The SEAL's Best Man (Special Ops: Homefront Book 2) (5 page)

She glanced at him. “I’m not nosy. Just
curious. What do you have desert cammies for? Thought you said you were on subs
most the time.”

“When the war broke out, I volunteered
for a tour in Afghanistan after my first sub tour. The forces were pretty
depleted and tired. Chief of Naval Operations asked the Navy to help fill in
where the Army and Marine Corps were short.”

She moved onto another box, spotting
stacks of papers and files. “Why don’t you unpack all this? You’ve been here almost
two years, for Pete’s sake.”

“Waste of time to unpack the stuff I’m not
going to use anyway. It will just get re-packed when I PCS again.” He set down the
white box he was carrying on the console table.

“PCS?”

“Move. It’s what we call a military move.
Permanent Change of Station. But there’s nothing permanent about it. That’s why
lots of us just don’t even bother unpacking everything.”

“But that’s terrible. This is your home. You
should make it a place that welcomes you each night after work. Next time you
get a place, I’m going to decorate it for you. You really need help.” Leaning
over, she gently flipped through a group of frames leaning against the wall.
“You’ve got good stuff to work with, though. What is all this?”

“Awards, mostly. They give you something
framed just about every time you leave a job. Signed photos, plaques, stuff like
that.”

“You should have all this displayed.”

Jack shrugged as he went to a small
college-style fridge and grabbed a Sam Adams. “Want something to drink?”

“No. The lemonade was enough. I needed
it. Got hot out there waiting for you.”

“I was on time.”

“Yeah. I was early. Great view to look
for jobs online though.”

Slumping his broad stature slightly—a
rare sight—he said, “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Look for a job working for someone else.
You have too much talent to not have your own name on the door.”

“I need a guaranteed income. I may have
inherited my house free-and-clear from Gram, but I still have expenses.”

“You’ve got rental income.”

“From Lacey, yeah. But she’s leaving in a
couple months. And I told Bess to stop paying rent and put it towards tuition.”

Cocking his head, Jack raised his
eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me like that. She’s practically
family, you know? You’d do the same. It won’t be forever. She’s got only a few
more classes before she graduates. And then she can stop cleaning houses for a
living. It’s selfish really. I just can’t stand her walking into the house
reeking of Ajax.” She smiled.

Jack pressed his lips together
thoughtfully. “Could you charge more for Lacey’s room when you find a new
renter?”

Maeve sank into the couch, nearly wincing
at the sound of pleather rubbing against her cotton skirt. Pleather, and
probably a Craig’s List acquisition found curbside. God, this man needed help. “I
could. But I’m not sure where I’m going to find a renter who I’ll trust in the
house with Abigail.” Having a baby in the house really raised the stakes on
security in Maeve’s mind.

Jack sat beside her. “I hadn’t thought of
that.” He rubbed his five o’clock shadow. “Look. I have money. Like I told you,
I’m a saver. No strings attached, Maeve.”

Maeve just stared, lost in his green eyes
and hard-to-comprehend earnestness.

“I could help with the start-up costs. Get
you a website. Maybe some advertising in that free magazine you see all over
Annapolis.” Sitting next to her, his hand touched her leg innocently. “It’s
like you said about Bess. You’re like family. I want to help.”

She was torn between crying from his
sincerity and laughing from the sheer irony of what he had said.
Family?
If Jack was just family, why were her panties growing moist simply from having
his hand on her knee?

Oblivious, he scooted closer. “I just
don’t want to see you waste your talent on the wrong company again. Just think
about it, okay?”

“Okay,” she murmured, her eyes still
locked on his as her skin simmered beneath her cotton top. “And thanks. That
really means a lot.”

Tossing his hands aside casually as he
rose, he walked to his console table and picked up a box. “I’ve seen your work.
I think it’s a good investment.” He passed it to her. “Now. Ready to be wowed?”

She opened it, and felt a grin spreading
across her face. The invitations were classic. Just as she had imagined. Scrolling
raised red lettering on textured white stock with a tasteful border. “Couldn’t
be more perfect.”

“That’s what all the women say about me. But
what do you think of the cards?”

Maeve laughed. “They’re not so bad
either.” She thumbed through the contents. “I can’t believe you got them
printed so quickly. You’re a miracle worker. If we don’t give people enough time
to make plans to come, then we’re sunk.” She stared at her best friend’s name
on the card. “Wow. I guess this is really going to happen, isn’t it?”

“Lacey and Mick. It’s going to work for
them, you know,” Jack said, seeming to spot the skepticism building in Maeve’s
eyes.

“It has to. It just does. She loves him
so damn much.”

“It will.” Jack gave her a friendly
squeeze that seemed to last a second longer than it should.

And yet not nearly long enough for Maeve.

“So… invitations. Check. What’s next, wedding
planner?”

