by Tawny Weber
Marc usually didn’t mind talking to the women after class, but tonight he felt a little frustrated. While he listened and answered questions, his gaze kept darting over the silver heads to pick his strawberry out of the patch.
“Good night,” he called, finally able to wave the women out the door. He turned to her. “Ready? I thought we could grab a bite at the Navy Exchange.”
“Not a date, huh?”
“Nope,” he denied. Not a date.
They walked the short distance, settling opposite each other in a booth with their fast-food order.
“Where do you put all those calories?” he asked, watching her bite into a double cheeseburger.
“Where do you think? I’m sitting on them.”
“I’ll have to check that out.” He bit into his own burger, then laughed when they both pulled off their onions. He was more comfortable with her than anyone he knew, including Brad and Carol. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“You surprised me, that’s for sure. A real multi-faceted man of mystery. How long have you been teaching self-defense to women?”
“Going on three years. It’s been a regular part of most Monday nights for me.” He put down his burger. “It’s more personal than you may think.” He met her gaze across the table. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. “My biological father is a serial rapist serving a life sentence. My mother was one of his victims.”
He could see her struggling for the right words. “I didn’t—”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’m only telling you because I want you to listen. A female SEAL would be vulnerable in ways a man isn’t. Even strong and capable ones, like yourself. And a team is only as strong as its weakest player.”
“It’s not about what you can or can’t do. You’ve impressed the hell out of me since you’ve been at SPECWAR. I like you, Tabitha Chapel. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt. Or put your squad in jeopardy.”
She pondered the honesty of his words, then put her burger down, too. “I know I’d have to deal with that if it happened, but I don’t think I should make my choices based on the fact that it might. Any woman on the street or in her own home could be a victim—”
“I just wanted you to know the reason I’ve been fighting you on this, and why I’m going to keep fighting.” He paused to look out the window. “And maybe someday when you realize the lengths I’ll go to keep women out of SEAL training, you’ll be able to understand, if not forgive me.” He was asking for her forgiveness now, only she didn’t realize it.
He’d sent his study to Washington today.
“And what if I win?” She picked up her drink. “What if women are allowed into the SEAL program?”
His beeper went off, and he paused to check the message before answering her. “I don’t honestly know if I can handle that. At the very least there are consequences for every action...” The unfinished thought hung in the air between them.
She didn’t know it, but he was saying goodbye.
Chapter 16
1630 Friday
NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE CENTER
Coronado, CA
Tabby moved around the small storage closet that had become her office, packing up the last of her personal belongings. She shoved the chair under the desk and took one last look around.
If she came back...when she came back, she corrected, it wouldn’t be to sit behind a desk. It would be as a trainee.
The morning after Miller left she’d found an envelope with Tiger scrawled boldly across the front. She’d tom into it eagerly, only to find her missing room key.
It reminded her of that day and his promise to spring for a room at the Hotel del Coronado.
A promise meant to be broken.
A promise that should have never been made.
But she’d kept her end of the bargain. Today she’d completed a one-mile swim in under an hour, following a fourteen-mile run. She was in the best physical shape of her life, and that was after a mere four weeks with the SEALs. More importantly, she had collected all the information she needed.
Tabby closed her briefcase on the seventy-two page feasibility study that would make it possible for her, and other women like her to come through the door as trainees.
But today she was leaving. With no sign of Miller anywhere. And there was nothing she could do about it. The orders had been cut the day he’d agreed to the study.
“Hi.” Carol popped into her office. “Did you get the word yet? They’re back!”
Tabby’s heart leapt. “When?”
“The helo just landed. I ran into the wife of an air crewman at the Navy Exchange. You know, word travels fast through the Navy wife grapevine. I made one call to another wife and I bet most of the wives will be here before the men finish debriefing.” She plunked down her shopping bags on the desk.
“How long does the debriefing usually last?” Tabby asked, trying to recall from her father’s SEAL days. Was this what her mother had gone through?
The waiting. The worrying. The wondering. The anticipation taking over her insides.
Marc was home. Safe and sound.
“Forty minutes to forever. And sometimes they shower first. Or at least you hope they do,” Carol said, unintentionally bursting Tabby’s bubble.
She checked her watch. Her cab would be here in thirty minutes to take her to the airport. And she was cutting it close as it was.
Carol sat down in the desk chair, spinning around like an excited child. Then she showed off the maternity clothes she’d just bought while chattering brightly and inanely for the next few minutes.
“This one’s pretty,” Tabby commented, holding a floral print dress against herself. “You know they actually make maternity uniforms.” Not that she’d look good in one.
Carol’s smile faded. “Marc never told you?”
“What?” Tabby met the other woman’s gaze.
“I can’t believe he’s never told you,” she said then cursed softly under her breath. “Marc can’t have children. He had a vasectomy.”
Tabby’s chest constricted. Why? But she knew the answer. Conceived in rape.
