SEAL's Baby (Navy SEAL Secret Baby Romance) (11 page)

“What made you marry
Paul?” I asked abruptly, surprising even myself by the question.

  
She looked at me unblinkingly for a moment. “He was different when
I married him. He was kinder, sweeter, and I believed he loved me.”

“How long were you
married?”

  
“Two years,” I replied. “Things were rocky almost from the
beginning of our marriage. We even had a fight on our honeymoon but I believed
that we were just adjusting to one another. I had hope that things would get
better. But in the end, I realized that Paul was just being Paul and there was
no way to change that.

  
“I hated the idea of getting divorced,” Lizzie went on, dropping
my gaze. “To me, it was just another failure, so I held on as long as I could,
I made excuses for him, I tried to talk to him, I suggested we go to therapy
together …”

“Nothing worked?”

  
“He had so much … pent up anger inside him,” Lizzie said. “And I
was his outlet. He was controlling and jealous and I just couldn’t take it any
longer.”

“You got out,” I said.
“That’s the most important thing.”

She sighed. “Getting out
is one thing,” she said. “Living in the same town with your ex-husband is a
completely different problem.”

“Do you have much contact
with him?” I asked.

“I don’t really have much
of a choice there.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “What
do you mean?” I demanded. “Does he still bother you?”

“It’s not important,” she
said quickly, and I knew she wasn’t telling me the whole truth.

“Lizzie—?”

“You haven’t told me
anything about your life,” she interrupted.

“My life?” I said.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Your
life as a Navy SEAL; what’s it been like for you?”

  
I looked away from her for a moment. I usually didn’t like talking
about it with people, but it felt different with Lizzie. It felt natural to
want to share with her. This girl had been my childhood and my adolescence. I
had believed once that she would be the rest of my life too.

“It’s been … hard,” I
said finally. “I travel a lot, but it’s not what most people think it is.”

“I don’t imagine it would
be,” Lizzie replied. “It’s not like you’re lounging out by the pool in five-star
hotels.”

I laughed. “Some people
tend to take that view though.”

“Do you mean Tyler?” she asked
knowingly.

I sighed. “I thought the
distance might have helped our relationship a little.”

  
“Distance very rarely does,” Lizzie said and I detected a hint of
something lying just underneath her unaffected tone.

“We used to be so close
once,” I said. “Tyler and I.”

  
“Your priorities changed,” Lizzie said with understanding. “And
that pushed you both in different directions, but that doesn’t mean you have to
be at odds with one another. You don’t have to be the same person to get
along.”

“That’s what I think
too,” I nodded. “But then Tyler and I are together and … we just piss each
other off.”

Lizzie smiled. “You’re
here for a few weeks,” she said. “Work on it.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“He’s your brother,”
Lizzie said. “If a relationship is important enough to you, you have to make it
work, no excuses.”

“Will you help me?” I
asked cautiously.

“If you need it,” she
said softly.

“You played beautifully
today,” I said.

“I played ok,” she said
looking out towards the thin stream of water that flowed past us. “I haven’t
really practiced in a while.”

“Why not?” I asked. “You
were so passionate about music in school; you wanted to play for crowds.”

“Those were big dreams,”
Lizzie replied. “I’ve become a little more realistic since then.”

“Realistic?” I said in
surprise. “Lizzie, your music was amazing … you could have played on stages for
crowds of people. That was the reality I believed in.”

She smiled sadly. “No
one’s going to pay to watch me play.”

“I would,” I replied.

She smiled. “You always
believed in my music.”

“I believed in you.”

  
I could feel myself leaning into her. I could feel my resolve
weaken as I stared at her. There was no way I could stand there and not kiss
her. I reached out and put a hand on her waist. I felt her tense but she didn’t
push me away. I pulled her forward until she was pressed up against me. Again,
she didn’t resist. I bent my head to hers and kissed her lips.

  
It was a soft kiss, gentle and insistent. Her lips quivered
against mine and I knew she was remembering all those thousands of moments when
we had stolen kisses in school or at home before our parents knew we were
dating. I could taste a hundred different memories in her lips; I could taste
that vibrant exuberance of youth. I could see myself more clearly, the boy I had
been and the man I had become. They were so different that it surprised me and
all I wanted was to lose myself in her arms.

  
I pulled her closer and instinctively, the kiss deepened. I could
feel her arms around my neck; I could feel her lips part slightly as she gave
into me. I could feel her own resolve weaken as she gave into the moment. And
just like that, I was eighteen again and my future was stretched out before me.
This was it, this felt right.

  
And suddenly, it was over and she was pushing me away from her.
“No,” she said breathlessly. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

  
She looked up at me. “Dylan,” she said softly. “I never told you
this but when you left … it broke me. I wasn’t myself for a long time. You’re
leaving again in a few weeks and … I can’t get involved.”

“Lizzie,” I said
pleadingly. “You and I, we make sense together, don’t we …?”

“Does it matter?” she
answered tiredly. “My home is here and yours is not.”

  
She turned and walked away before I could say another word. I
wanted to call out after her, I wanted to stop her, I wanted to do a great many
things, but I stayed where I was and let her go. I was older and wiser now and
I could finally understand myself, but how could I explain to her that my only
home had only ever been with her.

