True Blue SEALs: Zak (True Navy Blue #1)

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True Blue SEALs: Zak (True Navy Blue #1) Page 20

by Sharon Hamilton


  The young Second Class Petty Officer tasked with getting him to the airport was chewing gum, and wearing silver wraparound shades, though the sky was cloudy, threatening rain. Zak judged he was probably his age, in his early twenties. He was a volunteer from the USO Warrior Center at Landstuhl.

  “S.O. Chambers. Lookin’ good. I’m Second Class Petty Officer Hayes, at your service,” he said and then made a slight incantation of the head—not really a bow—to Zak. To the orderly, he smirked, “I got this.” He wheeled the chair from the entrance ramp to the curb a few yards away where a dark blue VW Golf was parked. The orderly followed them.

  “I can stand and walk on my own,” insisted Zak when Hayes started to turn the chair around.

  “Okay, you be the man, then.”

  Zak got up with ease. His leg wasn’t hurting him any longer. His wrist and elbow were stiff from being immobilized. Zak had tossed the arm sling away on the trip down the hospital hallway.

  The inside of the government-issue car smelled like some fake strawberry mixture. The scent was dangling from a MaiTai-shaped cardboard cutout hung on the rear view mirror. Zak found the young enlisted man irritatingly chipper.

  “So where’s home?”

  “San Diego.”

  “Nice! That’s not home; that’s paradise.”

  The skin underneath his white bandage was beginning to itch again. He’d look for a back scratcher at the airport, but for now, he used his finger, slipping it up underneath the heavily padded wrap covering half his face and skull. He was going to let his beard continue to grow, but part of it was constricted by the bandage and tape, and that made him itch as well.

  “What happened there?”

  “I got shot.”

  “Oh Jeez, in the face?”

  “Sort of.” Zak leaned back so his good left eye could take in the young sailor.

  “You over in Afghanistan or where?”

  “That’s classified. Sorry.” Zak didn’t want to tell him anyway.

  “Oh. That’s right. You’re Special Ops.”

  The airport couldn’t come soon enough for Zak. He didn’t want to be rude, but Hays was getting on his nerves big time, talking about how he loved German girls and all the great beer. Zak was helpless to endure the guy’s tales of sexual exploits.

  He thought about Amy. What would it be like to be close to her again? The thought of getting intimate with her filled him with dread. How long would she last if he had that attitude? He chastised himself for the fifth time today about this.

  At the airport, Hayes handed the bag to another USO representative who handed him his tickets and stayed with him until his connecting flight arrived.

  As he walked down the airport halls, Zak was the object of much attention. They’d allowed him to fly in civilian clothes, but the presence of his helper in uniform identified him as a wounded vet. While the smiles and nods were well-meaning, Zak wanted to shrink into the ground and disappear. He hadn’t had that much attention since his days on the high school football team. But unlike then, this attention made him feel like an invalid. A cripple.

  After four transfers and nearly twenty hours, his plane touched down in San Diego. He was grateful for the shower he was able to get at the USO in Dallas before his last leg home. His seven-day beard remained. He fancied himself some kind of pirate, but instead of a sexy eye patch, he had this fuckin’ white face obliterator. Alex was right. He could do a zombie movie, no problem.

  He didn’t have baggage, just the duty bag stuffed with things he’d brought to the Canaries. Absent the M4 and clips, his bag resembled the flesh hanging off an old horse. A muscled young man took the bag from him.

  “Here, let me take that.”

  Zak clung to the bag until he saw the chocolate brown eyes of Alex. “Hey, man. Wow, didn’t expect you.” He checked the area around his Team buddy.

  “Amy’s with the car.”

  Zak wasn’t sure why that bothered him, but it did. Amy said she had seen Alex. Were they now good friends? Talking on a regular basis? He was getting used to everything bothering him all the time now.

  “Cool.” He hoped his words masked the uneasiness he felt throughout his intestines. He’d had a stomach bordering on nausea the whole trip from Dallas.

