Her SEAL Protector

by Jillian Burns

  He hadn’t looked back.

  “How is it being back at work?” James appeared at her cubicle.

  Gabby jumped, her heart racing. “James,” she gulped his name. “You scared me.”

  He frowned, looking hurt and concerned at the same time. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, no. It’s not your fault. I’m jumpy lately.”

  “Me, too. Ever since...” He gestured vaguely to the room. “You know.”

  Gabby nodded. At her boss’s insistence, she’d spent two weeks recovering with her parents in Texas before New York Corporate Bank Inc. allowed her to return to work. But the time off hadn’t really helped. She still had nightmares. Insomnia. Depression.

  Her family was worried, but they didn’t understand. Didn’t know what to do for her, or how to act. She’d found herself resenting their normalcy. Their ability to go about their everyday lives while she—she kept seeing Mr. V with blood gushing out of his head.

  She’d been told they’d recovered his body. There was a funeral in New York, but Gabby had still been in Texas. Half of her had wanted to attend the service. The other half had worried that she would completely lose it and embarrass herself. She just couldn’t believe he was dead. Gone forever.

  And she’d come so close to meeting the same end.

  James stepped into her cubicle and drummed his fingers on her desk. “It might help to talk about it. Want to get some lunch?”

  No, she didn’t. “I brought mine from home.” She pointed at the brown paper bag sitting beside the printout of reports she’d planned to work on while she ate. “I’m weeks behind.”

  “Yeah, sure. I understand.” James stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. “I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted. Before we were rescued, I mean.” He winced and raised devastated eyes to hers.

  “It’s okay.” She reached up and patted his upper arm. “It was a horrible ordeal. And no one really knows how they’ll react under such circumstances.”

  Except, a small voice crept into her thoughts, Clay would never have acted that way. He had protected her, reassured her and, ultimately, saved them. Of course, he was a soldier. He’d been trained to handle unspeakable violence and mind-numbing terror. But even so, there’d been something about the man. An indefinable quality that no training could give.

  “I can’t sleep,” James said quietly. “And when I do sleep I have nightmares.”

  “Me, too, sometimes.”

  “The counselor says it’s PTSD.”

  She nodded. James did look thinner. Haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. Did she look as bad? What had happened to her resolve that night in the jungle to take risks and live life to the fullest? Back in the real world, it wasn’t so easy.

  James was still staring at the floor, picking at a fingernail. “Do you feel like sometimes everyone is looking at you? And like you just want to scream at them?”

  “Yes.” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But finally, someone who understood. If she was to get back some semblance of a normal life she had to start somewhere, right? She got to her feet and stuck her lunch sack in her file cabinet drawer. “I changed my mind. Let’s grab some hot dogs and eat at the park.”

  James’s head snapped up and he smiled. “That’d be great.”

  * * *

  SHE BEGAN EATING lunch with James almost every day, and talking with him did help. Despite his pitiable behavior during the kidnapping, he understood what she was feeling. She could tell him things.

  They’d experienced this horrible ordeal together, and with James she was able to work through her complicated feelings. She was angry, but appreciated being alive. She wanted to curl up and be alone, but she also wanted to go running through the streets screaming. She yearned for someone special in her life. But the only person she thought about all the time was a complete stranger who just happened to be assigned to rescue her.

  Of course she didn’t mention that last part to James.

  “I notice you rub your necklace a lot,” he said while they were having their usual lunch in the park the following week. He motioned to the silver charm around her neck.

  “It’s a medal. The Miraculous Medal of the Virgin Mary. My Abuelita—my grandmother—gave it to me for my First Communion. I’ve worn it ever since.”

  “It must be very special.”

  “She died not long after. I kind of think of her as my guardian angel. The medal has always made me feel safe.”

  He smiled, stood and leaned over the table to finger it, studying it closely.

  Gabby stiffened. He was too close. His cologne, always overapplied, was especially cloying this close.

