“Fox,” the suited man said, turning her attention away from Noah. “I'm Agent Gates. I'll be your handler back to Langley.”
She gave a nod and on command presented him with the code verification. “Tick Tock.”
“Twenty-three.” He nodded. She never did understand what the hell that meant. But he gave the right answer.
Jayla ran her hands along her upper arms and turned back to Noah, her heart sinking to her stomach.
“She doesn't have shoes. Permission to carry her to the chopper, Sir,” Noah asked.
Her heart swelled with the thought that even in their last moments together, he still catered to her needs. Protecting her. Trying to keep her from harm. Even if it was only about stupid shoes. At one time that would have pissed her off, a man assuming she was incapable of something as simple as walking barefoot. But, from Noah's lips, it meant something different.
“I'm fine.” Placing a hand to his chest, the exuberant thumping of his heart against her palm sent her own heart racing. Like he was scared or worried. Their gazes locked. His deep brown eyes swirled with as many emotions that jumbled in her throat. “Take care of yourself, Hound.” She rolled to her tiptoes and placed a lingering kiss to his cheek. “The way you took care of me.”
He curled his large hand around hers and slipped something into her palm. Before the tears could fall, she spun around and ran to the chopper. As she climbed inside she opened her hand up, inside was the thumb-drive. She'd forgotten all about it. Thought it was lost somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Yet somehow, between all the daring rescues, he'd managed to keep it safe for her. Once again, protecting her. This time, her job.
Chapter Eleven
Noah laid in his bunk, one hand draped across his forehead, the other palm down on his stomach. He managed to dodge questions about what happened with Fox from his superiors, providing them with just the necessary info about the stakes of the mission. His team on the other hand, barraged him with inquiries, especially on her attire—or lack thereof—upon extraction from the island.
But Noah remained tight-lipped, not wanting to reveal just how far they'd gone, into the deepest, hardened parts of their pasts and soothed each other, releasing their pain through passion and understanding. He wouldn't have believed it himself if it hadn't happened to him, finding someone you can feel free enough to bare your soul to without a second thought.
But a week later, Jayla still haunted his every thought. Every waking moment her smile inundated him. In the dark of night, he still felt the touch of her on his skin. The taste of her lips and tongue. The sensation of being whole inside her. It consumed him.
Digger swung by his bunk and slapped him on the boot. “What's painin' you, Hound?”
Noah let out a sigh. “Just thinkin' is all.”
“About Fox?” Digger tossed some peanuts into his mouth, crunching so loud Noah wanted to blow dart him.
Noah rolled his head and glared at him. “What's it to you?”
“Well, you've been a complete and utter dick since we got you off Johnston. So lay it out for me. What's the bee in your bonnet?” He tossed the last of his peanuts into his mouth and winked.
Noah sat up and hardened his glare. “Who the fuck even says shit like that anymore? Bee in your bonnet?”
Digger spread his legs and crossed his arms. “My momma said it. You got a problem with my momma?” After a long pause his face relaxed into a smile, and he slapped Noah on the shoulder. “Shit, you're wound up. Seriously. This has to be about Fox. What happened out there?”
Noah dropped his head to his hands and scrubbed them along his face. “Nothing. And everything. I don't even know.”
“You got laid, didn't you?” Digger leaned against the bunk.
Noah blew out a hard sigh. “Fine. Yes. We slept together.”
“You've got it bad, man. Better buck the fuck up and own it. Or you'll drown in your own worry.” Digger's lips twitched to a smirk.
“Thanks a fucking lot, dick.” Noah rolled his eyes.
“Seriously, Noah. You're in love. I'm telling you to own it. Be a man. Go get your girl.”
“I'm not in love, Digger. I don't even know what that is or really means?”
“It means you have a new priority in your life. Something other than yourself. It means you have a reason to get up every day. It means you'll no longer be reckless, jumping head first. But you'll be more calculated and careful. Strategic, rather than leaving shit to chance and luck.” Digger shook his head and sat next to him. “You're a kickass SEAL, Hound. Because that's all you've ever been. Ever wanted to be. I don't know what drove you there, that scary place deep inside that gives you the attitude 'live or die you're a fighter.' But in the end, fighting for what?”
