The Honorable Warrior: Navy SEAL Romance

by Kimberly Krey

  A rash of boos broke out over the crowd.

  Sophia shook her head. “Neither Tom nor Adam posed a flight risk, both were accused of the same low-level offense, yet Adam is the only one who sat in jail. Why? What was the single deciding factor: Adam wasn’t financially able to come up with the money.

  “What else can we call this besides punishing the poor? People…” the camera zoomed in, focused on the moisture building in her brown eyes. The passion burning within her. “This. Is. Wrong. Now, you might ask why he didn’t take care of this issue during his four years as District Attorney. Good question. The answer is opposition. More opposition than he could count. He was told that no matter how hard he pushed or how much he tried, it would never happen. But then came Chicago’s District Attorney, Mike Oalgate.”

  The crowd cheered again. “Mike Oalgate showed us that it can be done. And we’re positive that this time around, people are going to listen. And that Nicolas Vasco will successfully stop this injustice in its tracks.” The cheers grew louder.

  Blayze had agreed with some of the prior speeches a time or two. Enough to allow for a head nod or even a short round of applause from his spot behind the scenes. But this… listening to Sophia sparked a fire in him. Had him grateful he was able to, in a roundabout way, support the Vasco’s cause.

  Chatter picked up among the back room even. Head nods, cheers, and high fives among the tech crew.

  “Ladies and gentlemen… let’s make it better!”

  The screen panned out to show attendees coming to their feet. Nodding. Clapping. Throwing fists in the air.

  Pride welled within Blayze as he put his hands together. This was the America he and his brothers fought to maintain. These were the ideals Doug and so many others had fallen for. And she—Ms. Sophia Vasco—was a woman he could proudly stand behind.

  As she brought her speech to a close, another thought came to Blayze. Sophia wasn’t just a person he could give his support to. She was also a woman he could lose his heart to, if he didn’t watch out.

  That thought stayed with Blayze throughout the remainder of the day. A day filled with more shoulder rubbing, hand shaking, and “support lending” than he’d witnessed in a lifetime. Prior to the press conference, Isabella, Mr. Vasco’s campaign manager, called to run through a test-conference with her, posing one tough question after the next.

  When it came time for her to step before the cameras, Sophia straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and responded with all the confidence of a woman who might someday own the world.

  Save a few baffled moments of adoration—yes, he was a sucker for a strong woman— Blayze stayed trained on his purpose: to detect any potential danger or foe. By the end of the day, the green, glowing exit sign looked like a tempting fresh water river in a dry desert storm. A set of double doors awaited them, promising a glorious release from the demands of the day.

  “My feet are killing me,” Sophia mumbled as they shuffled down the only quiet corridor they’d encountered that day.

  “I can only imagine,” Blayze said, glancing down to eye her heels. Not that he needed to. He’d memorized her outfit from the silk of her deep blue blouse, to the nude-colored heels that strapped around her slender ankles—only because he had needed to keep track of her among the crowd.

  “I bet you’re exhausted,” she said. But as soon as he caught her gaze she shook her head. “Scratch that. This was probably a cake-walk compared to what you’ve been through over the years.”

  Blayze grinned. He was used to comments like that. Of course, the answer was yes—compared to a day on unfriendly soil, water, or air—any day was a cakewalk. But spending the day with Sophia definitely had been a new experience. “Like you say,” he said, “each of us plays an important part. I’m not fit to make the sort of contribution you and your father make, but I’m grateful for what you do.”

  She slowed as they neared the exit, stepped back to lean against the wall. A dim light glowed overhead, casting the most beautiful glow over her skin. Or perhaps that was just her. The natural glow of a woman like Sophia.

  “It’s kind of an awkward thing to express to someone at random, at least for me, but I do sincerely appreciate your sacrifice in serving overseas. Most of us will never know what you faced. But whatever it was… I thank you for being willing to do it. Truly.”

  His heart hammered as she held his gaze. The truth was, Blayze was star struck after seeing her in action today. After hearing what she stood for, and what she planned to do about it. He wanted to tell her that—all of it, but the words wouldn’t come. At last he nodded, gulped, and spit out a simple but heartfelt reply. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 7

  Sophia pulled out her laptop on the way to the hotel. More often than not, she’d stay at the place hosting their final convention, but her father had insisted she and Blayze stay at one across town instead.

  Darkness seeped in from every angle, countered only by fast-moving headlights as they dashed across the inner roof of the SUV. It had been a productive day. Sophia had been greeted by several new supporters. Many she’d heard of but never had the chance to meet. She pulled a stack of business cards from the small slot in her leather case. Once the laptop glowed to life, she tapped out the name, email address, and phone number of each new contact.

  While she insisted on keeping all names in alphabetical order, Sophia also used her own method of color-coding, something that would indicate—at a glance—the occupation of each. Trusted prosecutors, neighboring district attorneys, political candidates and philanthropists. If they’d already mentioned a donation amount, something she’d indicated on each card, Sophia would put the contact in bold, then place them on a second list where she’d send invoices for the tax-deductible donation.