“
Everything
. Bess called six
different caterers that got good reviews online and had no luck with any of
them. Everyone is booked next month. I still haven’t found any kind of arch or
arbor for where they’ll actually say their vows that doesn’t look cheesy or mass-produced.”

“Ouch. You’ve just described half my
furniture.”

Maeve smirked, and glanced around the
room in mock appraisal. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that you
mention it—”

“You don’t really need an arch. The view
itself is great.”

“But I need to define the ceremony
space.” She exhaled slowly, picturing a white arch draped in delicate sheers,
punctuated by roses.

“Try a garden store. You know, one of
those arches that you grow vines on. My mom has one for her raspberries.”

Maeve’s shoulders drooped. “That’s not
the kind I’m picturing. I want something… different.” She paused. “Something
that has a more surprising profile to it. I don’t know…” Her voice trailed as
she pulled from her purse the set of calligraphy pens she had bought. She
handed him one. “Then there’s the dress. I already called a couple bridal
boutiques and they literally laughed when I told them I needed a dress in six
weeks. There’s a few samples we’re going to look at, but from the descriptions,
I don’t think they’ll pan out.”

“Why not?”

“The designers are too over-the-top for
Lacey. Picture bling on steroids.”

“Yeah. That won’t work for her. Besides,
for a backyard wedding, she needs something a bit understated. And nothing with
a cathedral train. Maybe an a-line or mermaid.”

Maeve’s jaw dropped. “How does a man who
has a sword and a stack of cammies know so much about wedding gowns? You’re
freaking me out here.”

“I have four sisters, remember? I’ve had
to survive more wedding gown talk than you’ve probably heard in your life.”

Not these days, Maeve pondered. For the
past two days she had watched every bridal reality show on TV and set her DVR
to record them indefinitely. Styles had changed so much since her ill-fated wedding
years ago, and Maeve had some catching up to do.

She sat at the tiny kitchen table he had
just cleared off. “So, we’re going to try one of those huge bridal warehouse
places off the beltway.” Maeve couldn’t resist a cringe. “Lacey won’t mind that
she’s wearing designer knock-offs and they have most of the dresses in stock.”

“She’ll look great in whatever she wears.
I never understood the big deal about weddings anyway. All the work and money
for just one day. Seems like some people want the wedding more than they do the
marriage.”

“Mine was a nightmare.”

Jack emptied the box of invitations,
reply cards, and envelopes. “The wedding or the marriage?”

Maeve scoffed. “Both.”

 “You deserved better.”

A vision crept into her head that
moment—of Jack eight years earlier getting dressed in his Navy whites
after their weekend fling. “Call me, Maeve,” he had said as he handed her his
number.

She never did.

I had my chance at “better.”

Lips pursed together, she couldn’t resist
touching his hand as it rested on the table alongside her, tempted to take it
into her own. The instant of warmth that passed between them from the touch was
unmistakable—the same magnetism she always felt—making it agony to
pull away.

But pull away she did, and she reached for
the first invitation. “So, the list is on my laptop. Ready to get to work?”

Sitting on the back porch, Bess’s fingers
tapped on the keyboard of her borrowed laptop, before slowing again to
appreciate the view. A thick fog hung over the mirror-still Bay making this
overcast day eerily stunning.

There was silence—and Bess savored
it. From the baby monitor alongside her laptop she could only hear a gentle
sigh from Abigail from time to time.

Biting her lip, she looked back down at
her computer reminding herself to snap out of it. She had work to do. If it had
been any other kind of homework, she’d never attempt to do it on the back porch
with the beckoning water as a distraction. But designing a web site for Maeve
as a final project for her class was an enjoyable way to round out her
semester.

She searched her files for a photo of
Maeve that Lacey had taken when they were on the water taxi to Eastport. The
photo was perfect for her bio page, with Maeve’s gorgeous hair tousled in the
wind and the crab pots bobbing in the water behind her.

The camera loved Maeve, and didn’t she
know it? But looking too perfect might be off-putting to potential female
clients. She needed to look approachable. In this picture, she looked like the
trusted friend that Bess knew her to be.

She grinned when, after a few clicks, the
photo appeared on the page in just the right place under her banner. Building a
webpage was a little like creating a tasty new recipe—her preferred way
of spending her scarce free time. Take a little of this, throw in a little of
that, a pinch of spice in the form of clip art, add some meat in the form of
text, and
Voilà
! She had managed to create something beautiful from
disparate parts.

Clicking save, her eyes wandered again. Touched
by the fog, Maeve’s small dock seemed to disappear into the Bay. Bess wished the
serenity of the view would somehow soothe her jittery nerves. She wasn’t
looking forward to having this conversation with Maeve. How would she react? And
what if she said no?