Noah contemplated his words, swallowing hard at the memory of what he shared with Jayla.
“If there's someone out there for you, someone who makes you a better person, a stronger person, someone who will love you for all you are and want to be, you shouldn't pass that up. Frog Hogs are great, man. They serve a purpose. But you're moving on to a new stage in your life. One where you live not for yourself, make the world a better place not for you, but for someone else.” Digger slapped his knee and stood back up. “If she makes you want to be a better soldier, a better man, a better lover, then why the fuck are you moping around here? We just pulled into port. Your ass should be out there looking for her.”
Noah looked at Digger as he turned to leave, trying to let the meaning of his words sink in. Rationalize it. Of all the people to give him love advice, yet everything he said made perfect sense, gave him some kind of bizarre understanding.
Digger stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “I knew the day she knocked you off your ass on the Ford, she was your match. Everyone can see it but you. Open your eyes. But more importantly, open your heart. You can't help who you love or when it hits you. All you can do is accept it and hold on to it however you can.”
Digger turned to leave and his boot-steps syncopated with Noah's speeding heart. The more he thought about it, the more he knew Digger was right. He had a chance. He had to grab it. He pulled the budweiser off his uniform, the trident pin he earned for becoming a SEAL, and tossed it into the air, catching it back in his palm. Now he hoped like hell Jayla wanted it, too.
* * *
Jayla threw herself on her bed, landing spread eagle on her back. One long-ass week spent debriefing the mission at Langley was more horrifying than the botched mission itself. Somehow it managed to be all her fault, not the fact that someone set her up. More than ever, she had to figure out if there was a mole, or if someone was just out to get her. She'd rather have a root canal from Edward Scissorhands than go through that again.
After counting spins on her ceiling fan, she rolled over and stared at her cat, Mal. A week. A whole week and not a word from him. Noah, not her cat. Not that she expected him to try and contact her. But still, she had daydreams about getting a call, a letter, an email, carrier pigeon, an owl.
All the emotions swimming in her head suffocated her. Since Mal remained radio silent, unwilling to offer his advice, she needed a voice of reason. She needed Melinda. And ice cream. And lots of alcohol.
Jayla pulled up outside Melinda's quaint cottage, sandwiched between an old tree and someone else's garage. The bright yellow exterior flaunted its happiness in Jayla's face. Like it was all proud to be super cute and sun-shiny, while Jayla wallowed in sad emptiness. Can you throat punch a house?
She marched up the front porch and pounded on the door three times before letting herself in. “Hey, Nerd, are you home?”
Melinda yelled from across the house, “In the bedroom, Punk.”
Jayla made her way to the bedroom doorway carrying the cure to her heartache in a canvas bag. The bottles clanked together, and the alcohol sloshed around inside it upon impact. “Life sucks.”
“Tell me about it.” Sadness filled Melinda's glassy and swollen eyes.
Shit, wha
t happened while she was gone? If someone hurt her bestie, she'd have words … or fists. Jayla threw herself onto the bed next to Melinda, and Melinda scooped her up into a hug.
“What's wrong?” Jayla asked, trying to hide the panic in her voice as she pushed down her own misery to comfort her friend.
“I called you a bunch of times,” Melinda said.
“Sorry. My phone is currently sleeping with the fishes at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Long story. Which is why I came over first thing after I got back from D.C. I'm a hot mess.” Jayla huffed out a sigh at the memory of Noah holding tight to her in the boat, saving her life in the water.
“Spill it,” Melinda demanded.
Jayla shimmied out of Melinda’s arms and turned to face her with a wince. “I slept with a SEAL.” The words fired off her tongue and stung her heart. Noah wasn't just a SEAL. He was Noah. More than she ever thought possible of a soldier.
Melinda's bloodshot eyes widened. “Whoa, wait, what? I thought you were on a mission?”
Jayla covered her face with her hands, peeking through her fingers at Melinda. “I was.”
Melinda shook her head and let out a snort. “Is this conversation going to require alcohol?”
