She’d thought she could never be happier than she’d been the moment she went to her knees in front of Aidan, cupped his face, and agreed to be his wife.
Wrong, again.
Because then they got married. Her absolute best day—standing next to Aidan in that tiny little wedding chapel in Las Vegas and pledging their lives and love to each other while his parents and all three of his sisters stood close by.
Zoe switched to charcoal and started adding their rock to her drawing. She felt more than heard Aidan chuckle behind her. The last time she’d drawn their sunset, she’d added a naked couple—them—to the rock where they now sat. She had a slightly different plan for tonight’s rendition.
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “I’ll never forget the day you dropped that pad on the counter and I saw what you’d drawn.”
She tilted her head, giving him access. “What was the first thing that popped into your mind when you saw it?”
His breath was hot against her skin. “I’m certain I said my first thought out loud.”
“Holy fuck,” they said together and laughed.
“What are we going to get up to in the drawing tonight?” he asked as she added the outline of a man on the rock. “Since it’s our anniversary, please tell me it’ll be naughty.”
She didn’t take the time to draw every last detail of Aidan’s body. That would take forever. She tended to get lost in creating the finer points of all those muscles. She had to work fast. The sun was sinking, and soon, she’d run out of light.
“Maybe not so naughty on paper, but you can be as naughty as you like once we get back to the room,” she promised. They were staying at a hotel in Boulder City, just a few miles from where they were, so they wouldn’t have to make the forty-minute drive back to Las Vegas tonight.
In the cradle of the man’s legs, Zoe added the shape of a woman. She’d drawn them in profile, and from that angle, the woman’s protruding belly was obvious.
Her hands shook as she heard Aidan suck in a breath. She couldn’t contain her smile.
He snatched the pad from her hands. She sat up and turned so she could see his reaction up close.
Aidan traced the tips of his fingers over the woman’s belly, his lips slightly parted. “Zoe?” His hopeful, almost reverent, expression brought tears to her eyes. “Are we…?” His gaze snapped to hers.
She bobbed her head. They were going to have a baby. “We—”
His mouth was on hers before she could get the confirmation out. He immediately gentled, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips. She gave him what he wanted. What they both wanted. She opened her mouth and let him in. Slow and easy, he made love to her mouth, letting her know through his touch how much she was treasured. Loved.
“Zoe,” he said when they came up for air, his voice thick with emotion.
“I know.” Because she felt it too. The overwhelming sensation of having created a life.
“I love you.” He pulled her back against him and laid his hands against her belly. “And I love you, whoever you are in there. Daddy loves you.” His voice cracked, but her big, tough SEAL held it together. “Christ, Zoe. How is it possible to love someone so much when we haven’t even met the little tyke yet?”
“We love you, too, Aidan. Daddy.”
Tears spilled onto her cheeks as she laid her hands over his.
“Shh,” Aidan soothed, humor in his tone. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you.”
She’d been wrong again.
This, this was the happiest she’d ever be.
And with Aidan at her back, his hands cupped protectively over the place where their baby was growing inside her, Zoe knew she’d be wrong again, over and over, for the rest of her life.
More SEAL’s in Paradise
Season 1:
Hot SEAL, Salty Dog by Elle James
Hot Seal, S*x on the Beach by Delilah Devlin
Hot Seal, Dirty Martini by Cat Johnson
Hot SEAL, Red Wine by Becca Jameson
Hot Seal, Cold Beer by Cynthia D’Alba
Hot Seal, Rusty Nail by Teresa Reasor
Hot Seal, Single Malt by Kris Michaels
Hot Seal, Black Coffee by Cynthia D’Alba
Season 2:
Hot SEAL, Tijuana Nights by Cat Johnson
Hot SEAL, Hawaiian Nights by Elle James
Hot SEAL, Savannah Nights by Kris Michaels
Hot SEAL, Australian Nights by Becca Jameson
Hot SEAL, Roman Nights by Teresa Reasor
Hot SEAL, Alaskan Nights by Cynthia D’Alba
Hot SEAL, New Orleans Nights by Delilah Devlin
Season 3
COMING 2020: Hot SEAL WEDDING EDITION
Prologue
“Honestly Amanda, he wasn’t good enough for you,” Samantha said as she tossed back a shot of cinnamon whiskey.
