The Wedding Steal - A SEAL Romance

by Layla Valentine

  “I didn’t want to be in the Navy,” he said. “Or the military at all. I wanted to be a writer.”

  Suddenly, my image of Colton shifted. It was almost as if he had been standing in a half-lit room. I could see one side of him, but the other half was plunged in darkness, like a crescent moon. But then, flick. The other light turned on, and he was standing in front of me, a fully illuminated person.

  “I can see that,” I said, a small smile tugging on my lips. “You look artistic.”

  Colton had a laugh that needed to be seen rather than heard. He tipped his head back, squinted his eyes closed, and opened his mouth wide. I could see he was laughing, but the only sounds that escaped were a few small breaths. Then, he looked at me, both eyebrows raised. “You can see how artistic I am?”

  I shook my head, my hair spilling out of the low bun I’d pulled it into and falling over my shoulder. I grabbed the fallen hair tie and wrapped it around my wrist. “No, but I know when someone looks artistic. But you are a bit too pretty to not have a touch of artist in you, though.”

  He pulled his chin in, looking at me from beneath his dark brows. “Am I supposed to be offended?”

  “Only if you want to be,” I said. “I didn’t mean it as a criticism, if that helps.”

  “It does, thanks.” He ran a hand self-consciously across his stubbly chin.

  I clapped my hands, drawing his attention. “We got off track. What kind of writer are you?”

  “The kind that doesn’t write. I haven’t written anything in years.”

  “Why not?”

  All trace of amusement was gone. Colton sent his green eyes to the floor, his fingers picking at the ugly maroon fabric of the comforter. I could tell he didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but I didn’t care. It seemed important.

  “There hasn’t been very much time,” he said with a shrug.

  “You’re retired, right?”

  He nodded.

  “And your dad died?”

  His head snapped up, his mouth set in a straight line. “Yes, but people don’t usually mention it so casually.”

  I ignored him. “Then, what have you been doing since he died? It seems like that would have been a good time to write something.”

  “If comedy doesn’t work out, strike guidance counselor from your list of potential careers,” he said pointedly.

  I faced off with him, having a staring contest of sorts. “Why? Because I’m digging into some harsh realities?”

  Colton’s shoulders sagged forward, and it was one of the first times I’d seen him look anything other than completely perfect. He looked tired and…defeated. “I don’t have anything to write about.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He opened his mouth in mock surprise. “That language is not appropriate for a young lady.”

  “Good thing we aren’t in the presence of a young lady, then,” I said.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. In the last few days alone, you were hired by the mob to kidnap someone, kidnapped the wrong girl, met Ponytail Jones, and are now sitting in your boxers in a 1970s-styled motel room with a woman with a see-through shirt. This is a great story, and I have a feeling your life is full of them. You definitely have enough life experience to fill a book. You just aren’t seeing it for what it is.”

  “I could say the same about you,” he said, leaning forward, the comforter slipping even further off of him, so I could see his boxers and the tops of his muscular thighs.

  “What about me?”

  “You don’t see your life for what it is. You think your cousin is perfect and you’re the screw-up, but I think it’s much more nuanced than that.”

  I raised my shoulders up to my ears and scrunched up my nose. “Agree to disagree, then.”

  He stared at me for a long second, sighed, and then laid back on the floor, pulling the comforter up to his chin. “Do you want to hit the lights?”

  “Are you going to bed?” I asked.

  I didn’t know why, but I was disappointed. I didn’t really want to sit up and continue talking about my family drama, but I also didn’t want to go to bed.

  What did I want, then?

  “I’m exhausted, and I’m sure we’ll have a big day tomorrow. Better get our rest.”

  “You sound like my dad,” I said as I flipped the switch for the lamp next to the bed. The room sank into total darkness for a moment until my eyes began to adjust. The neon light of the sign filtered through the cracked vinyl curtains, giving the room a blue glow and enough light that I could make out Colton’s shape on the floor. I could also make out the smile on his face.

