Moving her legs slowly so that they lay between his, Bay smiled distantly, lost in the lusty haze of his scent, his sweaty body, his puncturing breath against her neck and shoulder. This is what she’d waited for. This is what fulfilled her, made her feel whole, cherished and one with Gabe. Nothing else would ever do. Not ever, and Bay ranged her hand across his chest, to his jaw, cupping his stubbled cheek, looking sleepily into his half-closed eyes that burned with fierce love for her.
Wordlessly, she stretched those few inches, capturing his chiseled mouth, so strong and caring, beneath her wet, pouty lips. And then she gently moved her hips, feeling him tense, his groan rolling up through his chest, music to her ears and wildly pounding heart. Cherishing his mouth, feeling his surrender in every possible way to her, Bay understood her strength as a woman. It was matchless. And his male strength complemented her, supported her and had filled her. She smiled against his mouth, pressing a small kiss to each corner of it.
“We did it,” she whispered against him. Bay sensed his very male smile beneath her lips. Gabe’s hands ranged over her shoulders, cupping them as he opened his eyes, drinking in her wild, tousled beauty.
“We did,” Gabe agreed, his voice barely above a growl. “You’re one brave warrior woman. You know that?”
Bay held his gleaming eyes and saw her reflected in their depths. “A warrior like you deserves a woman of equal strength. Don’t you think?”
As he trailed his fingers down her long, curved spine, her flesh damp and velvety feeling, a corner of his mouth hitched upward. Gabe was so damn weak, so sated and satisfied that he could barely think or move. “Baby, you’re incredible. You take my body, you take my heart and I’m just clay in your beautiful, healing hands.”
“Mmm,” Bay murmured, her brow resting against his sandpapery jaw. “You took me to places I’ve never been before, Gabe. I’m floating. I’m happy…thank you….” She grazed his broad shoulder, feeling the muscles leap and respond beneath her lips.
“Merry Christmas,” he rasped.
Bay closed her eyes, smiling with him. “You’re the only gift I’ll ever need, Gabe.” And that was true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Six months later
“CAN YOU FEEL them moving?” Bay asked softly, lying down on the couch, her feet propped up. She watched as Gabe knelt down beside her, gently placing his large hand across her swollen belly. His hard face melted as he felt the first baby kicking on the left side of her belly.
“Gotta be the boy,” he murmured with a grin, catching her shining blue eyes.
“Very good,” she praised, picking up his hand and sliding it to the right side. “Feel her?”
He nodded, completely mesmerized that two little souls were being carried in the belly of the woman he loved. It was a miracle. Gabe held her moist eyes. Six months pregnant with twins, as Bay had told him, had turned her into a total hormonal sop. He leaned over, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “Happy tears, baby?”
“Very happy.” Bay sniffed, catching his hand, turning it over and placing a kiss in his calloused palm.
“You’re feeling okay, though?” Gabe asked, unwinding from his crouched position and sitting on the end of the couch. He took off her tennis shoes, removed her socks and gently began to knead her foot he rested across his thigh.
Bay moaned and relaxed against the pillow. “That feels so wonderful, Gabe. You spoil me rotten.” Her mouth tipped into a tender smile. “And yes, I’m fine, considering I feel like a two-ton elephant.”
“Your ankles are swollen,” he said, frowning. Dr. Sarah Johnson, Bay’s baby doctor from Dunmore, had sat down with both of them many months ago to get their heads around having twins. Swollen ankles were always expected.
He looked up, seeing the pleasure spread across Bay’s radiant face as he moved his fingers upward to include her slender ankles. She’d told him two months after they were married that she was pregnant. Both agreed it had happened Christmas night when they’d made love for the first time. The luminosity in Bay’s face simply made her that much more beautiful in Gabe’s eyes. A madonna.
“It’s okay. Swollen ankles are normal,” Bay said, enjoying his knowing fingers wreaking magic across her tired, aching feet. June was a month of weeding the garden that she and her mama had planted in May. Bay discovered getting down on her hands and knees between rows to weed was becoming an acrobatic act and feat in itself. Her once strong, lean body was now awkward, and her center of gravity had markedly shifted. Bay opened her eyes, watching Gabe concentrate on her other foot.