  “She invited me to come help her welcome you home. But if it was me, I’d rather have the little lady, all nekked and hot for my sorry ass being gone so long. Know what I’m sayin’?” He shrugged, waiting for a reaction from Zak.

  The clean-shaven SEAL was the handsomest of the legendary bachelor SEALs. He’d gotten some sun, and he appeared healthier than he’d last seen him. Zak knew his own picture resembled one of the Iranian hostages he’d seen on TV years ago. He was the guy with the big white bandage on his face. That guy had a beard and only one eye showing, too.

  Alex watched him do the head thing. Thinking about everything—anything—but getting intimate with Amy. Maybe he knew that, Zak thought. Maybe he thought he could slip in there when he wasn’t around? Maybe Amy had formed a quickie friendship with him.

  “You help her ease the pain, my friend?” His words sounded bitter. Not at all the way he needed to talk to his team.

  “Fuck no. That’s not me, man. Maybe some regular Navy grunt, but not me.”

  So now he’d managed to piss off Alex too, and all he’d wanted to do was help out. Or that’s what he said.

  Who knew the truth?

  Am I jealous? Or am I just angry? He was probably making it all up, but his frustration was focusing on Alex at that moment as if all the things about his situation had been stolen by him, not by circumstance. He’d stepped up to the plate and been a hero, and now his life would be shit forever.

  The thoughts rattled around and around in his head until he felt Alex grab his cheeks, slap them with his hands, and yell for God and everyone on the planet to hear, “Fuck sake, Zak. You’re alive! You’re fuckin’ back in the U.S. of A.”

  Zak delivered Alex a murderous glare just as the people behind him gathered in a polite semicircle—complete strangers—and began to clap.

  If there wasn’t a crowd of troop supporters around to witness it, Zak would have punched Alex out right then and there. He’d have knocked two teeth out of his fuckin’ head, too.

  Obligation and duty forced him to turn and give a grin to the crowd, waving, but inside, it felt like a grimace.

  “They love you, man,” Alex said, his arms outstretched.

  Zak had started for the exit. Alex ran to catch up to him. Zak stopped, and the two of them nearly collided. He narrowed his eyes and focused on Alex’s Adam’s apple, the place he wanted to punch so badly it was making his knuckles sore just from the thought of it. “You do that again, Alex, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

  Amy’s frame was small behind the wheel of the huge maroon hummer. She struggled with the big door and then ran around the front of the truck. He could tell she was forcing herself not to notice the bandage.

  She stopped herself right before she reached him. Taking the last step deliberately eyes raking over his chest, she then laid her cheek on his sternum. “Welcome home, Zak.” He could feel the vibration of her torso as she spoke the words in a low growl.

  The sensation of holding her was overwhelming. His hands found the back of her waist, following up the trail her spine made, until one hand massaged the back of her neck. It was an instinctive gesture. Something he didn’t have to think about.

  She was trembling. Before the deployment, he’d have reassured her he was present and nothing could hurt her, beg her to be strong, not to be afraid. But he couldn’t go that far today. As if she was poison to him, he suddenly released her and took a step back.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”

  He saw her little lapse, her eyes shifting for a millisecond over his face covering, checking it out. She recovered quickly, her eyes riveted on him again.

  He felt like a complete heel. The sight of her sweet face and luscious body frightened him mo
re than he’d imagined. “Just a little.”

  “Come on, lovebirds. Let’s get you home.” Alex threw the bag in the front seat, opened up the rear door, and motioned for them to crawl in.

  Amy’s smooth ass preceded him as she climbed up into the second seat. In the old days, he would have told her how much he’d dreamt of that ass, of what she meant to him, of how her body set him on fire.

  But letting those feelings anywhere close to him right now was the scariest thing he’d ever done in his life. He was suddenly sitting next to the one person in the whole world who terrified him—not for who she was, but for who he had become.

  Chapter 19

  Amy’s heart was racing as she bounced in the back seat of the Hummer. Alex had a country station on, a little loud. She figured he’d wanted to give them privacy, but it was hard to hear each other without shouting.

