Rescued by a Hot SEAL: Hot SEALs

by Cat Johnson

  The President grasped Grant’s hand before he moved to say goodbye to the Anderson family, telling them all to stay and enjoy the refreshments for as long as they liked.

  Then his entourage whisked him away to his other official presidential duties, which left Grant and the Andersons alone once again.

  Grant had just shoved what tasted like cucumbers on white bread with some sort of greenery decorating it—dill maybe—into his mouth when the family came at him again.

  He swallowed the bite as he realized the family wasn’t done with their gratitude yet. But this time the attention felt different. Less overwhelming.

  Maybe meeting the leader of the free world had been what rattled his nerves and it wasn’t seeing Jen again face-to-face in this formal setting.

  Grant felt more relaxed now that the official portion of the visit was over. Now, he could shake his head and laugh as Mr. Anderson insisted he wanted to buy him dinner.

  “Come on. Don’t tell me this food is going to satisfy a man like you.” Mr. Anderson swept his hand at what remained of the assortment of tiny tea party foods.

  “A man like me, huh?” Grant laughed, not delving into exactly what that could mean. “And it’s very kind of you to offer, but no, thank you. All of this has probably tired Jen. I’m sure she isn’t up for—”

  Her hand on his arm stopped Grant mid-sentence. “I’m fine. I’d really like if you came to dinner with us.”

  “That’s it then. It’s settled. You’re coming to dinner and it’s on us.” Jen’s father looked particularly satisfied as he made the decision for all of them.

  Grant shook his head. “No, I’ll come to dinner but I can’t let you pay—”

  “We insist,” Mr. Anderson said firmly.

  The man’s wife nodded her agreement.

  “Please let us. We want to thank you and dinner isn’t nearly enough to do that. You saved our baby. Brought her back to us.” Mrs. Anderson appealed to Grant with kind eyes filled with emotion.

  He found it harder and harder to say no. He realized he couldn’t fight them. Not their good hearts. Not their sincerity. Not their overwhelming outpouring of gratitude.

  Grant drew in a breath and finally said, “Okay. Thank you.” But knowing DC prices, Grant silently vowed he’d be ordering from the cheap side of the menu and drinking water to keep the bill down.

  Mr. Anderson smiled wide. “Good. We’ll have fun. Honey, call the restaurant and tell them we’ll be four instead of three.”

  Resigned this was going to happen, no matter how uncomfortable their generosity made him, he glanced at Jen and found her gaze already on him. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He had no reason to doubt her firm reply. What the hell. He might as well go and enjoy the evening with these nice people. “Okay.”

  She smiled and it reached all the way to her eyes, keeping his stare on her for probably longer than was appropriate.

  When he did bring himself to tear his gaze away from Jen, he was relieved to find her parents were too busy to notice him. Her mother was on the phone changing the reservation and her father was in the process of writing something down.

  Mr. Anderson moved toward Grant, a piece of paper in his extended hand. “This is the restaurant. Our reservation is at seven. I’m assuming you came in your own car but we can drive if you need.”

  Grant took the paper and saw a name and address scrawled beneath the imprint of the Presidential Seal. He shook his head. “It’s fine. I drove. I can meet you there.”

  “Good. Good.” Mr. Anderson glanced at the pad and pen he still held in his hand and then up. “You think they’d mind if I took these as a souvenir?”

  “Dad!” Jen glanced at Grant and then back to her father. “Don’t steal the stationary.”

  Grant laughed. “No, I think it would be fine. Expected even.”

  “See. He says it’s fine. Honey, put these in your purse.” Mr. Anderson's grin of sheer delight as he handed his acquisition over to his wife was enough to raise anyone’s spirits, even Grant’s.

  It was easy to forget all his woes when with Jen and her parents. They represented what happily ever after was supposed to look like. And Grant had played a part in keeping their family’s future on track by helping get Jen back.

  He wanted what they had for himself. The pure joy that could be found in even the most simple of things when a man was surrounded by his family.

  To the depths of his very soul he knew he wasn’t going to have that with Bethany. He couldn’t retire to please her any more than she could accept who he was. That what he did was so much more than a job. It was his life.

  It was time he remembered that and stopped trying to please everyone at the expense of himself. He was doing a piss poor job at it.

  He’d go out to dinner and make the Andersons happy. And when he got back to his room later he’d sign the divorce papers. That would make Bethany happy.

  That would be more than enough happy for him for one day. But he knew eventually, somehow he’d have to move on to making himself happy again too.

  Grant glanced at Jen and saw her laugh at something her father said to her mother. Their smiles were contagious. He found himself smiling too and realized something.

  It might not last but at the moment he did feel happy. Genuinely so.

  When exactly had that happened?

  Chapter 10

  Jen woke up breathless in the dark hotel room, her heart pounding from the nightmare.

  Her parents were right in the next room. To get to them all she would have to do is go through the connecting door, which she knew had been left unlocked, but she’d never bother them because she’d had a bad dream.

  And as far as this dream went, it hadn’t been all that bad. Not like the nightmares that had plagued her at home.