“Is Mike Tarik arriving today? Noon, right?” He was Gabe’s best friend who was a SEAL. In some ways, Bay guessed from what Gabe had shared with her, Mike was like the brother he never had while growing up. And she didn’t know until recently, it had been Mike who had watched over her like a guard dog, relieving Gabe when she was unconscious at the Bagram hospital. She wanted to thank him in person for what he’d done for them.
Gabe glanced down at his Rolex. “Yeah, he should be arriving soon.”
“I don’t know. This is a hard place to find.”
“He’s a SEAL, baby. He’ll find us, guaranteed.” Gabe chuckled.
He talked at least once a week to Mike by cell phone. She was anxious to meet him because Gabe thought so highly of him. Bay moved her hand lovingly across her swollen belly.
“We need names for our babies, Gabe.” They’d both avoided naming them at first, for fear if anything happened. Dr. Sarah had given her a clean bill of health, much to her relief.
Gabe’s hands stilled over her feet.
Bay gave him a frustrated look. “No, really. We have to have names, Gabe. I’m six months along.”
“I guess it’s time?” He slid his hand across the curve of her soft sole and heard Bay groan with appreciation. “Do you have names?”
“I think I do, but I want your input.”
Gabe moved his fingers, massaging the area between each of her small, perfect toes. Bay sighed, closed her eyes and said, “I was thinking about our boy.” He looked up and studied Bay.
“Yes?”
“I was thinking, I want him to have my Pa’s name, Floyd. I don’t care if it’s his middle name or first name.”
Gabe knew how close she’d been to her father. He shrugged his shoulders. “That sounds fine to me.”
“Usually, we try and name our children after a family member, Gabe. Is there someone in your family you’d like our son to carry his name?”
Gabe frowned and became pensive. “No, no one.” Gabe didn’t want the stain of his family on his children. Floyd Thorn had been a fine man, a good father to Bay and Eva-Jo, and a responsible husband to Poppy. He wanted his son to have good, strong, honorable men’s names to carry. To aspire to becoming himself. He halted his massaging of her foot, his hands still. “Would you consider giving our son the first name of Michael?”
She heard his hesitancy, his expression unsure. Moistening her lips, she asked softly, “After Mike Tarik? Your SEAL brother?”
“Yes. I want our son to carry good men’s names, Bay. I want to be able to tell my son about these men, how heroic they are or were, that they stood for honesty, courage and honor.”
Hearing his deeply hidden emotions in his tone, she whispered, “Michael Floyd Griffin. Do you like the sound of it?” Gabe’s face colored, and she saw him become suddenly emotional.
“Yes, I like the sound of it. Are you okay with it? You’re the one who’s going to be calling him Floyd when he’s in trouble and Michael when he’s our sweet little warrior angel.”
Bay laughed and rolled her eyes. “I see you have this all figured out, Griffin.”
Giving her a shrug, Gabe’s mouth pulled into a teasing grin. “Hey, you’ll be seeing a lot more of them than I will during the day.”
Well, that was the truth. “You’ll get your turn when you come home at night,” she warned him with a chuckle. Gabe had opened up a small wood shop in Dunmore, creating bea
utiful carvings with those large hands of his. Already, his name was spreading in the arts and crafts community. Dunmore was a tourist town, one of the gateways into the Allegheny Mountains. He’d already sold four of his five sculptures. And they hadn’t been cheaply priced, either. Gabe valued his work. They were both surprised but grateful for the inflow of money. The condo building he owned in Coronado was the mainstay of their income and allowed him to build his carving business.
“I’m looking forward to it, baby.” And he was. Gabe wanted to be a loving father to his son and daughter. And he especially wanted to teach his son to respect women, not use or abuse them as his father had his mother Grace. Or himself. “Okay, one down, and one to go. Any thoughts on little girl names?” He saw her face brighten. Just as Gabe thought, Bay already had some names in mind.
“Well,” Bay hedged, “I was thinking of Dawn Camille. My mother’s middle name is Camille.” Her voice grew emotional. “And my Grandma Dawn was so important to me, Gabe. We lost her a year after Pa died, and I felt so lost.”
