A SEAL's Salvation

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A SEAL's Salvation Page 20

by Tawny Weber

* * *

  A HALF HOUR LATER, Brody flexed his shoulders to try to get the heavy fabric of his uniform to lie comfortably. His hat tucked under his arm, he took a second to glare at the spit-shine polish on his black shoes and wonder if his gramma had done that. Then another moment to absorb how special it was that she had.

  “C’mon,” Reilly said quietly.

  Since the cop had parked illegally in front of the town hall, all they had to do was mount the steps and push through the wide doors. All the way, Brody focused as if he was approaching a mission. No room for emotions. He was here to do a job. A job that he was trained for, one that his military résumé claimed he was qualified to do.

  A deep breath, his emotions locked tight in some far corner he never saw when he was in the zone, he entered the battle—or as everyone else called it, the main hall.

  And stopped short.

  Damn, this was bigger than he’d expected. It looked as though the entire town had crowded into the huge room. Off to one side were a handful of strangers, cameras and recorders in hand. The press. On stage the mayor stood at a lectern, Genna seated to his right. To the left was a row of chairs, all but one filled.

  His team. To a man, they were all here. Like him, they were all decked out in dress whites. He tensed, his eyes widening when he saw who was seated in the command position. Admiral Pierce? Wasn’t it bad enough being declared a hero in front of a team of men just as heroic? But they’d brought in the brass, too?

  Then he noticed the large framed photo propped before the podium.

  Carter.

  This wasn’t about him, Brody realized.

  This event was to honor Carter.

  The real hero.

  Reeling with emotions so strong they almost knocked him on his ass, Brody’s gaze cut to Genna. She stared right back, her chin high and pride in her eyes. She’d arranged this. She’d understood what he hadn’t.

  His gut ached with the power of his feelings.

  He looked at his team.

  And knew they were all feeling the same thing.

  Pride and loss.

  Knowing, accepting, that he belonged up there next to them, Brody nodded to Reilly, then made his way to the front of the room. After his salute to the admiral, he took his seat.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us today,” the mayor said, his tone holding jovial respect. “I’d like to offer a special thanks to our honored guests. Admiral Pierce, Bedford’s own Brody Lane, as well as the United States Navy SEAL team he serves with.”

  Mayor Tucker dived into his speech with gusto, reveling in the attention but keeping a sober, respectful tone that made it clear that this was more than just a promo op for him.

  After he wound up his words by expressing pride that the town could call one of their own a part of such an esteemed group, he handed the lectern over to the SEALs.

  Brody joined his team as they honored their fallen comrade. Like the others, when his time came he stood and said a few words. Not about heroism, or about his own loss. He spoke of what it meant to be a SEAL. Of why they did what they did. It wasn’t for glory, or even for acknowledgment. That’s why their missions were classified. They did it because they were the best. Because they were the ones who could.

  As he finished, he looked at his team. Landon, Masters, Castillo and the rest. Their faces echoed the pride he felt. By the time he stepped away from the lectern, he’d found peace.

  His gaze found Genna’s.

  And there, he’d found love.

  He figured it was a lucky man who could claim both. And an idiot who’d let either go.

  * * *

  GENNA WIPED THE tears from her cheeks, but they just kept coming. Thankfully, nobody was looking at her as she moved off the stage. All eyes were on the SEALs as the men stood to leave. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the building didn’t tilt to one side, everyone moved toward them so quickly.

  “Genna.”

  After another quick swipe over her cheeks, she turned to offer the mayor a smile.

  “That was fabulous. Wonderful,” he gushed, almost bouncing in his Gucci loafers he was so excited. “I wasn’t sure about the changes at first, but you were so right. Kudos. If you ever want a job with me again, it’s yours.”

  After a quick pat on her shoulder, he made like a whirlwind toward the press. Leaving Genna to blink. Wow. The man had never been that effusive when he’d actually had to sign her paycheck.

  “Nice offer.”

  Sighing, she turned to face her parents. “I’m not going back to work for the mayor.”

  “Of course you’re not, darling,” her mother said, elbowing her husband. “I’ve been playing hostess at the dessert table. Sweetheart, your offerings are amazing. And the money people are paying!”

  Genna and her father exchanged smiles. Nothing turned Cara Reilly’s opinion around faster than other people’s opinions. Especially when those opinions were made in cash.

  “I just wanted to sneak away for a moment to give you a kiss and tell you how proud I am,” her mother continued. “Now I’m going back to the table. I want to make sure every sale includes a flier for your business. I’m keeping a list, too, of people who’ve expressed interest. I’ll be happy to follow up and remind them to buy stuff later.”

  As excited as if she’d thought it up and pushed Genna into starting Sugar and Spice herself, Cara gave her daughter a quick kiss, then hurried off.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly to her father.

  “I didn’t change her mind,” he said with a shrug. “And I’m still not completely sure this is a good idea. There are a lot of risks. But I do believe you can handle them.”

