by Lucy Ryder
“Uh-huh,” Ruben said mockingly.
He loved her, dammit. More than being a SEAL. More than his miserable life. More than he wanted to draw his next breath. And she’d told him to stop and had then fled as though she couldn’t stand the sight of him.
“Nothing,” he repeated wearily, shoving his hands through his hair and propping his elbows on the bar. He’d messed up and now he didn’t know how to fix it.
“So,” Ruben said, absently stirring his coffee, “this has nothing to do with a certain doctor you were seen practically inhaling whole in Bernie’s parking lot, then?” Sam turned to glare at his brother. Ruben’s sigh was as weary and heartfelt as Sam’s had been a minute ago. “You’re an idiot,” Ruben said.
Sam straightened and opened his mouth to ream his sibling a new one, then shut it with a snap and looked away. No use denying it. He was an idiot.
“I messed up,” he confessed roughly, swallowing past the lump of misery stuck in his throat like a burning lump of self-loathing.
“So fix it,” Ruben said, his voice laced with steel and something that sounded like impatience-laced sympathy.
“Don’t know if I can,” Sam admitted quietly, shoving a shaking hand through his hair. “She hates me.”
Ruben made a sound of irritation. “You’re an embarrassment to Irishmen everywhere, you know that, Kellan?” he snapped, and when Sam’s gaze flew up he added, “And here I thought your SEAL motto was ‘Adapt and Overcome.’” He pointed a finger at Sam. “So get over yourself, and go do some adapting and overcoming.”
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“You’re a SEAL,” Ruben reminded him ruthlessly. “Go be a SEAL. No obstacle too big and all that.”
For long tense seconds Sam glared at his brother. He finally gave a sharp nod and downed the last of the godawful coffee. He slapped the cup back in its saucer and shoved away from the bar.
“Pay the man,” he ordered, before turning towards the door. “I’ve got something to do.”
Groveling sounded about right, he admitted with a grimace. And when I’m finished she’s going to know she’s mine—and that I’m hers.
Failure was not an option. Not this time.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CASSIDY PUSHED OPEN the glass door to the sheriff’s department, recalling the last time she’d been there. And like that night, Hazel Porter was once again manning the front desk.
The deputy peered over her half-spectacles and an odd expression crossed her face. She cleared her throat loudly once, then again, and abrupt silence fell over the room as a dozen pairs of eyes swung in her direction.
Forehead wrinkling in confusion, Cassidy approached the desk, suddenly feeling as nervous as a newlywed outside the honeymoon suite.
“Evening, Mrs. Porter,” she greeted the deputy. “Dispatch said you…um…had a medical emergency?”
“Glad you could make it, hon,” Hazel rasped, and turned to snag a bunch of keys from the board behind her. “We have a…situation.”
“A situation?”
Hazel headed around the counter and made shooing gestures at the group of young deputies watching Cassidy with big toothy grins.
Cassidy frowned. “What’s going on?”
Hazel shook her head. “Ignore ’em, hon, they’re just a bunch of idiots with nothing better to do than stand around grinning like loons.” The last she said loudly, scowling at the deputies who instantly tried to pretend they were busy.
Cassidy opened her mouth but the desk sergeant barreled on. “It’s been a real slow week and nobody in this town can keep their noses out of other people’s business.”
Brow wrinkling with concern, Cassidy asked, “Are you all right, Mrs. Porter? You seem a little—”
“Call me Hazel, hon,” the deputy interrupted, “everybody does. And I’m fine.” Then she muttered something that sounded like, “Or I will be once all the hoo-hah is over,” leaving a clueless Cassidy to follow her down the hallway towards the holding cells.
Muffled laughter and scuffling sounded somewhere behind her and she glanced over her shoulder. Several deputies were pushing and shoving each other to peer around the door—like they were in junior high.
They grinned and gave her the universal thumbs-up sign. Weird, she thought with a mental eye-roll, and turned back to follow Hazel’s diminutive figure.
