The SEAL's Best Man (Special Ops: Homefront Book 2) (19 page)

One day
. It would have to be soon. There weren’t many days left.

“And now the bridal party,” the
photographer said, and Maeve took her place alongside Vi and Bess.

“Is my mascara okay?” Bess whispered,
panic in her tear-moistened eyes.

“Perfect. I told you waterproof was the
way to go. Now just smile. I’m getting you a shot of bourbon after this.”

Bess laughed just as the camera snapped. And
snapped. And snapped again. Maeve’s face was starting to cramp. She looked at
Lacey, who shot her a desperate look.

“Is it possible to get a charley horse in
your cheeks?” Lacey asked.

“You’re doing fine,” Maeve assured her,
and held up a finger to the photographer to have her wait. “Stop smiling a
second and lick your upper front teeth. Better?”

“Ah, yes. Thanks,” Lacey said, slapping
on a smile again.

Jack sidled up to her after they were
done. “Old beauty pageant trick?”

Maeve laughed. “How’d you guess?”

His hand lightly traced her back. “Do you
have any idea how beautiful you are?” He kissed her deeply, his hand at the
small of her back holding her close.

The feeling of his lips tantalizing, she
nudged his mouth open, touching his tongue lightly and tasting the champagne he
must have had before the ceremony. He pulled her closer, till her body was
flush with his, and she could feel his arousal low against her belly. She toyed
with his tongue, savoring the moment of escape from the chaos of the wedding,
and finally pulling away, let out a low purr.

Jack’s eyes were at half-mast as he
smiled at her. “I’ve waited all night to do that. I knew you’d kill me if I
messed up your makeup before all the photos were done.”

“You know me so well.”

“Maeve, it’s frightening as hell to think
how well I know you.” He tucked a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear. “I
know how much it’s hurting you to see Lacey move away. I know how much your
heart swelled when you walked Abby down that aisle with her little flower girl
bouquet.”

Maeve bit her lip, nodding.

“I know how much you worry about Bess. And
I think I know how much you love me. Am I right?”

“Yes.” Her voice was husky, and more than
anything, she wanted to pull him close again rather than going inside for
cocktail hour.

“Good.” He leaned into her ear, his voice
low and tempting. “Because I also know a few of your favorite places to be
kissed. And I plan on confirming this tonight.”

His lips met hers again, teasing,
tasting, and tempting her to sneak him upstairs to her room right now. She
couldn’t wait to be alone with him.

Pulling back, he touched his finger to
her lips. “Now how about we go sample some of that food Bess whipped up?”

That’s not what she’d prefer to sample
right now. But it would have to do… until later.

***

The moon hung low in the sky, casting its
reflection onto the Bay and lending its soft glow to the crepe myrtle that had
been planted by Lacey and Mick that night. Maeve smiled at the memory, only
briefly wishing that Lacey would be here to see it blossom later in the summer.

Standing underneath the arbor, thick with
abundant white roses still clinging to it, she didn’t even have to look at her watch
to know it was long past midnight.

The night had been perfect.

Images of the evening danced in her mind
like snapshots that she would hold close to her heart forever. The sword arch,
with Jack at the helm. The surprise on Lacey’s face when he smacked her on her
rear with his sword and said, “Welcome to the Navy, Mrs. Ryan,” a Navy
tradition. Maeve hoped the photographer had managed to capture that moment.

Their first dance to Ella Fitzgerald’s
sultry voice. Watching Abby jump in glee when the DJ played Electric Slide. Seeing
Vi on the dance floor, wrapped up contentedly in Joe Shey’s arms.

And that moment when Maeve’s eyes met
Lacey’s, as she waved from the limousine that whisked them off to DC for two
nights in the honeymoon suite at a swank hotel, compliments of Edith. That
moment when a new chapter in Lacey’s life had begun.

And mine, Maeve pondered, thinking how
much emptier her house would be without her friend. Lacey and Mick would be
leaving for San Diego to close on a house shortly after they returned from
their DC getaway. Then they’d be off to a Hawaiian honeymoon, and after, Lacey
would return to her new West Coast home, not Maeve’s house in Annapolis.

