Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5)

by Natasza Waters

  “Yes.”

  When Marg’s head rose again, tears filled her eyes. She swept a hand against her cheek and nodded jerkily. “Now, you’re going to listen to me. Whenever you leave me for a mission, you will do everything in your power to stay alive, and to keep your best friend alive. I love you both. Differently,” she added quickly. “But both of you mean everything to me.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “You did the right thing. And I agree with you, Kit would have eventually hurt someone. We all know it. It’s done. It’s over. And there will be no more judgement or discussion on the subject.”

  The wind caressed the nylon tent while sweeping the murmurs of conversation around campfires out to sea. The rolling waves striking the beach, swallowed their voices and drew them into the green depths. If Marg could accept what he’d done, than only God was left to judge him. The guilt he carried, evaporated.

  He leaned a little closer, and then a little closer yet. “No more second guessing.”

  She shook her head, and then pounced on him, gripping his neck with her warm hands and kissing him hard. “I love you, Patrick. I never stopped. I can’t stop.”

  She loved him—still. The world outside their tent could go to hell if Marg Stines could still see the goodness within his soul, and he laid her down beneath him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Marg crawled out of the tent, greeted with a salty, warm wind from the ocean. Last night had been healing for both of them. Sleeping in Patrick’s arms, her cheek resting against his beating heart was all she needed.

  When she reached the Reddings’ campsite, bacon sizzled in the fry pan but Lydia wasn’t around. “Red, where’s Lydia?”

  He didn’t look up. In fact, his shoulders seemed to slump a little. “She took a walk this morning.”

  Marg didn’t only sense something was wrong, but the entire Redding clan seemed very quiet and that didn’t happen often. “Okay, which way?”

  One of the kids motioned down the beach, and she walked around the trailer to have a look. Whatever was going on, it meant Lydia needed space, an unknown commodity in a family with six children. Last night when Red and Lydia took a stroll, Marg left before they returned.

  Marg ran back to their tent and unzipped the canvas. Pat rolled over with an inviting grin.

  “I need to find Lydia.”

  He sat up with a deep breath expanding his firm chest. “That might be a good idea.”

  His remark made her step into the tent. “Do you know what’s going on? If you do, tell me now.”

  Pat’s gaze flickered. “Go find her, she probably needs someone to talk to.”

  “Pat.”

  He tossed the sleeping bag open and reached for her hand, drawing her closer. She kneeled beside his taut nearly naked body and concentrated on his face, not the roping muscle between his hips or what rose hard and thick under his Jockeys. Last night, they had touched, caressed, but it wasn’t a night for wild, crazy sex.

  “Red,” he paused deliberating. “He made a mistake. A once in a lifetime mistake, and he didn’t want to bury it.”

  She sat back on her haunches, dissecting his words. “A mistake with another woman, you mean.”

  “Red has a will of steel. He’s devoted to his family and country. This is a first and a last.”

  “How do you know that? You can’t. When did this happen?”

  “In our stop-over before coming home. Two days in Tokyo. I told him to bury it. Leave it in Japan, but he couldn’t.”

  “You did what?” she growled. “How can you think that would be the right thing to do? Is that what you’d do?”

  Pat’s expression registered with uncertainty. “I would never do that once I’d committed to one woman.”

  “But you’d do it now.” She shuffled backward. “Thane said you were with someone there, too. Is that what SEALs do after their mission is complete? First woman they see, they take her to bed?” Pat slipped into his calm, collective mode. His expression unreadable. “So, you’re going to plead the fifth, huh?”

  “Marg.” He gripped her shoulder, and she removed it. “What happened between Red and Lydia is their stuff, not ours.”

  Without considering the ramifications, she blurted, “Who did you screw overseas?”

  Pat propped himself up on the heels of his hands, his chest a sexy invitation to explore the road map of muscle. “No one.”

  “Are you lying? Do the same rules apply to you as they do to Red? A one-time pass.”

