The atmosphere is jovial and happy, except for the gray cloud that hangs between Greta and me.

I can't keep my gaze from straying to her as the night drags on. She's the most gorgeous girl in the room, in my opinion. She's
my
gorgeous girl. Her tight leggings hug her legs, and the long button-down shirt she's wearing is cinched at her small waist.

I remember exactly how it feels to have my hands wrapped around that waist, while she hovers over me in my bed.

I shake my head and sip my beer. I close my eyes tightly, but I can't keep the memories of having Greta in my arms, in my bed, at bay. They just keep coming, a flood that I can't dam.

Dare claps his hands together. “Hey, everyone! Can I get you all to take a quick field trip with me for a minute? Feel free to bring your drinks.”

Everyone rises, bewildered looks on their faces. Some of us know what's coming, but I'm not sure why we have to leave in order for that to happen. Dare takes Berkeley's hand and leads her through the kitchen and out the back door, and we all follow.

We walk through Drake's awesome backyard setup toward the back gate that leads to the shore. Dare walks right through it, then removes his shoes. He helps Berkeley do the same, and we all follow suit. We walk along the sand, the lights from the beach cottages illuminating part of our path, the crescent moon high in the sky exposing the rest.

When we've passed maybe five houses, Dare opens the back gate to one with every light inside aglow. We walk through the backyard with a stone patio and fire pit, a small grassy area, and a hot tub.

“Dare! Whose house is this?” Berkeley glances around, clearly concerned about being arrested for trespassing.

Dare just smiles down at her, no answer crossing his lips. Then he reaches for the handle on the back door and pushes it open. He holds out his hand and gestures for Berkeley to enter. She hesitates for a moment, then steps inside.

As we all file in, Dare leads Berkeley through a gleaming kitchen. The cabinets are white, the countertops a polished marble. Stainless steel appliances shine brightly from their places. Everyone murmurs about the beauty and functionality of the room, as we pass through it to a stately dining room.

There's a painted detail lining every wall, and the paint color is a dreamy blue. But the room is empty of furniture, and we pass through on our way to the living room. The house is decked out with wide-planked dark wood floors that shine in the light from each room. When we reach the living room, Dare turns to face us.

“What do you guys think?”

I glance around; everyone's expression is completely lost. I note how close Kyle is standing to Greta, and then quickly avert my eyes. This is clearly an important moment, and I can't get lost in rage right now.

“Berkeley, I want you to go check out the view from that window.” Dare points. “It's dark, but you should still be able to see it.”

“But the ocean is in the back of the house,” protests Berkeley.

Dare pulls her close, bending down close to her ear. His voice lowers, but we all hear clearly his reply. “You'll like this one better. I promise.”

Berkeley shrugs and heads for the window. She peers out, and while she does, Dare drops down to his knee behind her. Mea gasps, placing both her hands over her mouth. Berkeley, glancing at Mea in concern, turns around. When she catches sight of Dare on his knee, her eyes immediately fill with tears and her mouth falls open.

Holy shit. That look…that's true, pure happiness. She's going to remember this moment forever.

I've known Berkeley for my entire life, and I've always wanted her to be happy. When she found her perfect match in Dare, I resisted it. But in the end, even I could see how happy he made her. And I could see that she'd changed his life from the moment he met her.

“Berkeley Holtz.” Dare's voice is clear and strong, if a little thick with emotion. “You're the only woman I will
ever
love. I've known that since the first time I laid eyes on you waiting tables at See Food. We've been through so much together since then, but you stayed by my side every step of the way. No one believes in me the way you do, and I can't imagine my life without you. Spend it with me here, in
our
house.” Berkeley's eyes widen considerably, and she glances around the room. Dare continues. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Even though tears glisten at the corners of her eyes, Berkeley doesn't let them fall. She lowers herself to her knees in front of Dare and wraps her arms around him. I'm sure he doesn't need any more answer than that, but she gives him one anyway.

“This is our house?” Her voice is a wonder-filled whisper.

“It's ours, baby.”

“Yes…yes, I'll marry you, soldier.”

The room erupts. Dare stands up with Berkeley still wrapped in his arms, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around. When he puts her down, he slides the ring onto her finger. She gazes down at it, awe and utter happiness written all over her face.

The girls swarm her, pushing Dare out of the way as they hug her and ask to see the ring. I can't keep the smile off my face while I watch the blissful beam of light radiating from the newly engaged woman.

Dare sidles over to me and murmurs, with his gaze still glued to Berkeley, “How did I do?”

I turn and we clasp hands, giving each other a one-armed, backslapping hug. “You did good. She's happy.”

He grins, still watching his fiancée. “Yeah, she is.”

