A SEAL's Courage
Page 1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
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
A Preview of A SEAL's Honor
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by JM Stewart
You Might Also Like…
Newsletter
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by JM Stewart
Excerpt from A SEAL’s Honor copyright © 2017 by JM Stewart
Cover design by Brian Lemus
Cover copyright © 2017 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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ISBN 978-1-5387-2884-0 (print on demand edition)
ISBN 978-1-5387-1173-6 (ebook edition)
This one is for all the men and women in the U.S. military. Thank you for your service and the sacrifices you make every day so that our world stays safe.
Chapter One
“I’m going to be a virgin until I die.” Lauren Hayes let out a world-weary sigh and sank back against the plush leather seats. The club around her pulsed, the throbbing beat and surging bodies lending an upbeat atmosphere Lauren couldn’t get into.
Stephanie Mason, one of her two best friends, peered over the rim of her drink, her straw dangling from the side of her mouth. “You need to give up your perfect-man wish list, babe, and settle for Mr. Right Now, because Mr. Right doesn’t exist.”
Lauren eyed the two women seated across the table from her and sighed. “I know it’s old-fashioned, but I wanted my first time to be with someone who’d actually remember my name in the morning. Not some hookup in a bar.”
Mandy Lawson, best friend number two, shook her head, sending her short dark curls swishing over her shoulder. “I’m afraid, sweets, as the saying goes, if you want to find Prince Charming, you have to kiss a few toads. You’re not going to lose your virginity by being picky.”
Mandy had been her best friend since junior high. They’d met in home ec when their teacher partnered them together for a project. She’d told Lauren long ago she was nuts for making that chastity pact in ninth grade. She and a few of the other girls from church promised to remain virgins until they married. At the time, Lauren had made it with good intentions. When she was ten, her birth mother died in a car accident while driving home from another date with yet another fling. Having a single mother who slept around so much she didn’t even know who Lauren’s father was had left a lasting impression. She’d grown up determined to never, ever, become like her mother.
Lauren waved a hand at Mandy. “Oh, I know, but it’s hard to reconcile my ideas of how true love should be with the desire to lose my virginity as quickly as possible.”
Lauren had strict rules for how she lived her life, things she’d gleaned from her adoptive mother, Mary. Mary had started out her foster mother, eventually adopting her when she was eleven. She’d gotten lucky. Not all kids who ended up in foster care got adopted. Mary had been a deeply religious woman and had old-fashioned ideas, particularly when it came to things like dating and sex. Never make the first move. No kissing on the first date. No drinking or staying out late. Number one on that list? No sex before marriage.
The problem was, Lauren had yet to do much actual living. She had yet to know the gloriousness of sex. Or getting so drunk she woke up the next day not remembering how she’d gotten home. Or hell, the simple pleasure of making out with a guy. Wasn’t most of that normal teenage behavior?
Mary had lived a safe—but boring—life. Her strict rules had kept her from living as much as she could have. She’d devoted herself to the church and to raising Lauren, and had died in her sleep, in her favorite recliner with her knitting in her lap. Mary’s death had hit Lauren hard. And it had taught her one thing: life was short. She wanted to have a little fun before she died. To give up “the rules” and do all those things she’d held back on out of fear of doing the wrong thing. So far she hadn’t done any of that.
She picked up her drink—some fruity concoction with sex in the name, courtesy of Steph—and took a sip before eyeing the girls again. “It’s sad, isn’t it? I’ll be twenty-eight next week, and I’ve never even fallen in love. Infatuation, sure, and something that felt an awful lot like love until I realized it was one-sided.”
Across the table, Stephanie waggled her blond brows. “Just do it, babe. Go dance, rub up against some hottie, and let nature takes its course.”
Oh, she’d tried that. After Mary’s death, she’d jumped into the dating pool, determined to get herself out there. She’d signed up for several of those dating sites and had gone on plenty of dates. The problem was, they never went anywhere. More than a few of the men wanted nothing to do with a virgin. Some had been a little too eager for her tastes. Most, though, had simply never called her back before she’d even gotten around to admitting that she was a virgin.
Lauren shook her head. “I agree it’s time, but that’s not me. Hell, I’d probably trip over my own feet and make a complete dork of myself.”
She was born with the klutz gene. If she didn’t watch the ground when she walked, she tended to trip over stuff. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d run into a pole or another person because she’d been too wrapped up in her thoughts.
“You know…” Mandy, who was a little more down to earth, took a moment to gulp down the last of her beer. She set the bottle on the table and leaned forward to grin at Lauren. “I could always—”
“Oh, no.” Lauren laughed and held up her hands. She didn’t need to ask to know where this was going. Mandy loved playing matchmaker. “No way am I letting you fix me up again. You’re a fabulous wedding designer, sweetie, but your taste in men sucks. There was Jake the octopus, who had eight arms and wouldn’t take no for an answer. And then there was Guy, who talked about himself all night and how wonderful he was. Need I go on?”