  Finally, he let go and returned to his seat, eyeing her with a meaningful glimmer.

  She looked away. What was the matter with her? Just because he wasn’t Clay...

  Pigeons were pecking at crumbs on the ground around her. Zuccotti Park was nice in the spring. A brisk mid-March breeze made her lunch sack flutter, and she could see a few bright green leaf buds trying to catch some of the sun’s rays on the tree limbs above her. Soon, it would be Easter.

  Last year on Palm Sunday hundreds of local Catholics had processed down Broadway, passing right by here, carrying palm fronds and singing “Hosanna” on their way to Mass. She’d wanted to join them, but she had talked herself out of going, too timid. Now, her reasons—that she wouldn’t know anyone, that it would be crowded and intimidating—seemed weak and, like so many other excuses she had for not doing anything remotely exciting, irrelevant.

  “So, you want to go see a movie or something tonight?”

  Gabby looked up from her sandwich. A movie. Sitting in a dark theater alone with James? Like a date? He’d become a good friend but...she didn’t think she could ever feel that way about him.

  Wait. Was she just making excuses again? Was it a habit so ingrained that she would never be able to break free from her self-defeating mentality? What was the worst thing that could happen? It wasn’t as if she was promising to be his girlfriend. It was one date. She could just go for it. See how she felt afterward. Her braver self—the one from the jungle—would’ve said yes, wouldn’t she?

  “Never mind.” James tossed the remains of his lunch in the trash can. “It was a bad idea.”

  “Wait.” She smiled at him. “I’d love to go.”

  “Yeah?” James smiled so big she could see his gums.

  “Sure.”

  “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up.”

  Gabby hesitated. If she was going to be braver, live more, then she needed to really step out of her comfort zone, take risks. And she hadn’t made chicken mole since Christmas. Her mouth watered at the thought of the chili and chocolate sauce. And she should have a guy over to her apartment. Even if it was just for a meal. “Come about six and I’ll make something for dinner.”

  “Sounds great.” He moved his hand to cover hers on the table between them.

  Her instinct was to snatch it away. But why? Maybe she just couldn’t get past the way he’d acted during the kidnapping. And that wasn’t really fair to him. So she forced herself to keep her hand in his.

  When he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, she looked up and met his gaze. His smile was so...possessive. And she saw two things in his eyes she wished she didn’t see. Desire. And something even worse.

  Hope.

  * * *

  THE TALL BRUNETTE in the middle booth smiled at him. Frog hog alert. He’d seen her and her friends at Barney’s before, flirting outrageously with other SEALs—aka frogmen—and leaving with them. Just what he was looking for.

  Clay broke the triangle of balls on the pool table and then returned her smile. She was leggy and tanned, with pretty hazel eyes and a wide mouth. Dressed kind of skimpy for March, but then,
this was Barney’s Pool Hall, not the Kennedy Center. He should head over there, buy her a drink and take her out on the dance floor for a little two-stepping. Then see if she wanted to get out of here.

  While he waited for a good country song to play, he studied the pool table for possible shots and tried to examine why he wasn’t already over there offering to buy her a beer. Well, he had just started this game. And she was talking with her girlfriend now, anyway. If she wasn’t still sitting there when he finished sinking the solids, no big deal.

  No big deal? He hadn’t gone home with a woman in almost a month. Not since before... Paraguay.

  Gabby. He never should’ve kissed her.

  He pictured her the last time he’d seen her. Her long black hair falling in a tangled mess down her back. Filthy, limping, resolute. Running back to hug him. Telling him he was phenomenal. Like he was some kind of hero. When she’d been the truly brave one. Smiling in the face of overwhelming danger.

  Smart and brave. Not his type at all. In fact, just the opposite. She practically screamed white picket fence. Hell, she was a virgin. But he did wonder how she was doing after such an ordeal. Curiosity about someone he’d rescued was normal, right?

