Hot SEAL, Best Man (SEALs in Paradise)

by Parker Kincade

  “Turn here!” Rooster yelled suddenly, slapping his palm against the back of C-Note’s seat.

  C-Note slammed on the brakes and whipped the two-ton truck onto an unpaved drive. The seatbelt locked up, reminding Evan of the small velvet bag in his pocket as its contents bit into his hip. Not that the bag was ever far from his mind. He’d been carrying it for weeks.

  “Christ, Blackwell.” Evan raised his palm and braced it against the roof of the truck. The heavy truck’s suspension took a beating as they shot down the rough drive, the rear tires spitting dirt and rocks behind them. “If we’re late, Davis will suggest that every INFIL is a HALO.” Evan shot C-Note a grumpy look. “But the threat’s no good if we’re dead.”

  “I’ve got this,” C-Note said again. His expression was a little too gleeful as he wheeled the truck between two fence posts, shooting them into a pasture that had—by the evidence of all the cars—been converted into event parking.

  “I can’t believe Davis is having some frilly, white wedding,” Rooster said with disgust as they all threw open their doors and jumped from the truck. “She’s more guns and camo than sterling silver and lace.”

  Evan cackled. “Aw, don’t be bitter that you had to dress up, Rooster. Davis can have whatever kind of wedding she wants.” Evan hadn’t completely reformed his stance on weddings, but he finally understood what John had been talking about. Evan would move heaven and earth to make Presley happy. Whatever form or shape her desires took, Evan was the man who would make them happen. The sheer pleasure he got from making her smile was worth any sacrifice—even if that meant having a large wedding like the one they were about to attend.

  Evan redirected his attention to Rooster. “You’re just pissed because she nailed your ass at paintball.”

  Rooster punched his shoulder. “She got you too, asshole.”

  “I hate to interrupt this stimulating conversation but…” C-Note turned in a circle, looking around. “Where are we going?”

  Evan joined the search. There were people everywhere. And tents. Davis really had gone all out.

  “There,” Evan said, pointing toward the white tent at the center of all the action. That had to be it.

  The three of them took off running.

  “Time?” Rooster asked.

  “Four minutes,” C-Note said. “We’ve got this.”

  Evan was going to kick his ass if he said that shit again. If the guy could’ve kept his dick in his pants for five minutes, they wouldn’t be racing across a pasture while in fucking uniform. Evan hated running in his dress uniform.

  “Where’s the wedding?” Rooster asked as they jogged under the tent.

  The kid setting the table pointed down the hill. Fuck. “Down there. It’s in the rose garden.”

  C-Note cursed. “Double time, men.”

  Plotting Blackwell’s death, Evan picked up his pace. The loose rocks and dirt made the going twice as hard, but they were SEALs. They pushed on.

  As they turned a bend in the road, white streamers and flower-filled vases came into view. They were a good minute away.

  “Kick it,” Evan demanded. “I hate HALOs.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Rooster replied as they all upped their speed.

  “Back row.” C-Note pointed. “I see three chairs.”

  They skirted around the side of the pavilion open to the back. Evan spotted the three chairs. Each one had a sign taped to the back. One said, “Bravo One.” The other two were the same. “Short straw losers.”

  There was the Ensign Davis that Evan knew.

  Davis was a commissioned officer who worked with the teams. When word got around about her wedding, she’d insisted representatives from their team be in attendance, but she’d teased that she knew no man would willingly agree to go. As their leader, C-Note had no choice. From the signs Davis left for them, it was clear she thought they’d had to draw straws to see who C-Note’s plus-two would be.

  She wasn’t be far off, since C-Note had blackmailed him six months ago in order for Evan to get his help cleaning out the barn for his buddy John’s wedding.

  Evan exchanged a grin with the guys as they slid into the chairs that had been saved for them. The second his ass hit the seat, music started to play.

  Evan pressed his hand to his mouth then dragged it down his chin. Jesus. That was close.

  “See?” C-Note whispered from his chair on the aisle. “I told you we had plenty of time.”

  Evan chuckled. Bastard.

  As they settled in, Evan laid his palm over his pants pocket. Lately, he’d pulled the ring out of its plush sack more and more, his sense of urgency growing with each passing day. He’d stare at Presley’s ring as if the answer of when would be reflected back in the twinkling diamonds.

  So far? Nada.

  As he watched the officiant, groom, and groomsmen take their places down front, he couldn’t help but imagine himself there. John would be by his side, along with his brother Josh and his teammates, as Presley walked toward him, her lovely face full of sunshine and promise. He even looked forward to her tears, because he knew there would be tears of joy as he vowed to love her forever.