  It had started out the same, but it ended differently.

  Though she suffered from the same hunger and thirst and fevered delusions she’d lived through in real life during her captivity, and relived in her unconscious nightly since her rescue, she didn’t wake while still in the midst of the horror.

  The dream tonight played out as it had in real life. Grant was in it. She felt his hands on her through the blanket. Heard his voice saying her name. Telling her she was safe. Saying that he was there to take her home.

  This ending was a vast improvement and made perfect sense given that today she’d been able to put a face and a name to her rescuer.

  Jen had a feeling Grant was going to haunt her dreams for a long time, for all sorts of reasons.

  Why did he have to be so . . . so perfect that he didn’t even seem real.

  Dinner had only reinforced his perfection and she wasn’t even taking into consideration his physical attributes—which were considerable.

  Grant was polite and well spoken. He listened to her father’s long rambling stories like they were the most interesting thing he’d ever heard.

  He pulled her mother’s chair out for her so she could sit. Her mother had actually blushed.

  At the end of the meal, he tried to pay the bill. When her father wouldn’t hear of it, Grant thanked him and her mother with genuine and humble gratitude.

  And the few times that their eyes met—it was like a hive full of honey bees were buzzing inside Jen’s body.

  She hadn’t gotten much information from the FBI or the President about Grant or the team who’d rescued her but from the media covering her story she knew this—he was one of the elusive and elite legendary SEAL Team Six.

  Which meant even if he didn’t live in a different state and have a job that routinely sent him around the world, he still wouldn’t be interested in her, a teacher and aid worker who couldn’t even manage to not get kidnapped while traveling through a city.

  Her heart was still pounding but she wasn’t sure it was from the dream that had startled her awake. She’d been having palpitations since she first walked into that room in the White Hou
se and heard his voice again.

  All it had taken was two words—Hi, Jen—and there had been no doubt in her mind it was him. Her savior. The man who had shielded her with his very body until the helicopter came to get them. The man who had literally carried her away from danger.

  They had a full day of sightseeing planned for tomorrow. Her parents had decided to do the whole tourist thing while they were in DC so they’d planned on three days here. She should rest, but who was she kidding. That wasn’t going to happen tonight.

  Wide awake and with her mind racing, Jen gave up on pretending she would be able to sleep more tonight. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  She glanced at the clock. It was only eleven. She could wander downstairs. The walk might tire her out. Would the bar still be open? Maybe she could get a nightcap. That could help put her to sleep.

  It would be even better if they were still serving food. She’d been too nervous to eat very much dinner seated opposite Grant at the table.

  She was acting like a teenager, nervous on a first date. The only difference was she was far from a teenager and tonight had been by no means a date.

  Jen was under no delusions that it had been about anything more than Grant being polite and humoring her parents.

  But wouldn’t it have been nice if it had been more?

  And if they’d been alone . . .

  Rolling her eyes at herself, Jen stood. While she was being ridiculous she might as well go find some food.

  When she got down to the lobby she found good news. There was a hotel bar and it was still open even at this hour. Even better, there was a late night food menu.

  The bad news was she was in a hotel bar in the middle of the night about to eat alone and probably look pitiful while doing it. At least she felt pitiful as she sat at the table, alone, studying the menu overly hard so she seemed busy and not lonely.

  “Fancy meeting you here.” The deep timbre of the voice that was becoming increasingly familiar to her had Jen freezing with the menu in her hand.

  She was afraid to look up, thinking this could still be part of her dream. That would make sense since when had she ever hung out at a hotel bar alone in the middle of the night?

  Never.

  Yup. Definitely a dream.

  But as long as it was a good one, she figured she might as well roll with it. If Grant was in it, it could only get better from here.

  She forced herself to turn and glance up and there he was, looking like the man of her most recent fantasy.

  But by all indications he was real. At least his hand felt real enough when he laid it on her shoulder.

  She bit her lip hard and felt the pain, one more indication her dream theory wasn’t holding water.

  “Hi. I didn’t realize you were staying in this hotel,” she said for lack of anything else coming to her mind.

  “Same here. You’re father never mentioned where you were staying—which is surprising.”

  “Considering he never stops talking?” she asked.

  Grant’s smile transformed his face from good looking to breathtaking. “No, he’s great. You’re lucky to have him. May I join you?”

  When she could process thoughts again, Jen said, “Sure. Of course. I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d see if there was any food.”

  He nodded. “Perfectly understandable. You’ve got some past meals to make up for.”

  Little did he know it had been less hunger and more thoughts of him that had kept her from going back to sleep.

  “Yeah, I guess. So you couldn’t sleep either?” she asked.

  “Actually I was in my room reading over some documents I’d brought with me. I figured I needed to clear my head before trying to sleep. And a drink wouldn’t hurt.” Grant glanced toward the bar where one lone bartender served the few people still hanging around. “You decide what you want to eat?”

  “I had my eye on the chili cheese fries.” She pressed her lips together. “As you can see, I’ve abandoned all semblance of healthy eating.”

