Her Firefighter SEAL

by Anne Marsh

  He stroked a finger over the crinkles in her forehead. “Let us help you. Let me help you,” he said quietly. “Not because you can’t do it yourself, but because sometimes other people need to do something too.”

  She sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  He actually thought about it for a moment. A really brief moment. “Nope.”

  “I can take care of myself.” She met his gaze head-on.

  “I know that.” He’d never doubted for a minute that Abbie knew how to stand on her own two feet. He’d been part of a team though, both as a SEAL and as a sometime smoke jumper. Having good people at your back didn’t make you weaker.

  She held up a finger. “When the peanut makes his or her appearance, under no circumstances does the hotshot team show up in the birthing room.”

  He looked at her. “Got it.”

  She looked at the house, and he got the feeling she saw way more than four walls and a roof. Her gaze slid back to him. “All right.”

  “All right?” He was so shocked, he didn’t know what to say. She was agreeing with him? Hallelujah and mark the day on the calendar, because apparently it was also a day for firsts.

  She narrowed her eyes. “If you fist pump, yell, or make any other audible sign of triumph, I’ll kill you. Just so we’re clear.”

  He bet. “Say it one more time?”

  She elbowed him. “Yes. I’ll move into my new house.”

  “This week.” He wouldn’t put it past her to have mentally added in two decades or when hell froze over. “Say that too.”

  Her mouth curved up in a grin. “As soon as I can give notice on the old place and pack my stuff.”

  He could work with that. He had two stacks of brand-new moving boxes just waiting for her go-ahead. Between the hotshots and the smoke jumpers, they could have a crew of twelve—all with trucks—ready to go at a moment’s notice unless all of Northern California burst into flames. She’d be packed up and out here without lifting a finger in days.

  He eyed the dirt road and the ponderosa pines crowding the edge of her new yard. She’d be out here alone. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  She muttered something under her breath, then repeated it. Loudly. “You’re the one who wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed.”

  “Yeah, but... now that I think about it...”

  “What?” She propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What do you think could possibly happen to me out here?”

  “I have a list,” he said. “Fire. Bear. Creepy stranger. Rattlesnake. Gopher hole. Flooded river. Falling branch.”

  “Shut up.” She slapped her hand over his mouth. “How does your gloom and doom help me here? Just tell me where you want me.”

  In his bed. And... in other places. Fuck. When had looking after Abbie turned into something more? “You need someone to stay with you, and I’m not talking about the peanut.”

  She narrowed her eyes. If she could read his mind, he was in so much trouble. “Are you angling for a sleepover? Because you could try just asking. Or showing up.”

  He’d ask all right. On the other side of the truck, Rio started laughing. He cut to the chase, leaning against the truck bed beside her. “Do we have a move-in date?”

  He turned his head and looked at Abbie. She was smiling, so she wasn’t pissed. The warm look in her eyes had him smoothing back an errant strand of her hair that had escaped from her braid. He’d bet he could have that braid undone in one, maybe two, gentle tugs. Slide the elastic off the end, run his hands through all that pretty brown hair so she looked mussed up and fresh out of bed. And... she was talking, and he had zero idea of what she’d just said.

  “Kade?” She sighed, exasperated. Behind him, Rio laughed harder.

  “You’ve got to cut him some slack, Abbie. The man doesn’t know if he’s coming or going.”

  “Coming,” she sighed. “Apparently, he’s coming over when you all move me in this weekend.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Katie made a gorgeous bride. Not that there had ever been any doubt, but now it was official. The winery where she’d chosen to hold her wedding to Tye was the perfect frame, gorgeous grape vines and sunflowers everywhere Abbie looked. Heirloom roses filled the garden beds, and there were even more smiles and laughter. A few happy tears, too.

  Abbie hugged her friend. “Be happy.”

  “I am.” Katie’s glowing face beamed back at her, like she couldn’t wait to run up that aisle and meet her SEAL. She knew how Katie felt. She’d rushed to meet Will from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. They’d gotten married in Central Park in the Conservatory Garden, a sea of pink and white flowers in every photo. It had been beautiful, and she’d thought then that it would last forever. Who knew forever would mean just a handful of years?