  I rolled over fast, pulling the musty sheets around me. The bed was big and cold, and I wondered what if would feel like to run my hand down Colton’s back. To feel his warmth in the bed next to me. I squeezed my eyes shut and began counting tiny imaginary sheep. If I fell asleep quickly, there was less of a chance I’d do something stupid. Luckily, thirty-one sheep did the trick.

  Chapter 12

  Colton

  I stayed awake for a long time, thinking about how the day had turned out. It hadn’t gone anything like I’d expected. I certainly never imagined I would end up sitting in a motel room with the woman I’d kidnapped, chatting about our dreams for the future.

  Rachel surprised me in other ways, too. She was strong. Incredibly strong. Her life had been turned upside down in a matter of a few minutes, yet she adjusted. She didn’t cry or scream or beg. Even when she didn’t know who I was or what I had planned for her, she talked back, harassed me. If I hadn’t been trying to do a job, I would have thought it was funny. Honestly, I still did.

  And then, oh man. She walked out of the bathroom wearing my shirt and shorts, and I almost fell over. Seeing her in a cocktail dress had been nice; there was no doubt about that. But seeing her stripped down to the basics was something else entirely. Her face was clean, cheeks flushed from all the scrubbing she’d done to remove her makeup, and she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her blue eyes looked brighter and her lips were a pretty pink. My shirt hung off one of her shoulders and the shorts were rolled a ridiculous number of times, highlighting how petite she was. I’d almost wanted to take back the offer of letting her wear my clothes. Being in a room with her all night when she looked like that seemed dangerous.

  All night long, I felt her presence in the room like an extension of myself. I didn’t have to look over to know she was there, to be aware of how close we were to one another.

  Admittedly, it had been awhile since I’d been with a woman. A few months, probably, since I’d been in a bit of a rut. But it was more than a physical desire. I wanted to protect Rachel, to be there for her when no one else was. I wanted to tell her I was proud of her and have it mean something to her. And I knew that was incredibly bizarre, given our situation.

  I needed to get my emotions in check. I only felt this way about Rachel because I felt so guilty for trying to kidnap her. And because she was gorgeous. Of all the girls I could have been sent to kidnap, why did it have to be this one?

  When I woke up to the sound of a shrill alarm, I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, except the first rays of sunlight were streaming in through the window, so I had to have been asleep for a few hours, at least.

  “What is that?” I asked, rolling over and shoving the palm of my hand to my ear.

  Rachel grunted but didn’t say anything. I sat up on the floor, peering up at the bed until I could see her, still perfectly asleep.

  “Rachel, I think it’s your phone.”

  Still nothing. She didn’t even grunt this time.

  The noise was too much to handle, so I stood up and padded across the room to where her phone was sitting on the nightstand. It was her cousin calling. And it was five in the morning.

  “Jenna’s calling you,” I said, reaching across the bed and shaking her shoulder.

&nb
sp; Rachel looked like a cartoon princess. Her face was pale except for blotches of pink across her cheekbones, and her lips were pouted out. In movies, when I saw a woman look this good first thing in the morning, I always thought it was fiction. But Rachel was the real deal. I cursed under my breath and shook her again.

  Rachel rolled over and the sheets slipped down around her waist, revealing the see-through shirt and a patch of flat stomach where my shirt had ridden up. I quickly grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her, trying to protect her decency and my heart. This was all too much so early in the morning.

  “Rachel.”

  She bolted up, practically jumping out of bed, her eyes darting crazily around the room. I backed away, surprised by how quickly she’d gone from comatose to alert.

  “What is it?” she said frantically.

  “Jenna’s calling you.”

  I handed over her phone and then went back to the floor, pulling the comforter over myself. I was still only in my boxers, and it was cold in the room. I hated only being able to hear Rachel’s side of the conversation.