  “Don’t worry. You deserve some junk food. You good with that to drink?” He glanced at the yet untouched seltzer water and lime in front of her beading with condensation as it sat on the cocktail napkin.

  Being near Grant made her so nervous she felt light-headed. Almost dizzy. At least she knew if she passed out he could carry her easily enough.

  She probably could use a shot of whisky to steady herself. Instead she reached for the glass and nodded. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  He stood. “I’ll put the order in for your fries with the bartender and be right back.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once he was gone, she felt like she could almost breathe again . . . almost. But she knew once he returned the nervous flutters would begin again in her belly and she wouldn’t be able to eat her order of chili cheese fries.

  Darn. She’d been really looking forward to those fries.

  Chapter 11

  He should have fought the damn evening traffic and driven back to Virginia tonight. Then he wouldn’t be sitting across from Jennifer Anderson, staring into eyes that made him want to say things, do things, that were completely inappropriate for so many reasons.

  But the alternative was to go back to his room and stare at the divorce papers instead and that might just make him insane.

  So he chose inappropriate over insanity.

  He truly was deep in avoidance mode . . . and maybe that was okay for a while. Long ago, way back in BUD/S, he’d learned to do whatever he had to to survive.

  If sipping on his second whisky while watching Jen pick at her french fries was what he needed right now, then so be it.

  It was no big deal really. He couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t sleep. So they both ended up in the hotel bar in the middle of the night. No biggie. Just two people talking and passing the time.

  And if he believed his own lies, he’d be in good shape. As it was he didn’t even come close to believing that.

  Every time Jen laughed it raised his spirits and made him smile. Everything she said and did he immediately held up in direct comparison against Bethany. It was wrong and pointless yet he couldn’t stop himself.

  His soon to be ex-wife did not hold up well in the stark contrast with this woman who emitted everything good in the human race. Charity. Empathy. Giving and kindness.

  “So, I’m new at the late night bar scene. What do we do now?” Jen asked.

  She glanced around the bar. When her eyes hit on one couple making out pretty enthusiastically, she blushed and yanked her gaze away.

  “Make small talk, I guess," he said to alleviate her embarrassment, even if his mind had gone to bad places thanks to her question. "You first. What made you decide to go to Africa?”

  “I was there to teach, but that was only because that was the first position I could get. I really want to get into one of the NGOs that work with landmine education or drug reform. Oh, sorry, NGO means non-governmental organization.”

  Grant nodded. “Mmm, hmm. Thanks. I’m aware.”

  She cringed. “Of course, you are. Sorry."

  He waved away her apology. "No need."

  "Anyway, there’s such a need for landmine education. There’s a whole generation of amputees that could be prevented with it. And the drug use is rampant in that region. If we could just save the children from getting hooked on khat in the first place—” She finally took a breath. “I’ve only been talking about me. I feel selfish. Tell me about you.”

  Jen was the least selfish person Grant had ever met. Every word she spoke proved that right down to using the present tense when talking about working with an NGO. In spite of what had happened to her last time she went to the continent she was excited to go back to continue her work.

  He acknowledged her request for information about him with a shrug. “Nothing much to tell.”

  She twisted her mouth up. “I don’t believe that at all.”

  He smiled. “Sorry. It’s the
truth.”

  “I see I’ll have to pry it out of you.”

  “Okay. Do your worst.” He took another sip from his glass, the whisky and the woman making him feel more relaxed than he had in a long time.

  “So let’s see . . . are you married?” she asked.

  Grant opened his mouth and closed it again.

  He was trying to come up with a good answer to that question when Jen shook her head. “I shouldn’t ask personal questions like that. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, it’s all right. Um, it’s just complicated.”

  “That’s a Facebook relationship status, you know.” She smiled.

  “Yeah, I’m aware. Sadly it’s also my life right now.”

  Jen shook her head. “You don’t have to talk about it. Seriously.”

  “No. It’s okay. It might help. I haven’t spoken about it to anyone.”

  “No one?” she asked.

  “Nope. Not since I came home and found the divorce papers.”

  Jen’s eyes widened. “Grant, I’m so sorry.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “It’s okay. Shouldn’t have been a surprise really. Things have been going in that direction for a while now. Coming home from a training to discover she’d moved out while I was gone and without telling me was a bit of a shock but the rest, not so much.”

  “Oh, Grant.” Her eyes grew impossibly wider.

  “Wait, there’s more. She took my dog with her and won’t give him back.” He laughed, rolling his eyes at himself for confessing much more than he’d intended. “I’m pretty pitiful. Right?”

  “No. Not at all.” She shook her head. “So what are you going to do?”

  “I signed the divorce papers. It's over. We’re over, she and I. I can’t live my life as I want to and make her happy at the same time. And to make her happy, I’d be miserable. Thank God we never had kids. At least there’s no custody to decide.”

  “Humph. You should ask for custody of the dog.”

  He warmed at Jen vehemently taking his side. “Eh, I’ll likely let her keep the dog. She’s right. How could I even take care of him? While I’m active duty I can’t count on being there every day to let him out and feed him.”