SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle

by S. M. Butler

  “Yup?”

  “Hey, man. How’s it hanging?” He’d heard that voice in his dreams. Sometimes he woke up screaming. But he’d never forget the man who’d saved his life and watched his six more times than he could count. His chest warmed. Sonofabitch, do I actually miss SEAL Lieutenant Commander Mack Riley?

  Luke couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from rising. “Lower than yours, buddy. But we both know that. If you’re calling me, you must be desperate. I’m out.”

  “I know. I know. But since Soli is gone, I just thought—” Mack let out a hiss. “Dammit to hell, Luke, we’re in deep shit over here. Jackson, Greene, Henry, all lost. I need you on my team. We all need your medical expertise in the field, man. You’re the best corpsman I know.”

  His heart beat strong. Being a corpsman, a SEAL? It was the only job he loved. But he wasn’t patching up bloody men anymore. That part of his life was over. Luke gave up the SEALs when Soli was sick. Shit, he was a bastard for not coming home earlier, before the love of his life was dying. Guilt poured acid in his guts and chewed and frayed the ends of his nerves. No matter which way he turned, he betrayed people he loved—his SEAL buddies. His wife. He wasn’t going to do that to his daughter. No way in hell.

  “Sorry, Mack. You’ll find another corpsman. I’m out.”

  “Yeah, all right. I get it. I had to try.”

  “‘Nothing lasts forever,’” Luke quoted one of the infamous mottos from BUD/s. “Stay safe out there.”

  “‘The only easy day was yesterday.’” Mack laughed, quoting another. “Will do.”

  “Call me when you’re out. We’ll catch up,” Luke said. Even though he knew they wouldn’t.

  Was that gunfire in the background? Where the hell was he? “Sure man. Kiss your little girl for me. I’ve got to go.”

  The line disconnected. Luke stared at his phone an extra beat, emotions he’d buried long ago crawled out like Night of the Living Dead horror. Hoorah.

  The phone rang again. What in the hell? He jammed his finger on the button. “I can’t do it. I have a daughter who needs me.” His voice was no longer graveyard-robbing low.

  “Exactly. Dad, it’s a quarter to eight. Where are you?” Sunny’s sweet, slightly agitated voice came through the receiver.

  “No, that can’t be, it’s only six thirty.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh, sh—”

  “Fifty cents in the Swear Jar,” she warned.

  He smiled. His daughter was forever trying to clean up his act. “Sugar. I was going to say, ‘oh, sugar, my watch stopped again.’”

  She blew through her lips in disgust. “That thing is worthless.”

  He folded up the blanket and picked up the remnants of breakfast. “Not quite worthless.” It was a very expensive Rolex Submariner Soli had given him as a birthday present. He’d never part with it.

  “Whatever. Where are you?” she asked.

  He let out a deep breath. “I’m having breakfast with Mom.”

  “Oh, Dad.” Sadness choked her words. “Why?”

  “Marriage vows, sweetheart. Eat breakfast together, never go to bed angry, grow old—” A lump the size of Gibraltar lodged in his throat. He took a sip of coffee.

  “It’s been two years.”

  “I promised your mom breakfast. On the third of every month, we celebrate our anniversary with muffins and coffee from the cafe where we met.” The ritual started when Luke came home from duty and he was still hanging onto it even though Soli was deep in the ground.

  “I didn’t know,” she whispered.

  “Of course not. I sneak out while you’re asleep and tip-toe in before you wake,” he laughed. “I guess I blew it today.” Then he remembered the stopped watch. “Oh sh…sugar you’re going to be late for school.”

  “Don’t worry. I can ride with Jenna.”

  “Worry? I’ll have a stroke. Jenna just passed the driver’s test. I’m taking you to school.”

  “You’ll never make it in time.”

  “I’ll make it.”

  “You can’t get another speeding ticket, Dad. Do you know how lame traffic school is? Nothing but losers. That’s what Jenna says, she hated it. No way. I’ll catch the bus.”

  The filthy, germ-ridden bus? Hell, no. “See you in ten.”

