Sexy SEAL Box Set: A SEAL's Seduction\A SEAL's Surrender\A SEAL's Salvation\A SEAL's Kiss (67 page)

* * *

B
RODY
STEPPED
INTO
the room that’d once fit him like a second skin. This bunk, a cot in a tent, a rack on a ship. It didn’t matter. They’d been home. Barracks were all the same. Coronado, Little Creek, Pearl Harbor or Afghanistan. He’d fit. He’d belonged.

Now?

He looked around the bland room, his gaze avoiding the bunk next to his. Carter’s bunk.

Now he wasn’t sure.

“Dude, you’re back?”

Brody turned in time to catch Masters’s hand in a tight shake and gave a half shrug.

“Just finished physical therapy.”

“Finished a session? Or finished completely?” Masters asked, his green eyes intense.

“Both.”

“Yeah? You’re cleared for duty?”

“Gotta see the doctor on Monday. But the physical therapist said I’m solid.”

“Nice timing. We ship out in a month, start training next week.”

A week. Brody was silent. Genna’s face flashed through his mind. What would she say if she knew? After that first night, they’d never talked about his service. For the first time, he realized they’d both been avoiding it.

“So what’s the deal?” Masters asked, reading the stress in Brody’s tone. “You thinking about opting out?”

“I don’t quit.”

“No. But if you can’t give it one hundred percent, you’re not an asset.”

A brutal statement by some standards. But not Masters’s. And not Brody’s. He knew it was the truth. Their commander ran the team with a strong hand, demanding the best from each man, pushing them all to their limits, then shoving them right past to find new limits. A SEAL carrying baggage was a detriment. To himself. To the mission. To the team.

“So what’s the deal?” Masters asked, grabbing a wooden chair and spinning it around before straddling it. He waited until Brody had done the same, then he picked up the deck of cards on the table between them and started shuffling. “You’ve been cleared of PTSD, right? You say you didn’t B.S. your way through testing. So it’s gotta be something else.”

Brody debated while Masters dealt.

He wasn’t a sharesies kind of guy. He didn’t believe confession was good for the soul. And whatever nasty crap he had in the closets of his mind was just fine hiding out there. He’d lived through plenty of ugly in his life and ignored it all just fine.

So why was this different?

He lifted his cards, tossed one down.

“You ever question your ability to do your job?” he asked quietly, taking the new card Masters flipped across the table.

His buddy stared at his hand for a couple heartbeats. Brody knew he was thinking. The guy didn’t say boo without considering all the ramifications. Finally, Masters looked up and gave a jerk of his shoulder.

“No. That’s probably not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. We’re the best. We do what nobody else can do. And we’re damned good at doing it.”

Brody nodded. He used to believe that, too.

“You questioning the job you did?” Masters asked, his words quiet as he rearranged his cards.

“I failed.” There. He’d said it. Some people might think confessing their deepest shame was cathartic. Brody had news for them. It sucked. His gut ached and his head throbbed as he heard his own words.

He’d left Bedford a loser with little or no prospects. Ten years later, he was back and not much had changed. He still had the hots for the town princess. She was sneaking around seeing him on the sly. And his prospects? Pretty freaking lousy.

He met his friend’s eyes with a shake of his head.

“My failure cost us a brother.”

Masters pursed his lips, that computer brain probably replaying the mission statement and everyone’s assignment, the operation itself, and the postmission assessment.

Then he shook his head.

“You saved a little girl. A kid who wasn’t supposed to be in that compound. Despite spotty intelligence, you listened to her old man, went back in and found her, and hauled her out with a bullet in your thigh just before the place exploded all to hell. That’s your job. You did it. What’s the problem?”

“I wasn’t the last man out.”

Masters’s face stiffened for a second, his jaw tight. He gave a short nod.

“Carter went down. It happens, man. We all know that going in.”

“He took a chunk of concrete to the back. He went down fast, but he was alive. I should have grabbed him then,” Brody said, staring at the cards in his hand but not seeing them. Instead, images flashed of that mission. Of his friend’s face, fire flaring all around them, the air filled with concrete as sharp as shrapnel.