Chapter Twelve

Elizabeth

  
I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. It didn’t matter what I
was doing; my thoughts eventually drifted to that moment in the woods when he
had pulled me to him and kissed me like we were teenagers again.

  
We hadn’t spoken much after that. Dylan took me home on his bike
and said goodbye at my door. He didn’t mention the kiss and neither did I, but
it stood between us all the same. I had hoped that work would help take my mind
off Dylan but instead I was distracted and disorganized in the library and I
had made three cataloguing mistakes already.

  
In the end, I decided to simply focus on the kids who came into
the library. I was kneeling beside one of the students, trying to help him with
his reading when the library door opened and I turned instinctively to see who
it was.

  
My breath caught as Dylan entered, dressed in dark jeans and a
white t-shirt. He looked so out of place in the library and I was suddenly
conscious of my appearance. He looked like Prince Charming and I looked like a
dowdy old maid in comparison. He looked around searchingly and then his eyes
caught mine. He smiled and I realized he was holding a single white rose.

  
I had always loved white roses, and on every birthday, I received
one from Dylan. I narrowed my eyes and walked towards him. “What are you doing
here?” I asked trying not to look too enthusiastic to see him.

“I came to see you,” he
said simply. “I thought of going for a drive today and I was hoping you’d join
me.”

“I’m working.”

“I see that,” he nodded
unfazed. “I can wait till you’re done.”

“Dylan …”

“I brought this for you,”
he interrupted me as he held the white rose out to me.

I stared at it for a
moment.

“I know what you’re
doing,” I said without taking the rose.

“What am I doing?” Dylan
asked innocently.

“You’re trying to evoke
all those memories of the two of us when we were young and in love,” I said.
“So that I won’t be able to say no to you.”

  
He smiled mischievously. “Is it working?” I groaned and he laughed.
“Come on Lizzie,” he said lowering his voice. “I’ve missed you. Let’s enjoy the
time we do have together.”

  
I knew he was making perfect sense, only because I really wanted
to spend time with him too. If I had possessed a little more self-control I
would have turned him down now so that I could save myself some pain later.

“You’ll have to wait an
hour,” I said.

“I’ll wait as long as I
need to,” Dylan replied. “Can I sit in here?”

“You can wait outside,” I
said firmly.

“Are you sure?” he asked
with a wink. “I’m happy to sit back and watch you.”

“I’ll see you outside in
an hour,” I said sternly.

  
He laughed and left the library without complaint. I turned back
and realized that every single child in the library was staring straight at me.
They wore smug, little looks on their faces and I prepared myself for the
questions.

“Is that your boyfriend, Ms.
Miller?” a chorus of voices went up and I was positive that Dylan could hear
them all.

“No,” I said, shushing
them with my hands. “He’s not.”

“Then why did he give you
that rose?”

“Because … he knows I
like them and he’s my friend,” I said reasonably.

  
One little girl shook her head at me as though I was in need of
guidance. “A boy only gives a girl a rose if he likes her.”

“Thanks, Lucy,” I said.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“He’s so handsome,” Rachel
said. “Don’t you think so Ms. Miller?”

“He’s … all right,” I
said trying to act as though I was unimpressed. “Now why don’t we get back to
our books?"

  
No one turned back to books in their hands and I was forced to
spend the next hour fielding off questions from a bunch of inquisitive eight-year-olds.
I walked out onto the parking lot, tired and relieved to have finished for the
day. Dylan was leaning against the car, watching me as I came forward.

  
“Did I ever tell you that I have a thing for librarians?” he said
as I approached. “Always thought they were seriously sexy.”

I rolled my eyes at him.
“There’s nothing remotely sexy about being a librarian.”

“I beg to differ,” he
said as he opened the door for me.

“Where are we going?” I
asked when we were driving peacefully down Carrey Drive.

“I thought we’d go down
to the old farm houses out in the country,” he said. “Like we used to.”

“That’s an hour’s drive,”
I pointed out.

“It’s too late,” Dylan,
said wiggling his eyebrows at me. “You’re already in the car and the doors are
locked.”

  
I shook my head and leaned back. I was only pretending to care;
the truth was I didn’t mind the drive or the time. It was enough to just be
with Dylan. Getting to know him again after eleven years was exciting and scary.
It had been such a long time since I’d felt anything apart from boredom that I
simply could not turn from him now.

“Do you like teaching?”
Dylan asked.

“I don’t really teach,” I
admitted. “I just help the kids out a little when they come into the library,
but I’m not a teacher.”

“Maybe you should be?”
Dylan suggested.

“One day,” I said.

  
When we were half way there, Dylan pulled to a stop at a grocery
store by the roadside. We parked the car and went inside and again I was
reminded of the impromptu dates we used to have when we were teenagers. We
never really went to fancy restaurants; we’d just whip up something at home
with the leftovers in the fridge or get a bunch of junk food from a convenience
store and find some place to eat.

“Choose whatever you’d
like,” Dylan said extravagantly. “Anything you want: sky’s the limit.”