  “I’m fine. Calm down. I’m fine. Yeah, I know I’m not at the hotel. Are you just now getting back? Dang, what did you all do all night? Never mind. We have more important things to discuss.” A brief pause, then, “Yes, I’m fine. I just got a little bit…kidnapped.”

  Even I heard the shrill response from her cousin coming through the speaker. Rachel pulled the phone away from her ear and winced.

  “Calm down, Jenna. Let me explain,” she said. Another brief pause, then, “Yes, he’s here right now. No, I’m not being held at gunpoint. Let. Me. Explain.”

  Finally, Rachel was able to run through a brief version of the night’s events, and I was surprised to hear that I did not come out sounding like the ultimate villain. In fact, considering what I’d done, Rachel was a little complimentary.

  “He’s been very kind. Very gentlemanly.” She turned away, whispering into the phone. “No, nothing has happened. I am not suffering from Stockholm syndrome.”

  I looked up with interest as Rachel continued.

  “I’ll put you on speaker, but you have to promise you won’t say anything embarrassing.”

  After what I assume was a promise from Jenna, Rachel grimaced at me and put her phone on speaker.

  “Hello?” Jenna’s voice sounded remarkably like Rachel’s.

  “Hi,” I said, so quietly I didn’t even know if she would even be able to hear me.

  “If you hurt my cousin, I’ll kill you,” Jenna growled through the phone.

  “Jenna!” Rachel snapped. “Stay focused.”

  I bit back a smile. They argued like sisters.

  Jenna sighed. “Okay, so I was the intended target? Seriously, at my bachelorette party?”

  “I didn’t know about that until I got into town,” I said.

  “As if that really makes a difference,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes at me. “Yes, Jenna. Colton’s boss is after you.”

  “But Colton is on our side now?” Jenna asked.

  Rachel looked over at me. I hated how much doubt was still in her eyes. Even after last night, she didn’t know if she could trust me.

  This time, I spoke loud and clear. “Yes, I am.”

  “Why were you after me?” Jenna asked. “What did I do? Is it something to do with Evan?”

  “Is Evan your dad?” I asked.

  Jenna made a gagging noise. “Ew. No. Evan is my fiancé. So, wait, this is about my dad?”

  “Yeah. Apparently, he owes a lot of money to the mob. Around one hundred thousand dollars, I was told.”

  There was a long pause. Rachel looked at me, eyebrows raised, and I shrugged. Then, we both looked at her phone, wondering what Jenna was going to say. This had to be a lot to take in.

  “My dad owes money to the mob?” she repeated in disbelief.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Who’s your boss?” she asked.

  Rachel opened her mouth, but I coughed, drawing her attention, and then held a finger to my lips. Too dangerous, I mouthed. Rachel sagged down, imploring me with a pouty lip.

  I shook my head and answered. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to know that information, Jenna. I’m sorry.”

  “Is it Tony Gambino?” she asked.

  “Yes!” Rachel shouted before I could say anything. “How did you know?”

  There was another long silence, and then…laughter. Jenna was laughing.

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain what’s happening right now. Are you really drunk? Is that why you’re laughing?”

  Rachel looked at me, and I shrugged. This didn’t make any sense.

  I wrapped the comforter around my waist and walked across the room, sitting on the bed next to Rachel. “Do you think she’s in shock?” I said quietly.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” Jenna said. “I’m not in shock, just give me a minute to wrap my head around this. Colton, you were hired by Tony to kidnap me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because my dad owes him a lot of money?”

  “Correct.”

  “Hogwash,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “She means it’s a lie. Baloney,” Rachel said quietly.

  “I know what hogwash means,” I said.

  Jenna laughed again. “Wow. You two really are pals now, huh? Well I’m glad to hear it, because you have been fooled, Colton. My dad doesn’t own Tony a dime.”

  “The Gambinos have gambling rings all across the country,” I said. “Your dad could have—”

  “I know all about the Gambinos,” Jenna said. “I used to date Tony.”

