Natalie’s family wasn’t just well-to-do; they were ridiculously wealthy. And as soon as Natalie had gained access to her trust fund, she’d started one charitable foundation after another, all of which generated a steady stream of exactly the type of high society social events Jake couldn’t stand. Jake had managed to avoid all the benefits the happy couple had hosted—until now.
It’s not that he didn’t respect what Natalie did—he’d happily give his time and money to help foster kids or cancer patients or homeless pets—he just wasn’t thrilled about donning a tux and sitting in a stuffy ballroom for three hours sipping watered-down Manhattans and eating overcooked filet mignon.
Jake couldn’t avoid the SoCal Turtle Conservation Mission’s First Annual Bachelor/Bachelorette Auction, though. Not after the debt he owed his friend from the time when his path crossed with Brody’s while they were both downrange in Jalalabad. Brody had contacts in Washington, and when Jake’s Afghan translator was threatened for helping “the Americans,” Brody had facilitated visas for his entire family.
So Jake owed Brody a huge favor, and he was happy to pay him back—until he learned Natalie wanted all of Brody’s single friends to fill out the crowd at the next fundraiser. Jake should have known there was a catch when Natalie had specified that all the attendees had to be single.
Jake sighed as he entered the ballroom. It was going to be a long night. After locating the bar, he scanned the crowd for familiar faces. He recognized several guys from the teams—the Navy was a small organization, the SEAL world even smaller—but he opted to find the host before commiserating with them about being forced to attend. It didn’t take long to spot Brody and Natalie. They were surrounded by ten or so people, who were all paying rapt attention to Brody. He appeared to be telling a story with plenty of hand gestures. Jake chuckled. Brody could captivate an audience regardless of whether he was talking about going on a safari or changing the oil in a car.
When Brody saw Jake, his eyes lit up. He excused himself to let Natalie finish the saga. She may not have had the same booming voice, but she could hold a crowd just as well. They really were perfectly matched in so many ways.
“Jake!” Brody pulled him in for a tight hug. “It’s been way too long, man.”
“I know, brother.” Jake patted him on the back. “Though I wish I was running into you anywhere but here.”
Brody laughed. “It’s not so bad. Good food, free drinks…” He held up his glass and winked. “Lots of talent.”
Jake glanced around, unimpressed. “Where?”
“All the bachelorettes are backstage, man.” Brody checked his Rolex—a gift from Natalie for graduating BUD/S. While completing the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL school certainly warranted a gift like a Rolex—roughly seventy-five percent of the guys who start BUD/S fail out—most of the newly minted SEALs and their families didn’t have the means for such a luxurious gift. “The auction’s starting soon. And I guarantee there are at least a few ladies you’ll want to bid on.”
“Doubtful.” Jake said. “Even if I meet a woman who’s perfect in every way, the day I buy a date is the day I become utterly pathetic.”
“You wouldn’t even buy a date to save the turtles?”
“I’ll donate to the cause, sure. But I will never exchange cash for a woman’s attention.” Jake shook his head. “I need a drink.”
Brody motioned toward the bar. “Knock yourself out.” He put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “But trust me when I say this. You’re in for at least one surprise tonight.”
“You think so?”
Brody nodded. “By the way, you still talk to Masterson?”
Tyler Masterson had gone through basic training, and later, BUD/S with Jake and Brody. Although he and Jake had remained close—Tyler was a fellow sports car enthusiast and had actually helped Jake install the harnesses in Ruby—he was currently deployed with his team, which meant they hadn’t talked in a while.
“Yeah, man, we’re still friends.” Jake said. “Haven’t chatted with him recently, though. He okay?”
“Oh yeah,” Brody said. “I was just wondering if you guys were still tight.”
“Why?”
Brody smirked. “No reason.” He turned to rejoin Natalie without another word.
Jake shook his head. Brody liked to keep people guessing. During conversations, he would often mention something that seemed to have nothing to do with the topic at hand. At some point, though, he would tie it all together. Maybe that’s how he could always captivate a crowd. Maybe people enjoyed following his breadcrumb trails and guessing where they led before Brody got to the point.
Jake wondered what Masterson had to do with saving sea turtles as he made his way to the bar. It was just another breadcrumb from Brody. It would make sense eventually. He wouldn’t worry about it until then.
“I’ll take a Manhattan neat with rye, please,” he told the bartender. He scanned the crowd while waiting for his drink. There seemed to be a lot of men there who were actually eager for the bidding to begin—none of them fellow SEALs, thankfully. He found the whole auction thing a bit off-putting, to be honest. If you can’t get a woman to go out with you for free, you should do some soul-searching to figure out why. You shouldn’t opt to pay for dates instead, even if it was for a good cause.
After Jake got his drink, he found a spot to the left of the stage where he could watch. The emcee had already started introducing the women, to the audible enthusiasm of some members of the crowd. It didn’t take Jake long to realize the guys in front of him were more than a few drinks in. They were talking about the ladies who were gracing the stage as if they were at a cattle auction.
“God, the things I would do to that ass.”
“You know she likes it rough.”
“Between those lips and those tits, I don’t know where to look. Or come.”
Jake was disgusted. He knew part of it was the alcohol talking, and part of it was grandstanding, showing off for each other—when a group of guys gets together and drinks, vulgarity always ensues—but he was also fairly good at reading people. And stone-cold sober, on their best day, he was still willing to bet that these guys were no good.
He sighed. Hopefully there were more honorable men in the crowd who would outbid these tools. If any one of these guys managed to win a date, the bachelorette would need a full security detail for the evening.
“Sold!” the emcee bellowed into the microphone. “To the gentleman with the powder-blue tie.” He pounded a gavel as the man who had bid on “rock climbing with Tasha” strode over to the stage. The bachelorette smiled when she saw him. As he helped her down the stairs, the emcee turned back to the crowd.
“Our next bachelorette is a licensed therapist with a master’s in psychology. When she’s not traveling the globe attending conferences in her field, she’s scouring bakeries along the SoCal coast in search of the perfect cupcake. She plans on taking her date out for drinks right here at Hotel del Coronado. Enjoy a cocktail at sunset with this beautiful and accomplished woman.” The emcee held out his arm. “Let’s give a warm welcome to Hanna Masterson!”
Hanna Masterson?
Jake shook his head. Surely he had misheard the emcee.
When he saw the next bachelorette grace the stage, though, he knew he hadn’t. Suddenly, Brody’s breadcrumb comment made perfect, horrifying sense.
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BLURB
Former Navy SEAL Jed Tremayne knows discipline, hard work, and how to carry a rifle. So when his two best friends die suddenly and leave their daughter, Nala, in his care, Jed’s a little out of his element. Though he wants desperately to connect with her, Nala has withdrawn further and further into her books. Jed just needs a little help, and decides to hire a nanny, and who better than someone who loves to read as much as Nala does? Sure, Tess Frederick is a bit too intriguing, a little too sexy in an adorab
ly unconscious way, but she instantly connects with Nala so Jeb gives her the job.
Tess likes things ordered. But lately, her well-planned life has descended into a bit of chaos. Haunted by the suicide death of her former lover, and recovering from her bookstore going out of business, an open position for a private tutor seems like the perfect job to take while she figures out the rest of her life. Nala is an adorable and intelligent little girl and the two have an instant connection. Her guardian, Jed, is another matter altogether. Too good-looking. Too intense. And too sexy by far. If Tess can just get through the next few weeks with her heart intact, all will be well. The thing with hearts, though, no matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to turn hers off.
But as Jed and Tess begin to fall for each other, an unknown danger threatens their burgeoning love, a danger that blindsides them both and threatens their very lives—and the life of the little girl they both love. Can two broken souls find the strength to conquer this dark menace or will they be lost in the fight to survive?
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* * *
EXCERPT
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that, please?”
Jed Tremayne, retired Navy SEAL and current private security for hire, had faced down enemy snipers and charged directly in the line of fire to defend life, liberty, and honor. Yet, at this moment, he’d never felt more incompetent in his life—all because of the eleven-year-old girl currently sitting at his kitchen table with her nose stuck in a book, as usual.
The snooty administrator from the private school gave an aggrieved sigh. “I’m sorry, sir, but your daughter is just not making adequate progress in her classes, nor does she socialize with the other children. She is not assimilating into the student body sufficiently to meet her needs or ours.”
Nose wrinkled, Jed held his phone away from his ear and scowled down at it, taking a calming breath before responding. “First of all, she’s not my daughter.” He flinched slightly at the words. The girl glanced over at him before returning to her story. Cursing under his breath, Jed walked from the kitchen into a little alcove near the pantry for privacy. “I mean, she is my daughter, sort of. She’s my ward and she lives with me.” He left unsaid that their living situation was because Nala’s parents were killed in a car accident not long ago. Surely, the administrator already knew—and he didn’t want to say it aloud so that Nala might overhear. Her parents’ deaths had hit her incredibly hard. She didn’t need additional reminders. “All of this should be in your files.” He exhaled slow and scrubbed a hand over his close-cropped brown hair. “Listen, we’re both doing the best we can here. Can’t you give us a break?”
Asking for help wasn’t a skill Jed excelled at. It wasn’t in his nature. He’d been raised to prize independence, to trust only himself, to live by a strict moral compass and remain in control at all times. All things that had made him a huge success as a Navy SEAL.
All things that were causing him to be an enormous failure in the parenting department.
None of this was a surprise—even the phone call he was currently enduring. In truth, he’d realized that he needed help about two weeks after Nala had come to live with him. Between the crazy hours and danger associated with his security jobs, and Nala’s issues with socializing and adjusting to her new life, their road to resettlement had been bumpy, to say the least. Their mutual grief over the loss of her parents only made things worse.
Nala’s father, Martin Jackson, had been a member of Jed’s SEAL team. They’d been good friends. Hell, Jed had even served as best man at Martin’s wedding to Nala’s mother, Ayesha. He’d known Ayesha too, both of them having grown up in the same rough neighborhood here in Baltimore. He’d been the one to introduce Martin to her. The three of them had been tight. When the call had come in six months ago about the car accident that had killed them, he’d been devastated. Even more so when he’d gone to collect Nala from her home and bring her here. Neither Martin nor Ayesha had any other family to speak of, and they’d chosen Jed as Nala’s godfather, never imagining he’d be called on to step into the role of parent.
It all seemed like a horrible dream, except the reality of this nightmare was all too real.
He shook off the past and did his best to focus on what the administrator was droning on about now. “…follow my suggestion, it would work out best for all of us.”
“I’m sorry.” Jed rubbed his hand over his face. “I didn’t catch that.”
He could imagine the administrator’s pinched expression and sour frown at the other end of the line. Like that old Saturday Night Live sketch of the Church Lady, but on steroids. “I said that we believe it’s in everyone’s best interests to remove Nala from classes at the present time. We would suggest hiring a private tutor for her until such time as her social anxiety issues can be dealt with properly.”
Perfect. Jed managed to resist his impulse to slam his fist through the nearest wall in frustration and instead gripped his phone tighter. The plastic case cracked under the pressure. “Homeschooling? Seriously? Don’t you think she’d do better being around other kids right now instead of isolating her at home? How is she supposed to hone her social skills with no one to talk to?”
“She can talk with you and with her instructor, Mr. Tremayne,” the administrator said with a derisive sniff. “And please don’t raise your voice to me. I’m trying to help you with this situation.”
Then why does it feel like another kick in the teeth?
Jed swallowed those words and inhaled deep to slow his pounding pulse. With his background, he’d dealt with plenty of people like her—thinking they were so much better than him, thinking they were above it all in life, above all the petty problems and dirty deeds everyone else in the world had to deal with. Still, he’d hoped things would work out for Nala at the school. It had one of the best ratings in Maryland for helping kids with special needs. Apparently, those needs didn’t extend to stutters. Or bereavement. Or being one of the few black kids in an otherwise all white school.
Dammit. Jed let his head fall back, and he stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to find help for Nala. Lord knew he’d been interviewing nannies since the day after she’d moved into his restored Victorian house. Many had applied for the job, none—so far, at least—had passed muster. Too old, too young, too judgmental, too lax. It was getting to the point he feared there wasn’t a person alive who could help him or Nala.
Even the therapist had tried to assist with the search, sending over several people for him to talk with about the job. But there’d been no good match. All he wanted was someone kind and caring and truly concerned about the little girl who’d lost so much already, someone who connected with Nala in a way that no one so far had, not even Jed.
He’d tried, God knew he had. Making her dinners, watching movies on Netflix, even buying her a special, limited-edition Harry Potter series box set because he remembered Martin telling him one time it was her favorite. So far, all his efforts had netted him was a greater understanding of Moana than any thirty-six-year-old man should have, and Nala withdrawing even more because she constantly walked around with her nose stuck in a Potter book.
There was one interview left today and if this one didn’t work out, Jed wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He’d talked to a new potential client a few days prior and if things worked out, it could mean he’d have steady hours and income for the foreseeable future. But only if he had the situation with Nala squared away.
“Mr. Tremayne? Are you still there?” the administrator asked. “Hello?”
“Yes. I’m still here,” he said, his flat tone betraying none of the tension roiling inside him. Marvelous. So now he needed not only a nanny, he needed a tutor capable of homeschooling his kid. Jed leaned back slightly to view Nala, still sitting at the table reading. She looked so small and vulnerable it made his chest ache. All alone in the world and so, so young. His battered heart yearned to make things better for her
, and he said a silent prayer for help doing just that. She reminded him of himself as a young boy in so many ways. Granted, his parents were still alive, though he’d not talked to them since the day he’d left to join the Navy. They might as well have been dead for all he cared. For all they’d made him suffer growing up.
Whatever happened, he refused to put Nala through the same tortures he’d faced simply for being different from what others expected. The snooty administrator and her snooty school could both go hang. He and Nala would find their way together, no matter what it took. Jed saw this as a new mission, a new op, and he would not, could not, fail at this. “Fine. Consider Nala no longer a student at Rucks Academy. I’ll find a suitable tutor and homeschool her until we find a better facility for her needs. Your academy is woefully inadequate for a special girl like my Nala. Perhaps you should take a good look at your own values and prejudices before inflicting them on an innocent child. You don’t deserve her as a student, and you could do with a bit more diversity and inclusion at Rucks.”
“Sir, I hope you’re not implying—”
“I’m not implying anything. Goodbye.” He ended the call abruptly.
Feeling an odd mix of vindication and apprehension, Jed slowly walked back into the kitchen.
Nala didn’t look up at him as she spoke softly. “W-was t-that Ms. B-borchelt?”
Jed grabbed a pale ale out of the fridge and twisted off the cap. He wasn’t usually much of a drinker, especially this early in the afternoon, but he needed something to take the edge off, and one ale would hardly do him any harm. At six-two and two-hundred pounds, he could’ve drunk a whole case with minimal side effects. Another skill from the SEALs—he could hold his liquor.
After a few long swallows, he set the bottle aside on the counter and leaned his hips back against the edge of the granite. “How would you feel about taking your classes here for a while?”
The Protective SEAL Page 19