“This way, hon,” the deputy said, unlocking the door and gesturing as if they hadn’t done something similar a few months earlier. Stepping cautiously through the open doorway, Cassidy paused, wondering why every hair on her body was standing on end like a freaked-out cat.
Biting her lip uncertainly, she looked at the deputy and found Hazel staring at her with the oddest expression in her dark eyes.
“Don’t be too hard on him, hon,” Hazel murmured softly. “He’s an idiot, but we love him.”
Alarmed, Cassidy opened her mouth, certain now that Crescent Lake’s sheriff’s department was under some kind of Rocky Mountain madness. “Mrs. Porter—”
“It’s Hazel, hon,” the deputy interrupted cheerfully, and gestured to the large lump occupying the narrow bunk—in the same cell she’d entered before. “Now, in you go, everything’s already set up. Holler if you need anything.”
Squaring her shoulders, Cassidy stepped into the dimly lit holding area, vaguely aware that the cell doors were all ajar—and empty. That’s odd. The outer door slammed shut. She gave a startled squeak and told herself she was letting everyone’s weirdness affect her.
Inhaling an unsteady breath, Cassidy tightened her grip on her medical bag and headed for the occupied cell. Stepping through the open doorway, she sensed movement behind her and whirled, using the momentum to swing her medical bag at the intruder. With a surprised curse, he ducked and lifted his forearm in a lightning-fast move that caught her wrist and sent the bag flying.
Squeaking in alarm, Cassidy scrambled backwards and stumbled over her own feet. She fell, landing hard, and for just a moment saw stars. Gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of her, she blinked and realized a man—God, he was huge—was bending over her…reaching for her.
She saw his mouth move but heard nothing over the blood thundering in her ears as she scuttled out of reach. But his big hands closed over her shoulders and before she could squeak out a protest, he’d hauled to her feet like she weighed nothing.
Intent only on preventing every woman’s worst nightmare, Cassidy lashed out with her hands and feet, unaware that she was screaming until she heard a familiar voice calling her name.
“Jeez, Cassidy, stop. Stop it. Cassidy! Dammit. Calm down!”
She froze, gulping in great big sobs and stared into the dark face above her. It took her a couple of seconds to recognize the familiar masculine scent, the wide gold eyes staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
She croaked, “Samuel?” and her knees abruptly buckled. He yanked her against his big warm body, hard arms keeping her from sliding to the floor.
“Jeez, woman,” he growled into her hair, his arm an iron band across her back as she fisted her hands in his shirt and pressed her face into his warm throat. Her heart raced at warp speed. His free hand cupped the back of her head and she breathed in the comforting scent of heat, clean male and crisp mountain air.
By the time her heart dropped from stroke level to a mere freaked out, Cassidy remembered that she was furious with him—hell, he’d just scared a decade off her life.
Acting on impulse that was triggered by fear, fury and relief, she shoved him back and rammed her knee into his groin in one smooth move. With a startled yelp, he jerked away from the unexpected attack and dropped like a stone. Suddenly free, Cassidy hastily backed up until the cold steel bars bit into her shoulders.
“Holy…” Sam wheezed after a couple minutes of gasping like she’d gutted him with a scalpel. “What…the…hell…was…that…for?”
Shocked by her own action, Cassidy could only gape at him and stutter. “
You… I… Dammit!” Her knees gave out and she slid down until her butt hit the cold floor. When her vision finally cleared and she could speak without stuttering, she opened her mouth to apologize and “You scared the crap out of me, you…you dufus!” emerged instead.
Sam stilled for a long moment then a rough sound emerged from his throat, sounding like a mix between a laugh and a groan. Moving slowly like he was in severe pain, he sat up and sank back against the bunk, one leg drawn up tightly to his chest. In the dim light his mouth was a tight white line in his green complexion.
Appalled by what she’d done, Cassidy rose on shaky legs, took a couple of wobbly steps and dropped to her knees beside him.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” she gulped, lifting a hand to brush an errant lock of dark hair off his forehead. For a moment she enjoyed the feel of cool, silky strands between her fingers before admitting shakily, “I don’t know why I did that.”