  “Then thank you twice,” Genna said with a reluctant laugh. “For believing I can handle myself. And for bringing Brody.”

  Her dad nodded, his gaze cutting across the room. Maybe it was the white uniforms, or just the general air of command, but the SEALs stood out as if a spotlight were shining on them.

  “He’s a good man,” her father told her. He offered a bittersweet smile. “The kind of man anyone would be proud to have for a son.”

  Oh. Genna had thought she was through with tears. Knowing how hard that was for her father to say, to even think given his guilt and anger over Joe, all she could do was offer a hug. And sniffle a little more.

  “Go on,” her dad said after giving her a quick squeeze. “You have things to do.”

  “No.” She looked around the room, so glad she wasn’t ever going to have to plan one of these things again. “My part is done.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Genna looked toward the podium, her eyes immediately finding Brody. She’d done this for him. To honor what she thought he believed heroism to be. To give everyone, including herself, a chance to show their gratitude for what he and others like him did. And, maybe, to give him a little closure.

  She hadn’t thought about after, though.

  And now that it was here, she was nervous.

  “Maybe later. This is his moment. I’ll talk to him after the crowd disperses.” Or at his gramma’s. Or maybe she’d write a letter.

  “Excuse me.”

  “Or you could try now.” With an inclination of his head and a twitch of his lips, her father gave Genna an arch look and said, “Good luck.” And left.

  Just like that. Years of overprotective hovering and he chose this moment to let her sink or swim?

  Her nerves jangling so hard in her system, she was surprised her entire body wasn’t vibrating, Genna pressed her lips together, took a breath and turned around.

  Oh. He was so gorgeous.

  She’d never been one of those women who swooned over a guy in uniform before. But Brody in uniform? Delicious.

  “Can we talk?”
he asked quietly.

  She wasn’t sure she was ready to. She’d been so nasty to him before, then instead of trying to fix things, she’d arranged an event he’d specifically said he didn’t want.

  “Seriously? You want to talk?” she asked, trying to sound as if she was teasing instead of nervous. She gestured to the group of still-surrounded men. “It looks like the admiral is leaving―shouldn’t you say goodbye? Why don’t you spend this time with your friends? I’ll be here if you want to talk later.”

  Here, home, somewhere.

  But Brody didn’t even look around. Instead, those golden eyes stared, intense and hypnotic. Genna wanted to squirm. Not from nerves this time, though. Nope, that was pure sexual heat in that gaze. The kind that made her want to strip him out of that delicious uniform and taste everything underneath.

  “C’mon,” he said, taking her hand. Fingers wrapped around hers, he led her to the door. “I can talk to them later. We need to talk now.”

  Later?

  Unlike Brody, Genna looked back. She caught Blake’s eye. The other man, admittedly dashing in his uniform, gave her a slow nod. For the success of the event? Or because he thought Brody might be returning to his team? Blake’s expression didn’t give anything away. Damn, these men were hard to read.

  Still, she didn’t ask. Not while Brody led her out of the building. Not when he looked around, then guided her over to the small gazebo across the street from the town hall. Not when he took off his hat, tossed it on the bench and took her hands.

  She did melt a little then, though. It felt so good to touch him again. It wasn’t until this second that she realized how afraid she’d been that she’d never be able to again.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, before he could say a word.

  “What for?”

  “For yelling at you. For trying to push you into doing what I thought was best. For going ahead with this event, knowing your feelings about it.”

  “For thinking I was a hero?”

  “Hardly.” Genna gave him an are you kidding look. “If you don’t want to see yourself that way, that’s fine. I mean, who wants a guy who thinks he’s so awesome he should be declared a hero?”

  “Say what?” Looking confused, Brody shook his head as if trying to clear his ears. “I thought you thought...”

  “That I thought you were a hero?” she finished when his words trailed away. At his sheepish nod, she pulled both hands out of his to frame his face. Staring into his eyes, she smiled. “I don’t think you’re a hero. I know you are. You’re my hero. Whatever else you do, whether it’s saving the world or pouring whiskey, you’ll be my hero. Because you saved me. From myself, from my fears, from wasting my life.”

  He started to shake his head, so she hurried on before he could interrupt.

  “You helped me realize that I have to stand up for myself. And that even if it isn’t welcome, that sometimes we have to stand up for others.”

  She waited to see if he understood that she didn’t blame him for trying to protect her. Again. When he tilted his chin, she knew he did.

  “I’m strong enough to build my own life, Brody. To make it with you, while you’re by my side. Or while you’re away, serving our country. I’m even strong enough to survive without you.” She had to stop and swallow the tears that threatened to choke her words. “You’re my hero. And I’m strong enough to be yours.”

