SEALed With A Kiss: Heroes With Heart

by Low, Gennita

  “You’re a new uncle. Where’s my cigar?”

  Derrick smiled. “Hey, good idea. I’ll have to pick up a box to give out to the team.”

  “They didn’t have any bottled water.” Zoe extended the soft drink to Derrick and he smiled.

  “That’s all right.” He focused on Hawk. “I just got off the plane from Louisiana and came straight here. Couldn’t get an attendant’s attention long enough to get a drink before touchdown.” He popped the top on the drink. “Got a cup?”

  Zoe crossed to the bedside and returned with a plastic cup wrapped in cellophane. She unwrapped it, careful not to touch the lip.

  “I don’t normally drink anything with caffeine or sugar,” Strong Man said as he poured the liquid into the cup. “I’ll share with you,” he extended the can to Zoe.

  “No thank you.” Her stilted tone had Hawk studying her expression.

  Though shorter by several inches, Derrick gave the impression of being taller than he was because of the width of his shoulders and the thickness of his arms. His blond haired, blue-eyed good looks usually drew flirtatious smiles from the fairer sex, not the wariness Zoe exhibited.

  “I have to get back to my other patients,” Angela said. “May I speak with you for a moment out in the hall, Zoe?”

  Surprising him, Zoe slipped an arm around his waist and leaned against his side. It seemed natural to curve an arm about her waist in response.

  “Why don’t you have a seat and rest your knee? You and Ensign Armstrong can catch up while I stretch my legs,” she said as she rested a palm against his chest.

  With the softness of her breast pressing into his ribs, and the graceful curve of her waist beneath his hand, he experienced more than a little regret when she pulled away and left the room.

  His attention focused back on Derrick. The words, “What the hell did you say to her?” were on the tip of his tongue as Armstrong handed him the pop can and said, “Cutter didn’t mention he had a sister that hot.”

  A surge of irritation had him wanting to grind his teeth. “Brothers don’t normally think of their sisters in those terms.”

  “I guess not. Something weird’s going down here, LT. Ms. Weaver’s been looking at me like I’ve got horns and a forked tail ever since I got here. Had she not said you’d show up soon, I’d have already bugged out.”

  “What do you think is going on?” He asked.

  “Something’s going on with Cutter. They kept checking him.”

  Concerned, Hawk rose to his feet to stand next to Brett’s bed. It gave him a queasy feeling each time he saw the other man lying so still. He studied Brett’s features carefully and scanned the monitors, but didn’t recognize a change in their readings.

  Derrick joined him there. “All the way back, I kept telling myself he’d be awake by the time I got here. Jesus—I can’t believe he’s still out of it.” He raked a hand through his hair, his features creased with worry and frustration.

  A red spot on the unconscious man’s cheek drew Hawk’s attention and he turned Brett’s face to the light. A handprint stood out in stark relief.

  An instant feeling of outrage and anger surged through him. “Son of a Bitch! Someone’s slapped him.”

  Derrick stared at him, his lips parted in shock. “They think it was me.” His voice had a flat quality. “That’s why they were both looking at me like that.” He shook his head adamantly. “No way, LT. I’ve been Brett’s swim buddy since BUD/S. I’ve covered his back ever since. I wouldn’t smack him around, especially now. God! Look at him, he’s completely helpless.” Derrick’s features took on a pinched look.

  Hawk found it hard not to believe he was telling the truth.

  “Hold on. I’ll go get Zoe and Angela and we’ll talk this out.”

  “They should have said something to me, so I could set them straight,” Derrick said, anger beginning to overtake his defensive tone.

  Hawk stepped outside the room. Angela and Zoe stood at the end of the hall their heads close together. They started walking toward him when they saw him.

  “Derrick and I need to talk with you and Angela,” he said, holding the door wide. The two women filed back into the room. “We’ve just noticed that someone has left a handprint on Brett’s face.”

  “I’d only arrived five minutes before you got here,” Derrick jumped in; his attention honed in on Zoe like a heat seeking missile. “I know that would be enough time for me to have done it, but I didn’t. I swear to you, I didn’t. Cutter is my swim buddy. We cover each other’s backs. We always have. We may grab ass around, and punch each other, and do the male bonding thing, but I wouldn’t lay a hand on him now that’s he’s—like he is.” Two bright spots of color burnt in his cheeks and he nearly vibrated with outrage.

  “Was there anyone out in the hall when you first arrived, Derrick?” Hawk asked.

  “No. The nurses were down at the nurses’ station, doing whatever they do there. I didn’t see anyone else around. I just came in and went up to the bed. Cutter didn’t respond when I talked to him, so I knew he was either drugged, or he still hadn’t come around. I was about to go out and ask the nurses at the station about him, when Ms. Weaver came in and filled me in on what was going on.” Derrick’s attention swung from Zoe to Angela and back again. “I didn’t touch him.”

  “Chill out, Derrick,” Hawk said as he laid a hand on the other man’s shoulder. He had to calm him down or he’d allow his defensiveness to cloud the issue. This situation pertained to Brett not him.

  “There are security cameras on this floor aren’t there?” he asked Angela.

  “Sure.”

  “Show me where they’re placed.”

  Hawk and Angela went out into the hall.

  Zoe remained beside Brett. The anger and disbelief she had first experienced on discovering her brother had been assaulted had passed. Fear now lay like a cold stone in the pit of her stomach.

