Operation SEAL: Book Two Trident Brotherhood Series

by Cayce Poponea

  “My God, Harper, I can't wait to tear you up in the bedroom, and then cook you up something mouthwatering the next morning.”

  With his lips buried in my neck, his hot breath cascades over my skin. His voice is deep and drenched with wanton need. Parts of me want to hear more, getting lost in his description of how he would ‘tear me up’, leaving me a sweating and satisfied mess, only to pamper me in the morning with his refined culinary skills. But the rational and inquisitive parts, want answers as to why he chose to call everyone else but me and let them know he was safe. The logical thinkers, solidly getting me through unscathed when my past relationships fell apart, they remind me Logan is still a relative stranger to me. A man who has lacked female attention for who knows how long, telling me I should know better than to believe any sweet words which fall from his lips.

  A knock on the window negates my need to refuse him, or any further exploration of my lack of defenses when it comes to Logan.

  “Goddamn it.”

  He swears as he places his forehead against mine. His breathing comes out in labored pants, the hard muscles of his chest and arms slightly relaxing as he lets out a strangled breath. Pulling back as the knock sounds again, a deep growl escapes from his throat.

  “Okay, let's give my mother her time to do what she does, eat some dry cake and shake some hands. However, the second the last smile fades, I’m whisking you off to a nice dinner including copious amounts of good wine to help relax the anger I know you’re harboring against me right now.”

  His statement is bold and sobering, and as he leans away from me, I catch a glimpse of the position I allowed myself to be placed in. I was blinded by the carnal need of a handsome man, one who clearly took what he wanted, accustomed to following the rules he set for himself. Righting my skirt, which had risen to the top of my thigh, the lace edge of my panties on display all to see. Daring a glance into his face, his eyes are indeed on the area I had covered; a raised brow and cheeky smile tell me all I need to know.

  Josh stands with his back to the opened car door, hands on hips bunching his jacket in the back. Logan offers his hand to assist me out of the car, his elongated fingers wrapping around my much smaller ones. I expect him to separate our hands when my feet touch the pavement, instead, he intertwines our fingers and pulls me close to him.

  “Harper, Meredith wants Sarah and Avery to stand with you as the two of you cut the ribbon.”

  Tossing a look over his shoulder, noticing our clasped hands he looks back at Logan, a knowing look shared between them.

  “You, my friend, are in a fair amount of hot water with your mother.”

  Logan pulls my hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss on my skin, “Completely worth it.”

  My heart skips a beat as I take him in. Tan skin a by-product of the time he has spent in the sun. His cover rides against his eyebrows, calling attention to the blue orbs I can’t help but get lost in. Dark hair, freshly cut by the looks of it, a deep contrast between his skin and the white of his uniform. Sharp chin freshly shaved, something I’m not certain if I will have to get used to. With his unannounced arrival, for an uncertain duration, I'm not sure about anything right now.

  Weston waves us over, Meredith is like a different person with the cameras on. Several big time news agencies patiently wait for their turn to ask questions. Sarah and Avery are posed at the edge of a red carpet, all smiles and wide eyes at the sight of Logan and I approaching, our hands clasped and bodies close enough to dispel any question of what is going on between us.

  Avery begins to vibrate in her heels, the dark curls falling over her shoulders bounce from the force of it all. Meredith ends the interview, turning to face us, an approving smile crosses her lips, with her arms folded against her chest in an attempt to be intimidating. While she has never struck me as a person to fear, Logan has increased the speed and length of his steps, causing me to nearly trip as I try to keep up.

  “Logan Marshall Forbes!”

  Meredith’s raised voice calls across the pavement, her smile falling into a severe frown. Her flawless forehead bows slightly but not a single wrinkle dares to show its face.

  “Slow your steps, you’re gonna cause her to trip and fall.”