Her stomach lurched momentarily at the
sound of the front door closing and someone punching in the code to Maeve’s
security system. She slammed the laptop shut, wanting the website to be a
surprise for Maeve. Best to wait till it was complete.

Framed in the door, Maeve rested her hand
on her hip. “Where-in-the-Sam-Hill were you last night? You were supposed to
help Jack and me address the invitations, remember?”

Bess faked a dawning recollection. “Oh,
Maeve. I totally forgot.”

“I left three messages on your cell
phone.”

“You know I keep it off most the time.”
At least that was not a lie. Bess preferred to save her money and kept a burner
phone on her for use only in emergencies. “I hope you weren’t worried.”

“No. I checked with Lacey and she said you
were at school late.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Jack and I got
them done, even though my hand is still cramping up from it. Ninety-two invitations.
I just hope some of them can’t come. If everyone brings a guest, that’s twice
the people I’m hoping for.”

“Mick swears half of them won’t.”

“Hope he’s right. So, invitations are
done. Lacey and Mick picked out a photographer last night. That’s two things
off our list.” She sat beside Bess. “What’s your contribution to the wedding
planning efforts, lazy bum?”

Bess grinned. “Well, seeing as Abby took
her first steps this morning, I’m thinking I can offer one really cute flower
girl.”

Maeve’s eyes filled, exactly as Bess knew
they would. “Oh, you’re kidding. Our little girl is growing up, isn’t she?” She
touched her hand to her lips as though to suppress a small sob. For a person
who always said she didn’t want children, Maeve certainly was emotional about
every milestone in Abby’s life. “She’ll be such a perfect flower girl. We’ll
have you walk her down the aisle. I don’t want her to take a tumble.”

“I was thinking both of us could walk
her. One of us on each side.”

Maeve let a tear fall. She was a predictable
sap when it came to Abby. “That would make me so happy.”

“Great. Hoping that makes up for my
bailing on you and Jack last night.”

“Completely. But you better not do it
again.”

Not using the same excuse she wouldn’t. Truth
was, Bess was determined to make Maeve and Jack spend as much time alone
together as possible. There was no hiding that blush that crept up on Maeve
when Jack whisked her into his arms the other night.

Maeve might deny she wanted anything more
than friendship with Jack. But Bess knew the truth.

Sitting beside Bess, Maeve glanced at the
laptop. “What are you working on?”

“I’m supposed to build a website for a
final. It’s actually fun, but I just can’t concentrate on it anymore.”

“Why not?”

Glancing sideways at Maeve, she bit her
lip. “I was talking to Tyler this afternoon. He wanted to let me know he sent a
belated birthday gift for Abby. He just finished Ranger School, and they don’t
exactly have shopping and post offices available to them there.”

“That was sweet.” Maeve grinned. “Tyler. Well,
no wonder you’re distracted.”

A swarm of butterflies was loose in
Bess’s stomach as the image of Tyler in his Army uniform slipped into her mind.
He was the unattainable crush for her ever since she had met him last year while
he was a West Point exchange student at the Academy for a semester.

He probably never would have stayed in
touch with Bess if he hadn’t been the one to drive her to the hospital when she
had gone into labor. Every once in a while, she’d email him her latest photo of
Abby, and for some unknown reason, he’d reciprocate by sending her baby a gift
or two from time to time. He probably was just feeling sorry for the pathetic,
single mom that she was. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t make you blush like that,”
she said, lightly flicking her finger against one of Bess’s cheeks.

“You should talk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You were practically on fire a couple
nights ago when Jack laid his bad pick-up line on you.”

Maeve shifted uncomfortably. “Took me by
surprise, that’s all. So, um, what’s going on with Tyler?”

“Well, he happened to mention that one of
the first things they have you do in Ranger School is write a will.”

“How depressing. And it got you worried
about him.”

“Yeah, but it also got me thinking. I
don’t have one.”

“A will? Good point. You know, you can do
it online, I think. You don’t even need a lawyer. No worries.”

“Yeah. That’s not what has me worried.”

“What is it?”

“Well, think about it. If something
happened to me, I wouldn’t want Abby going to my parents. We haven’t even
spoken since I finally told them I had a baby. They’ve pretty much disowned me
till I come back to them groveling—and with a husband in tow.”

“Good riddance to them.”

“And obviously, I wouldn’t want her to go
to Dan—not that he’d ever figure out he was the father. But still.”

Maeve rested her hand on Bess’s shoulder.
“None of us would ever let Abby go to that abusive son-of-a-bitch. You don’t
have to worry about that.”

Good, Bess thought. This conversation was
headed in the right direction. “So I got thinking about who I’d want to raise
her if something ever happened to me. And the first person who came to mind is
you.”

Maeve eyes flew to hers, stunned.

