SEAL's Technique Box Set (A Navy SEAL Romance)

by Claire Adams

  Two EMTs loaded the man into the ambulance, while a third stopped to talk to Quinn. Her face lit up in recognition and I felt a sharp stab of jealousy. I walked over just as he handed her a card.

  "Feel free to call me anytime," the EMT said.

  "Thanks, I will," Quinn said.

  #

  I never knew what people meant when they said someone "glowed" – not until I got back into the car with Quinn. It was hard to concentrate on the cluster of bad Vegas traffic. A bright smile played around her lips and her eyes sparkled at everything without actually seeing it. I worried that was what love looked like. I felt that way when I looked at her sometimes.

  "You're pretty happy for a woman who just saw a serious heart attack," I commented.

  Quinn blinked at my terse tone. "He survived. That is seriously good news. That makes me happy."

  "Okay, but this seems like a different kind of happy," I said. "Does it have anything to do with that cute EMT giving you his card? What did he say? You can call him anytime?"

  "Owen Redd, you realize you sound jealous, right?"

  "You look like if I opened the window you would float right out. So, if you're not happy about the EMT hitting on you, then what is it?"

  "For the record, he did not hit on me," Quinn said. "Well, maybe he flirted, but he was giving me his business card."

  My heart thumped and I realized Quinn had just saved a man's life. She had jumped out of the car before I pulled to a complete stop and ran over to help. Not only that, but she had revived him and kept him alive until help arrived. It was amazing.

  "You know, that's not such a bad idea," I said.

  "What's not a bad idea? Helping a man having a heart attack?"

  "Yes, but I mean working as an EMT. You have some background with the nursing classes you already took and you clearly have a talent for it. It’s something you really should consider, Quinn," I said.

  She crossed her arms tightly. "Well, aren't you just full of career advice," she said.

  "Come on, I'm just trying to help. I mean, you've quit college and are searching for something to do. You should at least think about it."

  "Think about it? As if I'm not thinking about my own future? As if I'm just waiting around for someone to tell me what to do?"

  I could not believe what a detour our conversation had taken. I dug my fingernails into the steering wheel and kept going. "You're back living with your parents, and I know that's not where you really want to be, no matter how great they are being. It was just a good idea."

  "Naturally, it’s a good idea because you came up with it," she said. "There's no way I could ever look at my own life and make my own decision, is there? That would just be crazy."

  "Whoa, this conversation is what is crazy," I said.

  Quinn stopped talking to me.

  I drove into the parking ramp behind Caesar's Palace and started circling the levels for a parking space. Her glow was gone and, in its place, her chin was rigid. By the fourth level, I realized I had not even asked her what she had in mind. Her father had said she was studying for something, but I had forgotten to ask.

  "Quinn, I'm sorry. I was just making an observation. You were amazing out there and you probably saved that man's life. Could you ever see yourself doing that for a living?" I asked.

  She softened as we finally found a parking spot and I turned the car off. "I'm sorry too. I'm just sick and tired of people making decisions for me. And this is a huge decision, one that I'm really proud of, so I want to make sure that it is all mine."

  I said a quick prayer that she was not leaving to go abroad and then asked, "So, when do I get to hear all about it?"

  Quinn laughed. "Well, I'm annoyed because you already pretty much guessed it. I've been taking my EMT training course. I'm ready to take the certification soon. That EMT gave me his card so I would know a good company to sign up with once I got my certification."

  I leaned my head against the steering wheel and just barely missed the horn. "As if I didn't feel like a jealous idiot before," I said. "Here I am giving you sage advice about a career you are already pursuing. Is this what life is going to be like from now on? You always one step ahead of me?"

  "First one to the room wins?" Quinn asked. She jumped out of the car.

  I caught her by the trunk and pulled her into a swift kiss. "That is for saving a man's life, and this is for making my life extraordinary."

  "What, no kiss for saving you from jail?"

  "Sure, but I don't think your father and I are on kissing terms quite yet," I said.

  She laughed and pulled out her rolling suitcase. "Wait, before we go in, what did you want to talk to me about?"

  "What?" I was suddenly very careful about checking the zippers on my luggage.

  "In the car, before I made you stop. You were saying something and it sounded kind of important. What did you want to talk about?" Quinn asked.

  "Oh," I said. "I just wanted to know if you want to join me for the competitor’s cocktail hour later on. I know you said you changed to the fun tournament, but you can come as my date."

  "I'd love to!"

  I followed her light stride into Caesar's Palace and into the opulent lobby. I could not spare the marble statues a single look. All I could think about was Quinn. It was crazy, but she still did not know how much I loved her. I had almost proposed in the car, but she still smiled at me the same as she always had.

  It was a relief when my clan members materialized out of the crowd near the registration counter. "Did you hear?" Artemis asked.

  Alan shook his head. "Of course he didn't hear. He's been a little busy."

  "Oh, then let me, please?" Tony asked.

  Milan pushed him aside. "No, this is just too good. I'll tell him."

  "Tell me what?" I asked.

  "Anya has been barred from playing," Artemis, Tony, and Milan said together.

  I turned to Alan. "What are they talking about?" I asked.

  "Turns out the Green Witch Ayaan is known for more than just her shady plays against our girl Arrowa, here," Alan said. "She was cited by the tournament organizers as 'play that does not befit the tournament spirit.'"

  "She went on a tirade about the freedom that Dark Flag permits and how that is the whole point of the game," Artemis said. "Really, it just turned into a wicked witch monologue. Ended up sounding like some serious jealousy."

  "She railed against you as limiting the game's potential with your moralistic overtones and clan hierarchy," Alan said. "Some people agree with her, but the major consensus is that Dark Flag has turned out to be a mirror for what we wish society to become, not the way we fear it is heading."

  "Don't worry," Milan said. He patted my cheek. "You came out looking like a hero."

  "Still," I said. "I hope it’s enough to offset the whole police arrest thing." The night flashed through my memory again and I reached for Quinn's hand. All I cared about is that she forgave me and we could move past it.

  Quinn squeezed my hand. "It’s a great story now," she said. "The hero betrayed by someone close to him, tricked by a beautiful but underhanded rival, and finally cleared of all wrongdoing."

  "By a true savior," I said. I pulled Quinn close to me and kissed her on the lips.

  "Well, it’s about time," Milan said.

  "Oh, I'm so glad! Didn't I tell you, Alan? I told you," Artemis said. She elbowed Alan sharply in the ribs.

  "I know, I know," Alan said. "I mentioned the whole jealousy thing. It’s not like Anya was the only one that noticed how Owen looked at her."

  Quinn buried her face in my chest. "Her?" she asked. "I'm standing right here."

  "Yes, you are," I said. "Clan, I think it is about time I introduce you to my girlfriend, Quinn Thomas."

  Their good-natured jokes and comments faded. The whole gold spectacle of the Caesar's Palace lobby faded, too. For a moment, there was just Quinn and I.

  I held my breath. I should have discussed it with her before, but it just see
med right. I hoped it was right. I hoped for more, but this was the first step and I did not want to stumble over it.

  "I'll just go get my room key," Quinn said. She waved to everyone and went off to the counter.

  I played it casual and chatted with the other players for a few more minutes and then caught up with Quinn as she headed for the elevators. Somehow, in the immense hotel full of people, we managed to get an elevator all to ourselves.

  "Too much?" I asked. "I know we didn't talk about it, but now at least you know how I feel."

  Quinn shook her head. "Owen, this is a big tournament for you, and the last thing I want to do is get in your way. Whatever we are does not have to be part of your public image. I know you fought hard to get where you are and I don't want to cause any controversy for you."

  I dropped my bag and took both her hands. "That's all in the past. And now that you are moving on with your career and Dark Flag as your hobby, there is no reason why I can't tell everyone who you are and what you mean to me."

  Quinn went still, her hands warm in mine. "What do I mean to you?"

  I had to kiss her three times before the words would come. "Everything," I said. "Quinn, I love you."

  The look in her chocolate brown eyes melted all my fears. Quinn reached up on tiptoe and kissed me again. "And I love you."

  I had just wrapped my arms tightly around her waist to delve deeper into the kiss when the elevator doors opened.

  "There you are!" a voice called.

  Mr. And Mrs. Thomas appeared. "We were just knocking on your door. I thought you would have checked in by now. Don't you have a game to be getting ready for?" Mrs. Thomas asked.

  "We don't really know how these things work, but we read the schedule," Mr. Thomas said. He shook my hand. "Seems like you're top billing on a lot of the events."

  "See, I told you he was a professional gamer," Quinn said.

  "Quinn told me the story about you and the little white chapel," I said. The words just jumped out and I could not take them back.

  Mrs. Thomas laughed. "Oh, it was so romantic. Mostly because it took all the pressure off the big to-do we had planned. It would have killed my family not to have had the big white wedding, so it was fun to run off on our own right before."

  Quinn took my hand and squeezed hard. "I always thought it was romantic, too. I mean, you two had planned that big wedding for months and months. You really knew what you wanted."

  I took a deep breath. Quinn was right. I knew what I wanted and there was no reason to rush it. We were together, our hands linked, and her parents smiling at us.

  "So, I did a little check up on your playing, and it appears there are lots of bets to be made," Mr. Thomas said. "Better get down to the book before you get started."

  "Betting against me?" I asked.

  "No," Mr. Thomas said, "I always bet on family."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  I focused on the wine-colored carpet to keep my eyes from tearing up. The bouquet of white roses was fragrant and heavy in my hands, and I turned to study the petals as the pastor began talking.

  "No matter what family, friends, or life has planned for you, there is nothing like letting love make the decision. It just feels right," he said. "Sure, some people call it spur of the moment and some people say that only fools rush in, but when I see two people as in love as you are, I know there is no room for doubt."

  I heard my mother sniffle and I finally looked up. She was stunning in the white satin dress we had found in a small boutique inside the Venetian. My father wore a dove gray suit and a smile so bright he looked like a new man.

  "Of course, a few decades of successful marriage and grown children also help to remove doubt," the pastor said. My parents laughed.

  Owen laughed too. He stood next to my father as his best man. As my parents began to renew their vows, he winked at me and my heart soared.

  Earlier, my father had joked that Owen was funding their second Vegas wedding. It had been two years since my father won a cool 3,000 dollars betting on Owen in the Dark Flag tournament. Since then, "bet on family" had become our family motto.

  We threw rice as my parents walked arm in arm down the aisle. They disappeared to have their photographs taken outside. I moved to follow, but Owen grabbed my arm.

  "I know you have this whole big backyard white wedding plan," Owen said, "and I love it, but we could always just get married now. I mean, you haven't even set a date yet. The way you've been working, I'm going to have to marry you on the side of the road or in the back of an ambulance."

  "March," I said. "Just after your birthday. How does that sound?"

  Owen kissed me, and I could feel his warm smile against my lips.

  "Where are our witnesses?" my father called. He smiled broadly as we jumped apart. "Come on, now, you aren't thinking about following in our footsteps, are you? I thought you were much more independent than that."

  "Oh, she is, believe me," Owen said.

  We joined my parents outside. Traffic driving by honked congratulations as my parents posed under the sign. Finally, we raised plastic champagne flutes in a toast.

  "To family – those lost, found, and forgiven," my father said.

  "And to a happy future, together," I said, finally feeling whole and happy in the hot Vegas sunshine.

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  BAD PROFESSOR

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams

  Chapter One

  Clarity

  I heard my heels clicking fast across the foyer floor. The next song came over the living room speakers, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Addictive rhythms ran through the crowd and grabbed hold of both faculty and students. Other than the occasional tapping toe and slight bounce of the head, it was hard to see, but the party hit the right tone.

  Maybe ‘party’ wasn't the right word. There was plaid tweed, too many khakis, and a wide array of sweaters. It was definitely an official Landsman College sanctioned gathering. The Dean of Students tried every year to introduce the Honor Council nominees to the faculty in a fun way. This year, fueled by a joke list of movies he was told to watch over the summer, Dean Dunkirk had announced a house party.

  Students snuck beers or spiked lemonades in the prerequisite red plastic cups, while faculty drank aged wine or fine spirits out of the same style cup. The music was a mash-up of classic acoustic guitar rock and toned-down student favorites. I had even moved some of the furniture aside and made hang-out spots with over-sized throw pillows. Ping pong was a big draw on the back, three-season porch. Mason jars of tea lights added a simple elegance, and the food was easy, grill-inspired finger foods.

  Everything was perfect, and I searched for something to do. I imagined being a full-blown journalist and swept the collegiate crowd again in search of headlines. As I smiled and mingled, I wrote leads in my head.

  Cut from the same cloth, student and coach wore the same sweater.

  Endless summer, English professor returns from California vacation and continues her taste for Napa wines.

  "Is that her bored smile?" Jasmine asked the petite girl beside her.

  "I can't tell; I think it's pasted on." Lexi's short brown curls bounced as she tipped her head, studied Clarity, and flipped to the other side.

  "Very funny. Where have you two been?" I asked my best friends.

  "A little pre-party with some football players." Jasmine's tall, willowy figure shuddered with delight. "Looks like it's going to be a good season."

  I couldn't fault my
friends, but I focused on the house party. "You were supposed to be here helping me."

  Jasmine tossed her blonde hair. "Like you needed us. Everyone's having an honorably great time. More importantly, have you decided what you're doing for Thanksgiving break? I vote we stay on campus and enjoy some of the real parties. No offense, Clarity."

  I laughed, "None taken. I'm sticking around for break so I can get a head start on some of my journalism classes. Intermediate News Reporting is going to be a big step up."

  Lexi rolled on her tip toes to nudge Jasmine in the ribs. "We heard the one to look forward to is Multi-Media Production and Storytelling."

  "Oh yeah," Jasmine's eyes sparkled. "The, uh, syllabus looks really, really good."

  "Maybe that's why she's going to stay on campus with us during break," Lexi said. "You know, so she can attend her professor's office hours."

  "Are you saying the professor is supposed to be hot?" I asked. "You know that little fantasy doesn't work for me. The Dean of Students is my father, remember?"

  "All we're saying is take some good notes for us. We want to hear every detail," Jasmine grinned.

  I rolled my eyes. "We're past junior high, right? Last time I checked, we were juniors in college."

  Lexi collapsed against my arm and giggled harder. "Hey, we can't all be fulfilled by careers alone."

  "Speaking of fulfillment, you should have seen the new quarterback," Jasmine said.

  I sighed as I saw a guest empty a wine bottle. "Look, I've got to go restock the bar. Are you going to stick around for a while? Please?"

  "Ooh, she wants to hear about the quarterback," Lexi winked. "I guess we can stick around for a while."

  "You have to, Lex; you're nominated for Honor Council," I reminded her.

  "Oh, shit, that's right."

  Jasmine dropped to the sofa in a new fit of giggles and dragged Lexi down with her. I took a quick spin through the dining room to see if anyone needed anything. Conversations were relaxed, red plastic cups were full, the silver trays of food were still over half full, and everyone was engaged.