Mechanically, she folded the dress and placed it back in the box, along with the secret dream she’d been harboring. The dream of having it all. Which, as evidenced by her own mother, was a dream few women achieved. “Is that the reason you and Marc—”
“It’s just one of them, Tabby. We were never meant to be.”
Obviously his paternity weighed heavily on his mind. But hadn’t Warren Miller set a better example for him? Marc hadn’t really said much about the man except he wasn’t his father. And what about his mother? Hadn’t she tried to help him overcome the guilt he no doubt felt?
She would probably never know. With a sigh, Tabby looked at her watch. It was checkout time.
She hugged Carol, wished her well with her pregnancy and promised to e-mail often. Then walked down the hall to Miller’s office.
“Preach.” Tabby leaned over the yeoman’s desk. “I need my service record and travel orders. And could you give this flash drive to the CO when he gets back?” It was a copy of her study.
Perry nodded toward the Commander’s door.
Tabby turned.
“If you want you can give it to him yourself,” Marc said, from the doorway to his office.
Pure joy filled her heart.
He held out his hand, and she gave him the flash drive, then realized he was waiting to receive her service record from Perry.
“Checking out today, Lieutenant?”
It seemed to her he avoided direct eye contact.
“Yes,” she managed as joy faded to confusion. He knew she was. He’d cut the orders.
Why wouldn’t he look at her?
He opened her file. “Everything’s in order,” he said, before handing it to her.
She saw a flicker of something elusive cross his face.
“I marked your Fitness Report as unobserved. It’s appropriate for assignments unde
r six months.”
What? No words about her performance? She’d been here four weeks. Certainly he’d observed her in one way or another. He was only here for three of them, she reminded herself. But what had happened during the last week to change him?
Surely he realized he wasn’t her Commanding Officer now that her service record was back in her possession.
He turned the disk she’d given him over and over. “Was there anything else, Lieutenant?”
She blinked in the face of his dismissal. There was a whole lot of anything else.
Starting with, she’d missed him. Had he missed her? Or how about her passing the swim and run? Was he going to spring for dinner and a room at the Hotel del Coronado as promised?
Oh, and by the way, the little snip you failed to mention, doesn’t matter. Because I still want you.
I love you.
But then, we don’t really have a future together, do we? So none of this matters. And all of it remained unsaid.
“Lieutenant,” he prompted.
“No, sir. Nothing else.” He stared at her for so long she thought she would break down right in front of him. But she was saving that for the privacy of a bathroom stall at the airport. She turned to leave.
Marc cleared his throat. “Goodbye, Lieutenant.”
There was no use thinking about what might have been. He was doing the right thing. He tapped the drive against the flat of his palm. His report had gone out Monday.
She wouldn’t be looking at him like that when she got hold of it.
“Do you have a ride?” he asked.
She swung back around.
Hope lit her eyes, and he saw he’d made a mistake. “Because I can have Preach call the duty driver,” he finished.
He watched the hope fade, then die in her eyes.
“I have a cab waiting.” She marched off.
For the last time, he listened to the sound of high heels in the passageway as strawberries, long legs and green cat eyes walked out of his life.
He deserved it. And more.
“Can you proof this for typos, Commander?” Perry asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Yeah,” he managed to rasp out, picking up a pencil from the petty officer’s desk. He leaned over and scanned the page for errors. The ink blurred before his eyes.
Master Chief Murphy walked in and went over to the coffee mess to pour himself a cup. “How ’bout that gal,” he said, “She ran fourteen miles this morning then followed it with a mile swim in 58:09.”
The pencil in Marc’s hand stilled. The pressure at the tip became so intense the lead point snapped. Crumbling the paper, he tossed it across the room.
2020 Friday
COMMANDER MILLER’S OFF-BASE RESIDENCE
Coronado, CA
No answer. Tabby knocked again, already resigned to the fact that Marc wasn’t home. She watched the cab disappear around the corner.
She’d made it all the way to the United ticket counter at the San Diego airport before turning around. Her luggage was on its way to Washington, D.C.
But she wasn’t just going to pretend the past four weeks hadn’t happened. He could listen to what she had to say. He owed her that much at least.
Picking up her backpack, she walked to the back of the house where she dropped it to the patio deck. Removing her hat, she tossed it to the nearest deck chair and fluffed out her hair.
Then prepared to wait.
Leaning against the rail, she stared at the ocean.
As the fiery sun dipped low into the water, then disappeared in a red blaze of glory, she realized how foolish she’d been. There was no telling where he was, or when he’d return. What if he was gone all night?
Amethyst and sapphire streaked a ruby sky, then faded to cobalt blue. “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight...” Tabby watched the last hint of color vanish along with her hope.
The wind picked up around 2200 hours and gooseflesh appeared on her skin. Rubbing her arms, she looked longingly toward the door. She knew his security code, but she didn’t feel right entering the house without his permission.
Better to meet him on neutral ground.
But not too neutral, she hoped.