“Quite possibly, right down to hard liquor, and by the end of it cirrhosis of the liver.” Jayla rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
“I drank all mine last night, so unless that bag is full of booze, I don’t have any liquid therapy for you.” Melinda cocked a brow. “Did you fall for him?”
Jayla shot up from the bed and paced the room in silence, ignoring her question. On purpose. She couldn't admit it. She wasn't yet sure if it was true. Jayla gnawed what was left of her fingernail.
“Oh shit!” Melinda sat up and jiggled her fingers through her hair, fluffing out her bedhead. “You fell in love. How did that happen?”
Jayla threw her hands up. “I don't know. I was just minding my own business, and he was just there, so I kissed him. And then we ended up locked in a bathroom, then there was more kissing. The next thing I know I'm in the middle of the Pacific, and he saves my life three fucking times, and then there was the almost drowning, and the hurricane, and lots of amazing sex, some seriously deep talking and then more sex …”
“Holy crap!” Melinda waved her hands in the air. “Slow down.”
“See, I need you!” Jayla collapsed on the bed again, curling her head into Melinda’s lap. “What am I gonna do?”
Melinda petted Jayla’s head, stroking her hair. “Do you think he's in love with you, too?”
Jayla turned and looked up at Melinda’s eyes. “He's a fucking SEAL. Of course not. I mean…I dunno. There were these moments…these really intense things happened and we had a connection. At least I thought we did, and we didn't just have sex. This was like…insane passion and all the feels. I've never had that before, and it's freaking my shit out, Melinda.”
Panic knotted her stomach. What if she truly never saw him again? She didn't want to turn into some stupid Frog Hog stalking the man, waiting on his every move, hanging out with no life just to get one more glimpse of the guy. But the thought of never seeing Noah again tore her up inside more than she was ready to admit to Melinda, or herself.
“So, dissect it. What does your heart say? What do you feel?” Melinda's words came out clinical and almost textbook.
Instead of rolling her eyes, Jayla closed them. She hated the emptiness inside her. The hollowness of her heart.“I miss him. I've thought about him non-stop since the moment we left the island.” Jayla tucked her arms around her stomach, trying to make the knots loosen in her gut.
“Why do you think that is? What do you miss?”
“Sweet Baby Jesus, Melinda, you're going all shrink on me. Can't you just feed me alcohol and ice cream, and call it a day?” Jayla rubbed tiny, fierce circles along her temples. Everything hurt, from her head to her toes. Mainly her heart. This was the reason she didn't fall in love. This was the reason she stayed far, far away from SEALs. It wasn't worth the pain, the second guessing all the time. Falling victim to emotions was far too dangerous in her line of work. And for the last week she'd run the gambit of full fledged nutcase.
“Sorry, drank it all and ate it all last night.” Melinda's words came out muffled, almost throaty and emotional.
Warning bells went off in Jayla's head. Something was definitely wrong. Jayla dropped her arms to her sides and stared up at Melinda, who's head was upside down since she was curled up in Melinda’s lap, so her frown looked like a silly smile. “I'm really glad I brought some over then. Wait. Why would you drink all your wine and eat all your ice cream?”
“You’re not going to believe me.”
“Try me. It can’t be any crazier than my story.”
“It’s exactly as crazy as your story. Turns out, I slept with a SEAL, too.”
Jayla stared at her for a moment, before letting the laugh bubbling in her throat burst from her lips. “Oh my God. It was that Buck dude, wasn’t it? From the party?”
Jayla had been in such a whirlwind after her run-in with Noah in the bathroom that everything after that was a blur. She had sought out Melinda to head home, but Melinda had passed out from an anxiety attack and was laid up in Caroline's bedroom with some beefy-looking cowboy tending to her like a hot male nurse in a porn flick. Seeing as how Melinda was in good hands—and abs, biceps, and thighs—she drove Melinda's car home, after the cowboy insisted on taking Melinda home himself.
“Yes. After you abandoned me, Buck brought me home and we had sex in my kitchen.”
