Assigned (Navy Seals of Little Creek Book 3)

by Paris Wynters

  “Yup. Very hard to forget. I was still coming to terms with my diagnosis myself. I wasn’t ready to share it with anyone else, but it got shared for me. Without my permission.”

  “Should have told us yourself. We’re a team. How am I supposed to support you if I don’t know what’s going on with you? What does it matter how we found out?” Until Graves, I had been the newest member of the team and always felt like the odd man out. Well, at least when it came to Bear, Stephens, and Lux. Luckily, I had Martinez. But not knowing about Jim’s health when Bear did had been a sore spot for me. Still is.

  He turns to face me. “I’d have let you know if and when you needed to know. Point is, it was my diagnosis and my personal information to share. Not anyone else’s. Brittney took that away from me just to be cruel.”

  “But I wasn’t doing this to be cruel. I was trying to help.”

  Stephens shakes his head. “Doesn’t really matter. It was Riley’s information to tell. Not yours. She’s new. Probably doesn’t want people to look at her differently. I know I hadn’t wanted that. I couldn’t stand the idea of being pitied.” A shadow passes over his face and I get a sense of how deep his hurt and pain went.

  That day still gave me an ache, too, though. “Why would we have looked at you differently? We were all there when that bomb exploded. Any one of us could have gotten unlucky that day.”

  “I was afraid my brain was never going to be okay. That the damage was permanent. I felt . . . less than.” He turns away and tosses another pebble into the pond.

  I make a noise in the back of my throat. “Wouldn’t have mattered. We’re still brothers. You should have trusted us. We can’t be a team if we don’t trust each other. We don’t come back alive if we don’t trust each other.”

  Stephens turns back to me, his brow furrowed. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “I do trust you, but Riley’s still learning to trust you. She hasn’t even begun to learn to trust the rest of us.”

  I groan and rest my face in my palms, finally getting what she was so mad about. “And I just gave her a huge freaking reason not to trust me ever again.”

  “Afraid so. One thing you have to remember, as much as you were trying to care for Riley, you need to communicate with her beforehand. Sharing a person’s disability with others without consent—even if you are doing it out of love—is a misstep. It’s not your decision to make . . . unless it’s a medical emergency, of course.”

  “What do I do? Do I go after her?” I need to find a way to make this right.

  Stephens scratches his head. “Give her a minute to cool down. She probably knows in her head that your heart was in the right place. Let her heart catch up with yours.”

  Wow. To say that Taya has changed Jim Stephens has got to be the understatement of the century. That was damn close to poetry.

  We walk back to where everyone is gathered around the food.

  “Well, come on, then,” Marge says, clapping her hands. “Let’s eat before it all gets cold.”

  You generally don’t have to tell a SEAL team to start eating. Everyone grabs plates and starts to fill them from the dishes set out on the side table. Mason and I end up in line behind Graves, who seems to be frozen over the potato salad. I trace his line of sight and see Hayden standing in the doorway, sunlight filtering through her crazy hair and outlining the shape of her legs through the long peasant skirt she’s wearing. I elbow him and he startles, plunking a mound of salad on his plate and moving on to a stack of burgers.

  He’s a good kid, emphasis on kid. Come to think of it, he’s probably only a couple of years older than Hayden is. She’s twenty-three now. They’re closer to being peers than Graves is to Bear. I somehow doubt Bear will see it that way, though.

  I get Mason settled with his plate over by Tony and Inara and go back to the condiment table where Graves is putting the finishing touches on his burger. I knock his elbow and he looks over his shoulder at me. “Yes, sir?”

  “I may not be the right one to give advice. Lord knows my own love life is a damn mess. I’d take your eyes off Bear’s daughter, though. Touch her and he will kill you.” I squirt ketchup on my burger.

  Graves’s face is about as red as the slice of tomato he spears with his plastic fork. “I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I shrug. “Whatever you say, kid.” I walk over to the table and take a seat between Mason and Martinez.

  “Where’s Riley, Dad?” Mason asks, looking around.