  For a brief moment, Brody looked so vulnerable. His gaze was soft and his smile sweet. He leaned down, resting his forehead on hers, and closed his eyes. A heartbeat later, he brushed a gentle kiss over her lips.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “Forever. I think I’ve loved you forever.”

  Too happy even for tears, Genna offered an ecstatic smile. She brushed her fingers over his cheeks, then sighed.

  “I love you, too. Just as much, and for just as long. You really are my hero, Brody. You always will be.”

  “Lane.”

  Brody held Genna’s gaze for a long, heart-melting second longer. Then, transforming before her eyes, he came to attention, did an about-face and saluted.

  “Sir.”

  “Report for duty Monday morning at oh-six-hundred.”

  Genna pressed her fingers to her lips, trying not to cry. She’d never thought she’d be so happy to hear that the man she loved was committing to spend a huge amount of time away from her. But she’d never thought she’d love someone like Brody, either.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His face blank, Blake returned the salute. Then he flashed Genna a quick smile and a wink before rejoining his grinning wife.

  Brody waited until they were out of earshot before turning back to take Genna’s hands.

  “So. I have to go back to work,” he said quietly. He brought one hand, then the other, to his lips to brush each with a soft kiss. “For the next month, at least, I’ll be based in Coronado. I can put in a request for military housing instead of the barracks. Or I can come back here and visit on weekends for a while. Until you decide what you want to do.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Whatever makes you happy.”

  “You,” she said simply. “You make me happy.”

  And there it was.

  Genna was smart enough to recognize happy ever after when she was staring right at it. And wise enough to know that while it wasn’t always going to be easy, her life with Brody was going to be amazing.

  Her lips met his, their kiss as sweet as their declarations.

  They were going to live happily ever after.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from TEXAS OUTLAWS: BILLY by Kimberly Raye.

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  1

  PRO BULL RIDER William Bonney Chisholm had a hard-on the size of Texas.

  He stood smack-dab in the middle of the kickoff dance for the Lost Gun Fair and Rodeo, a three-week-long event taking place at the fairgrounds on the outskirts of town. The band had started up. Couples two-stepped across the dance floor. The pungent scent of beer and livestock teased his nostrils. Cigarette smoke cluttered the air.

  Easy, bud. Easy.

  He shifted and damned himself for being such a sucker for the opposite sex. Blondes, in particular.

  He’d fallen hard and fast years back the first moment he’d set eyes on Tami Elder’s Malibu Barbie. Tami had taken riding lessons at the ranch where Billy and his two older brothers had grown up. They’d been taken in by rodeo star Pete Gunner after their crook of a father had died in a house fire. Since Billy’s mother had passed years before that and the Gunner spread was an all-male domain—home to the infamous Lost Boys, a crackerjack group of young riders trained and honed by pro bull rider Pete Gunner himself—the only female Billy had ever kept company with had been a paint horse by the name of Lula Bell.

  Until Tami had started coming out to the ranch every Sunday. He’d done his best, like any ten-year-old boy when faced with a cootie-carrying girl, to make her life a living hell. He’d shot spit wads while she’d rubbed down her horse and fired his water gun at her while she’d trotted around the corral.
<
br />   He’d hated her, and she’d hated him, and all had been right with his male-dominated world. Then one hot summer afternoon, everything had changed. That had been the summer he’d turned eleven and spied his oldest brother, Jesse, kissing Susie Alexander, the local rodeo queen.

  Kissing, of all things.

  Billy had been hurt, then he’d been mad, and then he’d glimpsed an actual tongue and he’d been damned interested. For a little while. Then he’d been mad again and he’d raced off to gather some chinaberries for his slingshot. To see how many shots it took to get his brother away from Miss Travis County.

  He’d been up in a nearby tree counting his berries when Tami had finished her riding lesson. She’d slid off the horse and wandered over to the tree, her doll case in hand, to play until her dad finished talking to the riding instructor. He’d meant to shoot off a few practice shots at her, but then her dad had called her over. He’d climbed down and had been about to stomp the daylights out of her Barbie when he’d realized that it wasn’t just any old Barbie.

  It was a naked one.

  Just like that, his belief system had done a complete one-eighty. One glance at all those interesting curves and that long blond hair and those deep blue eyes, and he’d started to wonder at the possibilities when it came to the real thing.

  Yep, he loved blondes.

  The trouble was, the pretty little thing standing near the bar was a brunette.

  His gaze swept from her long, wavy brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail to the shiny tips of her black stilettos, and back up again. She looked nothing like the other buckle bunnies crowding the dance floor. No itty-bitty tank tops or scandalous Daisy Duke shorts. Instead, she wore a black skirt that accented her tiny waist and a sleeveless black blouse that fell softly against a modest pair of breasts. There was nothing voluptuous about her. Nothing outright sexy.

  Ah, but there was something about the way she stood there, her back so stiff and straight, her lips parted slightly as she sipped from a red plastic cup, that made his adrenaline pump that much faster.

 

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