His rough, gravelly laugh was abruptly cut off as he sucked in an unsteady breath and wiped his face with shaking hands. After a long silence he finally opened his eyes and stared at her.
“Dufus?”
She blinked. “What?”
“You called me a dufus.”
Cassidy grimaced and sat back on her heels. “Yes…well…um. It was the best I could come up with in the heat of the moment.”
His mouth curled into crooked smile and the expression in his eyes made her gasp. Before she could even begin to interpret it he said, “Come ’ere,” and wrapped his fingers around her wrist.
With a gentle tug he pulled her towards him. She gave a startled squeak and found herself in his lap. His arms, his warmth, his scent surrounded her and she was tempted to wrap herself around him too. Just to prove to herself that he was here. Fortunately, she recalled his behavior of the previous night and pushed away. Sam tightened his arms with a deep, rough sound of pain.
“Don’t…move,” he rasped in her ear. “Just…gimme…a minute.”
Realizing her bottom was planted right where she’d kneed him, Cassidy froze until she remembered that she was supposed to be treating an injured prisoner. Him?
“Where are you hurt?” she asked quietly, resisting the urge to run her hands, her lips over every inch of him.
He stilled and there was a moment of stunned silence. Then he lifted his head to gape at her. “Really? You do that and then ask where I hurt?”
A scalding blush rose into her cheeks and she bit back a hysterical giggle. “I’m s-sorry,” she said in an unsteady voice. “But you deserved it for scaring me.”
His snort told her what he thought of her apology. “I’ll be lucky if you haven’t permanently destroyed any chance I have of fathering future Kellans.”
Reminded that he wasn’t interested in making those future Kellans with her, Cassidy snapped, “That’s not my problem,” and tried to scramble away. He yanked her back.
“Stop that,” he ordered, clamping his hands on her hips and pulling her closer. “It is your problem.” And then he murmured something that sounded like, “Or it will be…I hope.”
Confused, Cassidy pulled back to look into his face. His color had returned but he still looked a little worse for wear.
“What’s going on, Sam?” she demanded, lifting her hands to examine the bruises on his face, before probing his shoulders and chest. “The dispatcher called for a medic.”
“Who just about crippled me. What’s with the ninja attack, by the way?”
“Sam…”
He sighed. “Look, you’re right I am a dufus. In fact—”
“Sam.”
“Just let me finish, okay,” he interrupted quickly, his hands clenching on her thighs and sending little shivers of heat and arousal through her. “I need to say this.”
Sighing, Cassidy studied him closely for signs of PTSD or at least an answer to his behavior. “All right,” she said quietly, ruthlessly squelching the urge to squirm against him. “I’m listening, especially to the part where I’m right.”
His mouth quirked up at the corner then tightened as he exhaled heavily. He looked nervous but Cassidy dismissed it as her imagination. He was a SEAL. The notion that he might be nervous made her want to smile. He’d survived being captured and tortured, for goodness’ sake. Samuel J. Kellan didn’t do nervous as much if not more than he didn’t do relationships.
But something was clearly up and it was starting to make her nervous. “What are you doing here?” she asked quietly when the silence finally became unbearable. “Aren’t you supposed to be parachuting into hostile territory and wiping out bad guys?”
“I quit,” he said quietly, his gaze intense and unreadable on hers.
She blinked. “You…you…what? But…wh-why?”
He was silent for so long she didn’t think he intended to reply but his gaze turned fiercely possessive when he finally admitted, “You.”
“Me. Me?” Her voice emerged as a squeak. “What do you mean, me?”
Sam’s mouth lifted at one corner but his eyes were serious. “I mean I was on a mission and all I could think about was you. That’s dangerous, Cassidy. For me and the team.”
This close, Cassidy could see the individual muscles in his throat as he swallowed. Not knowing where to put her hands, she smoothed them down her thighs to disguise the fact that they were trembling.
“I messed up,” he admitted softly. “I was five miles above the earth in a HALO jump and closing fast when my chute failed to deploy—”
Her head went abruptly light. “Oh, my God,” she gasped out, clutching at his shoulders and shaking him. “Tell me…” she demanded hoarsely. “Tell me you’re okay.” His hands reached up to grab hers before she ripped his shirt.