“You had an injured kid in your arms and a damaged leg. You were ordered to get her out.”

“I almost went back. I could have carried them both. She was hardly more than a handful. But she was terrified. Started screaming and crying when I turned back. I figured I’d drop her at the helo, go back and get Carter.”

“That’s SOP.”

“The building blew before I could get back.”

“It blew before any of us could get back.” Masters’s words were toneless, easy. But Brody heard the pain in them. Knew the guy was struggling with his own demons. They’d all had a job to do, had all been focused on getting it done. But they should have gotten Carter out.

“No man left behind.” Brody’s jaw clenched so tight he had to force the team slogan past gritted teeth. “I failed.”

“If you’d gone back, you and the kid would have gone down, too. You got out of there with five seconds to spare.”

“I should have grabbed him.”

“Did you show the president the big fat
S
on your chest when he pinned you with that medal?” Masters asked, rolling his eyes and laying down a straight. “I thought your call sign was Bad Ass. Not Superman.”

Despite the misery curled in his gut, Brody smirked.

“Talk it out, hit the gym, visit the range,” Masters suggested, folding his arms over the back of the chair and meeting Brody’s gaze. “But get over it.”

“You been reading psych books again?”

Masters didn’t smile. Instead, he slid his cards together, tapped them on the table a couple of times, then met Brody’s eyes. His own gaze was steady, rock-solid.

“I’m damned choosy about who I serve with. About who I trust to cover my back. I’d serve with you without question,” the guy said, his words too matter-of-fact to be taken as sappy or sentimental. “I have complete confidence, not only in your ability to do your job. But in the simple fact that if I go down, you’ll do everything in your power to get me out. I can’t offer up a higher trust than that.”

They were SEALs. Bred for action. Words were rarely necessary, and other than to geeks like Masters who obsessed with books the way some guys drooled over porn, they didn’t mean much.

But hearing his teammate’s trust, knowing the guy wouldn’t hesitate to take the field with him again, it went a long way to bridging that gaping hole inside Brody. The one he could no longer ignore.

“Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, Brody faced the decision that’d been lurking for the last two months, waiting for him to man up. “But until I know it, too, I’m no good to the team.”

Brody laid down his cards, stood and clapped his buddy on the shoulder, and strode out of the room.

Just before he hit the door, he heard Masters mutter, “Son of a bitch. Royal flush? Does he ever lose?”

12

S
O
THIS
WAS
what life was like without daily PT, constant training and an ongoing need to challenge himself to push the limits. No missions, no range practice, no combat.

It was sort of mellow.

Settled on Genna’s couch with her curled up at his feet working on her latest brainstorm, Brody watched familiar scenes flash on the television.

Mellow was an odd speed for him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it yet.

For ten years, he’d been going at full tilt.

The nineteen years before that had been spent on edge. Always ready to fight, always ready to run.

The last few months felt like turmoil.

But maybe, this week, he’d found peace. Or at least now that he’d pretty much decided his future, he wasn’t battling his own brain. That was close enough to peace, wasn’t it?

The irritating nag of a million doubts ran through his mind, mocking him. Okay, so he wasn’t at peace. So what. It wasn’t as if he’d ever been before.

He was happy, though.

His gaze shifted from the bomb-ravaged scene on the TV to the woman sitting at his feet.

Genna’s hair gleamed like black silk in the lamplight. He could only see her profile, but had to smile at the way her lips were moving as she made silent comments about whatever she was writing. Her enthusiasm, her wholehearted excitement over her new business, was pretty awesome. She didn’t let the obstacles, the issues with her family or the various questions he’d heard tossed her way slow her down. This was her dream and by damn, she was going to make it happen.

She was his dream, he realized.

Not just the hot sweaty kind. Although she’d ratcheted those up a few notches over the last couple of weeks. He’d never been a man who shied away from great sex, but clearly he’d been clueless to just what great was.

But Genna was more.

Sweet and fun, she believed in him. She gave him a feeling of contentment, of happiness, he’d never had. Never even knew existed.

As if clueing in that he was thinking about her, she flashed him a smile.

