Her SEAL Protector

by Jillian Burns

  When he came, he let out a faltering breath, his muscles strained and he held her so tightly. Neither of them said a word, but she could feel the love in the act. This wasn’t sex for sex’s sake. This was making love, whether he admitted it or not.

  The next time she woke up, the sun was streaming through her bedroom window. She could hear birds chirping, but she knew before she opened her eyes that the other side of the bed was empty.

  She sat up and scanned her small apartment, listened for sounds from the kitchen or bathroom, but all was profoundly quiet.

  Clay was gone.

  19

  CLAY LIMPED DOWN to the doughnut shop a few blocks from Gabby’s apartment building and ordered two coffees and a whole box of breakfast sandwiches, muffins and éclairs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

  His ribs hurt like hell, and the cut on his thigh from the broken window maybe should’ve had a couple of stitches, but he’d just wrapped it up in some gauze nice and tight. The pain would keep him alert. Maybe bring him clarity. And right now, more than anything, he needed clarity.

  Or maybe he needed a gym with a punching bag. That usually cleared his mind real quick.

  His thoughts were all jumbled and he couldn’t seem to form coherent sentences. Everything was all...too much. He’d seen some scary things, but he’d never been as terrified as when he saw that knife at Gabby’s chest.

  And even more terrifying, he’d almost broken down last night making love to Gabby. Terror, and rage, and—whatever else he’d been holding in below the surface for weeks now—had threatened to boil over. She didn’t need that from him. She’d needed a protector. And he hadn’t even been able to do that.

  He paid for the order and headed back.

  When he let himself in with her key, she was sitting on the sofa, his duffel in her lap. She was cradling his bloody jeans against her and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

  “Oh, Clay, there’s so much blood.” She held out the jeans to him as if he didn’t already know they were a mess.

  He set the breakfast on the coffee table, gently took the pants from her, stuffed them back in the duffel and set it aside. “It looks worse than it is.”

  She started shaking her head, looking confused. “How did you know? How are you here? You shouldn’t be away from your base.”

  He moved around the table to sit beside her. “Shh, it’s fine.”

  “But what if they call you and— Isn’t that, like, AWOL or something?”

  He put his arm around her, hoping she missed his wince. “I’m on medical leave.”

  She finally looked at him. “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. The important thing is, it’s over now. You got him, Gabby. Pretty impressive move there, getting out of that hold.”

  She beamed up at him. “You saw that, huh? You taught me that move, and it worked.”

  “But, Gabby.” He scowled. “Once you got away you didn’t run. I told you to run.”

  “And leave you to fight off that creep by yourself?”

  “Gabby, I’m a US Navy SEAL. I may not be good for much else, but I can fight.”

  She cupped his face in her hands, caressing his temple, his jaw. He closed his eyes, wanting to lean into her touch. “I would never leave you to fight alone. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t try to help you?”

  Uh, pretty much any other person on the planet.

  People didn’t stick their necks out for him. His team had each other’s backs. That’s what grunts like him did. But in this case, he wasn’t supposed to be the one protected. He blinked at that thought. Remembered his mother standing by while his stepfather backhanded him across the face. And instead of rushing to shield him, she looked at him as if she was so disappointed in him for making her husband mad.

  He’d hated those looks worse than the beatings.

  Gabby’s hands ran down his shoulders to rub his arms, bringing him back to the present. She framed his face again. “And what do you mean you’re not good for much else? How can you say that? Clay, you’re an incredible person. Disciplined, selfless, brave.”

  Clay blinked and looked into Gabby’s eyes. She really believed that. Not only did she believe he was incredible, she’d risked her own safety to defend him. His fellow SEALs did that, that’s what SEAL brothers did. But Gabby didn’t have to. And yet, she hadn’t even hesitated. Even after the way he’d left things with her a week ago.

  Why would she do that? Unless she really did have feelings for him?

  A yearning welled up in him. A need buried so deeply he hadn’t even known what it was. But now that he recognized it, he felt it like a gaping hole. A pit he’d been trying to cover ever since he could remember. He wanted...needed someone to care. Someone to pray for his safe return. Someone to believe in him. Someone to have his back, no matter what.

  He looked at Gabby again and he saw her. Saw how her eyes shone with concern. For him.

  Was it too late to have more? Had he ruined his chances?

  Before he lost all control of his emotions he put his arms around her and pulled her to him, grimacing as his cracked ribs complained.