“Gorgeous, are you tired?”

Maeve jumped at the voice of Jack behind
her.

“Because you’ve been running through my
dreams all night.”

He swept her into his arms in a dip, and
she remembered that day in her kitchen. Only six weeks ago, yet it seemed like
a lifetime had passed. Only this time, his lips met hers, setting her heart
aflame. Still holding her, his mouth moved to her neck, and down to where her
bare skin met the red taffeta of her strapless dress.

Suddenly, her fatigue vanished. “Maybe we
should go inside,” she offered suggestively.

“Not yet,” he said. “There’s something I
need to say to you.” He took both her hands, first kissing one, then the other.
“Maeve, that day two years ago when I saw you at O’Toole’s, I felt like I had
one opportunity to make something right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should have tracked you down, Maeve. Eight
years ago. I should have pounded on your grandmother’s door and demanded your
number. But I was young and cocky as hell. I thought you’d call.”

Maeve laughed. “But I was young and
stupid as hell, and thought I’d do better to find someone who was ready to
settle down.”

“Yeah. But then by some twist of fate,
you fell back into my life. And it took me nearly two years to figure out that
I even stood a chance with you. Two years.” He shook his head. “And now I’m
leaving.”

Maeve brushed her hand along his cheek. In
the low light, his face looked boyishly handsome. He was so strong, yet in his
eyes tonight, Maeve could see vulnerability. She kissed him tenderly, hoping to
offer him some of the strength he had always offered her.

Jack touched her chin affectionately. “I
wasted too much time. Six years. Then two years. I’m not going to waste time
anymore.”

He dropped to one knee and Maeve felt the
air rush out of her lungs at the sight of a ring in his hand.

“Maeve, I love you with everything I am
and everything I ever will be. I know this might seem too soon, and I
understand if you want a long engagement, or just some time to think. But I’m
not going to leave this town without you knowing exactly how I feel. Not this
time. Not again. And what I feel is that I can’t stand the thought of my life
without you. Marry me. Marry me tomorrow, next week, or next year. I don’t
care. But just say you’ll marry me.”

Yes!
The word ached to flow past her lips. As her tears fell, she
pressed her lips together to keep herself from speaking the one word her heart
longed to say.

“Jack. Oh, Jack.” She shook her head
slowly, a moment of blissful perfection turning into a nightmare more painful
than her cancer. More painful than her divorce. Even more painful than the day
her Gram died. As the moon disappeared behind a cloud, she sobbed
uncontrollably.

“What is it, Maeve?”

“I can’t. I can’t marry you, Jack.”

“Why?”

“Jack, your future is not with me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t give you children.”

“Maeve, we’ve been over this. I know you
can’t have kids and that’s fine. We can adopt. Or foster. Or we can just spoil
the hell out of Abby for the rest of our lives. I don’t care.”

“But you do,” she all be shouted. “For
two years now, all I’ve been hearing is how much you longed for a family. I
can’t let you give that up for me.”

“I’d give anything up for you, Maeve. Don’t
you get it? I’d give my life for you.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to. Don’t you
see? I love you too much.” She stepped onto the dock, needing to put some space
between them. “I can’t go through my life knowing that you sacrificed your
dreams of a family for me. I’ve seen what it’s like to bring a baby into this
world. I watched it with Abigail. Oh, Jack, it’s so beautiful.” The tears poured
from her. “How couldn’t you want that for yourself?
I
want it. I want it
with every fiber in my being, but I can’t have it.”

“Maeve—”

“But you can.”

He reached out for her, but she pulled
away.

“No. No, Jack. Don’t. Don’t make this any
harder on me.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked to the stars for
strength, but they had become hidden by clouds. The darkness suited the moment,
she thought abysmally. She could hide her pain in the darkness. “I won’t have
it, Jack. I can’t look at a man I love every day of my life, knowing that I
failed him. That I couldn’t give him what he wanted. That he had to compromise
to be with me.”

“It’s not like that. How could you even
think that?”

Maeve wrapped her arms around herself. “One
day Jack, you’ll thank me for this. And when that day comes, I hope to God
you’ll be my friend again. Because I do love you. I love you so much, Jack.”

“Let’s just talk this through.”

“Please, Jack. Please leave.”

“I’m not leaving till we talk this over.”

Maeve summoned the anger that was
building inside her. Anger at the cancer. Anger at fate. Anger would give her
enough strength to do what she knew needed to be done. “Then I’ll leave.”

She stormed up her back lawn to the
house, just as the first raindrops fell.

“Open up, Maeve!”

Maeve’s eyes flew open and she looked at
her clock. 11 a.m., it read. She wasn’t surprised to have slept in, having
cried all night. And the night before, for that matter.

The only thing that surprised her these
days was that she had any tears left.

“Open up, Maeve, or I’m coming in. So you
better be decent.” Mick pounded on her door.

Decent? Maeve hadn’t felt decent in
forty-eight hours, barely emerging from her room. Turning off her iPhone. And
not answering when Bess had told her Jack was trying to reach her.

She couldn’t talk to him. Not yet. Her
resolve was so tenuous, and she needed some space. Some time to remind herself
of the reasons they couldn’t be together.

Mick banged again, and Maeve buried her
face in the pillow wishing he and Lacey had stayed in DC a little longer than
two nights. Bess was hard enough to avoid. “Just come in,” she finally told
him. “It’s not like it’s locked, Mick.”

He opened the door. “What the hell do you
think you’re doing, Maeve?”

“Trying to sleep, Mick. And good morning
to you, too, Sunshine.” She pulled the duvet over her head.

“Oh no, you don’t.” He sat on the bed and
pulled the cover off her. “What the hell happened between you and Jack when we
left?”

“I’m guessing you already know.”

“Only what Bess told me, and she says
you’ll barely talk to her about it. She’s worried. We all are.”

“Jack never mentioned anything to you?” Why
did that bother her so much? Maybe he had woken up the day after his proposal,
grateful she had said no. He probably came to his senses, realizing that his
life would be more complete without her.

Her shoulders sagged as she sank lower
into the sheets. Maybe that’s why he had been calling her yesterday. To tell her
she had been right.

“He’s a guy, Maeve. We don’t share that crap.
Besides, he doesn’t even know we’re back from DC yet.”

“So? What else is there to say? He
proposed. I turned him down. Game over.” Her voice cracked as she said it.

“Only if you’re stupid.”

Maeve raised an unappreciative eyebrow. “Do
you think maybe Lacey could be the one giving me the pep talk right now? Because
you’re not very good at it.”

“Pep talk? You think that’s why I’m in
here?” He laughed. “Nope. It’s payback time.”

“Payback time?”

Mick crossed his arms. “About a year ago,
you banged on my door at the crack of ass, waking my neighbors, and nearly
causing an internal investigation at the Academy, all to tell me how stupid I
was to let Lacey go.”

She cocked her head, remembering. “You’re
exaggerating a little.”

“Not a bit. People still talk about it.
You attracted some serious attention that morning. But you got my attention,
too. And you were right. Letting go of Lacey would have been the dumbest thing
I could have done.”

“And you think the same applies here?”

“Hell, yeah. If you’re not ready to get
married, that’s fine. If you just want to date him longer, fine. But don’t push
him away because of some martyr bullshit.”

“Bullshit?” Her eyes ignited with anger
as she rose from her bed. “You call this bullshit? Me, not being able to have
kids? Me, falling in love with someone who for two years has said nothing else
except that he wants a family of his own? Do you know how much this hurts,
Mick?” She wrapped her robe around her, arms aching, body shaking. Tears
streaming from her eyes, she looked at herself in her armoire mirror and barely
recognized herself. “What else could I do? Let him change his life plans just
because of me?”

Mick stood next to her, gazing at her
reflection in the mirror, letting the silence fill the room for longer than she
had expected.

“Yeah,” he finally said thoughtfully. “Yeah,
I guess you’re right.”

She should have been happy he had conceded,
but it pained her to hear it. “See?” she said, wiping her damp eyes on her
robe’s sleeve.

“Yeah, I guess if I found out Lacey
couldn’t have kids, I’d probably have to move on, too.”

“
What
?”

Mick shrugged. “Having kids—that’s
a big deal. You get married and that’s just kind of the expectation. I guess I
can see what you mean.”

“You son of a bitch!” A rage surged
inside of her, and her fist flung, stopped only two inches from his face by his
hand.

Mick’s eyes flashed in triumph. “Aha! So
you think it’s okay for Jack, but not for me?” He released her hand. “Maeve, I
don’t give a rat’s ass whether Lacey and I can have kids together or not. I
married her because I want to spend the rest of my days with her.
Her
. Anyone
else that comes into the picture later is a bonus.” His eyes never left hers. “So
why do I get to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love, and Jack
doesn’t?”

“He’d be happier without me.”

“You really think that? Or is it just
pride that’s holding you back? You hold back on everything and everybody, don’t
you, Maeve? You didn’t even tell us you’d had cancer because you like that
feeling of being superior to us.”

“Superior? It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh yes, it was. Perfect Maeve in her
waterfront house with her BMW and more clothes than a woman could wear in a
lifetime. Perfect Maeve who acted like men were little pets that you could take
or leave. Perfect Maeve who couldn’t trust that her friends loved her for
her
,
not for her house or her shoes or her car. Or for this mask of perfection you
wear.” He paused with a grin. “Though I really do love your car.”

She almost smiled at his last comment,
but her mind flashed back over the past two years. “I never meant it that way,”
she said quietly.

“And now you’re Perfect Maeve who won’t marry
Jack because it would make you feel flawed. You can’t be flawed. Not you.” He
shook his head at her in the mirror. “Can’t spend the rest of her life with
someone who might think she’s anything but perfect.”

There was a quiet knock at the open door.
Maeve glanced over to see Lacey.

Maeve narrowed her eyes. “It’s about time
you rescued me from this brute.”

“From what I heard in the hall, I think
he made some good points.” She wrapped her arms around her friend.

Bess peeked in. “You okay?

“Barely surviving,” Maeve admitted.

“You should have called me,” Lacey admonished,
squeezing her tight.

“And disturb your mini honeymoon in DC? Never.
How was it?”

“Magical. And a hell of a lot better than
what’s been going on here.” Lacey held out her hand, dripping with borrowed
jewels. “I have some jewelry to return.” Her smile was timid.

“Thanks,” Maeve said quietly.

“I’m so sorry about what happened. I wish
you’d change your mind.”

“Me too,” Bess added. “I think you’re
making a huge mistake.”

“What is this? An intervention?” Maeve
smirked, taking Gram’s necklace and earrings from Lacey’s outstretched hand.

“I know you love him, Maeve. You’re
breaking his heart. And your own,” Lacey reminded her.

“It’s for the best, you guys.” She
lowered the jewelry into the box, briefly touching the medal from her Gram’s
lost love that rested at the bottom. “Jack will fall in love again. With
someone right for him. More right than me.”

Lacey reached for the medal that had
caught Maeve’s eye. “Like your grandma did?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?” Mick asked, reaching for
the medal.

“Something of her grandma’s,” Lacey
answered. “Maeve thinks it belonged to someone she loved before she married
Maeve’s grandfather.”

Mick took it, flipped it over, and over
again, and shrugged. “Not unless she was married in the last decade or so. This
is pretty new.”

Maeve looked at Mick. “What?”

“Yeah. The older ones have a different
design. Not very different. But different enough. This is definitely recent. Looks
the same as the one I got when I graduated from the Academy.”

“Then who would it—?” Maeve’s mind
wandered to a weekend eight years ago. Buttons popping off uniforms. Pins falling
to the floor…

And medals.

Oh dear Lord.
She pressed her hand to her mouth. The
medal was Jack’s.

Jack must have lost it from his uniform
that weekend after his graduation. Her grandmother had found it. Gram had known
that Maeve had had a weekend fling while she was housesitting. And her
grandmother had kept the medal all these years.
Why, Gram?

Maeve’s eyes flew out her bedroom door to
the photo of her grandmother in the hall. “Destiny sometimes needs a push,” she
could almost hear Gram telling her.

Maeve thought back to the day her
grandparents had returned from their trip. Maeve had been in an emotional haze,
still glowing from the blissful 48 hours with Jack, but filled with regret that
she had destroyed Jack’s number. She had slapped on a smile for her
grandparents, but Gram must have known something was wrong.

And then she had found the medal.

Gram had known her granddaughter had lost
her heart to the man who lost this medal. And her grandmother had kept it,
hoping that one day they would reunite.

My God.
Maeve’s eyes darted around her room, out to the hall, picturing
every room in the house and the yard she had cherished these past two years. Was
that why Gram had given Maeve the house? With the hope that she’d find him
again, here in Annapolis?

It made perfect sense. Why else would
Maeve have inherited the house rather than just letting it go into probate to
be split between her and her brother?

So many questions, Maeve thought, gazing
at the photo again, Gram’s image reaching out to her from decades past.

Suddenly, Maeve knew the answers.

“Oh, Jack,” she said quietly.

“What’s wrong?” Lacey asked.

“Only everything.” Maeve took the medal
back from Mick and touched it to her lips. “Out. All three of you. I need to
get dressed.”

“Where are you going?” Bess walked
backwards out the door.

“To give destiny a push.”

***

Pride?
Maeve pressed her foot against the accelerator as she sped
across the Navy bridge. Above all the glaring realizations she had made that
morning, she hated most figuring out that Mick was right.

He wasn’t the type of man to let her
forget it.

And she never would. Destiny had brought
Jack back into her life, with maybe a nudge from Gram. Yet Maeve had stood
there in the aftermath of a romantic wedding, beneath a rose-covered arbor she
had built with Jack, and she had let pride stomp destiny into the grass beneath
her.

Pride: 1. Destiny: 0.

Not any more.

She turned onto the quiet street that led
to Jack’s, giving a quick wave to little Grayson as he rode his bicycle in
circles on his driveway. No lemonade stand today, she thought. And thank
heaven, because she couldn’t waste time stopping.

The movers had come this morning. Maeve
didn’t need the calendar on her iPhone to remember that. She had etched the day
into her brain, dreading it for weeks. But with luck, she might catch him before
they left.

In the distance she could see the house,
but there were no trucks in front of it. No movers lugging furniture and boxes.
The house was still.

He was gone.

Biting her lip, she pulled into the
tucked-away driveway, now buried in fluffy hydrangeas. His truck peeked out at
her from behind the leaves, sending a surge of anticipation down her spine,
making her palms sweat.

She wasn’t too late. Shutting her car
door behind her, her steps toward his door slowed as her brain tried to find
the right words. What
was
she here to say? She didn’t really know. That
she had been a fool. That she was lucky to have a man like him. That she wasn’t
nearly as healed from the battles she had fought as she had liked to think.

That he was her destiny.

Her hand rose to knock, but then froze. What
if he had changed his mind? Maybe… but she still couldn’t leave things the way
they were.

Not knowing what she would say, she
tapped on the door, lightly at first, then harder when he didn’t answer. Again,
she knocked and waited, as butterflies created havoc in her stomach.

But the house was quiet, so silent that she
could hear the water lapping against the rocks and the hum of a boat or two as they
powered down the Severn River.

Where was he? He couldn’t have left
without his truck.

She stepped into the backyard, and saw
the hammock was gone. He’d hang it at his new home, she imagined, hoping she’d
be able to see it first-hand. She pictured him for a moment, his strong legs dangling
over the side of the hammock as he snoozed, an open book resting on his chest.