  Blayze remained quiet on the other side of the SUV, scratching pencil marks on his mad-scientist looking notes. Sophia took a moment to watch him. He looked nice today in all black, his biceps and chest muscles testing the limits of that collared shirt. She’d noticed more than a few women checking him out through the day. A few even asked her about him. But none was quite so anxious to meet Blayze as Leona. The mere recollection made her cringe.

  “Hey,” she said, leaning slightly over the middle seat that separated them. “I’m sorry about Leona tonight. She’s a little…” She died off there as Blayze’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Who’s that?”

  “My friend,” Sophia said. “The one who was running her hands up your arms like you were up for auction.”

  “Ah.” Blayze tipped his head back. “Yeah, I was a little surprised by how … forward she was.”

  Sophia studied his face as he spoke of her. If Blayze liked women like Leona, he most likely wouldn’t be interested in a woman like Sophia. Not that she should be thinking along those lines, she reminded herself. “There’s the whole woman’s movement, of course,” Sophia said. “But Leona’s not interested in equality. She’s more focused on turning the tables. Allowing women to behave badly now to even up the score.”

  A buzz sounded from the cup holder where her phone rested. She glanced down to see a text glowing bright on the screen. Speak of the devil.

  Leona: Hey, chica! Give me Mr. Wonderful’s name and number when you’re done with him. My body needs guarding too.

  Leona should have stumbled in on him doing push-ups this morning—without his shirt. Talk about home improvement. Sophia glanced over in time to see Blayze avert his gaze. Chances were, he’d read the text; he was trained to watch for any signs of danger, after all. It wouldn’t exactly be snooping if he were keeping surveillance. She tapped a few keys to clear the text, not bothering to reply.

  “So, what did you think about Ms. Vasco today?” Roman asked from the front seat.

  Sophia felt her face flush. Sure, the man was proud of her, but she wasn’t one to go fishing for compliments. If Blayze had wanted to say something about her speech today, he would’ve already done so. Still, her eyes drifte
d over to catch his reply.

  “She was incredible,” he said, eyes set on her.

  Sophia’s heart raced so hard it felt like it was chasing its own beat. And there it was—the familiar spark of heat that flickered when they slowed down and talked.

  Blayze cleared his throat and glanced up at Roman. “It restored my faith in politics, to be honest.”

  “Knowing the Vasco family has done that for me and Tiff too,” Roman said. “My wife and I keep telling these guys to leave the legal side behind and run for President of the United States. Heck, I’d vote for either one of them in a heartbeat.”

  Sophia put her face in her hands. “Bless you, Roman, but if you keep on going my head will grow so big you’ll need a crane to get me out of here.”

  While Roman laughed off her comment, Sophia geared the conversation toward her father and how things went on his end. A topic that continued until they arrived at the hotel.

  “Thanks again for your help today, Roman,” Sophia said as she gathered her things. “And tell Tiff thanks too for being willing to give you up this week. Oh, and for watching Chico for me.”

  “Will do,” he assured. “I’ll see you guys in the A.M.”

  Blayze had already stepped out of the Rover and was standing beside the brightly lit entrance in the roundabout. Purposely not opening her door, per her earlier request. She watched him for a minute. If she didn’t know better she’d say he was sulking. Shoulders hunched slightly, hands in his pockets as he thumped the curb with his shoe.

  As she climbed out of the Rover, Sophia replayed what he’d said about her speech. ‘She was incredible.’ Even in memory, it sent a thrill straight through her chest. He’d also said it had restored his faith in politics, which had to have more to do with the overall day. But still…

  Blayze followed her through the entrance and into the elevator, where he stood in the opposite corner. The air between them had changed; like that weird, first-date vibe. Stilted conversation. Clammy hands. Heart a little fluttery. She wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  Nothing, Sophia. Just ignore it. She was probably imagining it anyway.

  The idea almost made her laugh aloud. She definitely wasn’t imagining it. She was a grown woman after all; she knew chemistry when she felt it.

  The bell dinged and the doors rolled open. A vase of purple lilies stood on the small table in the lobby. “Oh, those are so beautiful,” she said, rushing over to smell them. The scent was more earthy than floral, due to the greens mixed in the bunch, but it was still as pleasing as it was familiar. “Lilies were my mom’s favorite,” she said.

  A soft smile pulled at Blayze’s mouth as he swiped the keycard over the sensor. “Coral roses,” he said as he pushed open the door. “That was my mom’s favorite.”

  A vision of Linda’s casket came to mind. “Like the ones at her funeral?” She could barely believe the man had so recently lost his mother. She made a mental note to keep that in mind during their time together; he was in the thick of the grieving process.

  Blayze nodded, stepping inside first while holding the door for her.

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching for the light switch. She slipped her purse onto the massive twill rug in the entryway. “I have two favorites. I love daisies and yellow roses. I’ve tried really hard to like one over the other but I can’t. It’s like deciding which parent you love more—impossible.”

  “Excuse me while I do a thorough check of the suite.” Blayze gave her a polite nod before shifting into an entirely different stance, gun in hand and aimed before him. It reminded her that Blayze would be on duty the entire time they were together, night and day. It was sure to get tiring for him.