  “She, uh, had to go.” Damn it. How am I supposed to explain to an eight-year-old that his father’s an idiot?

  “Where?” He looks over at me, mustard smeared on his chin.

  I take a napkin and wipe his face. His nose wrinkles under my hands. “I don’t know for sure.”

  Mason’s face scrunches up. “Did you guys get in a fight?”

  He’s a little too observant for his own good, this kid. “Kind of. I, uh, did something wrong. Didn’t mean to, but there it is.”

  “Are you gonna apologize? Ms. Shapiro always makes me apologize, whether or not I’m wrong.” He looks down at his plate.

  I’ve got to get him out of that school. Lisa’s barely speaking to me, though. There hasn’t been a moment to tell her about what I overheard go down between Riley and Ms. Shapiro at the parent-teacher conference. “I’m gonna apologize.”

  Martinez claps me on the back. “She’ll cool off, man. Give her some time.”

  I take a large bite of my burger so I don’t have to answer.

  Buzzing sounds erupt around the table and each member of the team is pulling phones out of pockets.

  “No,” Marge says. “Just no.”

  Bear gives her a sad look. “I’m afraid so.”

  I sigh, looking down at the message on my own phone. The team’s been called in. I look down at Mason and my heart drops to my stomach.

  Marge speaks before I can say anything. “I’ll get Mason to Lisa. She can pick him up when it’s convenient or I’ll drive him home. Until then, he and Leslie can hang out in the meantime.”

  There it is. What it means to be a team. I don’t even have to ask and someone’s there to help. Not just with training or equipment. With my life. All of it. I drop a kiss on Mason’s head. We’ll be okay.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Riley

  I left the barbeque, saying only a quick goodbye to Marge, Inara, and Taya. It’s a pure wonder I don’t get in an accident on the way home. I’m so mad I could spit. Lucas shouldn’t have done that. It was a violation of my privacy and it was just plain stupid. He really doesn’t get it. He never seems to see when he’s about to go too far, push too hard, ask too much.

  Sure, he wants to help. He wants to protect. It’s who he is and what I admire about him, but that doesn’t mean he gets to eclipse who I am and what I want to do. He doesn’t always know what’s best, especially if he doesn’t bother asking.

  I pull into the driveway, and when the garage door goes up, I see my board and know exactly what I need to do to feel better. After going inside to change into my bathing suit, then putting on my orange short-sleeve rash guard, I head back downstairs and into the kitchen where I scribble a note on a Post-It, then stick it on the fridge so Lucas will know where I’ve gone. While I’m pissed at him, there’s no need to make him worry about my whereabouts.

  I quickly grab my board, and then I’m on my way to the beach.

  The drive and briny smell of the ocean, plus the warm rays of sunshine, calm my emotions enough so that when I arrive, I’m able to put all my energy into the task at hand.

  “Hey, Riley.” Brian waves to me from behind the Gold Star Family Surf School table as I walk up. “I thought you were taking the day off.”

  “I thought I was, too, but my plans changed. Figured I’d see if you needed any help down here.” The one sure thing I’ve found to get me out of my doldrums and put things in perspective is to do something for someone else. And I can’t think of anyone I’d more like to d
o things for than these kids who have all lost someone.

  Brian smiles. “You know we always can use you. Wanna help Allison over there with the twelve-year-olds?”

  I look over to where a fit, dark-skinned young woman is showing a group of pre-teens how to wax their boards. “Absolutely.” With a grin, I jog over to the group in time to help Allison show them all how to attach their leg ropes.

  An hour later, Allison and I start to lead the group into the water. One of the mothers watching the lesson jogs across the hot sand toward me. She waves her hand in the air. “Excuse me.”

  “Great.” The preteen girl with her brown hair braided huffs and crosses her arms after dropping the board to the ground. “Here we go.”

  My gaze bounces between the girl and the woman.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you. But we haven’t met. I’m Julie.” The woman extends her hand.

  I take it and shake. “Riley.”