  Hanging up, he took a bite of the scone and chased it with a sip of coffee. The sweet surprise clashed with his expectations of dark roasted black java. He’d sipped the vanilla latte by mistake. Grimacing, he poured it out on the greenest plot in the cemetery—Soli’s.

  He ran his hand over the headstone. “Sorry honey, I’ve got to go before our baby does something crazy-dangerous, like hopping a school bus.”

  He took off at a fast-clip through the cemetery until the guard dog’s howls forced him to sprint the rest of the way. He may have bent a few speed limits on his way, but he’d driven Humvees through hostile territory without crashing, and he’d be damned if he did so now.

  When Luke turned up his street, he was surprised to see his best friend, Danny, parked in his driveway and leaning against one of the stupidest-looking cars ever made. Luke shook his head. The two of them had dreamed and talked about cars since they were ten. Both of them had decorated their bedroom walls with posters of Ferraris and Porsches. Why in the hell was Danny driving a Smart Car?

  Luke parked his real car in the street. “Dan-man. You’re here.”

  After they fist-bumped Danny said, “We need to talk.”

  “Agreed.” Luke’s eyes flicked over Danny’s head. “Why is there a gutless, butt-ugly thing littering up my driveway?”

  “Dad!” Sunny came out of the house, her backpack slung over one shoulder. “That’s not nice. I think Danny is handsome, in a Ryan Seacrest sort of way.”

  Luke grinned. His daughter could be such a smart aleck. He had no idea where she got it from. “I was talking about that other thing. Please don’t tell me you traded your Mustang for this, Danny.”

  Danny turned red. “No, it belongs to my, uh…a friend.”

  “It’s a cute car,” Sunny said. “I bet Ryan Seacrest drives one.”

  The beauty of her comment was that Danny couldn’t tell if he was being teased or not. Actually, neither could Luke—his daughter’s crushes changed almost daily.

  “How’re you doing, Sunny?” Danny asked in the way people do when they really don’t want the truth.

  Sunny paused for a beat too long and Luke’s heart stopped. He searched for signs that she was sick again. Those circles under her eyes, were they getting darker? Her hair was growing out, but still wasn’t as thick as it used to be. He could see her collarbones poking up through her pink T-shirt, and her jeans bagged at her hips and butt.

  Holy shit, was she—?

  “I’m fine.” She smiled.

  Luke’s heart beat again. He heard Danny breathe a sigh of relief too.

  “You two have lots of guy things to discuss. I’ll call Jenna for a ride,” Sunny said sweetly.

  “Nice try, get in the car,” Luke said.

  “Oh! What about Chad, Susie’s brother? He’s seventeen and has had lots of experience driving.” She leaned closer to Danny and mouthed the word “hot.”

  Luke had seen that Chad kid and suspected he’d driven girls around more than one block. Sunny wasn’t getting anywhere near him. He thumbed toward the Carrera. “Get in.”

  “But, I really need to talk to you,” Danny said, holding his gaze. “It’s important.”

  “I know. Here—” Luke tossed him the brown bag. “Have a scone. I’ll be back soon. Oh, and move that piece of junk out of my driveway before the neighbors see it.”

  A Mercedes honked as it pulled up.

  Sunny squealed, “Jenna!”

  A girl in the passenger seat put her window down, “Hey, I’m grounded. Can’t drive for two weeks.” Cupping her mouth, she whispered, “Didn’t do so hot on that Algebra test.”

  “Ouch,” Sunny said.

  “So, you wanna ride?” Jenna asked.
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br />   “Hi, Luke.” Jenna’s mom waved from the driver’s seat. “I can take her today.”

  “Yay! Can I go with them, Dad?” Sunny asked.

  Danny elbowed him.

  “Fine.” Luke gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “Get going.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a quick squeeze and climbed into the back seat.

  As he watched her go, his heart felt heavy. It was always hard to say goodbye to his girl.

  “She’s looking better,” Danny said.

  Reluctantly, he turned away from the disappearing Mercedes. “Yeah, she is. You’re here about the Haitian clinic?”

  “Damned straight! You need to talk to the Guardians. This isn’t right.”

  He stretched his neck to ease the building tightness. “Come inside. I’ll make coffee.” He’d need another cup of strong brew for this conversation.

