SEALed With A Kiss: Heroes With Heart

by Low, Gennita

  The forty-five automatic’s muzzle looked like a cannon. And sounded like one as the tango fired.

  Wood splintered from the door facing close to Hawk’s face. He swung the submachine gun up and pulled the trigger in a controlled burst. Red blossomed across the tango’s chest, the force of the bullets throwing him back against the wall. His body bounced off the surface then crumpled to the floor. Footsteps pounded above.

  What a clusterfuck. They were sitting ducks in the hallway. Hawk sprayed the hall light with bullets killing it, then sprinted down the hallway to the front door. The timer in his head counted off the seconds, thirty-five—. He leveled a short burst of fire at the doorknob and it flew open. He struggled through the opening.

  Bullets peppered the road and dogged his steps from above, ricocheting off the asphalt around him. Muzzle flashes exploded like sunspots in front of him as his men laid down suppressing fire.

  Another shot of adrenaline coursed through his veins making Cutter’s body seem like a featherweight as he zigzagged towards the cover of the crumpled wall he’d left five minutes before.

  A foot away from safety, the sky lit and his ears popped. The ground heaved throwing him up and forward. Cutter’s body flew through the air like a rag doll.

  The world came crashing down.

  Chapter One

  ‡

  “Hawk.”

  Zoe Weaver’s heart lurched at the masculine voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder, her gaze searching the group of casually dressed naval personnel who took up most of the backyard and deck. Several men called out greetings and converged on the tall man balanced on crutches just inside the wooden gate.

  Hawk’s midnight dark hair stood out against the lighter toned heads that surrounded him. His high forehead, sculpted cheekbones, and angular jaw were a study in pride and control as well as his Native American heritage. She had only a moment to admire the bone deep masculine beauty of his features before his pale gray gaze homed in on her. Shock reverberated from her midsection to the bottoms of her feet. Her heart rate kicked into a gallop.

  Realizing her prolonged stare could be misconstrued; she turned her attention back to the tray of hamburgers she was replenishing. Had she known he would be coming to the Marks’ barbecue, she’d have made some excuse to avoid the gathering.

  Just his presence made her hands tremble and her stomach to somersault. A burst of resentment tightened her shoulders. She took a deep breath, drawing in the scents of chlorine, suntan lotion, and grilling meat as her rapid-fire heartbeat continued to thump against her ribs.

  The man was six foot, four inches of Navy Brass through and through. He’d probably bleed Brasso if he scraped his elbow. The analogy wasn’t true, but it served to remind herself of whom and what he was. A Navy SEAL. Through and through.

  Since meeting him six days earlier, she’d found it hard to push aside the impression he had made, or the anger she experienced because of it.

  “I screwed up,” had been the way Hawk had put it. Without any details. She understood injuries happened in combat, but he made no bones about taking the blame for her brother’s condition. Like a good team leader.

  To hell with that.

  She wanted answers, not military platitudes.

  She couldn’t direct her rage at a situation, only at the man claiming responsibility. A likely military ploy.

  Every time she went to the hospital and saw her brother hooked up to tubes and wires, she experienced another surge of emotion, grief and fear.

  The strongest of them, fear.

  She needed to know what had happened to Brett.

  She scanned the small clumps of people scattered around the yard eating and drinking. Langley Marks, her host, had finally abandoned his position at the grill and joined some of the men at the volleyball net set up in the corner of the yard. Others sat at one end of the deck in the shade, watching the game and calling out encouragement to the players.

  Under any other circumstances, this trip to California would have been a treat. The weather remained beautiful, the temperatures a moderate seventy degrees. Palm trees loomed over the wooden privacy fence encircling the yard. Hibiscus shrubs, hugged the deck, their big fuchsia blossoms a splash of color against the lightly stained wood that matched the sand-hued stucco on the house’s exterior walls.

  High-pitched squeals coming from the pool drew her attention. Her mother and sister sat poolside with Trish Marks, encircled by a ring of female supporters, wives and girlfriends of the men present.