  “We’ve got good guys waiting for us.” Katie winked. “Now let go and start walking.”

  Right. The wedding. Abbie let go and started up the aisle toward the two men waiting with the minister beneath an enormous rose bower framing a small pond. Strands of music floated through the air as someone hit Play on the iPod Katie had decreed would be the music master. Tye had served with Kade in Afghanistan, and he’d pressed Kade into service as his best man. Tye was a good-looking, rugged man who took shit from no one and had kicked ass as a SEAL, which made the goofy grin on his face even sweeter. He peered around Abbie and the other bridesmaids as they walked up the aisle, trying to spot Katie. As if he wasn’t going to have her to himself for the next forty years or so.

  “You’re lucky,” she mouthed at him, and he grinned back at her as he elbowed the man standing next to him. Kade. The guests sighed, a happy oh-look-at-her hum of approval, which meant Katie had started down the aisle. Tye stared at Katie like he’d just seen heaven, but Kade was staring at Abbie with the same hot, hungry look as she approached.

  The way the man looked in a tux should be illegal. Tall, dark, and slightly scruffy because he sported five o’clock shadow by noon, Kade looked relaxed, but there was no missing the power leashed in his big body. If something bad happened, if he was needed, he’d be ready to spring into action, bad knee or no. He smiled when she reached the front, a panty-melting, heart-stopping grin.

  He held out a hand to her, and she took it because what else could she do? She let him tug her gently to his side, her chiffon skirts brushing his knees as they turned to watch Tye take Katie’s hand. Twenty minutes later, Katie was Mrs. Callahan—or Tye was now Mr. Lawson—and the groom had swept his bride off her feet in a hot kiss that had the entire assembly whooping and hollering. Since the reception was being held in the winery’s wine cave, it was a matter of just a few short steps to get the party started. They shared toasts, ate way too much food, and then the dancing started.

  “You okay?” Kade’s low rumble in Abbie’s ear startled her. The man moved like a ninja.

  “I’m putting a bell around your neck,” she groused.

  “She’s fine.” Laura Jo kicked off her heels with a groan as she sank into a seat beside Abbie. “At least she got to wear flats. Katie thought the rest of us should trip around in the Mount Everest of heels.”

  Since Katie designed and sold the most amazing shoes, it wasn’t precisely a hardship. Abbie looked down at her own practical shoes. At least she could still see her feet, a task that got harder by the day. The flats were kind of cute. Cute, but practical. She thought about swapping with Laura Jo for just a few minutes, because sometimes she was tired of being practical.

  “Not her feet.” Kade gave Laura Jo a look. “About being at someone else’s wedding.”

  Laura Jo eyed him suspiciously. “Did you turn into a girl while I wasn’t looking? Because that sounds suspiciously thoughtful. Emotional. Whatever.” She gestured with her empty champagne flute.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being thoughtful.” Now he sounded grumpy. That was familiar territory.

  “Uh-huh.” Laura Jo snagged Kade’s champagne and empti
ed the glass.

  “Right here,” Abbie said.

  “So tell him.” Laura Jo pointed the flute at Abbie. “Tell him you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay.”

  She was. She digested this for a moment while Laura Jo waved down a waiter and scored champagne refills. Kade drifted away to say good-bye to Tye who was tugging his bride toward the door. And she... sat there. Thinking deep thoughts at a wedding.

  “Which one would you pick if you were me?” Apparently determined to make Abbie focus on the present, Laura Jo waved toward the group of guys slapping Tye on the back slightly harder than necessary. Hard-eyed, scarred, and generally banged up, the men radiated power, clearly ready to protect the wedding party from an Al-Qaeda attack or any other shit storm life tossed in their direction. It wasn’t a bad look for them, nor was the goofy-ass grin on Tye’s face whenever he looked at Katie. She and Will had been that happy and naïve, even if it felt like a once upon a time and long, long ago.

  Focus on this wedding. “You want to date a SEAL?”

