Love Runs Deep
Page 1
Active duty is no time for romance, but when two naval officers find themselves in truly close quarters on the USS California, the temptation to fraternize is hard to resist. Can two ambitious sailors follow orders long enough to see if love is on the horizon when they’re finally above water?
Lieutenant Nic Riley is the only girl in a long-time Navy family, and she’s determined to prove she’s just as seaworthy as her brothers. When she aces training for submarine duty, it calls for a celebration—and one incredibly hot guy is happy to party with her all night long. But when Nic boards the sub and finds herself face to face with her hunky fling, the idea of spending six months underwater takes on a whole new meaning . . .
Having a girl in every port was Lieutenant Kyle Hutchinson’s style—until the explosive night he spent with Nic. Dating onboard is firmly off limits, but Kyle can’t get her off his mind much less out of his vicinity—until a junior seaman’s devastating stunt puts Nic’s career in danger. Kyle won’t let her take the heat alone, even when it means risking his own reputation, but fighting for a future together will be a whole new battle . . .
Books by Gail Chianese
The West Side Romance Series
Bachelorette for Sale
Boyfriend for Hire
Fiancé for Keeps
The Changing Tides Series
Love Runs Deep
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Love Runs Deep
The Changing Tides Series
Gail Chianese
LYRICAL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
kensingtonbooks.com
Lyrical Press books are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Gail Chianese
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fundraising, and educational or institutional use.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager:
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Attn. Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
LYRICAL PRESS Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition:
eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0029-3
eISBN-10: 1-5161-0029-8
First Print Edition:
ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0030-9
ISBN-10: 1-5161-0030-1
Table of Contents
About the Book
Books By Gail Chianese
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Fiancé for Keeps Teaser
About the Author
Bachelorette for Sale
Boyfriend for Hire
For all the women who serve. You ladies ROCK!
And for my grandpa, the first sailor I ever loved and who introduced me to the magical world of books.
Acknowledgments
Years ago Eloisa James asked me why wasn’t I writing about the world I knew so well—Navy life—after all, I’ve lived it for years. I guess I was just waiting for the right story to come along, but I have to thank her for putting that thought in my head.
I also couldn’t have written this without the help of CDR Shawn Huey who took the time to answer my questions on current life on a fast-attack submarine.
Many thanks go out the former crewmembers of the USS Parche SSN 683, the most decorated submarine in the US Navy for sharing their stories with me. But there’s one sailor in particular that I owe more than thanks to and that’s my amazing husband, CWO James Chianese (also of the fore mention USS Parche) who not only answered about a bazillion questions, but read the story for accuracy. Any “errors” are solely my fault or liberties my imagination has taken. I love you, honey. Thank you.
To my editor, Martin Biro, thank you for your patience, input, and support.
To my amazing writing chapter, Connecticut Romance Writers, I’d be lost without you; especially my MTB’s!
And to you dear readers, thank you for spending your time with me. As always, I am honored and forever grateful.
Chapter One
Music pounded in her ears and chest. Smoke filled the air, stinging her eyes. The smell of sweat and stale beer tickled her noise and Lieutenant Lily “Nic” Riley couldn’t be happier. After weeks of study in preparation for life on a submarine, she and her fellow female officers had not only survived fire training, but also the wet trainer. Having twenty thousand gallons of water pumped into a small, enclosed space and then sticking a hood over her face had been almost more than she could handle. In the end, she proved her father wrong; she could take it like a man.
“Let’s pray we never have to go out the escape trunk in real life. Y’all, I almost lost it right there.” Cherise Johnson’s slow southern drawl dragged the sentence out.
“Really?” Lindsey Pratt looked from Cherise to Nic and back. “I thought it was killer fun. Sure beats tipping cows in Nowhereville, Kansas.”
“I’m with Cherise, once was more than enough.” Nic raised her glass. “A toast to us, the future rock stars of the Navy and for kicking butt during training.”
The three tapped the rims of their glasses together before taking sips of their drinks, or in Lindsey’s case, downing half the bottle. They made an interesting and contrasting trio. Cherise with her close-cropped curls, curve-hugging dress, stilettos, and don’t-mess-with-me face. It wasn’t that she wasn’t nice; she simply kept people at a distance. Lindsey, who had burned her good girl clothes the minute she boarded the bus for boot camp, wore leggings, knee-high boots, and a slinky top that was only held up by her double D’s. Her blond, unruly curls fit Linds’s personality. Both friends made Nic’s outfit look very girl next door. Even her waist-length brownish-black hair hung straight as a stick.
In normal life, chances were low the three of them would have crossed paths, but the Navy had a way of bringing people together, of creating bonds stronger than blood and flesh. While Nic and Cherise had served together aboard the USS Ronald Reagan a few years back, they didn’t meet up with Linds, who was brand new to the Navy, until sub school.
They’d ditched the base as soon as liberty hit, heading north and away from fellow squids and prying eyes. Being the only Navy brat in the group, Nic was fami
liar with New England and picked Boston as their destination.
New York would have been fun, if it hadn’t been Fleet Week. All she wanted was a weekend of fun where she could forget she was the Admiral’s daughter.
“Just think, in five days we’ll report to our first boats. One hundred and forty men and me. Sounds like heaven.” Lindsey took another drink of her beer and looked around.
“Um, Lindsey, you know you can’t date the men on your boat, right?” Cherise, ever the practical one, pointed out the bad news to their man-crazed friend. “Fraternization?”
“Nic, tell me she’s joshing.”
“Technically, it’s only against the rules if he’s either over you or under you,” Nic replied.
“Well, those are my favorite positions.” Lindsey winked. “But man, does that suck the fun out of the whole deal. Guess we better get our fill tonight to hold us over. And Lordy, we’ve got some mighty fine selections to choose from.”
Nic let her gaze travel around the bar. She’d picked this place on the recommendation of a friend who had lived in the area specifically because said friend had promised it wasn’t popular with the military crowd. The men-to-women ratio was in their favor. Not that she was looking to get laid like Lindsey, but it would be nice to let her hair down and have a little fun.
“Pick up a guy from a bar?” Cherise’s stiff posture and snippy tone sent Lindsey sliding off her stool. “No way. I’ll pass. My mom would roll in her grave—if she were dead. Plus, he could be a psychopath.”
“Whatever.” Lindsey went and stood at the bar, her back to her friends, head held high.
“Cherise, hon, don’t you think that came out a little harsh?”
This was not what Nic wanted, to play the mediator, but she wanted to cut the tension and get back to relaxing. Once they reported aboard their respective boats it would be nothing but hard work and her focus would be strictly on business.
“Maybe, but that’s all she talks about—men and sex. Some of us weren’t raised that way.”
“Neither was Linds. Her dad is a pastor and her boyfriend broke up with her right before she reported to sub school. Do me a favor?” She reached out and gave Cherise’s arm a squeeze. “Go easy on her tonight.”
Cherise nodded and Lindsey came bouncing back to the table with a fresh drink for each of them. “Nic, check your six. You’ve got an admirer.”
Grabbing her phone, Nic slid off her stool and went around the table to stand in between her friends where she could get a good look. She held the phone up, reversed the camera, enlarged the screen and hit the button. While she was at it, she took a second picture, this time of the three of them. Going back to her seat, she brought up the first shot and checked out the guy in question. Good looking in a rakish-sort of way. Light eyes. Maybe blue, maybe gray? Hard to say from a picture. High, sharp cheekbones, a couple days’ worth of growth along the jaw line and framing his mouth, which drew her attention to his very kissable lips. Fit, and with his messy, long chestnut brown hair there was no way he was military. Meaning he was a perfect choice.
Should she be interested.
Which she wasn’t sure if she was or not.
Linds wasn’t the only one who had wounds to lick, although Nic had dumped her own boyfriend, not the other way around. It had been over for a year, not weeks like her friend’s relationship, and she couldn’t say she’d been bitter about the break-up. More like relieved, which told her she hadn’t been in love. Thank goodness since Mark had the emotional maturity of a thirteen-year-old and the staying power of cheap glue.
The whole thing did make her question her ability to feel deep emotions, because she always picked guys like him. Guys who seemed great at first, loved to have a good time, who everyone loved, made everyone laugh and yet, couldn’t see past the end of the day to plan for tomorrow much less the future.
The music broke and deep, masculine laughter rumbled through the room, dragging every woman’s attention in the place to the men at the pool table. Mr. Smooth’s hand clamped down on his buddy’s shoulder before stepping away to allow the man to take his shot.
He lifted his head as he brought the frosty beer to his mouth, eyes locked on to Nic and in that moment the world around her slowed. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and heat rushed her cheeks.
The corners of his mouth slipped upward right before he saluted her with his bottle and took a long pull, eyes never releasing her.
She broke first, turning back to her friends.
Linds grinned like a damn fool and Cherise sat with her mouth hanging open.
“What?” Nic didn’t wait for them to answer. She took the last swallow of her Chambord and soda to moisten her desert-dry mouth and stalked off to the bathroom to splash cold water over the back of her wrists.
Holy guacamole. She needed more than cold water after that smoldering look; more like a time-out on an iceberg. Desire and embarrassment from the thoughts racing through her brain sent heat coursing through her body, turning her pale skin bright pink. Thank goodness for bar lighting. Since she didn’t see any handy icebergs, she grabbed a paper towel, ran it under ice cold water and placed it on the back of her neck.
What the heck was up with her? It took more than a pretty face to turn her to mush. She needed a guy with a sense of humor, a personality, and brains, which is why even though she’d succumbed to Mark’s soulful brown eyes, she’d hadn’t fallen. Okay, she’d admit his rockin’ hot bod had helped, but that was kind of expected when the guy’s a Navy SEAL.
Still she knew better. After all, she also had two older, good-looking brothers and watched friend after friend fall for them, only to be crushed when Liam and Reece looked the other way.
As her body temp cooled down, Nic shoved thoughts of the past and the future away. Deep contemplation of her future or past wasn’t for tonight. Nothing could be done about the one and the other wasn’t here yet. Nope, tonight was all about fun, hanging with her girls, and living in the moment.
Making her way back to the table, she let her gaze linger on the men around the pool table. Her ‘friend’ from earlier, for lack of a better word, currently had his backside to her as he bent over the table to take a shot.
Not bad.
As if he felt her gaze on him, he looked over his shoulder. One corner of his mouth lifted in a caught-you smile. Then he turned away and took his shot, sending his ball into the opposite pocket. She left him to his game and joined her actual friends, who had played musical chairs, putting her in the perfect spot to see and be seen by him.
Both Lindsey and Cherise had grins a mile wide on their faces and there were three fresh drinks on the table. Looks like one of them had a goal to get drunk tonight.
“Uh, guys thanks for the drink, but I’m not sure I want another yet.” Nic twirled the ice around in her glass. At least it’d give her something to focus on other than a certain guy.
“We didn’t order them.” Lindsey’s smile twinkled with mischief.
“Nope,” Cherise chimed in. “These are from your admirer. Not that you have to do anything about it, but it is nice to be noticed once in a while.”
Nic looked to each of her friends, to her drink, and, finally, across the room. Mr. Smooth lifted his beer in a salute, which she acknowledged with a smile and a nod.
“Suppose we should go over and thank him,” Lindsey mused out loud.
“It is the proper thing to do.” Cherise’s pinched face didn’t match her words, probably worrying again that the men at the pool table were serial killers or something.
“I wonder if his friend could teach me how to play,” Linds asked.
Right. The chances were high that Lindsey wasn’t talking billiards. Whatever; the girl deserved a fun night out as much as the rest. Even if she’d been the type to judge, Nic was in no place to do so. Something about glass houses and throwing stones flitted around her brain.
She hesitated, not really in the mood, bu
t knew Lindsey would nag about wasted opportunity and Cherise would fret about proper protocol until she gave in and talked to the guy. Ugh. The things she did for friends.
Nic took a couple of minutes to calm the bouncing bumble in her stomach before walking over. She stood next to a pillar by the pool table, out of range of getting poked with a cue stick. It was Mr. Smooth’s turn to shoot, and he had his back to her where she quietly admired his form. Feeling a little stalkerish, she cleared her throat. Not once did he look over his shoulder at her. The guy had focus, that’s for sure.
* * *
Kyle Hutchinson hadn’t started the day with any plans other than getting the hell away from home as fast as a commercial jet could fly. Five days with his family was more than he could take. One minute more of listening to his dad rag on him about taking care of him and his mom or being there for his dumbass brothers and he’d explode. Regardless of what his old man said, he wasn’t running away from his responsibilities.
Hadn’t he taken leave and flown home the second he’d gotten word about his mom’s heart attack? Didn’t he send home money every month to make sure the rent got paid? Of course if the dipshit twins, Keith and Kenny, would get jobs, his mom could cut back her hours. Just because Kyle chose to show his support from afar, didn’t make him a cold-hearted bastard.
He knew not to let the barbs sink in, that he should be more than used to the comments and verbal slashing, but ten hours later and his dad’s parting words still stung like a fresh wound with saltwater rushing over the raw flesh.