Then he finally tears his eyes away and turns to me. “I didn't miss who Greta came in with tonight. You good?”

I shake my head and glance over at Kyle. He's watching Greta, his eyes following her every move. “No. I'm not good. But it's your night. I'll deal with it later.”

Dare nods slowly. “Yeah. I like Kyle. He's a nice guy. But Greta's yours. We all know that. It was a dick move to come here with her tonight.”

“Definitely a dick move. And it's the last time he's going to take her out.”

As if he can sense me talking about him, Kyle turns to look at me. Our eyes meet, and an unspoken challenge crosses the divide between us.

Okay, Kyle. You win tonight. But only tonight.

“I'm going to go hug Berk, and then I'm gonna get out of here.”

Dare's forehead wrinkles. “You going home?”

“Nah. I'm gonna head to Night Eagle. I won't be able to sleep tonight, might as well catch up on some of what's coming up for our clients.”

He nods. “I'll keep an eye on her.”

I slap him on the back. “Thanks. Congrats, man.”

I use my key card to swipe into Night Eagle, then let the door close and lock behind me. The front room is dark, and I glance over at Greta's empty desk before opening the office door. I leave it standing open as I plop down on the couch and close my eyes. I just sit for a few minutes, letting the night sink in.

Watching Greta walk into the kitchen with Kyle's hand in hers.

Greta refusing to speak to me, because speaking to me hurts her.

Berkeley and Dare getting engaged.

Kyle, challenging me through his stare.

It's been a long fucking night. With a sigh, I make my way over to Jacob's desk to pull a couple of client files. I find one of the clients I'm looking for, an executive of a multinational who uses our firm to install security systems when he opens a new branch. The other file, that of a client who uses us as personal security when he travels, is missing. I look up, frowning, and glance around the office. Locating Kyle's desk in my line of sight, I cross the room to get to it.

I've never been in Kyle's desk, never having a need, but since Jacob's desk is available to us if we need it, I assume Kyle's is as well. I sit in the leather chair and open his top drawer.

“Bingo.”

There's a manila folder sitting on top. Opening it, I leaf through. There's a stack of receipts inside, and I sigh with disappointment.
Not the file I'm looking for.
I'm just about to close the folder when a receipt catches my attention, sliding out from behind the one on top.

Surveying it more closely, I see that it's from a local florist. The order was for a dozen red roses, dated when Greta received her mysterious bouquet.

What the fuck?

Instinct tells me to search through his desk to see what else he's hiding. A black, oily fear is forming in my gut, but I push it back, needing to see if I'm right. Before I flip the fuck out.

I place the framed photo of Greta on top of the desk and dive back into the drawer. I don't see any more photos, but after searching a bit, I come up with a note written in Greta's handwriting. Then I find several more, written on small pieces of notepaper or Post-its.

Kyle, made two copies of these documents for you.

Kyle, you have a phone conference with Davidson Chemical at 2:30 p.m. today.

Kyle, I outlined the main principles of this company's bio for Dad's meeting. Check it out.

Kyle, Daniel Waller from Lexeme Industries called at ten o'clock.

There are several of these, all held together with a paper clip. I stare at them, feeling like they're burning my hands but I can't put them down. I just keep reading them, over and over again.

Has Kyle saved every secretarial note that Greta has written him? What the hell? No…that would be crazy. That would make him…

Her stalker.

The errant thought that drifted through my mind back at Drake's house pops back into my brain, clear as a sunny day this time.

Predator.

Kyle struck me as behaving in a predatory manner.

What if he always had?

Memories come back to me as quick flashbacks. I think about the fact that the flower that pricked Greta was left in her desk at work. Who had access? Kyle did. He also could have grabbed her keys at any time to get into her car without her knowledge. He knows her home address, so he could have left the gift on her doorstep.

And now…he's with her.

Fuck.

“Piece of shit!” My fist slams down into the unforgiving wood of the desk.

I sprint out of the office, not bothering to close the door behind me. I exit the Night Eagle building quickly, knowing the door will automatically lock as it closes, and run for the Jeep like my life depends on it.

Because
hers
might.

I pound the steering wheel as I drive, cursing myself for not seeing it sooner. But everyone thought Kyle was such a
nice guy.
It was impossible to see the kind of sick creep he is underneath.

As I'm driving back toward Lone Sands, I put in a call to Jacob, explaining. My words tumble over each other and several times he asks me to slow down and repeat myself.

“Are you sure?” he asks urgently. He sounds like he's already on the move.

“Pretty damn sure.”

“We need to be completely sure. Call your friends and make sure Greta stays at that party. Meet me at Kyle's apartment.”