“You never complained about him before.”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I think your boyfriend is a douche’? Yeah, right.” Sam snorted. “That would have gone over well.”
Another shot.
“That’s exactly what you should have said,” Amanda huffed, but she knew Sam was right. Dammit. “Are you here for moral support or to get drunk?”
“The two have to be mutually exclusive?”
Amanda snickered at her best friend.
“I’m the one who got cheated on, and you’re the one getting drunk. How does that work again?”
“Wasn’t planning on doing it alone.” Sam winked as she sailed a tiny tumbler across the table to her.
Amanda poured the fiery liquid into the glass and took her shot. She shuddered, embracing the warmth that infused her body and mind, and she relaxed for the first time in days.
“So”—Sam waved a finger at her—“do the three horsemen of the apocalypse know about it yet?”
Her brothers. Sweet Jesus, when they found out it was going to get ugly. And potentially bloody. Those boys did love a good fight. She almost felt sorry for Scott. Almost.
“God, no. I have enough to deal with without adding those three to the mix. They seem to think their sole purpose in life is to defend my honor.” She rolled her eyes. “What they end up doing is just irritating the crap out of me with their Neanderthal bullshit. I don’t need to be bailing their asses out of jail, again I might add, because they’ve got testosterone poisoning.”
Amanda considered her friend. “You know they hate it when you call them that.”
“All the more reason, my friend. All the more reason.” The gleam in Sam’s eye was sinfully wicked as she raised her shot in silent toast.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” Amanda blurted, hating the pitiful twang of her voice. “I’m getting a serious complex here. I mean, what am I supposed to do now?”
She stared into her empty shot glass like she’d find the answer magically spelled out at the bottom.
“Call the horsemen. Set up the ass kicking. Sell tickets.” Sam giggled like a five-year-old.
Amanda narrowed her eyes, letting a sound of pure frustration pass her lips.
“Fine.” Sam slammed her empty glass on the table so hard it shook. “Want to know what I think? I think you need to get laid.”
Amanda’s head fell back on the edge of her chair. “That’s your answer for everything.”
“Maybe not the answer to everything, but it sure would help you get your mojo back.” Sam’s tone became serious. “Listen, Amanda, you need to get away. Take a vacation. Find a gorgeous stranger and have wild monkey sex with him. Be spontaneous.” Sam smiled at her as she refilled their glasses.
Amanda tossed back her shot. “I fail to see how that’s going to help me.”
Sam gave her a droll stare. “Of course you fail to see how it will help. That’s precisely why you need to do it.”
1
Amanda Martin pulled her car into the parking lot. She stared at the small building that served as the local watering hole be
fore she turned off the ignition and slumped back in her seat.
Cheated on again. This must be some kind of record.
So far, the only two serious relationships she’d had were colossal failures. It took her first ex all of six months to jump into another bed. Well, that she knew of anyway. Chances were he’d cheated long before coming clean, telling her he just couldn’t see himself with her forever. As if she were deficient or something.
She’d convinced herself that Scott, her most recent of disasters, was different. He was charismatic and sweet. Okay, so the sex wasn’t mind-blowing, but they’d had it on a regular basis. So what the hell happened?
She’d caught the bastard in bed with another woman.
His secretary. Jesus.
She snorted in disgust. She didn’t know if she was madder that he’d cheated on her or that he’d turned her into a cliché. She figured she should be way more pissed off about the cheating. The fact that she wasn’t meant she’d wasted the last year of her life on average sex with a guy she didn’t really care about. Wouldn’t that make her family proud?