  “I just wanted to ask you to keep more of an eye out for Tara. My daughter has Meniere’s disease, which causes severe vertigo. Can you please stay close by her side out there?”

  “Geez, Mom. Can’t you just let me do something for myself for once? Why do you have to tell everyone to watch out for me?”

  My brow lifts and I bite the inside of my cheek. How many times I’ve wanted to scream that at my own mother? How many times I actually did? I glance back over to the woman and nod. “Will do.”

  Tara rolls her eyes, picks up her board, and makes her way toward the water. I follow, seeing myself as the preteen stomps through the sand and into the surf. Guess I’m not the only one whose loved ones seem to put their business out there.

  I stand in the surf, the cold water at waist level, watching all seven of our group bellyboarding toward the beach. One kid even manages to pop up and ride the small wave in. The look on his face is pure delight. I know how that power and connection to the ocean feels and my heart brims with the knowledge I’ve helped give a kid who’s had to face grief at way too young an age an experience he’ll be able to enjoy for years to come. For a moment, I try to imagine Mason’s face with that kind of smile. I want so much to give that to him, to share my love of the ocean and the sport, but I’m not sure Lucas and I are destined to make it. So much seems to stand in our way. Every time the road in front of us seems clear, another obstacle pops up.

  As if my thoughts had conjured him, I turn toward the shoreline to find Lucas standing a few feet from Tara’s mother. Great. This was supposed to be my getaway. My place away from any argument. But seems my husband decided otherwise.

  When I face the kids once more, I spot Tara struggling on the board, her knuckles white as she grips the corners with eyes squeezed shut. After wading over to her, I place my hand on the center of her back. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  I know that tone. I’ve given off the same one. Which means the real answer is “no” and that Tara wants the truth to remain hidden. I purse my lips and take a deep, centering breath. Okay, her mother said she had a disease that gives her vertigo. So, severe dizziness.

  I take a step back and analyze my surroundings. Tara’s board is bobbing a lot in the water, which has become a bit choppy. She’s also lying on her belly with her eyes closed. I scratch my head and try to think of a way to help, yet allow her to finish the activity.

  “Tara, sit up and open your eyes. I want to try something.”

  “Don’t need your help.”

  I snort, then catch myself. But my reaction catches her attention and she glowers at me. I hold up a hand, palm facing her. “I don’t find this funny. I suffer from something, too, and you sound just like me. I kinda can relate.”

  Tara’s face softens a bit and she grunts as she lifts her body up. When she sways, I take a step in and place a hand on her back. “See that blond guy about ten feet from your mom? Concentrate on him. Focus on his face.”

  “He’s . . . cute.” She blushes a little. “Why am I looking at him?”

  “Because looking at your mother would defeat the purpose. It’ll just make you angry.”

  Her shoulders slump forward. We take some deep breaths and just remain out on the water for a few minutes, hoping the spell will pass. Thank God her mom caught me before we headed into the waves. What if she hadn’t said anything?

  Tara might have been even more embarrassed if everyone panicked, not knowing what was going on. Or she could’ve gotten hurt by pushing too hard. What if she’d gotten lost in the mix? Sure, there are only seven kids to two instructors, but things happen.

  My gaze travels back to my husband. Maybe I’m the reason I was embarrassed today. No one had even mentioned or hinted at anything that made me feel less than. And they had all known before I found out the information was shared.

  “What if he’d been deployed and no one had any idea?”

  “Huh?”

  My eyes widen and I whip my head back toward Tara, realizing I’d asked myself that question out loud. “Sorry, nothing. So, how are you feeling?”

  “Not a whole lot better.”

  “Well, we are just about done, anyway. Try to paddle on your stomach toward shore. Keep looking at the man and keep a focal point. Usually staring off at one solid thing in the distance helps with balance. I’ll stay by your side in case you need anything.”

  She nods and adjusts herself, and a few minutes later we are back on shore.