  She glanced over the room. Even among the many she’d stayed in, this penthouse was impressive. The furniture in the place was minimalistic. A lot of straight lines and neutral tones. It allowed the embellishments to pop. On the dining room table, a tall red vase held even taller twigs with colorful, gold-edged leaves. The side table held a matching arrangement. But most impressive of all, along the back of the penthouse where the lights were out, floor to ceiling windows took up the entire wall.

  “All clear,” Blayze said, coming from the hallway he’d entered moments ago.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, striding slowly across the white, crystal quartz floors. “Wow. Look at that view.”

  Blayze engaged the extra door locks then followed her to the spacious area before the window. Two chairs that looked more like footstools stood side-by-side, but neither Sophia nor Blayze took a seat. He brought his face just inches from the glass, a world of mysteries whirling in those blue eyes of his.

  “I’ve only been in a place like this one other time,” he said quietly, almost reverently. “I swear, looking out at the city lights… it puts me right back there.”

  Sophia froze in place, surprised that he was opening up, fearing that it was one of those spells that could vanish in a puff of smoke if she disrupted it. Still, when he didn’t elaborate, she spoke up. “How old were you?”

  “Seven. No, eight I think because Chanze had been teasing Jazmin about her braces, and she didn’t get those until she was twelve.”

  A laugh snuck out. “I can’t imagine how much fun it would’ve been to grow up with siblings.”

  He nodded. “My mom brought us all. Out of nowhere, too. We were running all over the place. Hopping on the couches, exploring one room and the next. My mom, though, she walked right over to the window—looked just like this outside.” Blayze paused there, glanced over at Sophia.

  No more than a foot of space stood between them, a distance made smaller as she leaned on one hip. And there was that scent of him again. Spicy cologne that reminded her of a massive forest, one she could get lost in if she let herself.

  He studied her face for a bit, seeming to gauge whether or not he should continue. She gave him a small, reassuring nod, feeling the weight of his memory in the room. So heavy, it made her chest ache.

  He licked his lips, averted his gaze, and then the spell was gone. “Anyway,” he said with a shrug. “We better get some sleep.” With that, Blayze strode toward the pile of luggage that had been left by the door.

  She’d been so close to scratching another surface of Mr. Blayze Brockton just then. Which was encouraging really, considering the two had only just met. Still, her heart reeled from the effects of being so near. Near to him physically, and near to his secrets too. She couldn’t help but think she’d been given rare access to a side of Blayze people seldom saw, and she wanted more.

  A door closed, letting her know she’d seen the last of him for the evening. “Buenas noches, Senior Misterioso,” she mumbled. Mr. Mysterious indeed.

  As beat as she was, Sophia would never fall asleep without winding down. A shower would be a good start, but what she craved most was a small glass of something bubbly and a good sitcom to take her mind off the list of work she had ahead of her. Perhaps tomorrow night she’d ask Blayze if he’d like to join her. As for tonight, she was on her own.

  Blayze kept the light off in his bedroom and strode back to the sight at the window, a continuation of the view from the dining area. At once he was standing beside his mother again while Chanze and Jazmin raided the snack pantry.

  “How long are we going to stay here, Mom?”

  She traced a finger down the penthouse window. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “As long as we feel like it. Daddy gets to stay in a penthouse with his secretary. I get to stay in a penthouse with you guys. What do you think about that?”

  “And watch scary movies?”

  “Sure, baby. And watch all the scary movies you want.”

  Blayze hadn’t known it yet, as young as he’d been, but that night marked the beginning of the end. The moment his mom saw fit to declare her independence from a marriage where his father had been less than faithful from the start.

  He could hardly believe he’d almost shared that moment with Sophia. What had he been thinking? Si
nce when did he feel the urge to share a sob story with anyone, let alone a stranger?

  But then her words filtered through his mind. Stories she’d shared about herself, her past, in those speeches. They’d affected him. Made him feel like he knew her in a way. That he could trust her. And while that might be true, there was no need to burden her with crud from his past. He’d been hired to protect her for crying out loud.

  He nodded, setting his mind back on course. Sure, Sophia was captivating. She had a gift for connecting with people, but that didn’t mean he could forget himself. For the remainder of the time he worked with her, Blayze would remember to keep things professional. Besides, Roman had gotten hold of that list for him. May as well take a look at it before hitting the sack.

  Chapter 8

  “That’s four days down and one to go,” Sophia’s father said from the other end of the line. “Then you get to relax for a long weekend.”

  Sophia propped the phone up to her ear with her shoulder while reaching for the clasp on her heel strap. “I know, Papa. I’m so excited.” Her left shoe hit the floorboard with a thud, followed by the right. “I bet Mr. Brockton is excited too,” she said, tossing the quiet man a smile.

  Blayze, who was already busy scribbling at one of his mind maps, shot her a small grin in acknowledgement, those blue eyes reflecting the oncoming headlights like sapphires.

  “Oh, no doubt,” her father agreed. “He probably deserves an extra tip for all the crap you give him for trying to open doors and carry luggage.”