And now here she sat in all her pathetic-ness, feeling sorry for herself.
In the parking lot of a bar in Nowhere, Texas.
What the hell am I doing?
Amanda liked the stability of a steady relationship. The idea of bouncing from man to man just didn’t appeal to her. But maybe Sam was right. Maybe it was time for her to change her ways. Shake things up. Maybe a one-night stand was just what she needed. After all, she was young and relatively attractive.
She could do this, couldn’t she?
Right. Time to buck up or shut up.
The gravel crunched under her boots as she made her way across the parking lot. Two cars flanked the front door and she breathed a sigh of relief that the place wouldn’t be overly crowded. She tried to act casual, stopping just inside the door to let her eyes adjust to the light—or lack thereof.
The smell of stale beer and peanuts hung heavy in the darkened interior. Tables were spread around the perimeter of a small, open area she assumed was used for dancing. The jukebox belted out an old Hank Williams tune while its neon glow permeated the light haze of cigarette smoke. The other side sported a shuffleboard table and a pool table, along with several stray chairs turned this way and that. The bar ran the length of the back, with doors on each end, one marked Private and the other indicating restrooms beyond. She sauntered toward the bar, the butterflies in her stomach the only betrayal of her nervousness.
Two men played pool, swaying and obviously drunk, and eyed her curiously as she slid onto a barstool. They both wore jeans that had seen better days, worn through the knees and streaked with dirt. Their grease-stained T-shirts and ball caps made her wonder if they’d rolled out from underneath a truck before walking in here.
The taller of the two offered her a calculating smile, showing off the yellow stain of his teeth.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“What’ll ya have, miss?” The bartender asked, keeping a purposeful eye on the two playing pool.
“Whiskey. Straight up.” She’d gone for confident, but ended up just sounding cheesy. All she needed was to fist bump the bar and she’d be in an old Western.
“Whiskey. Right,” the bartender said with humor in his voice. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
“No, I’m just here for the week. I’ve got a place not far from here.”
“I see,” he said, raising his brows in surprise. “So, what brings you to our fine establishment?”
He slid a drink to her.
“Fine, huh?” Amanda looked around. “Guess I was lucky to find a seat,” she joked.
He flashed her a gorgeous smile. Stretching his arms out, he indicated to the rest of the room. “You just missed the rush. Ten minutes ago we were packed to the gills.”
The mischievous gleam in his eye told her he was lying. He was working for what would probably be the only tip he saw all night. Amanda laughed, swirling the amber liquid around in her glass before taking a sip.
“Name’s Jacob, but most folks just call me Jake.”
“Nice to meet you, Jake.”
He considered her a moment. “You got a name?”
She laughed again, blushing. She really needed to work on her flirting skills. “Amanda. My name is Amanda.”
“Nice to meet you, Amanda.” His gaze darted to the two men slowly approaching the bar.
“Yeah, Amanda,” the taller of the two said, “it’s very nice to meet ya.” He took the bar stool to her left while his buddy chuckled and stumbled to the seat on her right. They stunk of alcohol and cigarettes, the combination making her eyes water.
Oh, this was a very bad idea.
“No trouble in here tonight, boys,” Jake warned. “Back off.”
“Aw, we don’t want no trouble, Jake. We just wanna talk to the li’l lady here.” The man to her left reached out to touch her hair.
“Let’s not with the touching, big man.” Amanda veered away. There were some things she wouldn’t stand for. Invasion of her personal space was definitely one of them.
“That’s enough, Clete.” Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “Not gonna say it again.”
Amanda slammed back the rest of her whiskey, ignoring the fact that it fried a hole in her stomach as she signaled Jake for another. “Hey, Clete”—she looked him dead in the eye—“how about I buy you and your buddy a beer and you go back to your game of pool?”
Then I can get the hell out of here.
“You’re a mite more in’eresting than playin’ pool, sweet thang.” Clete weaved toward her.