  Just for laughs, he pulled out his phone and checked out her Twitter page. @nerdybank-something?

  Searching brought it up quickly.

  #bankingpunoftheday Mathematicians are often reluctant to cosine a loan.

  He didn’t get it. He checked the definition of the word cosine.

  Okay, that didn’t help at all. She was a true brainiac. Definitely out of his league.

  His thumb hovered over the follow button several seconds...and then he clicked it. Didn’t hurt to learn new words, did it? He was just curious.

  He checked out another of her Tweets.

  @nerdybankanalyst

  Learning to cope with nightmares. Talking with friends helps. Looking forward to getting back to normal. #PTSDnotfun

  Clay frowned. She was having nightmares? He knew guys who’d come back from a mission and then had some sleepless nights. He’d had a few himself. That they could have a conversation about.

  What? What was he doing? He wasn’t going to have a conversation with her. He didn’t even know the woman. Well, he knew she had sweet lips and a shy smile. He knew she had a loving family and a rare kind of courage in a person her age.

  Still, he needed to shake off his memories of her. Concentrate on what was right in front of him. He glanced at the brunette.

  Just as soon as he finished this game. He bent over, took a shot and sunk one of the solids. As he straightened, he realized the brunette had moved right behind him.

  “Playing all by yourself?” She cocked a hip against the pool table and brushed her hand through her hair, giving him a sultry smile.

  Too easy.

  He wouldn’t be anything special to her. Just another SEAL she could say she’d had. What was he thinking? Did that matter? Sex was sex. But how many beds had he gotten up out of in the morning and still felt...unsatisfied? He just wanted more tonight. A fuller, curvier figure. A smile that spoke volumes. Big, dark eyes that looked up at him as if he rocked her world and said if she couldn’t have him, then no one else would do.

  The brunette’s smile had faded. She was about to turn away. What was he doing? He had to get out of this rut.

  He stepped forward and put his hand at her waist. “Hey, sorry, I was somewhere else for a sec. How about I buy you a drink?”

  Her smile returned. “That would be great.”

  “Don’t believe a word he says, ma’am.”

  Clay would know that voice anywhere. He turned, and his buddy Neil stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. Clay still hadn’t gotten used to seeing him in civilian clothes.

  He clasped Neil’s right hand in a hard shake and pulled him in for a quick slap on the shoulder. “Barrow, you Goody Two-shoes.”

  “Bellamy, you dumb hick,” Neil growled, and then grinned.

  Neil was the one person on earth who could get away with calling Clay dumb. And that was only because Clay knew Neil didn’t mean it. He let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose I have to buy you a beer now.” Clay caught the waitress’s eye and held up two fingers.

  “And I suppose I have to beat you at pool.”

  “You can surely try.”

  Neil’s gaze cut over to the brunette still waiting beside Clay. “I think I interrupted...”

  Clay spared a glance at the girl, who’d raised an exasperated brow. He could at least relieve her of her phone number, but... “How about a rain check, darlin’.”

  “In your dreams.” She huffed off.

  Neil shook his head and tsked. “It’s a sad day when Hounddog loses his touch with the ladies.”

  Clay shrugged. Still, when the waitress brought their beers, Clay had a pitcher of margaritas sent over to the brunette’s booth.

  “To the ladies.” Clay extended his brown bottle to Neil’s for a toast.

  “To my special lady,” Neil retorted as he clinked his bottle to Clay’s.

  Clay grimaced. “Talk about losing your touch. Piper’s got you on a tight leash these days.”

  Neil grinned. “One man’s leash is another man’s anchor.”

  “Exactly.” Poor sucker.

  “I meant that she keeps me grounded—never mind. How about my safe harbor?”

  Clay scoffed.

  “I’m happy, Clay. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, my friend.”

  “That’ll be the day.” Why did men fall for the happily ever after fantasy? Just about every SEAL he knew had been divorced, but it seemed like they always went back for more. At least Neil hadn’t actually married Piper.