  Danny followed him into the kitchen. “They can’t do this, Luke. Dr. Morno’s serum has to work.”

  Shit. He did not want to have this conversation with Danny. Not today, not ever. The serum was never going to work, and shortly Dr. Morno wouldn’t be working, either.

  Luke was shutting her clinic down.

  Biding for time, he pressed the button on his espresso maker and filled his cup. This was not going to be an easy conversation, but he didn’t sugarcoat it. “You need to let it go.”

  “They’re letting people die.”

  “We can’t save everyone.” The old terror burned in his veins. Hell, he couldn’t save anyone. He was one man fighting an invisible killer to protect what was most precious to him. And time was running out.

  Danny shook his head. “You can talk to the Guardians again, right? Or let me do it. The clinic needs more time, that’s all.”

  Luke grimaced. Danny was like a Rat Terrier. He just wouldn’t quit. “I’m the only one who speaks to the Guardians.”

  “Yeah, yeah, secret philanthropic group, blah-blah. I get it.”

  Danny didn’t get it, but he couldn’t tell him too much without jeopardizing everything. “Listen, the Guardians won’t give Dr. Morno additional funding because her results are lousy. It’s a simple business decision.”

  “Simple because it’s not cancer.” Danny spit out the words forgetting how deeply they’d cut, or because he knew they would.

  He ground his back molars. “Danny…”

  “Those bastards! No one should choose who lives and dies.”

  Shit. He silently flogged himself for letting Danny get too emotionally attached to the project. Big mistake. Danny believed in miracles. But miracles didn’t happen too often in Luke’s world.

  “I wish I could change things.” The weight of his words pressed on his chest.

  Danny perked up. “You can. Go down to Haiti yourself.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. Yeah, he could, but he’d been fighting that scenario. “You won’t give this one up, will you?”

  “I can’t. You’ll change the Guardians’ minds once you see the clinic in action.” Danny paced Luke’s kitchen. “Come on, I need this.”

  Luke put his coffee cup down too hard and splashed the countertop. “Why is one AIDS trial so important to you? You said you were clean.”

  “It’s not me. Larry’s HIV is cocktail-resistant. If this serum doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “Hold up. Isn’t Larry the online chat guy?”

  “He is. Was. I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to jinx anything. We’re in love, Luke. We’ve been seeing each other for six months and have decided to move in together. Hell, he’s already at my place more than his.” Danny stopped pacing and leveled his blue eyes at Luke. “Don’t you get it? If this doesn’t work…” He whispered, “He needs a cure.”

  Ah, hell. “You said the ‘L’ word.”

  “Hard to believe, huh?” Danny’s crooked grin was at once full of wonder and sadness.

  Luke had never seen him like this. If this was love, it would be a first for Danny. From a forgotten memory, he could hear Soli saying, “We all need love, Luke. It’s what keeps the corazon beating.”

  Shutting his eyes, he groaned. She’d been right. His heart nearly stopped the day he buried her.

  Danny must have sensed he was breaking him down. “Come on, buddy. I know you won’t be sorry.”

  Shit, he was already sorry. From the reports he’d seen, the project was a big waste of money. The Guardians had sent a warning to the clinic to shape up or shut down. Standard operating procedure for failed medical trials. Damned if Dr. Morno hadn’t sent a scalding letter straight back. She cited section thirteen of her Guardian contract and demanded, not requested, more time.

  After shaking off the shock that a doctor in a tiny clinic in Haiti had the balls to challenge the Guardians, he dug out the contract. Section thirteen was a nightmare. It took him a good half hour to wade through the legal mumbo-jumbo and realize his fate. The contract allowed additional time if success was eminent. The ball-buster? Only the Guardians could determine a successful trial by witnessing it firsthand. He was stuck. Although he wished he could skip the trip, there was no one else to send in his place. And now that Danny was weighing in…

  “Haiti,” he grumbled. “I’d rather visit my in-laws.”

  “No you wouldn’t. They’d kill you.” Danny cracked a smile. “You’re going to see Dr. Morno, right?”