Nodding, Gabe gently slid his hand over her ankle and foot, leaning down and picking up the socks. “I like them. Those are beautiful names,” he murmured, rolling the first sock over the toes of her right foot. Moving it around so it fit just right over her toes and heel, he picked up the other sock. “You think Poppy will like the names?”
Bay laughed softly. “Oh, I think she’ll be over the moon about it. She’ll probably cry buckets when we tell her our daughter’s middle name will be Camille.”
“Yeah, you women cry a lot,” Gabe muttered, teasing her as he pulled on the other sock. Patting her foot gently, he leaned down and slipped the sneakers back on each of her feet.
“Crying is always a good thing, Griffin, so just don’t go there. Okay?” Bay wagged her finger at him.
His smile increased, and he winked at her. “Your eyes are like sparkling sapphires when you cry.”
Touched, Bay shook her head. “You’re turning into a poet, Gabe.”
There was a knock at the screen door in the kitchen.
Gabe looked up, seeing his SEAL friend standing there. “Mike’s here,” he murmured. He got up, gave Bay a swift kiss on the lips and said, “Stay where you are. You need your rest. I’ll bring Mike in, introduce him and then we’ll grab a couple of beers and go out on the front porch and talk.”
“Okay,” she whispered, seeing the eagerness in Gabe’s face. Bay had to meet Mike Tarik. Gabe had told her his father was a world-class heart surgeon from Saudi Arabia. His mother was American. It would give her another answer to the puzzle about her husband. She knew he’d suffered badly as a child, and she was curious what kind of man Gabe considered the brother he’d always wanted but never had.
“Hey, man!” Mike called, breaking out into a huge grin of hello as Gabe opened the door to let him in. “Long time, bro,” he said, giving him a big hug and several hearty slaps on the back.
“Great to see you, too,” Gabe said, gesturing for him to come in. Like most SEALs, Mike appeared to be someone who blended in, and didn’t stand out. He wore a tan T-shirt across his heavily developed chest and broad set of shoulders, and a pair of Levi’s and Nike sneakers. Mike took off his black baseball cap as he entered the cabin.
“Any problems finding us?” Gabe asked drily, leading him over to the couch to introduce him to Bay.
Snorting, Mike growled, “Ah, come on, bro. That’s a low blow. Of course not.”
Chuckling indulgently, Gabe led him to the end of the couch so he could see Bay. “Just jerking your chain. Mike, I want you to meet my wife, Bay. And as you can see, she’s carrying two.” He smiled warmly down at her.
Mike immediately lost his smile and became formal. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Mike Tarik. I want to thank you for allowing me to come for a visit.”
Bay smiled, always touched by SEAL behavior with civilians. They were always the height of respect, always saying yes, sir, no, sir and ma’am. “Hi, Mike, it’s lovely to meet you. Gabe always talks about you.”
Mike rolled his eyes and glanced over at Gabe. He was two inches taller and weighed about twenty pounds more than his friend. “I’ll bet you did,” he murmured accusingly at Gabe.
Mike’s cheeks turned a dull red, his eyes looking at the black baseball cap he held between his large hands. “Thank you, Mike,” she said, her voice soft. “I didn’t know all you’d done for Gabe and me. I was out like a light at Bagram hospital.”
Tarik shrugged shyly, meeting he gaze. “It wasn’t anything, ma’am. SEALs stick together. Our women are always taken care of by one of us if they need help.”
Warmth pooled in Bay’s heart. Mike was excruciatingly shy, his gold-brown eyes so serious-looking as he meant every word he spoke. She especially liked the warmth in his eyes and that chiseled smile of his. He was clearly an extrovert while Gabe was an introvert. Mike was just what her husband needed.
“Well, I just want you to know, I’m grateful for you being there, Mike. Gabe needed your presence. We’ll never forget what you did for us.”
Mike made an embarrassed sound in his throat. “It wasn’t anything, ma’am. SEALs care for their own. It’s just a given.”
Bay smiled gently. Mike stood in a military “at ease” position, his hands clasping the cap in front of his body. He was darkly tanned, short black hair, straight black brows across what she would term “doe eyes.” The man had the most gorgeous eyes, a cinnamon-brown color with gold sparkling in their depths, that she’d ever seen. He had a square face, high cheekbones and seemed almost to look as if he were from a foreign country. Indeed, he was half Saudi. His father had met his American wife in Riyadh at the hospital because she was a nurse. He’d married her, and Mike was the result. He had dual citizenship with both countries. Bay was sure Mike could easily pass undercover as a Middle East operative.