  “Speaking of my special lady, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Flying to India to help you rescue her brother wasn’t enough?”

  “Help me rescue?” Neil raised a brow.

  “Well, practically.”

  “Whatever. This is way more dangerous.”

  “If it’s dangerous, I’m there for you.” What had his buddy gotten himself into now? Neil’s new security firm dealt mostly with providing bodyguards to celebrities. Didn’t seem like that should be such a scary gig. “What’s going on?”

  Neil’s jaw tightened. He looked deadly serious. “I want you to be my best man.”

  Clay stood frozen for a moment. Stunned. The ink was barely dry on Neil’s divorce papers. And what a disaster that marriage had been. It’d turned out Neil’s ex had been threatening Piper and had caused such a stink for him professionally he’d almost been court-martialed. As it was, Neil had been forced to resign from the Navy. And now he wanted to marry again? Was he just a glutton for punishment? “What’d you do, knock her up?”

  Neil yanked Clay by his T-shirt and shook him. His eyes narrowed with barely restrained violence. “You don’t ever disrespect Piper, you hear me?”

  What the—? Neil would fight him? Over a female? “Okay, okay.” Clay held his hands up in surrender. “I apologize, all right?”

  Neil’s menacing expression cleared as he let him go. “You’re lucky we’ve been friends for so long.”

  Clay had to take a deep breath to calm his temper. The unexpected assault had zapped him back in time to one of his earliest memories. His stepdad walloping him so hard he’d fallen back and slammed into a table. He’d told Clay that he’d upset his mama and warned that he better learn his manners or he’d get a real whoopin’.

  To this day Clay had no idea what he’d done.

  Now, he tugged his T-shirt down, smoothed out the wrinkles. Neil was right about one thing. They’d been friends for too long to let anyone or anything come between them. “If you still want me, I’d be honored.”

  Neil grinned and clapped him on
the shoulder. “Can’t imagine getting married without you there.”

  “Listen, Neil. No disrespect, but—are you sure?”

  Neil’s face took on a seriously love-struck look. “I’m surer than I’ve ever been about anything. And if you’re very lucky, someday you’ll understand.”

  Lucky? Like his mother had been lucky? Married to a bully for twenty-plus years? Or like most of his SEAL buddies? Cheated on, or coming home from deployments to find their wives had left them, and seeing their kids every other weekend? But Clay kept his thoughts to himself. “So, when’s this happening?”

  “Not until the fall. You know how women are. Piper wants the whole white dress scenario.”

  Clay nodded and took a swallow of his beer. Did he know how women were? Oh yeah, he knew.

  “Hey, I wanted to ask you something else.”

  “Don’t worry, there’ll be a stripper at your bachelor party.”

  “Um, not sure Piper would appreciate that, but that’s not it.” He turned and grabbed a cue stick and examined the tip. “I want you to come join my firm.” Finally, he met Clay’s gaze. “Your days of going on ops are limited. You could retire, move to Florida—”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “What are you going to do when you can’t deploy anymore? Tell me your body doesn’t complain after every mission.”

  Clay shook his head. “I just can’t see myself as a bodyguard to the rich and famous, man.”

  Neil’s mouth flattened.

  Great. He’d just insulted his best bud. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I know what you do is important. I just...don’t think civilian life is for me.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, I sure could use you.” Neil sipped his beer and studied the game already in play. “I’ll take stripes. Loser buys the next round.”

  “You’re on.” Clay chalked his cue, but his mind wasn’t on the game.

  What was he going to do when he could no longer be an asset to his team? What else was there for him in the Navy? He could train recruits, maybe. If a position opened up.

  If he had to go back to Talladega and work at the quarry again, he’d die a slow death. And babysitting spoiled celebrities would be equally soul-crushing. It was different for Neil, he supposed. Neil was in lo— He had a college education. If Clay wanted to teach recruits he would need a four-year degree, at least. As if that would happen.