  Logan immediately stops, looks from me to Meredith, “I could pick her up and carry her if you’re really concerned.” Weston hides a laugh behind a cough and a well-placed fist, while Meredith shoots him the same shameful look she shared with Logan. Not wanting to call any more attention to the situation than there already is, I step around Logan, ignoring his attempt to pull me back, and drag him with half-hearted effort to where the rest of them are standing. Flashes from the cameras startle me, nearly making me miss the edge of the carpet. Logan steps in behind me, lifting me at the waist without breaking his stride or alerting any attention to my near fumble.

  “Hello, Logan.” Meredith welcomes him with open arms. He bends down to embrace her as I step around the unit to stand beside a still excited Avery. Not having his hand in mine feels cold, despite the warmth of the bright sun shining down on us. I can still smell his cologne, masculine and fresh, the exact way I want a man to smell.

  “I’m going out on a limb and assume this is the Logan Forbes.”

  Sarah had taken it upon herself to share the Lifetime Movie worthy story of how we met. Avery had practically sighed every third word as Sarah told her version of the events; minus the details I kept to myself.

  “Yes, but don’t ask me why he’s here and not in Afghanistan. I had no idea he was considering a visit.”

  I ponder my own words, his appearance today was unexpected, and could explain his lack of contact with me in the past few days. Would his departure be just as quick, and secret?

  “It's obvious why he’s here.” Bumping her shoulder against mine. “The question is,” Avery looks around and then leans in close to my ear. “Why did you let him out of the back seat of that truck?”

  A hand on my shoulder pulls me away from the conversation I have no real desire to participate in. “Harper, we need to get this moving.” Josh leans into the space between myself and Avery, his interruption welcomed and I say an internal ‘thank you’ for the save.

  I followed Josh’s instructions as to where he wanted me to stand, turned and twisted to make certain we created a perfect picture. With Meredith on my right and Sarah and Avery on my left, I smile until my face hurt and held the over-sized scissors hovering over a bright yellow ribbon until I was instructed to cut. When the applause began to die down, and the questions directed at Meredith started again, I chanced a glance at the people gathered. Many friends and fellow business owners came out in support. Some of them genuine, while others like Mona and the Mayors, were parts played in a game of keeping face.

  Logan stood beside Weston, their heads leaning in one another’s direction, no doubt discussing his plans for his visit, perhaps a stop in New York to catch up with the rest of his family there. I tried not to think of how short my time with him could possibly be.

  “That fucking idiot!”

  Snapping my head in Sarah’s direction, shocked at her crude choice in words. Her eyes were narrowed into slits and locked on something deep in the crowd, anger visible in the crevices of her furrowed brow. Following her line of sight, I search for half a second when I see what has her so pissed off.

  Lance stands in the center of the sidewalk, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. A combination of anger and fear seethe through my body, and it takes everything I am not to run across the parking lot and ask him what his issue is.

  Movement to my right brings me back to Logan, who must have been watching the pair of us and is already halfway to where Lance is standing. I'm about to take a step, and somehow stop any unnecessary confrontation from taking place. Logan is bigger, taller and, no doubt, smarter than Lance and while I have no loyalty or affection for him, I don’t want him to get hurt.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  Sarah grips my arm,
keeping me from moving forward. I watch with my heart in my throat as Logan approaches Lance, the crowd parting like the Red Sea to let him through. His white uniform, highlighted by the sun, causing him to almost glow. The pair stand parallel to me and I can see each of their profiles clearly. Logan looks down on the much shorter Lance, who doesn’t change his stance or look the slightest bit intimidated. Logan stands with feet apart, his hands at his side, and appears to be speaking quite calmly. With the exception of the movement of his cover, I don’t suspect his words are heated.