  Laura Jo’s dating life was either epic or nonexistent, depending on who you asked. The other woman had a million colorful stories, but she’d also sworn off dating the local guys because—she’d told Abbie and Katie on one memorable occasion—once you’d seen a guy’s penis, it complicated the workday.

  “Date him? No.” Laura Jo grinned, and boy... Abbie figured someone should give Tye’s friends a heads-up, because that look was one hundred percent pure mischief. “I just want to fuck one. I’m feeling horny, not romantic.”

  Oookay. That made two of them. She pointed to the guy to the left of Tye. “How about him?”

  “Pretty.” Laura Jo squinted, examining the poor guy like he was the last bachelor on the auction block. “No. Wait. I think I know him. He jumps with Donovan Brothers, so he’s off-limits. Damn it. Here I am, ready to get laid, and there’s not one new guy at this wedding. You think there’s someone out there for us?”

  “Say what?” Color her distracted by the red-hot blush on Katie’s face, but she was pretty certain that the guys were giving Tye a hard time. Or possibly sex tips.

  Laura Jo set her glass down on the table. “Do we get happily ever afters too, or are we too screwed up? Did we blow our chances?”

  She had no idea why Laura Jo wanted to have a heart-to-heart at Katie’s wedding, although her vote was for too much champagne. “I already had mine.”

  “No.” Laura Jo pulled her hair free of its sleek ponytail. “You told me yourself that you and Will were a mistake. Maybe”—she held up a hand—“the two of you were a good kind of mistake. He was a decent guy, and you did your best. I think you could have been happy, and the peanut you’re incubating would have had the best mom and dad in the world. But now Will’s gone, and you’ve got a second chance at happily ever after.”

  “Is that what you want?” Because, honestly, she’d never imagined Laura Jo as the settling-down type.

  “Maybe.” Laura Jo grinned. “Although tonight I’m settling for sex. God, those SEALs are gorgeous. It’s like picking chocolates out of a box. I just want to lick them all.”

  “Lick carefully.” Abbie stood up, pushing back her chair. “Come on. We may not be getting laid, but we can dance.”

  Katie had shit taste in music. Or maybe it was Tye’s fault that the DJ played one country track after another. The dance floor scene was chaotic and loud, full of firefighters doing the bump and grind when only a small number of them actually possessed a sense of rhythm. A very small number.

  She grabbed Kade, lacing her fingers through his. “Dance with me.”

  “You got it.” He let her tow him out onto the dance floor. “But since you’re the one who was the professional dancer, prepare to lower your standards.”

  The music was a happy, rollicking country song with crazy-mad lovers, too much alcohol, and at least two horses and a pickup truck. Honestly, Abbie didn’t care, because the beat and the words were simply an excuse to get close to Kade in public. He settled his big hand on the small of her back and steered her closer to him. He hadn’t been kidding about his lack of dance moves, but the floor was crowded in the best way, with everyone bumping butts and hips in a happy, chaotic mess. The next song was slightly faster, but then they were back to sad cowboys and lonely lovers.

  She let Kade twirl her in a long, slow circle. “You think Katie listened to the words before she let the DJ play these?”

  Kade’s smile lit up the dance floor. “Not too cheerful, are they?”

  “They look so happy together.” To her horror, tears pricked her eyelids. Bad Abbie. Weddings were happy.

  “Yep.” He pulled her closer, and she wondered if he’d noticed the near waterworks. Kade didn’t miss much.

  Change the subject. “They’re going to Paris for the honeymoon.”

  He winced. “I think that’s my fault. I should probably write Tye a check.”

  Kade was cute when he was embarrassed. He could be ninety, but as long as he still lived in Strong, no one would let him live that legendary bucket list down. Abbie would bet Tye had a bucket list of his own now—and the new couple would be working through the items in the coming two weeks.

  “Climb a mountain. Learn to speak French. Own an island. Gamble in Vegas.” She ticked the items off on her fingers. “You’re going to be a busy boy—and you’re going to need some cash. I’m not sure if you were planning the real estate acquisition before or after your conquest of Sin City.”

  He groaned. “Does the whole town know about that list?”

