SEAL the Deal (10 page)

Lacey rolled her eyes with a grin,
imagining herself shoeless in a suit Maeve would have called borderline-frumpy.
She knew she was the furthest thing from sexy. Average was a word that best
described women like Lacey. Mousy brown hair. Fewer curves than a highway
across a Plains state. A halfway decent face, though lacking the ability or
interest to play up her better features. That was more Maeve’s department.

Yet something about the way Mick looked at
her made her feel anything but average.

Motoring out of the boat basin as they
headed to deeper water, Lacey thrilled to see this new perspective of Annapolis,
with the Naval Academy’s impressive buildings dotting the shoreline. She
grinned as they passed the small inlet that Annapolitans called “Ego Alley”
because boaters would parade in and out of the narrow strip of water to show
off their boats to ogling tourists at the end of Main Street.

But it was when Mick cut the motor and the
wind filled the sails that Lacey realized the true appeal of sailing. They
whipped along the waves, the boat heeling only slightly with Mick at the helm. At
Mick’s suggestion, Lacey hung her feet over the side, enjoying the feel of the
water splashing onto her feet and the slight saltiness of the brackish spray on
her face.

They sailed into a quiet cove in the
Severn River where the water was calm.

“This is beautiful here,” Lacey said,
watching a heron flying low across the river. Her breath caught from the casual
touch of Mick’s hand on her arm as he moved her to the opposite side of the
boat so that he could pull a line tight. The muscles in his broad expanse of a
back contracted as he pulled the sails down and dropped the anchor, and Lacey appreciated
for the first time how a simple white t-shirt can showcase a perfect male
physique.

“And now, my surprise.” He grinned as he
headed down below to the galley, and re-emerged with a bag filled with food and
a champagne split. “The food is for us. The champagne is for you and you alone.
Drinking and boating don’t mix when you’re the captain, especially when you’re
sailing government property. But I didn’t want your celebration tonight to be
without a bit of the bubbly.”

“How did you manage this? I met you at the
gate only ten minutes after we talked on the phone.”

“It’s something you learn in the Navy. On
a ship, always make friends with the cook and you’ll eat well. Same goes at the
Academy. The cook at the Officer’s Club and I are like this.” He crossed his
fingers.

“Smart man.” She took the offered box of
carry-out and practically purred at the aroma. Opening it, her mouth watered. “It’s
filet mignon. I love filet.”

Mick popped the cork. “I’ll admit that was
just luck. I begged him for whatever he had prepared. Right now there’s an
Admiral and his wife waiting longer than expected for their dinners.”

Lacey laughed.

Mick gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That’s
good. You’re sounding a lot better than when I first talked to you today.”

“I shouldn’t let my mother get to me like
that. I was just so excited about the closing. I called Maeve first, but when
she wasn’t home, I called my parents. Big mistake.”

“You should have called me instead. We
are
friends, Lacey, as you keep reminding me.”

Lacey found herself reaching over and
touching his hand. His warmth seeped into her, from her fingertips, up the
length of her arms, casting a fire across her breasts. A sigh escaped her. “Thanks.
It was nice of you to remember. And believe me, spending the evening sailing
with you is a lot more exhilarating than going for a drink with Maeve.” In more
ways than one, she thought, quickly pulling her hand from his as she felt her
resolve slipping away.

What
was
her reason for not getting
involved with him? Taking another sip of her champagne, her brain scrambled to
remember.

“I’m glad you came. It’s been a while
since I went sailing. Now that I’m in Annapolis again, I’m even tempted to buy
a boat.”

“Really?”

Mick nodded, refreshing her glass. “Mrs. B
was thinking of selling their boat. I figure if I bought it, at least I’d make
sure she got a good price for it.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s so
soon after her husband’s death. I’d hate for her to make a decision like that
without taking the time to heal.”

Mick draped his arm lightly around her
shoulders, then removed it, giving her knee a quick pat instead. “Don’t worry. I
wouldn’t let her part with anything she valued. The boat was all Doc’s. She
hated sailing. Used to get seasick just looking at it.” He reached for another
steak fry. “She has to dry dock it this winter anyway, so it might be a good
time for her to put it up for sale.”

“Oh,” Lacey responded, wishing his arm was
still on her shoulders. With the cool breeze, the idea of snuggling up to him
seemed so appealing. On pure instinct, she found herself leaning subtly toward
him.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and Lacey
could hear nothing but the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the
boat. It seemed to echo her heartbeat pulsing inside of her. Mick shifted in
his seat. Clearing his throat, he continued, “It’s not like she was looking to
sell the house or something.
That
I’d worry about.”

Lacey’s head snapped back from his several
inches, remembering why he was off-limits. “Why do you say that?”

“That house—it’s just not meant to
belong to anyone else.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s my own memories there that are
clouding my judgment, though.”

“You spent a lot of time there?”

Mick looked thoughtful, then laughed
briefly. “I did and I didn’t. It’s hard to explain. Yes, I spent a lot of time
there while I was at the Academy. And I visited a few times since. But it feels
like I spent a lifetime there.” He paused, as though trying to find the right
words. “In the SEALs, I saw a lot of action. It wasn’t pretty. You never really
know life until you’ve seen it taken from others. Until you wonder if you’ll
live to see the next minute. I did things… saw things…” His voice trailed a
moment. “I don’t think I would have survived if I didn’t have memories of that
house.”

Lacey sat quietly, trying to conceal the
guilt that she felt for secretly hoping Edith would give her the lucrative
waterfront listing.