  “Marg, stop moving away and talk to me,” he ordered as she maneuvered toward the exit of the tent.

  “About what? The SEAL code? I suppose it means live in the moment. Die in the moment. Love in the moment. Am I close?” She flicked her fingers. “Sorry, close isn’t a word you probably understand, unless it’s with your SEAL brothers.”

  Pat’s gaze sharpened with anger. “Marg,” he raised his voice, the first time she’d seen any real emotion deployed from him. “I love you, but I’m twenty-one fucking years old.”

  She backed out of the tent on her hands and knees, with only her head inside, she said, “When you figure out who you are, give me a call. Until then, your sluts can satisfy you with no strings attached.”

  His jaw edged to a sharp angle. “It’s not about strings.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.”

  She hopped to her feet and ran down the beach. Marg scanned every blonde she passed, but none of them the woman she needed to find. She finally slowed to a trot and then a walk. Where could Lydia be?

  The sun shone hot on her shoulders, and she wheeled around. Lydia liked her creature comforts. Maybe a restaurant? She quickened her step and was about to give up when she passed a small bistro with a patio looking out over the water. Lydia saw her at the same time.

  “Hey, I was looking for you.” Marg stepped over the hip high railing and sat in the empty chair at Lydia’s table.

  Her shoulders were straight as a board and if Marg didn’t know any better, she’d assume her friend was her noble, relaxed self. Even with six children, she sported the famous Jackie Kennedy calm and grace. Nothing seemed to ruffle her.

  “Coffee?” Lydia asked and signaled the waiter.

  “Love some.”

  Lydia lifted her cup and her intense blue eyes gave away the pain hiding beneath the surface. “What’s the plan for today?”

  Carefully, not knowing whether Lydia would even want to discuss what had transpired, she said, “Think a little girl time would be in order. We could go shopping.” She paused. “Or we could talk about how dangerous it is to love a SEAL.” Marg followed the contoured handle of her cup with her finger and concentrated on the table.

  “I’ve been considering that myself.” Lydia’s voice hitched, but she recovered quickly.

  Marg stretched her arm, laying a hand over her friend’s long, delicate fingers. “Red loves you. That’s easy to see.”

  A flicker of a smile touched Lydia’s lips. “I know that. I also knew something was very wrong when he returned this time.” She let out a sigh and savored a sip of her coffee. “Deployments are the hardest on a family. I’ve always given him time to adjust. That didn’t stop our amorous relations, but this time he didn’t want to be intimate.” Lydia lowered her gaze. “I guess I know why, and I presume you do, too. Do they all know?”

  Marg shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think he spoke to Pat, and he’s like a clam…with everything that’s on or in his mind.”

  Lydia straightened her blouse and looked toward the water. “Don’t let this sway you, Marg. Patrick is a good man. Red can tell within days whether a man will have a future as a SEAL. Even after all the training, there’s some who wash out once they’ve experienced the real thing. Red believes Patrick will have a brilliant future in the Navy. He trusts him already.”

  “Lydia, if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. I just want you to know that you can if you want to.” Marg gave her hand an extra squeeze and sat back in the chair. “Somehow,
you always seem in control, even now. I think I’d be losing it. In a way, I’m in the same boat. Thane told me Pat was with someone over there. He firmly denied the accusation. It hurts, but not as much as you must be hurting.”

  Lydia remained silent as the server set a croissant in front of her. When he left, she said, “Oddly enough, I’m not falling apart. I should be, but I knew one day this would happen.”

  “Why?”

  “Red and I met when we were very young. We married young and neither of us had much experience with dating. The commitment to the SEALs, all the time spent away on training and missions, leads to pent-up stress. Sometimes men release it in strange ways.”

  “You’ve forgiven him already!”

  Lydia rested her elbows on the table and clutched her hands. “Not forgiven. Just on standby.”

  “Did he explain why?”

  She shook her head. “He couldn’t explain, but how do you explain attraction?”