  Lucas waves to the group, probably goodbye, and starts walking toward me. I turn toward my car. No sense in letting everyone hear our business. Certain things should be done in private. And I’m still angry about the situation, though not as much at him anymore. But I still need some time.

  Lucas meets me halfway. “Riley? We need to talk.”

  I stop and turn. He looks down at the sand, then out at the ocean. Anywhere but at me. This can’t be good. “I get you’re angry and I’m sorry, but this is about work. I’m leaving for training. There are some things we need to go over.”

  For a second, the words don’t register. Then they hit and I feel my shoulders sag. “Leaving? For how long?”

  “Three weeks. Could be longer. Sometimes we bounce from one training to the next. Other times we may be needed somewhere else and are sent out on a mission.” He looks up into my eyes now.

  I can do three weeks. Even more. No problem. As long as I know when he’ll be back. “But you’ll let me know?”

  “No, not always.” He takes my board from me and we continue walking toward the parking area. “I’ll call when I can, but to be honest, it might only be once or twice. Can’t say any more. Part of the job. Part of this life.”

  I glance behind me at the Gold Star family kids on the beach. They’d all had a conversation like this. Someone told them they were leaving, but their someone never came back. The reality of what Lucas does hits me like a tidal wave. This is what Marge, Taya, and Inara were talking about. This sucker punch to the gut of not knowing where my husband will be or even if he’s okay. “Oh.”

  “I have to go home and pack.” He pauses a moment, then looks at me with a questioning expression on his face. “Wanna help?”

  My mouth can’t find the words. My lungs can’t find air.

  All I can do is nod.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lucas

  We get home and Riley showers off and changes quickly. I’m downstairs in the kitchen, getting out all the snacks to be packed on the table. Things like sunflower seeds, powdered Gatorade, jerky, dried fruits, and nuts. Also, a few cans of Chef Boyardee.

  Riley snorts. “Seriously? Thought you had this stuff for Mason in case you didn’t have time to cook.”

  “You have no idea how useful this stuff can be. Not just to eat, but to trade.” I hold up menthols and dipping tobacco. “Same with this shit. I don’t smoke. Others do. Will be used to my benefit.”

  I glance over at her. She’s worrying at her lower lip and I want more than anything to stop her with a kiss. But I’m not sure how
that will be received. She’s talking to me. That’s something. It ain’t permission for a lip-lock, though. “Taya, Marge, and Inara are here to help. Anything you need. Even if it’s just to talk. Take them up on it. Trust me. They’re amazing women.” This is the part of the job that’s tough. The not knowing, the disappearing. Add in that communication can be sparse and eventually most spouses leave. Lisa is a strong woman and she couldn’t take it. God, I hope Riley can.

  She nods.

  Now the part that’s a little more muddied. “Might need some help with Mason. Lisa has a lot going on. I added your name to the approved list of people who can pick him up at school if needed.”

  Riley’s expression is priceless, a disbelieving smile and pink in her cheeks. “Lisa was okay with that? Letting me help take care of Mason?”

  I nod. “Lisa knows the drill. Has been through it herself. At the end of the day, we are all here to support each other. It’s the only way this works.” I take a deep, measured breath. “And it has to work, Riley. I’m not quitting my job. Not leaving this life. Please understand that.”

  Something flashes across Riley’s face, but I don’t know what it is. She’s tough, but this can be a lonely life. It’s one thing to talk about the possibility of me being gone for long stretches with no communication, it’s another to actually live it. She shakes her head, gathers some of the items in her arms, and heads back upstairs. I follow. When we reach my room, she drops everything on the bed, then spins around to face me, index finger pointed at the mattress. “Dare I ask what all the socks are for?”

  “Better to have too many. You don’t want to see what feet look like when they’re not taken care of. You definitely don’t want to feel it either.”

  She shakes her head and helps me finish packing. Once everything is stowed, we stop and look at each other. I’m not sure what to say. She has an uneasy expression on her face as her hands rub up and down the sides of her jeans. Then she steps toward me, putting one hand on my chest over my heart that has started to beat faster.