“What am I doing here, anyway?” She sank to the top step and rested her head against the post. If she left now, he’d never know. But then she’d never know why he’d been so cold this afternoon.
Maybe it was better that she just let it go.
She rose to her feet and reached for her backpack. Then froze.
A man emerged from the breakers, water sluicing from his body. She would have recognized the breadth of his shoulders anywhere. She stood in the shadows, where he couldn’t see her, and watched him as he moved up the beach.
Toward her. Toward home.
His head hung with the effort of his ocean swim and he stared at his feet as he trudged along. After unzipping his knee-length wetsuit, he slicked back his hair. Then he spotted her.
She wanted to run to him, or from him, but she couldn’t make her feet move in either direction. Instead, she gripped the rail.
“What are you doing here?”
She could hear the coldness of his tone.
“I came to tell you to go to hell.” Pride kept her from admitting anything else.
Closing his eyes, he raked a hand through his hair, making the short dark tufts stand on end. “What am I going to do with you?” His voice cracked, sounding his surrender.
“Whatever you want. You’re not my Commanding Officer anymore!”
He was at the foot of the stairs now, scowling up at her. “Don’t you think I know that?” he snapped. “We still have the training issue between us. I tried to explain to you—”
It was too much for Tabitha. Running down the redwood planks, she pushed past him.
He grabbed her arm. “You didn’t come here just to tell me to go to hell.” Icy fingers held her with gentle pressure.
“This is where you’re supposed to say, Tabitha, wait. Don’t go. If you can’t say it, let me go!” She jerked free.
“Tabitha, wait!”
She stopped, afraid to move. His arm wrapped around her from behind. It tightened, pulling her closer in a wet embrace. The dampness from his wetsuit seeped through her uniform, but the circle of his arms kept her safe and warm.
“Don’t go,” Marc murmured in her ear. It didn’t cost him anything to say it, but that didn’t mean a relationship with her wouldn’t.
They still had so much standing between them. Her study, his counter-study, her father, his background. But one obstacle was gone.
He wasn’t her Commanding Officer anymore.
He nestled his nose against her hair and inhaled. She sagged against him. Then turning her in his arms, he brushed away her hair and kissed the bridge of her nose.
He dropped his forehead to hers. “Tell me you won’t regret this. If I make love to you, how am I supposed to let you go?”
“Don’t,” she said simply, touching his lips with the pad of her thumb. “Don’t ever let me go.” Then her lips traced the path of her thumb in light persuasion.
He didn’t need persuading, but he gave her a final out. “Tabitha, you have to get back to D.C....”
“I know,” she admitted in a husky whisper. “But I can catch a flight Sunday. I’m not going to regret this, Marc. There’s nothing between us right now. And if a time comes when there is, I’d rather have this weekend with you than nothing.”
Damn! This beautiful woman wanted him. Him! He should be falling down on his knees in gratitude. Not trying to send her away. He rained kisses along her face and neck, showing her just how much he wanted her.
He’d settle for a weekend. A day. An hour. If that’s what she wanted. He wanted her. He’d given her the chance to be free of him. On Monday when she was back in D.C. and finding out what he’d done, he’d have this memory. That would have to be enough.
“Where were you?” she asked, clinging to him.
Her warm
th seeped through to his cold bones. “I swam to Point Loma and watched the lights come on across the bay.” It was miles. And dangerous. But what he’d been trained to do.
“The Hotel del?”
The pain of physical exertion and taxed lungs was nothing compared to staring at, and thinking about, what might have been. “I don’t have reservations,” he said sheepishly.
“It doesn’t matter. How do we get from kisses to the bedroom?”
“Just take the stairs.”
“I don’t think my legs will carry me.”
He swept her into his arms. “No problem. I do stairs.” He headed up the steps. “Where’s your luggage?”
“On its way to Dulles. I don’t even have a toothbrush.” She punched in his security code.
“I know where you left one.”
Navigating the house in the dark, Marc took the stairs two at a time. They were still lip-locked when he pushed through the bedroom door.
Tabby felt the awkwardness of the moment when he set her gently, on her feet. They were in his bedroom. They were about to make love. How many times had she imagined it? But she’d never really believed they’d get this far.
“Music?” he asked, tuning the clock radio until he found a love song. “Wait for me. I have to rinse off the salt.” He left her standing in the middle of the room and disappeared into the bathroom.
She sank down onto the bed. Realizing where she sat, she stood up and looked anywhere except the mirrors.
She heard the shower. Should she join him? She kicked off her shoes and stripped off her panty hose. But before she could make a decision, he emerged wrapped in a towel. Her heart skipped about three beats, then started up again on the double.
Toting condoms in one hand, a lit votive candle with a light vanilla scent in the other, he placed both on the nightstand. “Lights, music, protection.” He talked to himself. “Shower, deodorant. What am I forgetting?”
He was being absolutely adorable.
“Me,” Tabby said, softly.
“Never,” he said, taking her hand. “I’m just nervous.”