“I mean, I know you always say you never
want kids, but there’s just a connection between you and Abby that really is so
strong.” It was undeniable how much Abigail loved being in Maeve’s arms, and at
times, Bess even felt a little jealous of the adoration.

Maeve looked uncomfortable. “What about
Mick and Lacey? They’ll be married and I know they want kids.”

Bess’s heart sank. “I’m sorry. You’re
right. And they’d be fine. I know you’ve said you didn’t want kids. I just
thought… Well, I don’t know. Forget I said anything.” Bess started to get up
from her chair.

“Wait.” Maeve touched her arm. “You’ve
got it wrong. I don’t think I’ve ever been so flattered in my whole life. It’s
just that—”

“I know. You don’t have to say anything. Really.”

“No, you don’t know. And I guess it’s
time you did.” Maeve sighed as she leaned forward in her chair. “I know I say
all the time that I don’t want kids. But actually the fact is, I just can’t
have kids.”

“What?”

Maeve took a deep breath. “About five
years ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

Bess felt the blood drain from her face.
“Oh my God. Maeve.”

“I’m okay now. Well, knock wood.” She
rapped her fist on the wood chair. “But anyway, after three rounds of chemo and
two rounds of radiation, the chances are nil that I’ll be able to have kids. I
was asked if I wanted to meet with a fertility expert and maybe save some eggs
before starting treatment, but Alan thought it was a waste of time. At the
time, I thought he just wanted me to get treatment quickly—I even thought
it was sweet of him to supposedly care more about me than having a baby with me
in the future.” She tossed a hand in the air. “It’s my own fault though. It was
my decision. But I was too overwhelmed to even think, much less make a decision
like that.”

“So there’s no chance at all?”

“Not without a miracle. And I think I
used up my miracle beating cancer.”

“Maeve, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you ever
tell me?”

Pushing herself up from the soft back
cushion, she moved one of the empty chairs in front of her, and put her feet up.
“I don’t like telling anybody. Half the reason I moved to Annapolis was to get
away from all the worried looks from people. So when I inherited this house and
decided to move in, I promised myself that I’d give myself a clean break from
it all. As best I can, anyway.”

Bess sat silent, suddenly remembering the
many shared glances between Lacey and Maeve from time to time. A whispered
conversation or two. It had always made her feel like something of an outsider.
“Lacey knows.” It was a statement, not a question.

Maeve nodded. “Caught me in a weak
moment. When you were in the hospital, actually, and we had painted Abby’s
room. I kind of fell apart on her.”

Bess felt guilt pinching her heart, even
trying to picture it. Maeve never fell apart. “My God. That must have been hard
for you. Watching me pregnant all those months. Welcoming Abigail. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you go through all that for
me? You never hinted that it might have been uncomfortable for you.” Bess
raised her palm to her mouth in a sudden recollection. “God, you even went to
the ultrasounds with me. Held my hand when I gave birth.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re like my sister,
Bess. You and Lacey. You’re the closest thing to sisters I’ll ever have,
anyway.” She laughed. “I love my brother but I don’t get to push him around
half as much as I do you and Lacey.” Maeve rolled her eyes with flourish when
Bess let a tear fall. “Oh, don’t go getting all emotional on me. Geez, you’re
almost as bad as Lacey.”

Bess laughed, wiping the tear. “Do Jack
and Mick know?”

“No.” Maeve gave herself a shake. “Not
just no.
Hell no
. And I want to keep it that way.”

“Why? You need the support of friends.”

“I don’t. What I need is for people to
continue treating me the way they do. What I need is to never look at the pity
or worry in someone’s eyes again.”

Bess nodded slightly. Even though she
couldn’t agree with Maeve’s decision, she’d respect her wishes. “When will you
be out of the woods?”

Maeve raised her eyebrows. “When are any
of us ever out of the woods when it comes to cancer? Five years cancer-free will
a good sign. Ten will be better. But I’m shooting for forever.” She paused,
glancing at the baby monitor as Abby let out a little gurgle. “So anyway, there’s
nothing I’d want more than to be your back-up for Abigail if something happened
to you. But I think you need to name a back-up for your back-up, you know? Just
in case.”

Bess stared out at the water, still
trying to digest all she had just learned from her friend. “Okay. I’ll name
you, and then put Lacey and Mick next in line.” Bess felt a shudder creeping up
her. “God, I don’t even like thinking about that.”

Maeve grinned. “You dying, or me facing
cancer?”

“Neither.” She gazed into the grey sky,
wishing a beam of light would break through the gloom. “What a crappy friend I
am.” The words had slipped past her lips, even though she hadn’t meant to speak
them aloud.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m so involved in my own life. So
focused on Abigail and college. I had no idea you were going through all that.”

“Ancient history. Don’t feel bad about
it. I’m kind of proud that you didn’t catch on. I like to keep it to myself.”