  The deep worry lines etched into her mother’s face were a testament to her own beliefs. Getting involved with a man in uniform was just asking for pain. A father and possibly a brother were enough to give for her country.

  The muted tones of a child’s voice broke into her reverie. She looked around the food-laden picnic table in search of the source. Limping around the corner of the table, she spied a small discarded sandal peeking out from under the tablecloth. She kneeled and pulled up the edge of the plastic to look beneath.

  Pale blond ringlets obscured the child’s face as she danced a bathing suit clad Barbie doll, minus its shoes, across the decking and inserted her, legs first, into a pink, plastic convertible.

  “Katie Beth what are you doing under there?”

  “Playin’.”

  The simple logic of the child’s answer had her shaking her head. Ask a dumb question.

  “Come out, baby.”

  Katie Beth looked up briefly before going back to her make-believe car journey. Pale blue eyes and a rounded jaw, much like her own, held the Weaver stubbornness she recognized all too well. “Don’t want to.”

  “Why not, sweetheart?”

  A pale pink lip protruded. “Grandma and mommy keep crying. I don’t like it.”

  With a weary sigh, she rested her forehead against the edge of the table. “May I come in with you?”

  Katie Beth cocked her head as though considering the request. “Okay.”

  She crawled beneath the table with her niece. With a four year old’s trusting affection, Katie Beth climbed into her lap and cuddled back against her. Zoe rested her chin against the blond curls and breathed in the baby powder and sun block scent that clung to her.

  “Grandma and mommy are very sad,” she explained as she adjusted one strap of the hot pink bathing suit over the fragile curve of the child’s shoulder.

  Katie Beth’s voice dwindled to a whisper. “Uncle Brett is sick.”

  “Uncle Brett was hurt while doing something very important, sweetheart.” Her voice sounded husky and soft around the lump in her throat. “He wanted us to be safe. He wanted other little girls and boys like you to be safe, too.”

  “Mommy said I can’t go see him.”

  “That’s right. But—” her voice wobbled, and she cleared her throat. “Once he gets better, he’ll come home and you’ll get to see him then.”

  A beat of silence followed, then with her normal precocious bluntness Katie Beth asked, “Is Uncle Brett going to visit God like Grandma Rose?”

  “No.” Her arms tightened around the child as she fought back her own fear and uncertainty. “He’s going to come home to us.” She sought something to distract the child. “Would you like to be my helper, Katie Beth?”

  “Okay.”

  “We have to help Mommy and Grandma feel better. You know what helps me feel better?”

  Katie Beth shook her head.

  “Getting your hugs makes me feel better. Why don’t you go give Grandma and Mommy a hug, so they can feel better, too?”

  “Okay. I’ll take Barbie so she can hug them, too.”

  “I think that would be a good idea, sweetheart.”

  Katie Beth wiggled free and crawled from beneath the table, the doll clutched in her hand.

  Some of the tension that drummed at Zoe’s temples relaxed and she rested her forehead against her bent knee.

  “Hello there, little bit.”

  She stiffened at the sound of Hawk�
��s distinctive deep voice.

  “What happened to your leg?” Katie Beth asked.

  “I hurt it, but the doctor’s are making it all better.”

  Zoe crawled forward to peek from beneath the table just as the child lunged forward and hugged Hawk’s good leg.

  His eyes widened in surprise, and after a minute hesitation, cupped the back of her head. Her blond ringlets curled between his long fingers. A smile touched his lips. Katie Beth jerked away as quickly as she had hugged him and ran through the guests toward her grandmother.

  Hawk’s attention settled on Zoe as she crawled from beneath the table and settled back on her heels. She took in the crutches and the bulk of the knee brace clamped around his leg. The denim of his cut-offs hugged his muscular thighs. A white tee shirt stretched across the broad width of his chest, delineating the shape of a well-toned torso. A strip of gauze covered a four-inch section of his arm just above his elbow. Bruises already turning yellow peppered his legs and arms. How had he gotten those injuries? The rest of the team seemed free from any.