  Rachel dropped the phone and it slid across the thinly carpeted room, hitting the dingy baseboard. I scrambled off the bed to pick it up and handed it back to Rachel, who carried on without missing a beat. “What did you just say?”

  “Tony and I dated for a year when we were in college.” Jenna said it with the same level of shame as someone describing a drunken night on the town where they had a bit too much to drink and danced on a table.

  Rachel’s mouth fell open. “You dated a mobster?”

  “Don’t make it sound so dramatic, Rachel. When we met, he was just a frat boy with a rich daddy. I didn’t learn about his family’s business until later.”

  “And then you broke up?” she asked.

  There was a long pause.

  “Jenna!” Rachel yelled.

  “He was nice, okay?” Jenna said. “And we had a lot of fun together. I was young and dumb.”

  “Dumb enough to get involved in the mob?”

  Jenna groaned. “This is exactly why I never told you about this. I knew you would be judgmental.”

  Rachel stood up, completely forgetting about the sheerness of the shirt—or me sitting next to her, for that matter. Her hand was clenched around the phone so tight her knuckles were turning white. “I’m judgmental?”

  “Don’t pretend like that’s news. You’ve always judged me, Rachel. You always thought you were better than me,” Jenna snapped.

  Rachel’s mouth fell open, and even without seeing her face, I knew she was close to tears. After everything she’d told me last night and what she’d said at the bar, I knew Jenna was venturing into dangerous territory.

  “Focus up, Jenna,” I ordered, drawing inspiration from the drill sergeants I’d taken orders from in my years of training. I didn’t want a fight between the two of them to distract us all from what was going on. Plus, I didn’t want to see Rachel upset.

  Both women got quiet. Rachel turned around and sat back down on the bed.

  “Why is Tony after you if it isn’t about your dad?” I asked.

  “I assume he saw my engagement announcement in the Princeton alumni newsletter. Evan and I met there. Evan is actually the reason I broke up with Tony, so it’s a pretty sore subject for him, I bet.”

  “So, all of this is because Tony is…jealous?” I didn’t want to believe it, b
ut it was starting to make sense. Tony had kept this entire mission under wraps, not wanting me to tell his father or anyone else where I was going or why. It made sense that I was being employed on a personal errand.

  “I guess,” Jenna said. “I won’t pretend to understand Tony’s thinking. I can try calling him if you want? See if I can sort this all out.”

  Rachel was still sitting on the edge of the bed, the phone held limply in her hand. She looked like she’d been kicked.

  I wrapped my hand around her shoulder and squeezed. She looked up at me, her eyes wide. I motioned to the phone, and she handed it to me.

  “Don’t do anything right now,” I told Jenna. “It’s too dangerous. Tony may have been a rich frat boy in college, but he’s dangerous now. And clearly petty, too. Bad combination.”

  “I feel terrible for getting you both involved in this,” Jenna said. “I just wish there was something I could do.”

  “Honestly, the best thing you can do is stay at the hotel. Is the room under your name?”

  “It’s under mine,” Rachel said, sounding far away.

  “Great,” I said. “Stay at the hotel until things blow over. Tony won’t know you’re there. And stay off social media—that’s how I found the bachelorette party, so he could do the same. We’ll keep you updated as we figure this out.”

  Jenna agreed and apologized again to Rachel, but Rachel didn’t respond. I ended the call and flopped down on the bed. It was too early for this.

  Chapter 13

  Rachel

  Me, judgmental? How? When? I’d looked up to Jenna since she and I were kids. If I’d judged anyone, it had been myself. She’d been my measuring stick for as long as I could remember. And now, my stick was cracked in half.

  “She dated a mobster.”

  Colton hummed an affirmation in a way that made me think it wasn’t the first time I’d said something like this.

  I shook my head and tried to focus. “Sorry. God, I can’t even think straight.”

  “It’s early,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair.