The SEAL's Best Man (Special Ops: Homefront Book 2) (4 page)

As a breeze rolled over the Severn River,
her eyes drifted, followed by her mind.
Jack.
Life was a lot simpler
before he had slipped back into her life. The divorce was final. Her scars,
both literal and figurative, were as healed as they’d ever be. And her new crop
of friends didn’t remind her of her past years in hell.

Pursing her lips together, she pulled her
eyes from the view and typed in the address of a popular job site. She punched
in a few words, checked off a couple boxes, and held her breath as she hit
“search.”

What she saw was bleak. There weren’t
many jobs out there for interior designers, even ones willing to commute to
Baltimore or DC. If she wanted a regular paycheck, she knew where she’d have to
look…

Retail. She could picture herself now, trapped
on a showroom floor surrounded by a sea of couches and recliners. It was honest
work, and she could still vent a little creativity helping clients go through
swatches and working up furniture arrangements on the cookie-cutter software programs
that most major stores offered customers these days.

But it wasn’t what she wanted. She loved
the thrill of walking into someone’s house, seeing its potential, transforming
it so that when they first saw their big reveal, their faces would light up
like little children on Christmas morning.

Sullen, her eyes floated upwards to the
view again, her mind wandering to what Jack had said. Build her own business? Not
now. Not with bills to pay, one housemate leaving her, and the other one broke.

Looking grim, she shut her laptop and
watched quietly as a few officers strolled by, teachers like Jack, presumably. She
could always tell the single ones—or at least she hoped they were
single—because they would invariably glance her way. She felt bolstered
by it. Even in boring flats, she could still turn heads.

Carelessly, she tossed them a smile in
return. Maeve knew she hit the genetic lottery when it came to her looks. But inside,
she felt like damaged goods—that pretty vase at Macy’s that everyone
wants on their table till someone sees a tiny chip or hairline crack, and
decides it needs to be put on the marked-down shelf for 75% off.

Sure, she could still turn heads. But later
they’d always be disappointed she wasn’t the “10” they’d presumed she was.

Another officer strolled toward her. She
didn’t know the first thing about rank insignias, but she could tell he was
someone important by how quickly the younger ones snapped to attention and
saluted.

Her eyes met his and shared a glimmer of
recognition. Recollecting his steely blue eyes as he came closer, Maeve felt
the strangest flutter in her stomach. “I remember you,” she said. “Mick’s old SEAL
commander, right?”

His broad smile boasted perfectly aligned,
white teeth. Maeve imagined his teeth wouldn’t dare
not
be straight. A
guy this tough would pull out any misaligned tooth with his bare hands and
smash it back into a proper position.

God, SEALs were sexy as hell. No wonder
Lacey fell so hard for Mick.

 “Old? That’s a dagger to the
heart,” he said. As he held his hands to his chest for dramatic flair, Maeve
couldn’t resist noticing the muscles in his forearms.

“Sorry.
Former
commander,” she corrected.

“Good memory. I saw you at Mick’s the day
I called him back to the SEALs. You must be his fiancée.” He reached down,
extending his hand.

Maeve laughed as she shook it. “No. Just
his friend. Actually, I’m going to be a bridesmaid in his wedding.”

“Wedding? That’s news to me and I just
talked to him last week. They set a date?”

“It’ll be in six weeks. We’re sending out
invitations today.”

“Hope I’m on that list.”

Raising her eyebrows, Maeve smiled coyly.
“Well, now, I could tell you but you haven’t given me your name yet, have you?”
A hint of her southern drawl came out. What was it about men like him that
brought out her inner belle?

“You’re right, Ma’am. Joe Shey. Mind if I
share your step?” He gave a slight nod to the empty space alongside her.

She patted the pavement. “Maeve Fischer. And
I’d love the company. Are you stationed here now?”

“No. I come up every so often to talk to
the mids about BUDS and life in the SEALs.”

“So… Joe Shey.” Maeve glanced down at her
computer and opened an Excel sheet. “Joseph A. Shey, Captain. Yep. You’re on
the list.”

“Good. I can look forward to seeing you
there, then. Of course, if I could take you out next time I’m in town, then I
wouldn’t have to wait so long.”

“Love to.” Maeve caught a glimpse of Jack
bounding down the steps toward them, and a hint of guilt pinched her heart. Why
was that? Jack and she were just friends. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t dated
half of Annapolis in the time he had been stationed here.

She waggled her fingers at Jack
innocently as he approached, and then turned her attention back to Joe. “Let me
give you my number.”

Joe glanced over to see Jack approaching.
“No need. I’ll find you.”

As Jack’s eyes met Joe’s he snapped a salute.
“Sir.”

Standing, Joe returned the salute. “Falcone,
heard you were joining Team 10 this summer.”

“Yes, Sir. Just found out today.”

“They’re a good team with a hell of a
CO.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Joe turned his attention back to Maeve. “Good
to see you again, Maeve,” he said and strode off.

Maeve’s eyes couldn’t resist following
him down the stairs and across the street. Joe had a magnetic presence that she
imagined worked well for him in the Navy. He commanded attention with no effort
at all.

Jack’s voice was clipped as he offered a
hand to Maeve, and eased her off the step. “Do you know him?”

“Joe?” Maeve shrugged carelessly as they
walked toward the parking lot. “I ran into him at Mick’s house once.”

He stopped. “Joe?”

“Yeah. Joe.”

Squinting his eyes against the late day
sun, Jack looked surly. “He’s Captain Shey to the rest of us.” Raising an
eyebrow, he must have noticed that she hadn’t yet pulled her eyes from Joe
disappearing into the distance ahead of them. “Isn’t he older than you go for?”

“If older men all looked like that, I
wouldn’t have to date younger men.” She smiled, and then let her grin fade. “Why
did he say you’re going somewhere this summer, anyway? You’re not leaving
Annapolis till next year.”

“I’m slated for an augmentee position
with Team 10. Just found out myself, actually. That’ll teach me not to get
behind in email.”

“What’s Team 10? Some team of physics experts
or something?”

Jack laughed. “No. SEAL Team 10.”

Maeve frowned. “But you’re not a SEAL.”

“Right. But sometimes they need guys with
particular experience to augment a mission.”

Panic edging into her heart, she froze on
the sidewalk. “Why would they want you?”

She hadn’t meant it to sound insulting. She
just didn’t like the idea of Jack on dangerous missions. She’d rather picture
him in his cute khakis at the front of a lecture hall, droning on about formulas
or some other nonsense.

Safe. That’s what guys like Jack were
supposed to be. Safe. Didn’t he know that?

Jack narrowed his eyes. “My nuclear
experience.”

“But you’re an academic. You’re a
teacher, right?” Maeve had always thought of Jack as a nerdy brain trapped
inside an Oh-My-God-bod that was too damn handsome to be risked doing anything
dangerous.

“This Academy post is actually the first
time I’ve ever taught. Most of my time, I’m on nuclear submarines.” Resuming a
brisk walk toward his truck, he didn’t even glance her way as he said, “Do you
want to write out the invitations today, or not? Because insulting my career
isn’t part of the plan this evening.”

“I’m sorry. Really.” Reaching out for his
hand, she felt a connection when they touched, just as she always did. “I’m
just shocked. That’s all. And worried.”

His eyes met hers. “That’s the nicest
thing you’ve said to me so far today. Come on. My truck’s just over there.”

Silently mulling the situation, Maeve
followed him. “Why don’t you live on base like Mick?”

“I’d rather get the housing allowance and
live someplace cheaper. I’m saving for something special.” He opened the
truck’s door for her. “Besides, I don’t feel like I’ve got some senior officers
looking over my shoulder all the time this way.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What are you saving
for?” she asked, climbing into his truck.

Jack grinned, eyes cloaked in mystery. “Maybe
you’ll get lucky one day and I’ll show you.”