  Several seconds tick by and as I'm ready to let out the breath I've been holding, Logan raises his right hand, tapping his index and middle finger in the center of Lance’s chest. I pull in a quick breath as Lance attempts to knock his fingers away, but the size difference makes it impossible. Suddenly, Lance tries to grip Logan’s fingers, but faster than I can blink, Logan has his hand bent backward, causing Lance to cringe in pain. Logan lets him go with a shove, and then lowers his head to the same level. As Lance rights himself, clutching his injured hand against his chest, Logan steps back and begins to walk away. He makes it three steps when Lance says something I can’t hear. Logan stops, turns slightly and responds in a crystal clear voice.

  “Try it and see what I do, motherfucker.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Logan

  “I’ve reasoned with your mother about how you won't be on the plane back to New York with us later.”

  “Good to know, considering I haven’t asked for permission to do anything from my mother in over ten years.”

  I highly doubt I will ever grow tired of looking at Harper. Taking in her graciousness as my father prattles on in my ear.

  “Hey, I’m trying to help you here. The least you can do is show some gratitude.”

  Looking away from Harper, I shoot my dad a go to hell look. The smirk on his face lets me know this conversation is light.

  “She understands, but insists you join us for dinner.”

  I’m about to contest him, let him know I have plans of my own when he raises his hand to stop me. “She assumed you would want to have some private time with Harper, but she won't budge. She has also invited Bruce to join us.”

  I’ve planned to have a conversation with Bruce, approach him like a man to prove I’m a good match for his only daughter. That conversation wasn’t in the plans for tonight, maybe breakfast tomorrow. Tonight was slotted for me to come clean with my girl, letting her know I was here for good. Glancing back at Harper, I notice she and Sarah have found something or someone upsetting. The look of anger on her face has my need to protect her working overtime, so I follow their line of sight until I see him. Not bothering to excuse myself from my father, the conversation I need to have is far more pressing than dinner plans. Aiden had shown me a grainy photo of him, taken with a cellphone from quite a distance, so I immediately recognized the source of their anger. I wouldn’t do anything drastic to him here, nothing that would cause the gossipers to speak ill of Harper. I would, however, give him a clear warning to keep his distance from the woman I loved.

  “Lance Ranoka!” I called out his name from a few feet away. Dressed in light jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, a little warm considering the temperature outside, but nothing too alarming. His dark eyes flashed to mine, running up and down my stature in an attempt to jog his memory if he knew me.

  “Maybe.”

  “Did that sound like a question? I didn’t mean for it too, as I know who you are. What I can’t figure out is,” stopping less than eight inches from him, my first attempt at establishing dominance. He doesn’t flinch or waver his eyes from mine, so I plant my feet and square my shoulders. I’ve worked out hardcore to be as broad as I am, using sheer size to intimidate on several occasions. “Why the fuck you think you have any business being here?”

  His smile elongates and lips part showing a full set of white teeth, complete with a gap big enough to drive a Mack truck through the front. “You have me at a disadvantage, my friend. You know my name, but I’m afraid I don’t recognize you.”

  “Your friend? Sorry, that is something we will never be. However, I’m going to give you a piece of advice, call it friendly if it makes you feel better.”

  Reducing the distance between us to less than a few inches, I use my index and middle finger to tap the area in the center of his chest. It’s annoying as fuck but more than an enough to drive my point home.

  “Stay.”

  “Far.”

  “Away.”

  “From Harper Kincaid!”

  Enunciating each word with a jab of my fingers, and increasing the force with each word. Her last name leaves my mouth through clenched teeth, and he finally grows a set of fucking balls by reaching up and grabbing my hand.

  “Or what?” He returns, spit flying out of his mouth and landing on his shirt. “You going to go all GI Joe on me, threaten me while your boyfriend holds me down?”

  Flicking my wrist, I twist his fingers and arm contorting it backward, effectively hunching him over and yelping in pain.

  “GI Joe is a fucking pussy.” Twisting his wrist a little more and I can feel him start to shake from the pain. “Consider this your last warning. If I ever hear about you going near her, you’ll become acquainted with the business end of my .45.”