“Hey.” His grip tightened. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
She stared at him wide-eyed for a couple beats then pulled a hand free and punched him—hard. “Dammit, don’t…don’t you dare scare me like that.”
He winced and wrapped long fingers around her wrist. “If you’ll just let me finish,” he said gently.
Cassidy swallowed a sob and grimaced. “Sorry.”
He absently lifted her hand to plant a kiss on her white knuckles in a move that stunned her. “Well, there I was,” he continued, “falling at a hundred miles per hour…” Her gasp earned her a chiding look. “As I said, a hundred miles per hour, with the earth rushing up to meet me, and I thought, This is it. I even relaxed, thinking it was nothing more than I deserved for failing my team.” He paused and drew in a shaky breath. “Failing you. I heard someone yelling in my head and…hell…I was all ready to go out in a blaze of glory. Arm the grenades and aim for the target instead of the drop site…just blow everything to hell and back.”
“Oh, God, Sam no,” Cassidy cried out, slapping a hand over her mouth to hold in the ragged sound of shock and horror. Her eyes burnt with unshed tears and he tugged her close, smoothing a shaking hand over her messy ponytail to her back. “I was reaching for my stash, voices yelling in my ears, and the next second…” He pushed her away to look into her eyes. “The next second everything faded—like I’d blacked out—and I…I heard you…yelling at me to get my butt into gear.” He paused and swallowed. “Then you said…I love you Samuel, please…please don’t go.”
Stunned, Cassidy jerked back, fighting to free herself from his hold, but Sam’s grip tightened, banding around her like steel, as though he couldn’t bear to let her go. “Don’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t pull away. I know I deserve it, but…just let me finish. Please?” He waited until she stilled, her face buried against his wide shoulder, tears dampening the soft, warm cotton.
“I saw your face, Cassidy,” he said tightly against her temple. “As clear and real as you are to me now. And in that instant I knew… Jeez. You’re right, I am a dufus. It took almost dying to realize that I…that I…” He halted and sucked in a sharp breath.
Cassidy froze and when he continued to breathe heavily she pushed away from him and lifted her gaze pas
t the muscle twitching in his jaw. “That you what, Sam?”
His mouth twisted into a half-smile but his eyes glowed with an emotion Cassidy was too afraid to interpret.
“I was on a collision course with disaster. I blamed myself for living when my friends died. And when my chute failed I thought, It’s nothing more than you deserve. But you rescued me, Doc, and even though I hurt you…didn’t deserve you…I suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again. That I hadn’t told you.” He inhaled shakily. “My mind was suddenly clear, like I was finally seeing the world for the first time. I sent up a prayer and yanked that damn clip.
“For a couple seconds nothing happened…and then…and then it deployed.” He gave a ragged laugh and lifted his hands to cup her face. “Other than seeing your beautiful smile,” he told her softly, “it was the most welcome sight I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh,” was all Cassidy could manage, her voice low and raw.
“I love you Cassidy,” he said solemnly. “Tell me it’s not too late. Tell me I didn’t dream those words. Tell me you didn’t rescue me…my heart…only to break it.”
“Oh, Sam,” Cassidy said again, too overwhelmed to think past the jumble of emotions rioting through her. “You’re…sure?”
“That I love you? Dead sure—”
“Don’t say that,” she burst out, placing a hand over his mouth. He paled, looking appalled. “Don’t say that I love you?”
She let out a little giggle. “No,” she said, smiling, leaning in to replace her hand with her mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. “You can say that as often as you like. In fact, you need to say it again.”
Inhaling shakily, he thrust his fingers into her hair, his gaze falling to her mouth. “I love you,” he groaned, his lips dropping to brush against hers. “God, you have no idea how much I love you.”
Dizzy with happiness and wanting nothing more than to sink into his kiss, she throatily ordered, “Kiss me, then.” But he pulled back, grinning at her growl of frustration.