  Her thigh rested against his. His bandage wasn’t as prominent when she sat on his left, as she was now. She felt the heat of his body the entire length of hers. The beard made him seem older. She snuck little glances at his profile when he turned to the right, glancing away in time not to be caught.

  She gently grabbed one of his hands, holding it with both of hers. She traced an imaginary line with her forefinger up and down his fingers, one by one, and around his palm. He gazed down, expressionless.

  She brought his palm to her cheek and turned to him. His body flinched. Even though she was the one pressing his hand against her, the touch of her man still brightened her spirit. Zak was inside there, somewhere, she thought as she watched his brow furrow slightly and then the lines disappear. He gave no further indication of what was going on with him, and she made the decision not to press.

  “I’m so glad you’re home, Zak,” she whispered. She doubted he could hear but noticed he’d paid attention to her lips moving and knew what she said anyway.

  His eyes slowly closed. When he opened them, there was moisture there.

  “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

  He removed his hand and brought his arm around her, resting partially on the back seat. Amy relished the feel of his quiet strength. She wanted to snuggle under the weight of his huge shoulder, but sensed he didn’t want that.

  At the apartment, Alex was going to bring the bag to Zak’s front door.

  “No way, man. This is fine. You’ve done more than enough. Thanks,” Zak said as the two SEALs hugged briefly.

  “Now, you guys have fun tonight,” Alex said, winking at Amy.

  “Thanks for coming. I appreciate it,” she whispered.

  “Sure thing, doll.” He leaned over, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and left.

  At the front door, Amy produced her key and unlocked their apartment. She stepped to the side so Zak could see what she’d done to make it more attractive.

  He dropped the black satchel and scanned the walls. Amy had purchased a few large plants, including a tree fern that nearly touched the ceiling. She’d covered the living room couch with a green pastel quilt she’d bought in a second hand store and found pillows to match. She moved the weight set that had been in the living room and Zak’s desk to the second bedroom. A framed print of the ocean in pastels hung over the couch, blending with the green walls and white ceiling.

  There was still a bit of a paint smell, but the place was clean and dotted with area rugs and colorful accessories. She’d milk painted the coffee table a light salmon. The back of the pantry door in the kitchen, she’d painted over with chalkboard paint. Welcome Home, Zak was written in green chalk with a red heart drawn underneath it. She’d placed yellow roses both on the kitchen counter and the dinette table.

  “You went to a lot of work, Amy. Looks nice.”

  “You like it?”

  “Doesn’t resemble anything it did before.” He gave her a half-smile. “You did all this for me?”

  “Of course. I did it for us. I wanted our first night together here to be special, Zak.” She walked to him. His arms remained at his sides at first as she pressed against him, balancing her forearms on his shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re home, sweetheart.”

  She kissed him and then felt the familiar sensation of his hands rubbing over her backside, up her back, finally pulling her to him, his erection pressing against her lower belly. Their kiss deepened, and although Amy tried to avoid the bandage, her nose rubbed against the white cotton. Her hair brushed over the adhesive tape. As they parted, the familiar way her heart slammed against her insides filled her with delicious fantasies. Something was pulling at her hair when she noticed several strands were caught in the tape. She used her fingers to remove the rest of it from the stubborn adhesive.

  “Sorry, I’m not used to it yet. I’m sure in time—”

  “You better get used to it. Going to need several surgeries. This will be me for the foreseeable future.” He stepped back, his head bobbing, hand splayed at the top of his chest.

  “No worries, Zak. I’ll get used to it. I just have to learn. That’s all.”

  Zak turned around. Not wanting any space between them, Amy spooned behind him, feeling him stiffen as her palms called to him, begging to explore his chiseled abs, one by one. She lifted his shirt and kissed his bare skin down low, kissed up his spine until she was pulling his shirt over his head, dropping it to the side. She removed her top and unclasped her bra, letting him feel the warmth of her breasts against his back while her palms pulled him hard against her. “God, Zak, I’ve missed you so much.”