  “If you’ll have a seat I’ll fill you a plate and bring it to you, Lieutenant.”

  One black brow quirked at her stiffly formal tone. “No thanks, though I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.”

  She nodded and flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder. Conscious of his regard, her limp had never seemed more conspicuous as she traversed the distance to the coffee pot and back, returning with a Styrofoam cup. “You prefer it black, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Instead of going to sit at one of the tables with the other men, he hiked a hip on the deck railing, propped his crutches beside him, and reached for the cup.

  “That knee will swell if you stay on it too long,” she warned him.

  “I know. Brett told me you were a physical therapist. How long have you been practicing?” He sipped the coffee.

  “Two years. I can get you a chair.”

  His smile flashed white against the swarthiness of his skin. “If I allow you to get me a chair, you’ll disappear as soon as I sit down.”

  His words fired her cheeks with heat and her temper at the same time. She held her tongue to keep the peace in front of the other guests.

  “Your mother said your sister was returning home with Katie Beth tomorrow.”

  She nodded. Where was he going with this topic of conversation?

  “I want to help, if you’ll let me.”

  “How?”

  “I know you and your mother are staying at a motel, which is pretty expensive. I also know that Brett’s one bedroom will be pretty cramped. I live off post and can offer you both a place to stay until Brett is well.”

  Surprised, she studied his expression. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Because Brett is a member of the team and part of our family. When you place your life in another man’s hands you get pretty close.”

  Her brother had placed his life in this man’s hands and had nearly been killed. Looking into the steady gray gaze she couldn’t level that accusation at him, though the thought bounced around in her head. She didn’t wish Hawk ill. She just wanted her brother well again.

  Part of what he said was true, though. Many of Brett’s letters home held news of Hawk and the other men in his SEAL team. He spoke of them as though they were brothers—especially Hawk.

  “I’ve spoken with your mother about it and she’s agreed, but only under the condition that you agree as well.”

  Her attention swung back to her mother. The financial strain of staying at a motel had been worrying her. But what about the strain of living under the same roof as Hawk? With this sorry ma’am it’s classified crap hanging between them and the attraction she fought to suppress.

  Hawk would probably be embarrassed if he knew. She didn’t want to dwell on the humiliation she’d face if he discovered it. She’d been through that before.

  “You could make sure I don’t overdo my PT. With our training we’re used to pushing ourselves. As I understand it, I can’t do that with a soft tissue injury.”

  “No, you can’t.” More at ease in a professional capacity than a personal one, the tension in her neck and shoulders eased. “If you push too hard before you have a chance to heal, you’ll be back to square one.”

  “Then it’s good I’ll have you there to offer me advice. What do you say, Zoe?”

  How was she supposed to hide her attraction for him, when he seemed determined to draw her out?

  “When you’re accustomed to living alone, even one extra person can be too many, Lieutenant. Perhaps you should give this idea a little more thought. You don’t really know us very well. You’d be taking strangers into your home.”

  “And though your mother has met me before, I’m a stranger to you.”

  She hated the cowardice that had her jumping on any excuse to avoid getting closer to him. “Yes, you are.”

  A smile laced with charm quirked one side of his mouth upward. “Uncle Sam trusts me. Don’t you think you could trust me too?”

  She folded her arms against her waist. “You don’t really expect to get anywhere with that line, do you, Lieutenant?” she asked, her tone dry.

  He chuckled, the sound deep and masculine. “I couldn’t resist. My motives aren’t entirely altruistic. I’ll be at PT once a day. I can adjust my schedule to coincide with the times you and your mother visit with Brett at the hospital. I can’t drive and I know you’ve rented a car. We could ride in together and you could share my car and turn the rental back in. It’ll save me from taking a bus or taxi or calling one of the men for a ride.”

  She took his empty cup, careful not to touch him. “More?”