Amanda boldly pushed at the man’s chest. “While that may be so, I’m much more interested in being left alone.”
“She’s got a mouth on her, that’s for sure.” Clete’s buddy leaned in until she could feel his breath on her neck.
Amanda’s blood began to boil. She didn’t need this shit. She was here to blow off some steam, not be harassed by a couple of smart-assed drunks.
“Get. Off.” Amanda shoved her elbow into the man behind her. Having grown up with three brothers, she had no doubt she could defend herself, but she had enough common sense to know when it was time to go. Sliding off her bar stool, she reached into her pocket for cash to pay for her drink. She noticed Jake moving toward her side of the bar.
“Where you goin’, li’l lady?”
She felt a hand slide over her ass. Amanda froze.
Oh, hell no.
Before she could stop herself, she balled up her fist and swung around hard. She made contact with the man’s jaw with a sickening crack.
“Listen up, fuckwit,” Amanda spat as she watched Clete fall from his bar stool and land on the floor with a thud. A mixture of adrenaline and fear caused her voice to quiver. “I told you not to touch me.”
She flexed her hand. Yep. That was gonna hurt in the morning.
Jake was there in a heartbeat, placing himself between her and the men. Better late than never, she supposed. His palms were up to each side, his dark eyes darting between them as if he wasn’t sure who he needed to protect from whom.
Clete was still on the floor, his buddy laughing over him. “She sure showed you, Clete,” his friend slurred.
“Shut up, Ernie.” Clete glared at Amanda, retribution burning in his eyes.
That’s it.
She’d thought she would come here to unwind with a drink or two. Maybe find a gorgeous guy to have sex with. Now she was pissed, her hand hurt like the devil, and all she wanted was her couch and an ice pack. And maybe to kick Sam’s ass for talking her into this little fiasco in the first place. And maybe another bottle of whiskey.
She wondered if Jake would sell her a bottle for the road.
A voice, low and full of menace, drifted from behind her just seconds before she felt him. Well, not so much felt as sensed. Like a rabbit would sense it was about to become coyote
kibble. His heat penetrated her back. Amanda stiffened as she felt his hands move over the skin of her arms, hovering but not actually touching.
“What the fuck, Jake?” he growled.
Amanda spun to look at the man behind her and came face-to-face with his pecs.
Oh. Wow.
Her gaze roamed upward. He was well over six feet tall. Over six feet of powerful male. His black T-shirt strained against the pressure of containing all those muscles. Before she could stop herself, she leaned forward to take in his scent. Her head spun as the dizzying combination of leather and sandalwood drifted through her. She turned away before he noticed the heat that flooded her cheeks.
“It’s under control, Joe,” Jake snapped.
Joe pointed at the two drunkards. “You have one minute to get your shit and get out of my bar.” He gently, cautiously, touched her arm. “Are you okay, slugger?” His mouth was so close to her ear she could feel his breath on her neck. His husky voice reverberated down her spine. The heady combination caused a reflexive shiver to run through her body.
His eyes narrowed dangerously on Clete. Clearly mistaking her reaction for fear, he growled, “Make that thirty seconds.” He eased protectively in front of her.
Clete swore an oath as he pushed to his feet and stumbled toward the door. His friend followed close behind. Joe led her back to the stool she’d just vacated. “Here … sit.” His large hands engulfed her shoulders as he bent to look into her eyes. “Slugger?”
Amanda got her first good look at him. Her mind went blank. A strong jaw that narrowed slightly at the tip of his chin sported a dark five o’clock shadow. His lips were red and full and entirely too inviting. Jet-black hair fell in disarray around his face, thick locks waving across his forehead. And he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Eyes that were narrowed in concern for her.
She cleared her throat. “Amanda,” she rasped. Okay, so she could talk. Sort of. “I’m Amanda.”
“Amanda.”
Good Lord!
Her name on his lips was like a caress that went all the way to her core. She went instantly wet. She clenched her legs together and took a deep breath.
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