  “Not his attraction to the woman, but why he lost faith in your marriage.” Lydia’s eyes flashed with hurt and Marg felt like thumping her young, stupid head on the table. Maybe this is why Pat always thought before speaking. “Oh my God, Lydia. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say. I—I meant—”

  Lydia patted her hand. “I know what you meant. Even my husband can have moments of weakness.” A tear finally slid down her cheek. “Coming home to the same woman and a household full of children isn’t what they always need.”

  “All I’m hearing is what he needs. What about you? You keep everything going here at home.”

  She nearly jumped out of her seat when a gruff voice answered behind her. “Because Lydia’s stronger than I am. In all ways.”

  Marg shifted to see Red edging between the tables. A wreath of worry crowned his forehead.

  “I’ll just go,” Marg said, getting up.

  “Stay for a moment.” Red said.

  She settled back in her chair as Red crouched to his haunches and laid his palm over Lydia’s hand. “I love you. From the very first day I saw you, and that will never change.” He reached a hand to her cheek and brushed away the tear on her fair skin. “If I didn’t have you to come home to, I may never have made it this long. You give me a reason and the hope I need when I’m in places that offer no other option than hell itself.”

  “I really should go,” Marg said, standing. She couldn’t bear the despair on either of their faces.

  “Marg, whether you know it or not, Patrick sees you in the same way. He’s young, but he’s steadfast. I doubt he’ll ever make the same mistake I did.”

  Marg brushed a curl of hair over her ear. She feared opening her mouth and saying something silly, but she had to say something. “My parents never showed each other the kind of love I see between you two. Maybe they do it in private, but I doubt it. My mother isn’t about hugs and comforting words. She’s about socials, society and tennis, but I have my Grams and when she talks about Braden Stines, her first husband, I can see she still loves him. The same way you two love each other. Grams told me that we all make mistakes. Once in a while, they’re unforgiveable. She also said, unforgiveable lives in the heart, but so does love.”

  “Your grandmother is a smart woman,” Lydia said, not taking her eyes off her husband.

  * * * *

  Marg wandered slowly back toward the beach. Taking her time, peeking into windows and ignoring the comments from the teenage surfer boys who passed her. Her heart waned heavy for Lydia, for Red, and for all the girls who fell in love with a sailor. How had Grams and Lydia remained so strong?

  When Patrick left her standing in her family’s driveway, she’d been angry, but anger soon turned into worry. The whole time he’d been gone, she was scared for him. Now, after so many months of separation, they had one night together. Held each other tightly, only to find she might be just as forgettable to him as one of the Frog Hogs who gave themselves freely to the teams. Patrick wanted her, he just didn’t want her enough to make a commitment.

  Suddenly, she was glad they hadn’t made love.

  While staring into a bookstore window, her gaze caught her own image, instead of what lay behind the glass. Patrick had reminded her of their age, which meant they had many years of life to go. She knew her way forward. At least for now. Her agent had several jobs lined up since she’d appeared on the cover of American Sweetheart. Time to grab her future with both hands and ride it out until modeling wasn’t an option anymore. Along the way, she’d keep a sharp lookout for other possibilities. She’d save her money and use her degree in Business Management.

  She nodded at her own reflection. It was time to go.

  Marg enjoyed the sights as the beach awakened with a new day of fun and sun. Walking back to Patrick’s tent, she stoked her commitment to her future. She’d collect her few items in his tent and quickly leave.

  Thankfully, he wasn’t around. Probably on the dunes with a couple other girls already. She plucked up her jeans and a small bag and hooked it over her shoulder, then stopped by Red and Lydia’s trailer. Sandra was there, drinking a beer, and her sisters hung out, reading comic books or playing in the sand. Marie added another bucket of sand to a mountain already erected next to the trailer.

  “Sandra, don’t think you’re allowed to have that,” she said.

  She shrugged with a serious teenage mope on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Lydia’s daughter shrugged again. Was it her parents or a boy? “You’re not wasting this great weekend worried about Thane, are you?” It was a shot in the dark.