  *

  Hawk shook his head. Damn she was stubborn.

  Was she as determined to hold onto her antagonism toward him as she was in denying the magnetic sparks that arced between them? He watched the swing of her long hazelnut ponytail as she went to the garbage can and tossed the cup away. That heavy swath of tawny hair naturally streaked with blond seemed to beckon provocatively “follow me”.

  The trim, tight curve of her hips and buttocks drew his attention. A vision of him cupping her rounded derriere in his hands lanced through his thoughts with the impact of a cruise missile. His mouth went dry and his breathing grew short.

  Why was he leaving himself open to frustration and rejection? She obviously wanted no part of him, and being Brett’s sister, he couldn’t pursue her anyway. Brett would expect him to protect her, not try to coax her into bed. The only reason he’d offered them a place to stay was to look after them. Wasn’t it?

  The slight hitch in her stride didn’t bother him. Brett had told him about the accident that had nearly cost her a leg. She was a fighter, stubborn and strong. He recognized those qualities in her already. But Brett hadn’t said anything about her obvious distrust of men. He hadn’t told him how delicate and lovely she was, either. The slender self-assured young woman who stood before him looked very little like the gangly twelve year old child with freckles across her nose in the photograph Brett carried in his wallet.

  To give her time to think about his offer, he changed the subject. “You’re very good with your niece.”

  A small smile, the first he had seen thus far, peeked out. “She’s been around for a while, so I’ve had a little practice. She’s unhappy because she hasn’t been allowed to see Brett. Sharon thinks it would be too upsetting for her even if she could.”

  He read the strain in the faint, bluish shadows beneath her eyes and the lines around her mouth. The numerous hours she spent with her brother at the hospital were already wearing her down.

  “When are you going back to the hospital?”

  “At seven-thirty. They’ll let us stay till nine, but won’t let us stay the night.”

  “You have to rest sometime, Zoe. Brett will need you once he wakes up.”

  If he woke up.

  He could see the words punch through her thoughts as they d
id his.

  “I’d like to go with you,” he added, drawing her unusual pale blue gaze back up.

  He noticed the dark blue ring around the lighter blue of the iris, the sweep of dark brown lashes, and the unblemished texture of her complexion. Would her skin be as smooth on other parts of her body?

  Wayward parts of his anatomy responded to the thought.

  Hawk cursed beneath his breath. Focus. Complete the mission. Get Zoe and Mrs. Weaver settled in his house and look out for them until Brett recovered and could do it himself. That’s what Cutter would do if something happened to him—if he’d had any family left to look out for. An ache settled beneath his breastbone for a moment. He twisted his thoughts back to the task at hand.

  “I’ll have to drop Mom, Sharon, and Katie Beth off at the motel. Sharon needs to rest and so does Mother.”

  “What about you, Zoe?”

  “I’m doing Okay.”

  The stubborn tilt to her chin brought a smile to his lips. He hadn’t seen much resemblance to Brett until then.

  A squeal and splash from the pool caught her attention. She straightened and looked toward the water.

  “Doc’s in the pool with Katie Beth and Langley’s children. He won’t let anything happen to them,” he said.

  He thought she might be beginning to relax with him when another smile tilted her lips.

  “Katie Beth swims like a fish. She’s also fearless. He may find he’s bitten off more than he can chew.”

  “It must be a family trait. I’ve never seen Brett back off of anything, either. And from what he’s told me, you can hold your own.”

  Her smile died as quickly as it had blossomed and her expression grew shuttered. “I hope you’re right, Lieutenant. Brett’s going to need everything he’s got to come back from this. So will the rest of us. Please excuse me, I’d better check on my sister.’”

  He swore beneath his breath as she limped across the deck and down the steps.

  “How about a beer to drown those flames,” Chief Petty Officer Langley Marks said as he held out a bottle dripping with condensation. His quick grin slid into a smirk. “Don’t take it to heart, Hawk. The lady hasn’t been any more receptive to any of the other men.”