  Those would be the easiest words Evan would ever speak in his life, because he did love her, and he would love her until he took his last breath.

  Fuck. Focus, Cowboy. There’s a wedding going on.

  Movement from behind them distracted Evan from his thoughts, forcing his head back in the game. He glanced around to see the bridesmaids lining up. Because he and the guys were in the last row, the ladies had to stop next to C-Note’s aisle chair as they waited for the woman in front them to get far enough ahead to begin their walk.

  As the first woman started walking, the second moved in to wait. It was all so precise. So…military.

  Did they have a protocol for how long they had to wait? Certainly, the ladies didn’t each have the same stride. Did they know how many steps they each needed to take so they wouldn’t bunch up in the middle?

  Evan still didn’t understand it. The whole process was maddening.

  Squaring her shoulders, the second woman began her walk. The third bridesmaid took her place next. The girl flicked her wrist toward C-Note. Evan glanced down and saw a slip of paper held between two fingers.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  C-Note’s brow furrowed, but he took the paper she offered him. Without a word, she smiled and began her walk.

  C-Note unfolded the paper, and Rooster elbowed him. “What the hell, man?” Rooster muttered. “Can’t that wait?” Curiosity got the better of Rooster because he leaned over. “Well? What does it say?”

  Rooster stared at the note. He snorted, snatched the paper out of C-Note’s clutches, and shoved it at Evan. Evan scanned the contents.

  Tiffany Nobles. Room 110. See you at the reception. I’m saving you a dance.

  Evan rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. He re-folded the note and passed it back to Blackwell.

  “I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he told them.

  “You like all women, regardless,” Evan said.

  C-Note looked at Rooster and then at him. “And that’s why I’m a confirmed bachelor, unlike you losers.” His expression turned sad. “Same woman for the rest of your lives? Mistake, guys.”

  The ring in Evans pocket didn’t feel like a mistake. In fact, it felt like the best fucking decision he’d ever made.

  I have to give it to Presley, first.

  Right. Once she said yes, then it would be the best fucking decision he’d ever made.

  Rooster nudged him with his elbow, grinning. “You’ll find out, Blackwell. Your day will come.”

  “Never.”

  The confidence the guy had in his ability to avoid love was astonishing. It would make it that much more gratifying when he fell. And he would fall. The biggest ones always did.

  Ensign Davis—bride Davis—slid into place next to C-Note.

  “Damn,” she muttered. “I had all my arguments ready to
present for HALOs as punishment for missing my wedding.”

  She tossed them a wink and started her slow walk to the front.

  The ceremony went off without a hitch, and before Evan knew it, the bride and groom were inviting everyone to join the bridal party under the white tent at the top of the hill.

  “Well, that was fun,” C-Note said. “Aren’t you glad you got the short straws?”

  “I’m pretty sure that whole ‘pick a straw for who has to go with me to the wedding’ was rigged,” Rooster said.

  Evan grunted. “Wait. You drew straws? I got blackmailed. How’s that fair?”

  “Don’t look at it as blackmail,” C-Note instructed. “Think of it as I wash your back, you wash mine.”

  Evan shoved the guy. “Consider this mutual bathing experience at its end, then. We’re even.”

  They started the walk back up the hill toward the reception tent. C-Note broke off from their little group. Evan and Rooster knew the guy well enough not to question where the hell he was going.

  As he and Rooster approached the reception tent, laughter filled the air. He watched as the bride and groom shared a toast, the happiness on their faces unmistakable. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been a couple, but in their eyes, their lives together started today.

  And he wanted that. Right now. With Presley.

  Evan pulled out his phone and opened the app to request a ride.

  “What’re you doing?” Rooster looked over his shoulder. “You bugging out?”

  He typed in the information. A car would be there in five minutes to pick him up. “Yeah, man. I gotta see a girl about a ring.”

  Rooster clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you, man. I’d wish you luck, but Presley’s crazy about you. She’ll say yes.”

  “She better.” He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without her.

  C-Note joined them as Evan was tucking his phone back into his pocket. He tossed Rooster his keys. “Here ya go, guys. I’ll find a way home.”

  C-Note turned on his heels and headed toward a waiting bridesmaid. Evan recognized her as the one who’d slipped C-Note her room number.

  Evan laughed and extended his hand to Rooster.

  “Looks like you’re on your own. Give the bride and groom our best.”

  “Uhhh. Presley?” Emilia tugged on the back of her shirt.

  Presley struggled with the eighty-pound sapling she was trying to relocate, which would be a crap-ton easier if her sister would stop pulling on her.

  “Quit, Em. If you’re not going to help, the least you can do is not try to topple me.”