Mick must have taken her silence as a
request for more explanation. “There are times when you have to hold onto
images just to survive, Lacey. The pain. The fear. A lot of guys would remember
the home they grew up in, think of images of their wife and kids. It gets you
through. It gives you strength. For me, I’d think about Doc and Mrs. B and the
memories I had in that house. The way it always smelled like something was
cooking. The laughter. The way you just sank into the sofa and knew you were
home. It kept me alive. I know it sounds crazy because I can’t say anything
else.”

“I understand. Too painful.”

“No. Too classified.” Mick gave himself a
little shake. “So anyway, that house means so much to me, probably more than it
should. I’d hate to see her give it up for herself, of course. But I’ll admit,
a lot of it is selfish.”

Not as selfish as crashing her husband’s
funeral hoping she might sell her house, Lacey thought, realizing that even a
friendship with Mick was tenuous. If he ever learned the true circumstances of
their meeting, he’d never want to see her again.

Lacey couldn’t shake the hurt of that
thought for the rest of the evening.

As companies of midshipmen marched by the
bleachers to the triumphant rhythm of
Anchors Aweigh
, Mick’s right hand
snapped up in perfect unison with the other officers as the American flag
passed.

Lowering his arm, he muttered through
barely moving lips, “There’s no way I’m seeing her again.”

“Coward,” came the tight-lipped reply from
Jack standing at his right. “You should have joined us at O’Toole’s that night
instead. There were a couple redheads guaranteed to make you forget any real
estate agent—I don’t care how great her legs are.”

“Next time, count me in.” Mick was
sweating bullets under his whites. The heat today was unseasonably oppressive. Hell
of a day for a bunch of Four Star Admirals to visit, with all the required pomp
and circumstance.

Watching the rows of midshipmen in their
starched white uniforms, his mind drifted inevitably to his own Academy years
and the stress of marching the parade fields under the scrutiny of senior
officers.

Had it really been ten years since he was
that young and fresh-faced?

Jack must have read his thoughts. “Makes
you feel old, doesn’t it?” he commented as the crowd finally began breaking up.

Mick nodded gravely. So much had happened
since he graduated. The Navy had taken him to places he never thought he’d get
a chance to see, and war had shown him things he wished to God he could forget.

Jack continued as they headed toward their
office. “Makes you feel so old that you might want to settle down with a nice,
hot-looking real estate agent and spawn some young.”

“Shut up, Jack. I’m not asking her out
again.”

“Why not? I’ve never seen you so hung up
on a woman before.”

“You haven’t known me that long.”

“Okay, so I’ve never seen
anyone
so
hung up on a woman before.” Jack shrugged carelessly. “You brought up her name
five times since zero-nine-hundred hours.”

 “She’s not looking for anything
serious.” Mick picked up his pace as they headed along the pathway toward
Dahlgren Hall.

“Who needs serious?”

“She’s not looking for anything, period. Just
friendship.”

Jack mouthed the word friendship
simultaneously with Mick. The dreaded “F” word. “That sucks, man.”

“Yeah,” Mick agreed. “She hot, and I’d do
her in a New York minute—”

“I’d hope you’d last longer than that,”
Jack interrupted with a snort.

Mick’s glare was deadly. “—but she
drew a line that I won’t cross.”

Jack rolled his eyes, as they cut through
the Officers’ Club parking lot. “Yeah, whatever.
But
you better not back off.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s like all women. They
think
they don’t want a relationship, but that wears off. And the guy who wins is
always the one who’s lurking around waiting to move in at a vulnerable moment.”

“More stuff you learned from your
sisters?”

“Oh, yeah. My youngest sister got married
to a guy she met two days after she had supposedly sworn off men. He just kept
hanging around, and then moved in for the kill when the timing was right. Nice
guy, though,” he continued. “Or I would have turned him into fish food for the
bottom feeders of the Atlantic.”

“Of course,” Mick agreed, thankful he
never had sisters to protect. He’d probably be in jail by now. “Lacey’s nice,
don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t handle an evening with her again. I’m just
not into torture.”

“Group date then,” Jack offered up as the
solution, punching Mick’s arm with his fist. “That’s what you need. You said
she has housemates. So, we meet them for a drink. Real casual. Just friends. You
get to keep her on your radar screen, and I get to meet her friends who
hopefully won’t have the hang-up with dating men that she does.”

The idea had some appeal.

Jack’s eyes brightened. “Even better, we
wear our uniforms. Go to some overcrowded bar downtown. Bump into some mids. They
have to be all deferential and salute us. We boss them around and make them do
push-ups. Women love that. You’ll get laid.”

“I don’t think that would be enough for
Lacey.”

“Who said it has to be Lacey?” Jack
laughed at the withering look he received from Mick. “Dude, you’ve really got
to lighten up.”

“Okay. Maybe a group date. But no uniform.
Too obvious. Next week sometime?”

“Tonight. Seems more casual to call last
minute.”

***

Lacey eyed the ripe pimple on her forehead
and ached to squeeze the life out of it, wondering if the urge to pop zits was
somehow coded into her DNA.

Sometimes it was good to spend a Saturday
night dateless. Of course, she hadn’t given herself many options lately.

Her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, Lacey. It’s Mick. How are you?”

Just like that, her body reacted to the
sound of his voice. It was almost embarrassing. “Oh, hey, Mick. I’m fine. How
are you?”

“We’ve got some visiting Admirals. It’s
been pretty hectic. Jack and I were headed down to O’Toole’s to detox with a
beer. Wasn’t sure if you and your housemates might want to join us.”

Lacey swallowed. Hard. She really didn’t
think she could handle another evening in his presence without her resolve
crumbling. “Oh, thanks, but I’m not really sure what Maeve and Bess are up to
tonight.” That’s good, Lacey thought proudly. Blame your friends.

As if on cue, Maeve peeked in through her
bedroom door. “Did I hear my name?”