Gabe had said Mike had often gone undercover in Afghanistan, working his way into the Taliban groups. He spoke Pashto, Arabic, French and English. Mike was responsible for destroying many major Taliban operations before they could be launched against Americans. He was a real hero.
“Relax,” Bay urged, “you’re with friends. And just call me Bay, all right?”
“Er…yes, ma’… I mean, Mrs. Griffin.”
Bay smiled to herself. Mike was so solemn and respectful toward her. She noticed he kept looking at her swollen belly. “Three more months, Mike,” she said, catching his startled gaze and gently patting her twins.
“Ma’am? I mean, shoot, pardon me, Mrs. Griffin. You said three months?”
She watched his cheeks grow a ruddy color again. Bay had found out even SEALs blushed every once in a while, and it was an endearing discovery to her. Gabe was grinning and enjoyed watching Mike twist in the wind. SEALs had playful but downright rough-and-tumble relationships with one another. Her husband was positively enjoying Mike’s floundering discomfort. Feeling sorry for the SEAL, she said, “Please, Gabe, can you get Mike a beer? Maybe you two would like to chat out on the front porch?”
Utter relief came to Mike’s face. He flashed her a big smile. “A beer sounds real good, Mrs. Griffin. Thanks.”
Gabe shook his head and growled, “Come on, before you get into more trouble. You got a real case of foot-in-mouth disease today, Tarik.”
Bay put her hand over her mouth to stop from laughing. She didn’t want to embarrass the SEAL any more than he was already.
Bay was fixing dinner for the three of them much later when the two SEALs ambled inside at dusk. The warm June weather made it perfect to open the screened-in windows within the cabin, the sweet smell of roses in bloom wafting through the home. Both men went to the bathroom to wash up. All afternoon as Bay rested and then got up later to work on dinner, she’d heard the two men talking nonstop, laughing and unmercifully teasing one another. She couldn’t hear what they said, but they were happy, and that made her smile. She knew Gabe missed being a SEAL. His enlistment had expired and so had hers. They were now of
ficially civilians. But nothing would ever take the SEAL out of Gabe. Not ever.
“Man, that smells good!” Mike murmured, coming over to the counter where Bay was taking a leg of lamb out of the pan. “Home cooking is the best.”
She grinned. “And I’m a good cook,” Bay assured him, transferring the dripping roast to a huge orange platter.
“Here,” Gabe murmured, “let me help you.”
“Okay,” Bay said, glad for his offer.
“What can I do, Mrs. Griffin?”
“Call me Bay.” She smiled up at Mike. “Mrs. Griffin is Gabe’s mother, Grace.”
“Yes ma’— Bay?”
She pointed to the silverware drawer to his left. “Mike? Get knives, forks and spoons out of that drawer and put them with the plates I just placed on the table?”
Mike set to work with intense focus. Bay smiled and turned away. He was probably a sniper. She’d ask Gabe later, but she knew she was right by his sudden focused intensity.
After dinner and dessert, Gabe poured everyone coffee. Mike cleared the table, carefully rinsed off every utensil and plate and dutifully placed them into the dishwasher. Bay felt like a queen with two terribly good-looking male servants who fulfilled her every wish.
When they returned to the table, Gabe put his hand on Mike’s broad shoulder. “You okay with us naming our son after you?”
Mike’s face went blank. And then realization hit him. And then the shock set in. His mouth dropped open as he understood the gravity of the request. “Are you serious?” he demanded, looking first at Gabe and then over at Bay.
Gabe nodded. He lost his teasing demeanor and said, “We’ve been close since we went through BUD/S class together. You’re like the brother I never had, Mike.” He shared a look with Bay, whose eyes grew soft. “I want our son to know he was named after one of the finest SEALs I’ve ever known. I want to tell him about the man he was named after. It will give our son something to live up to, to strive to become.” Gabe grinned. “And don’t worry, I’ll only tell our son the good stuff about you.”
Never Surrender Page 28