  Presley dropped the tree and clapped her gloved hands together. She glanced at her sister, who had a serious deer in the headlights look on her face.

  “What is…” Presley followed her line of sight, immediately understanding her sister’s inability to form a coherent thought.

  Evan.

  So handsome and regal in his dress uniform, Presley wasn’t surprised that every person within sight stopped to watch as he stalked toward her.

  Wait a minute…

  She straightened as he drew nearer then swiped at a clod of earth stuck in the hem of her khaki shorts. Sighing with only mild regret, she smiled. “Is skipping out of weddings going to be your thing now?”

  His expression didn’t change. He seemed to be a man on a mission as he approached.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, concerned now.

  He cupped her cheeks and tilted her face toward his.

  “Evan, I’m filthy.” She tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold. “Stop now. You’ll mess up your uniform.” Since he held her head, she darted her gaze to where she’d been working. “I’ve been moving trees, shoveling mulch, and—”

  “I love you.”

  Warmth filled her chest, as it did every time he said those words to her. And he said them a lot. “I love you, too. Evan, what’s going on? Why aren’t you at the wedding with the guys?”

  “Because I have something I need to say.”

  Presley looked around and noticed they had an audience. “And it couldn’t wait?”

  “I’ve been waiting.” The intensity of his stare caused her heart to race. “I’ve been waiting for the right time and the right place. I realized today that, with you, every time is the right time, every place the right place.”

  “Evan, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  Oh God. Maybe he was being deployed. She’d known it was an eventuality, but she’d thought she’d have more time to prepare.

  Presley steeled her spine. They’d get through it. She’d hold down the fort. Keep the home fires burning. Whatever it was that military girlfriends were supposed to do—she was all in.

  Evan’s chest expanded as he seemed to choose his words carefully. “I walked away from you once,” he finally said.

  “If I hadn’t so stupid, if I would’ve listened to you that night, maybe we—”

  Evan shook his head. “We wouldn’t have made it, Pres.” He caressed his thumbs over her cheeks, softening the blow from his words. He pressed his lips against her forehead. “No matter how we might want to change that night, we couldn’t change who we were as people back then. You were young, too young. I was arrogant, selfish, angry.”

  He released her and took a step back. She suddenly hated the space between them. She was afraid there would be way too much of that soon.

  “‘Childhood sweethearts’ is a romantic notion, but that’s not our story, Pres. Ours is…” He glanced around, as if searching for the right words. Finally, he said, “Our story is like these plants here at your nursery. Full of life and color.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Dirty.” Em snickered behind her, causing Evan’s wicked grin to soften. “And when tended properly, we’ll will grow healthy and strong.”

  Evan dropped to one knee.

  “Evan, what are you…your uniform...” Presley gasped, her gloved hands flying to her mouth when she noticed the ring he held between his finger. A silver band encrusted with diamonds. No big center stone to get caught in her gloves or lost in the dirt. Simple. Elegant. The ring was stunning, and absolutely perfect for her.

  Tears instantly blurred her vision, and she blinked them back, not wanting to miss a moment.

  “It took us twelve years to find our way back to each other. These last six months have been the absolute best of my life, and it’s all because of you. You brought forgiveness and sunshine into my life. You challenge me, excite me, comfort me. You own me, heart and soul, Presley. I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Marry me, sunshine. Make me the happiest man alive.”

  Presley went to her knees in front of him. She jerked off her gloves and tossed them aside. And then, with everything in her heart, everything in her soul, she kissed him.

  “I love you, Evan Lancaster,” she whispered against his mouth. “Yes.”

  Note from the Author

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for reading Hot SEAL, Best Man. I hope you enjoyed Evan and Presley. I’d love it if you could jump over to your favorite reseller site and leave a review! :-)

  If you’d like more of C-Note, be sure to check out Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor by Cynthia D’Alba—available August 11, 2020.

  The SEALs in Paradise authors have more in store for you in 2021. Stay tuned for more information.

  As always, dear reader, I appreciate you. Thank you again for reading.

  ~Parker

  More SEALs in Paradise

  Each story is completely standalone but if you'd like to know the publication order, it is listed below.

  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: The Wedding Edition

  Hot SEAL, Bachelor Party by Elle James

  Hot SEAL, Decoy Bride by Delilah Devlin

  Hot SEAL, Runaway Bride by Cat Johnson

  Hot SEAL, Cold Feet by Becca Jameson

  Hot SEAL, Best Man by Parker Kincade

  Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor by Cynthia D'Alba

  Hot SEAL, Taking the Plunge by Teresa Reasor

  Hot SEAL, Undercover Groom by Maryann Jordan

  Join the SEALs in Paradise Facebook Reader Group!

  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.