  He remembered all the times Danny had been there for him—in the hospitals, the waiting rooms, at graveside. Luke massaged his temples. “Yeah. I’ll go.” He didn’t really have a choice.

  “Thanks, Luke.”

  “If I don’t see results, I’ll close the doors. That’s how the Guardians roll. There’s only so much money available, and it has to be spent on trials with the best chance for saving lives.” Apparently, he’d have to explain things to Dr. Morno, as well.

  “I owe you, bro.”

  “We’ll call it even if you watch Sunny while I’m gone.”

  “Wait, what?” Danny started stammering. “Can’t I just water the plants? I’m no good at taking care of little kids.”

  “Fourteen is no longer a little kid. She’ll probably mother you like she does me. Besides, I won’t be gone long.”

  Get In and Get Out was his motto in a situation like this one. No need to prolong the inevitable. Besides, Luke couldn’t bear to be apart from his girl for more than a day. She was the only reason he hadn’t crawled into a hole when her mother died. Sunny was the air he breathed.

  “Is she okay? Really?” Danny asked.

  His gut clinched. “Yes.” For now.

  “That’s good. I was so wrapped up in…sorry. I’ll take care of Sunny. Absolutely. No sweat. Thanks, Luke.” Danny gave him a bear hug. “Larry will be so relieved.”

  As Luke watched the Smart Car disappear down the street, he shook his head. “Damn, I’m getting soft.”

  He should’ve pulled the plug on the Haitian clinic six months ago. He wanted to eradicate the disease as much as the next guy, especially if the results had potential benefits for patients with cancer. AIDS was a horrible disease, but cancer was personal. Cancer had decimated his life.

  He shook his head. To satisfy the contract, he’d go to Haiti and give the doctor one more day to prove she could get her shit together. One. If Dr. Morno hadn’t struck the motherlode of miraculous results by the time he got there, he’d personally close her doors. End of story.

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  January, 4, 2010. Eight Days…

  Port-au-Prince, Haiti

  Luke was sandwiched in the third row of an ancient, wildly colorful Chevy bus called a tap-tap. An unusual mix of sweat, exhaust, and mildew assaulted his nose as the city flew by outside the filthy bus windows. The tap-tap driver barreled over every pothole on the Jean-Jacques Dessalines Boulevard.

  “Hey! This is my stop,” Luke yelled.

  The driver smashed the brake pedal into the rusted out floorboards. Luke’s nose was dr
iven into the torn seat in front of him.

  Checking for blood, Luke grabbed his things and climbed over passengers to get out before the wild ride started up again. Putting his weight into it, he shoved open the rickety door. He didn’t realize until it was too late his foot had caught on a large burlap sack shoved under the front seat. He plunged headfirst out of the tap-tap, straight for a polluted gutter.

  A grizzly-bearded old gentleman grabbed him by the elbow and jerked him up short.

  “Merci!” Luke took a deep breath and nodded to his savior.

  The old man tipped his head in a regal sort of way and muttered, “Padekwa.”

  The tap-tap spewed a cloud of diesel exhaust into Luke’s face. Stepping over the junk spilling into the streets like acne from every pore of the city, he moved into the shade of a white building with turquoise awnings. The sign on the door said simply, AIDS CLINIC.

  He’d made it. He straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket. It was far too hot to be wearing his “power suit,” but Luke wanted to make a statement. This was business, after all.

  At least fifteen faces looked up at him when he walked through the glass doors into the waiting room. A large woman with salt-and-pepper braided hair was inside the check-in booth. The glass all around her was greenish and thick, most likely bullet-proof. Her window to the world was open just enough to take the patient’s fifty goudes, which Luke converted in his head to be a little over one U.S. dollar. The rest of the bill was left for the Guardians to subsidize. Open-mouthed, she chewed on an apple while answering the phone and making appointments.

  “Excuse me. I’m here to see Dr. Ysabeau Morno,” Luke said.

  The receptionist didn’t answer, writing instead on an appointment pad.

  “Do you speak English? Please tell Dr. Morno—”

  She moved to throw the apple core away. This woman had no idea he was paying her salary. For now. Luke was tired, hot, and desperate to get this mess over with so he could go home. He opened her door and went inside her glass cage.