Mandy’s bottom lip popped out, but her cheeks flushed bright crimson. “Aw, come on. They weren’t all awful. I know a hot military guy who’d be right up your alley…”
Lauren laughed again and
jabbed a pointed finger at Mandy. “No.”
“Actually…” Mandy looked to her left, flagging down the waitress and signaling for a refill by holding up her empty beer bottle. When the waitress smiled and nodded, Mandy turned back around and leaned her elbows on the table. “There’s a new dating service I just heard of. You remember Jennifer Dillon, from high school?”
Lauren nodded. “Didn’t I see an engagement announcement in the paper last week?”
“Yup. She and her fiancé came into my office the other day for help planning the wedding. In fact, I recommended your bakery for the cake. Ohhh, Laur, you should have seen her fiancé. He’s air force. Tall, broad shouldered, and so polite. Came in dressed in his uniform, all ‘yes, ma’am’ and ‘no, ma’am.’”
Lauren sipped at her drink. “No. I’m not letting you set me up again. I don’t care if he’s got a brother or friends or a million bucks.”
Mandy furrowed her brow, glaring in disapproval. “Will you just listen? While we were talking about her wishes for the ceremony, I asked her where she’d met him. She said they used this service. Military Match. Kind of pricey, but the woman who runs it screens her applicants. So when I went home that night, I checked it out online.” Mandy’s blue eyes gleamed with impishness. “All the men are vets.”
“Oh, I’m definitely in.” Steph nudged Lauren with an elbow. “So are you.”
Lauren couldn’t stop the fierce heat that flooded her cheeks. These ladies knew her too well. Okay, she had to admit it. She had a “thing” for military men. There was something about a guy who willingly put his life on the line for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. The uniform alone could melt her panties.
She sipped at her icy drink in a vain attempt to cool down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mandy laughed. “Right. Don’t think I never noticed the way you’d go all tongue-tied whenever Trent came home on leave.”
Steph turned her head, winking at Lauren. “Or the way you drool when he walks away from you.”
Mandy was the youngest of three. Her brothers were ten years older than her and twins. Trent and Will might look identical, but the two couldn’t be more different. Will was clean-cut. The guy in suits and ties rather than jeans and worn T-shirts. Trent had always been rough around the edges, a quiet guy who preferred to work with his hands.
A Navy SEAL, he’d gotten out of the service and returned home eighteen months ago with scars, some visible, some not. He now worked in a custom motorcycle shop doing detail work. Of the two brothers, Trent was the one who had always made her cream her panties. More to the point, Mandy knew she had a crush on him.
Steph looked over at Mandy. “How he’s doing anyway?”
Mandy shook her head and sighed. “He’s…different. He’s always been quiet, but he crawled into himself after he came home and hasn’t come back out yet.”
Trent had post-traumatic stress disorder. Nightmares. Flashbacks. Coming home, he’d had a hell of a time of it. Mandy was right. He was doing better these days, but he still wasn’t the guy he’d been before his last deployment.
Lauren dropped her gaze, pretending to be absorbed in her drink. “You should sign him up for that dating service. Might do him some good.”
Mandy laughed. “Nope. He won’t let me fix him up, either.” Mandy rose to her feet and came around the table, tugging Lauren out of her seat. “Come on, ladies. Let’s go find us some hotties and shake our tail feathers.”
* * *
The following evening, Lauren pulled open her front door to find Mandy standing on her doorstep. She wore a sheepish grin Lauren had seen too many times over the years. It usually meant trouble.
Lauren folded her arms, narrowing her gaze. “All right. What did you do?”
Mandy’s cheeks blazed bright red, and she took sudden interest in her sneakers. “I signed you up. I signed us all up, actually.”
Lauren’s heart took off on a one-hundred-meter dash. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew what Mandy referenced, but she needed to hear her headstrong best friend own up to it. “Signed us up for what?”
“That dating agency.” Mandy looked up then, flashed a please-don’t-be-mad grin, and clasped her hands together. “Steph’s excited about it…”
Lauren’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, Mandy. How could you do that? You don’t know anything about this woman or this service.”
“Actually, I do.” Mandy stepped over the threshold, grabbed Lauren’s wrist, and after closing the front door, pulled her into the living room. Once there, she took a seat on the sofa and patted the spot beside her. “I know I can be a little…impulsive, but I went to talk to the woman. She won’t let me sign you up officially until you come down to speak to her yourself. Laur, you’d like her. Turns out, Karen’s husband works with Trent at the bike shop. She’s really down to earth and sweet. She’s a great big romantic, but she’s strong minded, like you. She wants her clients to feel comfortable with their experience, whether it lasts or not.”