  But she didn’t hug him. Slowly, she pulled out of his arms, sat back and dropped her gaze to her hands clasped in her lap. “Why did you come here?”

  Why was she asking? Did she want him to leave? “Neil told me you fired your bodyguard.”

  She met his gaze, a hint of rebelliousness in her eyes. “Why should that matter to you?”

  “Because it’s— I was right, wasn’t I? You weren’t safe.”

  “My safety isn’t your responsibility.” Her tone was flat, dead.

  He felt it like a physical pain. Like an imbecile, he’d left it too late. Lost his chance with her. He eased back against the couch, holding his ribs. Maybe they could start again. He’d take friendship. For now. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” He slid a glance over to her. She had a strange look on her face.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “You’re in pain. You cut yourself breaking in the window, but why are you on medical leave?”

  He hesitated. This is what wrecked a lot of soldiers’ marriages. Facing the possibility of a partner’s death every time they deployed took a lot of strength. Which—he realized—Gabby had in spades. “Got too close to a bomb blast.” At her gasp, he rushed on, “Only a concussion and some cracked ribs. I’ll be back to active duty in a week.”

  “Oh, Clay.” Her beautiful lips trembled as she put a hand gently on his rib cage. “And you still kicked in that window and fought so hard to...” Her eyes shone with tears.

  Hope filled him. He pounced. “You do still have feelings for me.”

  She sucked in a breath, distanced herself by standing and going to look out the front window. “But you said my feelings weren’t real. That I just had Savior Syndrome.”

  “And you said I didn’t know myself as well as I thought. I think you were right.”

  Shrugging, she folded her arms across her chest and turned back to him. “Maybe it was Savior Syndrome. But, now I tried to help save you. So maybe we’re even. Maybe we can be friends.”

  He gritted his teeth. “We’re not just friends, and I can prove it.” He got to his feet and took her into his arms, lowering his mouth to hers. He kissed her. Deep, ravenous kisses. “I don’t deserve those feelings you have for me, but they’re there.” He put his lips on hers again. He wanted all of her. Her body. Her heart.

&nbs
p; But she pulled away. “Why don’t you deserve them?”

  He stroked her long hair, trying to come up with a way out of this conversation. “I just never...did.”

  “Clay.” That slightly scolding tone. “How can you believe that?”

  He supposed if he wanted to have something more with her, something...real, then he’d have to be real.

  Finally, he met Gabby’s gaze. “One of my earliest memories is of my mom’s boyfriend backhanding me across the face.”

  Gabby gasped. “Oh, Clay.”

  “After my mom married him, seemed like I got the belt, or the back of his hand every day. I ran away once. But I just got it worse when they found me and brought me home.”

  “I can’t believe your mother let him do that.”

  He shook his head. “After I went to work at the quarry it mostly stopped. Guess he figured I was earning my keep then.”

  She rested her forehead on his shoulder, but he couldn’t hold her right now. “My stepfather did me a favor.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Did you know the drop rate for BUD/S—that’s SEAL training camp—is around 80 percent?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No.”

  “What they called Hell Week, I called a week. I’m a freakin’ US Navy SEAL.” He raised his brows. “But I haven’t been home since I joined the Navy more than ten years ago.”

  “Clay.” She caressed his cheek. “You may think your stepfather’s treatment was the reason you made it through training, but that’s not true. It’s only because of you. You turned abuse into something good.” She started pressing soft kisses along his jaw. Her arms had come around him, her fingers playing at the nape of his neck. Her gardenia scent surrounded him. Emotion welled up, feelings he hadn’t let himself feel since he was a boy.

  He pulled back, still holding her face between his palms. “I need you. I can’t lose you. You see me, Gabby. I don’t know how this whole love thing works. I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it. But when I woke up in that hospital in Kirkuk all I could think about was you in the hospital in Lucerne, and how you were there, holding my hand.”

  She blinked back tears.

  “You think surviving the kidnapping made you brave, but it’s the other way around. You survived the kidnapping because you’re brave. You’ve never been afraid to go after what you really wanted. Even after you were threatened with death, you had the courage to not just go to that conference, but to laugh and twirl around a hotel room in pure joy.

  “I want to be your kind of courageous, Gabby. And I want you to help me. You can have whatever parts of me that are worth anything. My heart, my soul...”