“Dude, not where I eat my cereal! Come on!” Jayla quirked a brow. “That seems kinda quick, don't ya think?”
“Says the girl who slept with a SEAL after making out with him at a BBQ knowing him all of five minutes.”
Jayla folded her arms with a smirk. “Hey, this isn't about me. This is about you and your poor life choices.”
Melinda tossed her a playful sneer before rolling her eyes. “He spent the night, we had more sex, and then I went to work the next day and Russians invaded the lab looking for me and the Amaranthine.”
Jayla's lashes fluttered at mach two as she shot up from her lap, throwing her hand over her mouth unable to form words. Shit. Melinda had worked years on the development of a drug she called Amaranthine, a cognitive enhancer. She had intended it to be for Alzheimer's research. She never envisioned Melinda getting sought after by the Russians for it.
“And then Buck rescued me and took me home, and I was so scared he stayed with me. But then the Russians came again—right here in my house—and kidnapped us both, and took us out in the middle of the fucking ocean on a cargo ship. And oh my God, they beat the crap out of him right in front of me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that messed up. But he rescued me—us—again, and then we came home.”
“Holy Shit, Melinda!” Jayla was used to those kinds of things happening to her. But to think they happened to her best friend made bile singe her throat. Guilt ravaged her heart. She should have been there. She should have protected her. Jayla said a silent prayer, thankful that Buck was with her through it and saved her. “Wait, what do you mean, we? I don’t see him anywhere. What happened?”
“He wanted me to move to Virginia, but the CIA insisted on recruiting me now that the Russians stole my research. They want to keep the balance of power, so they guilted me into continuing to work on it.” Tears filled her eyes as she met Jayla’s gaze. “All I could think of was if someone else did the work, and you ended up taking the drug. I’d never forgive myself.”
Tears pooled in Jayla’s eyes as she reached out to squeeze Melinda’s hand.
“So I told Buck, and asked him if he could transfer here because I thought that’s what people who were in love did, but he didn’t want to transfer. So he left, and now my heart is broken.”
Jayla threw herself into Melinda’s arms, hugging her tight.
Melinda eased back from the hug, swiping at the tears on he
r cheek. “So anyway, that’s why I drank all the alcohol and ate all the ice cream.”
“SEALs are such pigs,” Jayla said.
Melinda's cat, Mr. Wiggles, sauntered in between them, and Melinda stroked his fur. “But what if they’re not all pigs?”
Jayla snorted. “You just said he left.”
Melinda sighed, pausing because she was thinking or for dramatic effect, Jayla didn't know. “I’m not talking about Buck. I mean, yeah, I know, your dad was bad. But what’s the problem with your SEAL in particular? Because you know he's not your dad. You have every right to be pissed at your dad, but what did this guy do to you? You can't punish him for something he hasn't done yet.”
“I know,” Jayla whimpered, choking on the ball of emotions in her throat. “I know.”
She thought she came there for advice, but she really just wanted Melinda to fix the situation, commiserate with her and tell her she was right for pushing Noah away.
The truth in Melinda's words drove a nail through her heart. She probably just fucked up the best thing that ever happened to her because she was stupid. Blaming Noah for something he had no control over. Punishing him because she couldn't take it out on her dad, so he was the next best thing.
“So, then what's the issue? Maybe one of us can get something out of this mess.” Melinda folded her arms, leveling her gaze on Jayla.
Tears welled in Jayla's eyes, and she shook her head.
“Say it,” Melinda demanded.
Jayla shook her head once more as the tears spilled over her cheeks.
“Admitting it isn't going to make you weak. Saying the words doesn't devalue who you are, who you've made yourself to be, Jayla.” Melinda rubbed a hand on her shoulder, and sobs ripped from Jayla's chest as she remembered Noah's touch, rubbing her back, soothing her in the most dire of situations. Tears trickled down Melinda's cheeks as well, probably thinking about Buck at the same time.
“He … he made me feel safe.” Jayla brushed away the tears and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Sucking in a deep breath, she processed her own words. “Like he really wanted to protect me.”
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: The Fox and The Hound (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Breaking the SEAL Book 1) Page 10