Lauren dropped onto the sofa beside her. Okay, so she was impressed Mandy hadn’t rushed headlong into this, but she had enough experience with Mandy not to let her off the hook yet. “You should’ve consulted me first.”
Mandy nudged her with an elbow. “Come on. You know you would’ve said no. Besides.” Mandy dropped back against the sofa cushions with a tired sigh. “Jennifer was so happy when she came into my office the other day. I mean glowing. So is Skylar. The expression on her face when she looks at Will? I’ve never seen him so calm or so happy. I want that. One guy who makes me feel feminine and beautiful, who isn’t turned off by the fact that I can take care of myself. Clearly I won’t find it on my own.”
Lauren leaned back and lay her head against Mandy’s. “Me, either.”
Mandy reached for her hand. “So do this with me. Us. Go talk to Karen and decide for yourself. You’re right, you know. You shouldn’t lose your virginity to some jerk you meet in a bar. Or in the back of a Toyota like I did.”
Lauren blew out a heavy breath. “Fine. I’ll talk to Karen, but that’s all I’m promising you for now.”
Mandy was right about one thing: since Mary’s death, she’d been thinking about pushing herself beyond her comfort zone.
Mandy threw her arms around Lauren’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “You won’t regret it, Laur, I promise.”
Lauren laughed softly. “I sincerely hope not.”
* * *
Lying in the darkness of her bedroom, Lauren stared at the shadowy ceiling above her. A glance at the clock told her it was just past nine. She needed to be sleeping. After all, she had to be up at three, so she could be at the bakery by four. But no matter how many times she closed her eyes, sleep wouldn’t come.
All because she’d gone over to see Trent tonight. Steph’s casual mention of him two nights ago had inspired the worry.
For the longest time after he’d come home, Trent’s PTSD had meant he’d barely left his apartment, even to fill his fridge. It’s what had worried his family so much and why she’d taken to going over to see him on a regular basis. She’d wanted to help. A decision to bring him food one night had launched a thousand arguments and a thousand conversations.
Over the last year, he’d become a friend. She’d gone over to check on him one night after work, nine months ago now. Bringing him meals he could keep in the fridge and heat up later had always just been an excuse. She’d expected him to be his usual grumpy self, that he’d glare at her and tell her to leave. It’s what he always did. She’d barge into his apartment—because she’d been instructed not to take no for an answer—and he’d follow her around as she made him a meal or cleaned and complain about her “invading his damn house.”
This particular time, though, he’d actually invited her to stay. Ever since, it had become a tradition. Once or twice a week, she’d take him a meal or two, and he’d invite her to have dinner with him.
So it had been when she’d gone to see hi
m after work today. They’d sat and chatted about their days while chowing down on the lasagna and garlic bread she’d brought over.
Now, hours later, she couldn’t sleep because she couldn’t stop seeing his smile. Being a serious man, he didn’t smile often, but when he did, he was downright magnificent. It transformed his whole face. Harsh, cut features softened, and his cobalt-blue eyes lit up like the sun.
God, she swore she’d gotten over her crush on him in high school. After all, he’d gotten married and had gone overseas, and she’d grown up and moved on. But since he’d come home, those scintillating feelings had begun to sneak up on her again. Except Trent was now divorced. Single. And that solitary fact teased her senses. Her body didn’t seem to care that he tended to treat her like she was another sister. That he didn’t seem to see her as a woman.
No, she always came away from time with him more aroused than she knew what to do with. Trent was every woman’s dream. Polite. Charming. Funny. A hard worker. And it all came in a rock-hard package. God help her, he’d become her naughty little secret.
Even now the addicting rumble of his laugh echoed through her mind, shivering down her spine and landing straight in her panties. He’d teased her about her need to clean whenever she came over. It had started as an excuse to stay, to force him to interact, but had long since become a nervous habit.
Tonight he’d bumped her shoulder and laughed, and that one simple contact lit her body on fire. Because lately she couldn’t help imagining what that hard body of his would feel like pressed against hers.
Giving in to the pull, she closed her eyes and slipped her hand inside her panties. Already hot and wet, a single glide over her swollen clit sent a heated shiver running through her. Her breathing hitched as her mind filled with the now familiar fantasy. Her favorite. The heat of his body against hers. His hot mouth skimming her neck, her shoulder, her ear. Teasing her sensitive skin. He’d slip those wonderfully long, warm fingers into her panties, massage her aching clit.
It was so real, she swore she could feel the hot huff of his breath in her ear. The callouses on the tips of his fingers. All too quickly, the luscious, achy pressure built. Heat prickled along her skin, and her inner muscles began a rhythmic squeezing, tightening and loosening. She rocked her hips into her hand, all the while imagining her fingers were his. Massaging. Circling. Driving her out of her mind with their ability to send her careening toward bliss at breakneck speed.