On the short drive to Jack’s, Maeve
watched the streetlamps whiz by as they crossed the Naval Academy bridge. They
turned onto a neighborhood street lined with puffy cherry trees, and Maeve’s
eyes wandered to the picket fenced houses they passed. Each one, she would bet,
was filled with a family.

Kids.
Her eyes drifted to a little boy and girl as they turned another
corner. They looked at Jack’s approaching truck expectantly, standing behind a
homemade lemonade stand and waving hopefully. Jack would stop for them, she
knew. He was a sucker for kids. They could charge him $5 a cup, and he’d still
be opening his wallet.

Feeling a pinch at her heart, Maeve was
almost grateful for the reminder of why a relationship with him would never work.

Jack opened the window to what appeared
to be a blonde brother and his freckle-faced red-haired sister. Maeve hoped
their parents appreciated the gift they had in their children.

 Jack glanced at Maeve and said
under his breath, “Hope you like lemonade.” He turned to the children. “How’s
business today?”

The girl spoke up first. “Nothing yet. Do
you want some?”

“Do I ever,” Jack said with feigned
enthusiasm. “I’ll take one for myself and one for my friend here.” He pulled
out his wallet.

Glowing at the sight of crisp bills
passing through the window, the little boy shouted over the hum of the motor. “Thanks,
Mister Jack!” His slight lisp and crooked smile made him almost as endearing as
the Sailor sitting next to her who was always willing to stop for a child’s
lemonade stand.

Some woman would hit the lottery when she
found Jack. Some woman other than her. Maeve bit her lip uneasily at the thought.

“Thank
you
,” Jack said. After
handing a cup to Maeve, he chugged his quickly. “Just what I needed.” Giving a
wink, he rolled up the window and continued down the street.

“You know them?”

“Lexi and Grayson. Neighbors,” he added
as he turned into a driveway leading to a charming waterfront colonial with a
view of the Naval Academy in the distance.

Maeve gasped. “You live here?”

“Mmhm.”

“Why the hell aren’t we having Scrabble
nights at your place rather than mine? This place is huge.”

Jack laughed. “Because I live in a
basement apartment here. A retired Navy couple owns the place. It’s small, but
the location is perfect. I can launch my kayak right off their shoreline. When
I’m not at your place eating Bess’s latest, that’s usually what I’m doing.”

So that’s how you maintain a body like
that. Kayaking.
As he
stepped out of the truck, Maeve gave a stealth glance again at his build, how
his thick arms led a path to a broad back corded with muscles. Yep, that made
sense, she thought, her mind imagining him rowing a kayak along the Severn, the
sweat on his body glistening under the late day sun.

She’d bet half the women of this
community were perched at their windows with binoculars every time Jack hit the
water.

She stepped out of the truck after he
opened her door. “I’m jealous. This view is better than mine.”

Slipping alongside her as she walked
toward the water, he lazily rested his arm across her shoulders. “Depends what
you’re looking for. You’ve got the Bay. They’ve got the Severn.”

He gestured toward stairs leading down to
a bright red door. “I’ll show you the invitations. Is Bess still coming?”

“I’ve called her three times to remind
her, but she never picks up.” Once inside, Maeve’s expression twisted in
disapproval, understanding now why they weren’t hanging out at Jack’s as often
as they did at her home. Small, and crowded with cardboard boxes, his apartment
had serviceable furniture that lacked any style. Not a single splash of color.

God, the place could use an interior
designer. Maeve wished she had known earlier. She could have made this place
“home” for him, rather than just a place to sleep, eat chili, and clean his
uniforms. And now he was going. She felt a lump in her throat.

She ventured to a row of boxes along the
wall. “What’s all this?” Without even considering herself nosy—only
curious, of course—she peeked inside.

Jack sidled up next to her. “Old desert cammies.
Gear I was issued, but won’t need here. Stuff like that.” A hint of a smile
edged up his face. “Help yourself, Maeve. Don’t want you to feel nosy or
something.”