  Her hands migrated lower to cover his cock, and she stroked the length of it through his jeans. His hands were on hers immediately, stopping her.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “I can’t do this, Amy.”

  She stepped in front of him. He glanced down briefly at her tits, her engorged nipples feeling hot and needing release. “Why? What’s wrong, Zak?”

  “Can’t you see? Are you completely blind?”

  “Of course not.” Her hand migrated to touch the bandage, and he stopped her.

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t make any difference to me.” She reached for his groin again, and again, his hands stopped her. The way he held her wrists was a little too forceful and hurt.

  “Don’t.”

  “What is it, Zak? Tell me.”

  “I don’t feel like it anymore. I just—this is just too close for me right now.”

  “But, sweetheart, you’ve gone through an ordeal. Let me soften it. Let me love you, Zak. Please.” Her fingers lightly traveled over his forearms to his nipples and then in a slow arc downward. Two fingers on her right hand tried to find space inside the front of his jeans at the waistband.

  “I said no!” His command scared her.

  Amy found one of the used overstuffed chairs she’d bought and sat down, crossing her legs. She let her blouse drape open. He was turned away from her. From the back and side of him, no one would be able to tell he had a bandage on his face. Silent tears dripped down onto her chest, over her breasts, and onto her lap. “Sit down and let’s talk then.”

  “I don’t want to fuckin’ talk.”

  “So what am I supposed to do, Zak?”

  He faced her again. “I seriously think I should leave.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “I need some time, Amy.” His shoulders drooped, arms hanging at the sides. His fingers nervously flexed and released as his head angled back and to the right. She saw that he was in a huge amount of emotional pain. “Don’t push. I’m not very good company.”

  “You can take all the time you need.” She wiped the tears from her face with the backs of her hands. His expression changed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I think I’m sorry, Zak. I guess I should have known when you didn’t call me there was something going on.” Amy carefully, slowly buttoned up her shirt and, without looking at him, stood up. She picked up her bra from the floor. “Come on. I’ll show you the office I made for you. And I think you’ll like the way I fixed up
our bedroom.”

  Amy put one foot in front of the other, numbed by the interaction, which wasn’t anything like what she expected. She heard his movements behind her, following. Turning the door handle to the office, she pushed it open and let him peer inside.

  “Big improvement. Thank you.”

  Amy still didn’t turn to scan his face, continuing down to the master bedroom with the door open. She’d placed candles all around the bed and on the dressers she’d painted and distressed with muted Caribbean colors of turquoise and light rose.

  The beautiful stage had been set, but there were no actors in this passion play. The king-sized bed lay idle. She knew it was selfishness that was burrowing a hole in her gut.

  “I’m very grateful to be home. Thank you for all of this. Give me a little time, but don’t expect too much at first, okay?”

  When she faced him, studying the custom fit partial mask he wore, she needed to tell him the truth.

  “Okay, Zak. I promise to give you that time. Take all you need. I’m not going anywhere. This is our home now. You’re here, but you’re not. You come back to me, and I’ll wait. Just don’t take too long.”

  Amy put her nightgown on and slipped into bed, her back to Zak’s side. She heard the shower running and smelled the clean fresh scent of soap as it bubbled over his body.

  It had been a full day, ripe with anticipation. But like so many things in life, she never could have predicted this. She let her tears flow, careful with her breathing so he wouldn’t hear her. Her heart was cracked open and lay bleeding. Surrounded by a community she knew cared about her, a loving father, and a husband now back from a difficult trip overseas, injured both physically and mentally, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was all alone. Amy knew this would be the first of many such dark days. Zak was a different man, not the man who left. And maybe that Zak, the old Zak she’d fallen in love with, maybe he would never return. That sobering thought stopped her tears as fear gripped her.

  And then she remembered her promise. “I’ll always be here when you come home.” That meant being here for whenever and whatever she would face. That’s what she’d signed on to.

 

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