  He dropped a brief kiss on her lips, took her hand from his neck and placed it on his chest. “Feel that heart pounding? It’s never pounded like that for any other woman. Never constantly thought of a woman before either. No woman has ever risked her life for me. I love you, Gabby.”

  Her face crumpled as she smiled and cried at the same time. “And I love you, Clay Bellamy.” She hugged him hard, and he welcomed the pressure on his ribs. Wanted to hold her forever.

  She glanced up at him. “We can make this work, we’ll do whatever it takes. I can look into banking jobs in Virginia Beach, if you...if you wanted—”

  He grinned. “I want. But your career is important. We can do long-distance for a little while. I’ll be relegated to desk duty in only a couple of years—”

  “That reminds me. Did you know there’s an organization for veterans called Charlie Mike?”

  Clay frowned. “No.”

  “Veterans who still want to make a difference, go wherever there’s a disaster or help is needed, they build homes, do amazing things.”

  Clay blinked. “Did I mention you’re amazing?”

  She gave a slow seductive smile. “Clay?”

  Busy kissing her throat, he grunted, “Hmm?”

  “Shall we...Charlie Mike?”

  * * * * *

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  Wild for You

  by Debbi Rawlins

  1

  ERIN MURPHY TURNED onto Main Street and nearly had heart failure. How could a small, isolated Montana town have changed so much in three months? Blackfoot Falls didn’t have a single traffic light, but the new steak house’s flashing pink neon sign could probably be seen from Mars. Early-bird specials written with black marker on colored paper covered half the window. But she could live with those, misspellings and all. They lent to the charm of the quirky town.

  She drove past the newly opened motel that had been under construction when she’d first discovered Blackfoot Falls. Erin would’ve preferred the modern building wasn’t there, but she had taken it into consideration when she’d made a deal with the mayor, so no sweat on that front.

  A small bakery now occupied a formerly empty storefront. Nothing flashy, so that wasn’t too bad. Next to it, the Full Moon Saloon was new, too, but it had a cool vibe to it that could probably work in her favor.

  Maybe.

  Whatever.

  She’d make it work. She had to.

  The whole reason Erin had returned was to fix something she’d failed to do the first time around. Now she had another problem to solve...before the director had a stroke.

  The independent film for which she’d been scouting locations was on a tight budget. She’d counted on those buildings being empty. It was a lot cheaper to stage than change.

  All she could do for the moment was breathe. And hope the mayor had made allowances for the deal she’d made with Erin before leasing out the buildings. Sadie Thompson was a reasonable woman who’d understood that the group’s pockets weren’t deep, and a modest fee was better than nothing. Quite a few scenes would be shot around the quaint little town, later, in December.

  Luckily, Erin made it to the other end of Main Street with
out encountering any more surprises. She checked into The Boarding House Inn with its restored turn-of-the-century rooms and interesting woodwork. Thank God nothing had changed since her last visit.

  She dumped her duffel bag in the narrow closet and sent off a few texts. Thirty minutes ago she’d been looking forward to a much-needed nap. Now she wondered if it would be better to go snap some pictures of the new storefronts and send them to the director right away. Jason would pitch a fit no matter what, but at least she’d be giving herself more time to smooth things over.

  On the other hand, she wouldn’t be at her best, being this sleep deprived. She stared out the window and tried to relax. She smiled, though, seeing the cheesy Halloween decorations on some of the buildings.

  Her cell rang, and it was Lila, of course. Even though Erin had just texted her friend that they’d talk later.

  “So, you’re in Blackfoot Falls. That was fast,” Lila said. “When are you going to see him?”

  Erin knew him meant Spencer Hunt, the reclusive, unreasonable, ill-tempered rancher who had thrown her off his property the last time she was here. He was also hot as hell. But Erin had never let a man’s looks excuse him for being a jerk.

  “This afternoon.” Erin yawned. “After I take a nap.”

  Lila snorted. “We’ve been best friends since third grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re faking a yawn? You just don’t want me coaching you on how to approach Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious.”

  “For one thing, coaching and butting in are not synonymous, and second, you’re losing your touch because that yawn was real. I left Wyoming at 4:00 this morning.”

  “I was up early myself. We were shooting by 5:15 and freezing our behinds.” Lila lowered her voice. “Jason’s on a tear, cussing out everyone within hearing distance. Nothing’s going right. The film is now officially over budget, and half the crew is ready to mutiny.”