  She tilted her head back as he twirled in her in another long, slow circle. The twinkle lights strung over the tent’s ceiling blurred. If it wasn’t magical, it was darn close. “I memorized it,” she said cheerfully.

  “Do you know how many people have come up and asked me about that list? Faye and Gia Donovan mention it at least once a week. Mimi asks for a status update every time I step foot in Ma’s bar.”

  “Those are all women.”

  He gave her a look. “The guys just give me a shit. I think those three actually want details and an action plan.”

  She grinned up at him. “You remember that Katie had us working through the list with her, right?”

  The naughty twinkle in his eyes should have warned her. “I definitely remember. I also offered to check off the ménage a trois part with your help.”

  God. She slapped a hand over his mouth. “The minister is right there.”

  Rather than shut up, Kade danced her in the opposite direction. “I’m sure he’s had sex before with Mrs. Minister.”

  “I don’t want to think about it.” The minister who had married Katie and Tye was long past middle-aged. Rotund and balding, he was a great guy, but there was no way on God’s green earth that she wanted to imagine him naked.

  “Chicken.” The smile Kade gave her was wickedly sweet.

  “Your list wasn’t all about sex. You wanted to blow stuff up, too.”

  “Yeah, but I already covered that. Uncle Sam made sure I could check flying helicopters, firing machine guns, and climbing a mountain off that damned list.”

  Kade danced her around a couple of smoke jumpers. Joey had Mercy planted in the middle of the dance floor, his hands glued to her hips as the two of them swayed in place with zero regard for the song’s up-tempo beat. They made a cute pair, and she’d bet she was looking at her next wedding invitation.

  God. Was that his mouth brushing her hair? It had been too long since she’d danced like this.

  “Did you ever learn French?” She blurted out because she couldn’t help but wonder how many lovers he’d made happy with his French over the years. Not that he’d been hers—she’d cut him free in high school—but apparently she didn’t like the idea of sharing him. He was gorgeous, and he was nice. If occasionally he opened his mouth and proved that he was still bossy as hell and way too fond of giving orders, well, kissing shut him up just fine. She’d bet she wasn’t the only woman to discov
er Kade’s weakness in that regard.

  He grinned. “Have you heard my French?”

  “Why Mr. Jordan, you’ve been holding out on me.”

  “Not anymore,” he said, and she suddenly wasn’t sure he was talking about French. “Frère Jacques,” he intoned, pulling her close.

  He was so big, and she felt so safe, as if life’s more sucktastic moments couldn’t possibly reach her in his arms. Her head knew that was an illusion, but her heart insisted it was a good one. Kade was only one man—and he wasn’t Superman. She really should remember that.

  But the shiver that started at the top of her spine and headed south suggested other things she could be doing. Remembering. Kade was a dirty, inventive, talented lover, and his mouth moving over her ear was one good reason to let him hold her just a little bit longer. Focus. He’s reciting a dirty French poem to you, and when will that ever happen again?

  “Frère Jacques,” he whispered roughly, urgently against her skin. God, he had a husky bedroom voice, the liquid syllables spilling out of his mouth with a perfect French accent. Except...

  “Dormez-vous?”

  She felt rather than saw the smile as he pressed a kiss against her throat. He was... singing her a children’s lullaby? Oh, God. His tongue traced the sensitive whorl of her ear, and pig Latin would have been fine with her, as long he kept doing that.

  “That’s not French, not really,” she protested breathlessly a long moment later when he twirled her in a lazy circle.

  “Sonnez les matines,” he growled, nipping her ear lobe.

  Oh. “That’s your secret French weapon?” Because he’d better not have picked a kid’s song for her because she was pregnant.

  He put an inch or two of space between them, running his hands up and down her back as he examined her face. “Did it work?”

  Pleading the Fifth here. “You memorize a poem in French, the language of lovers, and that’s the one you pick?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  ~*~

  Abbie shook her head, and Kade just knew that she wasn’t done with him. Sure, she might not like to talk about her own feelings, but she definitely liked to examine his. If he couldn’t figure himself out, he didn’t think she had a chance, but it was cute watching her try.