  Releasing his hand, I shove him back slightly, just enough to send home my point. I don’t want to go much further with this asshole, but I won't back down either. Taking two steps back, I tip my head at the older gentleman who is wearing a veterans hat standing just far enough to the side not to hear the words we’ve exchanged. With fluid precision, I turn on my heel and ball of my foot, ready to return to the conversation with my father. I catch Harper’s' eyes, her intent gaze locked with mine. I’ll need to add this to the list of shit I need to discuss with her. We’ll have no secrets between us that aren’t necessary for her safety.

  “You can’t keep me off a public street, or prevent me from talking to her when you’re not around.”

  I stop dead in my tracks, taking a moment to swallow down the rage I feel brewing inside. Everything in me, all of my training and experience, labels Lance as an enemy who needs to be annihilated. I remind myself this isn’t a mission, I can't take care of the problem without suffering consequences. I’ve made my point, and now it’s time to let him fuck up. Lance doesn’t strike me as the type to fade into the shadows, so it's only a matter of time.

  “Try it and see what I do, motherfucker.”

  Not bothering to wait for a rebuttal, I continue my forward momentum to rejoin my father. Needing the distance to tamp down my anger, and gain the control I know is in there somewhere.

  “Logan?”

  My father eyes me cautiously, he had never been comfortable with the changes I’d had to undergo to become a SEAL. He worried I had sacrificed too much of the caring side of me to become a lethal weapon. He is now joined by Harper's father, the two of them sharing the same concerned look.

  “Care to explain yourself?”

  Harper's father is the same height as my own, his dark hair matching the shade I love so much on his daughter. While I owe the man a certain level of respect, I won't let him steamroll me about anything.

  “Which part?”

  “Don’t assume I will bend to you as easily as that piece of scum. My son has shared the nature of your character, I expected a visit to my front door would have presented itself before the display the entire town witnessed.”

  “With all due respect, Sir, I won't apologize to anyone for the message I sent to the city and most importantly to Harper. I want every man to know she is with me, while every girl wants to be her. Should I have come to you first? Maybe, but things happened fast and honoring a fallen SEAL took precedence over pleasantries.”

  Bruce’s rigid face softens, “My condolences on your friend,” his voice cracks and I wonder where the emotion is coming from. “When do you have to head back to your base? I’d like to have a few words with y
ou before you go.”

  “Let me speak with Harper, explain why I’m here and how long I’m staying.”

  Chances are I should have taken my father’s advice and told Harper I was on my way, but I’m smart enough to know she will be even more upset than she is now if I speak with her family before her. I also need to contact my team, have Ryan get me a tracking device for Harper. Lance had been right when he said I couldn’t be with her every minute of the day. In a few weeks I would have to go back to work, and she had her own responsibilities.

  “Logan Marshall.”

  I caught the smell of her perfume a tenth of a second before I heard her call my name. “When did you get into town and why didn’t you tell your favorite aunt?” Dressed in yellow from head to toe, wearing a wide brim hat and her everyday pearls dangling past her waist. Aunt Valerie always commanded a crowd, either from her striking beauty or the bottom line of her checkbook.

  Opening my arms wide, I move my head to the side to avoid that hat of hers, which needed its own zip code. “No one told me you would be here, otherwise I would have been looking for you.” Aunt Valerie and I had a unique relationship. Where most women her age, my own mother included, tended to stick with activities which kept their feet on the ground, Aunt Valerie had gone skydiving with me on several occasions. She climbed Mt. Fuji a few years back, and even drank most of my team under the table in Japan.

  “And miss an opportunity to witness the next great love story?”

  Piercing blue eyes, sparkling with mischief looked back at me. Rolling Stone Magazine interviewed her not long after she hit the bestselling list, even though her publicist warned the young reporter CJ Reece lacked a filter. The scared fucker dropped his ink pen several times as she told him about the extensive research she did for each of her books. The interview was cut short when she asked the guy if he wanted to see the callous she had on her knees after researching for a new erotica novel centering on blowjobs and penal jewelry.