“Mr. Jenson said you and he had a fun chat today,” she said, looking up from where she was cozied between his thighs in front of the coffee table. She had a slew of papers spread over the surface, notes and sketches, at least three calendars and God knew what else. But it seemed to be making her happy. And that’s what he wanted. Her, happy.

“I stopped in the pharmacy to pick up my gramma’s prescription and he wanted to talk. I guess there aren’t too many people to share his Korean War stories with.”

“Well, there is the VFW and the American Legion. But everyone there has heard his stories. You’re fresh blood. And you’ve got rock star status, being a SEAL and all,” she teased.

Brody hoped she’d take his grimace as a smile.

Rock star.

Right.

That’d change in a heartbeat once word got out that he was leaving the navy. He’d be back to being a loser and deadbeat in everyone’s eyes. Except Genna’s. Which was all that he was going to let matter. He’d rather see the relief in her gaze than the worry he figured would be there if she had to see him leaving on mission after mission.

“How are the business plans shaping up?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.

“I’d thought it’d take a lot longer for word to get out that I’d started Sugar and Spice. I mean, I know this is mostly curiosity and test orders. It’ll level out in a month or so. I just hope it doesn’t level too much lower,” she mused, looking at a list of potential restaurants that were interested in carrying her desserts. “Or that my father would intimidate people out of ordering from me so I’d have to climb back under his thumb. I’m setting up a website. You know, a lot of bakers are having big success with next-day orders. And that way, even if my dad scares away locals, I’m still in good shape.”

Good plan. Then, his brows furrowed, he hit the pause button to freeze Jeremy Renner on the screen.

Would her old man really go that far?

“Have you talked to him at all?”

“My dad? Not since I told him I’d quit my job.” Genna shrugged. “But I have heard from the mayor four times this week.”

“He wants you to come back to work for him?”

“More like he wants me to talk you into changing your mind about being the guest of honor for his Honoring Our Heroes event,” she said, making it sound like a joke.

Brody’s jaw clenched and something ugly churned in his gut. Not happening.

But he’d already told her that a dozen times, so he didn’t bother repeating himself.

As if sensing his irritation, Genna shifted onto his lap. Liking how she fit there, he wrapped his arms around her waist, but his frown didn’t budge.

“You going to be okay with this?”

“With what? Sitting on your lap? Or playing messenger for the mayor?” she asked with a teasing smile.

He didn’t give a damn about the mayor.

“With the crap from your parents. I don’t like you taking heat for seeing me.”

Her sigh was a work of art, complete with a roll of those pretty blue eyes and a tap of her fingernails against his shoulder. Damn, she was cute.

“My father isn’t punishing me for seeing you,” she finally said. “I told you, I’m the one who told him to stay away unless he could accept my career decision. Not the other way around.”

“Are you thinking he’ll try scare tactics when the freeze-out doesn’t work?”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “But I told you, I’ve already figured out how to counter it if he does. I bartered a cake with a gal who does web design for her son’s graduation. She’s already working on an online store for me.”

“Look, I don’t want you to worry about the money stuff or let it slow down your progress. I know you’re set for the next few months, but if you run into trouble, let me know. I can help out.” He might not have a clue what he was doing with his life, any idea of where he fit in the world now or even where he’d be sleeping in six months.

But if he could help Genna make her dream come true, he figured he was set.

* * *

H
E
WANTED
TO
HELP
HER
?

“You’re serious?” she breathed.

It wasn’t a proposal, or a big emotional declaration. To Genna, it was even more. It was a promise that he’d be around. That they had a future, whatever that might look like.

Her heart melted in her chest, warm, soft and gooey. Unable to resist, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight.

Her smile was wide enough to split her face when she pulled away to brush a quick kiss over his lips. Then, happier than she could remember, she shook her head.

“No, but thank you.”

“What? Why not?” Brody scowled.

“That is the sweetest offer and I appreciate it.” Probably more than he wanted. But that was just one more reason she was madly in love with him. And yet another reason to be careful to protect herself. It was enough that her heart counted on him. She couldn’t risk her business, too. “But you stepped in to save me once. I don’t want that to be the basis for our relationship, you know?”