  “He doesn’t even notice me,” Sandra said.

  Her sister rolled her eyes but remained quiet.

  “You’re too young for Thane, and your father is his lieutenant. He’d never want to make Red angry.”

  “Daddy likes Thane.”

  Marg kneeled down for a second. “He does, but he loves his little girl.”

  “I’m not little. I’m fifteen. I’ve been with guys before.”

  Marg’s brows popped. “Boys, not men, and Thane is a man.” Marg turned Sandra’s chin upward. “Look around you. There’s plenty of good looking young guys who would love to spend time with you.”

  Her gaze rose slowly. “But I think I love Thane.”

  “I hate to tell you this, but a lot of women do, and he doesn’t love any of them back.”

  “Why?”

  Marg grinned, knowing what the answer was but not really sure if she should be honest. She wasn’t much older than Sandra, but those years between puberty and voting were more like eons. “Thane is one of those guys that loves the rush of excitement and danger. He lives in the moment. I think he’ll be that way for many years to come. Don’t wait for him to come to his senses.”

  “Patrick is handsome, too.”

  She cleared her throat. “He is.”

  “Mom, says you and Patrick are in love.”

  This, she definitely couldn’t explain. Her sister piped up. “Why don’t you stop feeling sorry for yourself and let’s go dune buggy riding. I saw a couple of hot guys with helmets walk by a couple minutes ago.”

  “Sounds like a great plan.” Marg agreed and pushed to her feet, then nearly jumped out of her skin. Pat stood behind her, but hadn’t said a word.

  She directed her attention on an exit route and brushed past him without saying a word. It’d be a bit of a hike to get back to town, then she’d call a cab and go to the bus terminal. There had to be something going to Southern California on a regular run.

  “Marg!” He gripped her arm. “Where’re you going?”

  “San Diego.”

  “Why?” His expression curled with male question, squeezing his brow together, and looking totally devoid of understanding.

  “Why do think? You and Thane can go trolling together.”

  “That’s not what I want.”

  “You just finished telling me you don’t know what you want. Have a good life, Patrick.” Before she took two steps
, Patrick slung his arm around her waist and pasted her to his chest.

  Pressing his mouth against her ear, he said, “I want you. It’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

  With two hands, she pushed on his shoulders. “You had me. Now go find someone to hunt down and conquer. Then move on to the next, and the next.”

  His hands released her, but not his gaze. Soulful, deep and penetrating. His handsome, rugged features could fill a woman’s dreams for a lifetime. They would haunt hers. “I’m heading back to San Diego to inform my landlord I’ll be breaking the lease. Before you judge me, you should know I’m not running home, only starting again in L.A.”

  Pat watched her, the nerve on his sharp jawline ticked with emotion. His grey eyes blazed a trail, leaving burn marks where it touched.

  “I have a future, with or without you, Patrick Cobbs.”

  “I know that.”

  “You are so frustrating,” she yelled, her clenched fists, slicing through the air. This time, he let her get halfway down the beach before he intercepted again.

  “Are you angry at me or angry at Red for what he did to Lydia?”

  She didn’t answer. Right now, she hated all men equally.

  Patrick stepped in front of her and when she tried to dodge him, he gripped her arms. “Answer me,” he growled in a low timbre that made her blood rush through her veins.

  Time for a shot below the belt. “I learned a lesson today. One I’ll always remember. Even men in love, cheat.”

  “That’s not true.” He leaned closer. “I don’t want you to walk away from me thinking that. It’s bullshit.”

  “Don’t care what you want anymore.”

  Patrick fisted her hair and drew her to his chest. “I care. You want to see how much?” His breath came faster. “I’m at the end of my noble rope, Marg. What I want is you in my tent, your beautiful legs hooked over my shoulders while I do things to you that make you want to scream.”

  Her body began to tremble. She swallowed thickly. Patrick palmed her head and took possession of her mouth. Anger drained like someone opened a drain.

  Be angry. Get angry.