  Had the man outside of Brett’s apartment really been watching her? Was it possible that man had been Derrick Armstrong? All she’d seen was blonde hair. Had someone really been in the apartment or had it been her imagination? There’d been no sign of anyone when she’d returned with a security guard to check the apartment. No sign of any disturbance.

  If it wasn’t Ensign Armstrong who had left the mark on Brett’s face, it had to be someone else who had access to the base. That left the rest of his SEAL team buddies, and anyone else who applied for a visitor’s pass.

  It was a slap this time, what might be done next? Anyone who would abuse a comatose patient was capable of anything.

  Leaning over the railing of the bed, she laid her head down on the pillow next to her brother’s and soothed the red marks on his cheek with her fingertips. Tears ran across her nose into the pillow as the feelings of pain and grief she had been suppressing welled up to overwhelm her. What was going on here? Who would want to hurt her brother?

  “Hey, Ms. Weaver. We’re going to take care of this. No one’s going to mess with Cutter again,” Derrick said from behind her, a panicky edge to his voice. “We’ll find out who it was, and then, he’ll be toast, I promise.”

  She kissed Brett’s cheek and moved to hold him. His forehead lay warm against her cheek, his beard coarse beneath her fingers as she stroked his face. The life and vitality he exuded when conscious made it painful to see him as he appeared now. He had taken on the lifelessness of the cardboard cutouts candidates sometimes posted during elections.

  “Please wake up, Brett, please,” she pleaded.

  The door behind her opened and closed softly.

  Drawing on her shaky reserves, Zoe fought to suppress her emotions and stemmed the flow of tears. She had wiped her eyes and blown her nose by the time Hawk returned with Ensign Armstrong and Angela in tow.

  His limp didn’t dilute the air of command Hawk wore so effortlessly. She drew comfort from knowing he had taken charge of the situation.

  He gave her a searching once over then said, “Angela
has alerted security. One security camera has a straight shot at anyone getting off the elevator. The one at the end of the hall will have caught anyone coming from the stairwell from the other direction. The stairs stay locked, so they more than likely got off the elevator, but we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “I’ve seen the stairwell door propped open several times late at night. I assumed it was one of the staff slipping downstairs for a smoke.” She folded her arms against her waist to cover her trembling. “I’d like Brett to have a thorough examination to make sure the welt on his cheek is the only injury he’s sustained.”

  “I’ve notified Captain Connelly, and he’s on his way,” Angela said.

  She nodded. “I appreciate it.” She turned her attention to Derrick Armstrong. He had seen her at her most vulnerable. She had been eyeing him like a criminal. She supposed that balanced things out in some way.

  “You never said what your sister’s baby was.”

  “A boy,” he answered, his features tense.

  “How much did he weigh?”

  “Four pounds.”

  “He was tiny.” She forced a smile to her lips she hoped looked natural. “What did they name him?”

  “Adam.”

  Her attention shifted to Hawk. “You have a namesake.”

  “Yeah, how ’bout that.”

  She moistened her lips. “I don’t believe you hurt my brother, Ensign Armstrong.” Her throat tightened with more tears and she swallowed.

  “Thanks.” Derrick shifted from one foot to the other. “I suppose, if I’d been in your shoes, I’d have been suspicious too.”

  “As soon as we get a look at the security tapes, we’ll know who was in Brett’s room before Derrick arrived,” Hawk said. “Then we’ll deal with them.”

  “I doubt security will let you see the tapes, Lieutenant,” Angela said.

  “We’ll see.”

  His tone had Zoe taking a good look at him. His pale gray eyes looked flat and cold. The leashed fury she read beneath his features sent a shiver down Zoe’s spine. She had thought he’d be scary when angered. She hadn’t guessed the half of it.

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  Clara met them at the door as they entered the house, her features tense with worry. “Turner called half an hour ago. Sharon started hemorrhaging. He rushed her to the hospital. They’re doing a C-section. They don’t know about the baby yet.” she raked her fingers through her bangs. Two suitcases sat next to the front door.

  The news hit Zoe like a physical blow. She closed her eyes for a moment as instant tears threatened. The hits just kept coming.

  “I’ve got a flight out in an hour. I’ve called a cab because I wasn’t sure you’d be back in time to take me to the airport.”

  “I can take you now, Mom.”

  “No, I’ve called a cab. You’ve been with your brother for most of the day and you’re tired.” At the sound of a car horn outside, her mother turned and looked out the window. “That’s my ride.”

  Clara’s composure started to crumble as she reached for the suitcases.

  “I’ll get them, Clara,” Hawk said and swung a bag up in each hand.

  Zoe opened the door for him then turned to embrace her mother. She fought back her tears as Clara withdrew to look into her face. “It’s going to be all right, Mom. Sharon’s young and healthy. And the baby will be fine.”

  Clara searched her pockets for a tissue to wipe her face. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave Brett. I shouldn’t have to choose between them.”

  The events that had taken place at the hospital and Brett’s apartment ran through Zoe’s mind. “Sharon needs you more right now than Brett does. He has me and Hawk to look out for him. He’ll be fine.”

  “I know. You’re right.” She stuffed the tissue back in the pocket of her slacks. She focused on Zoe her look sharp, intent. “Don’t go back to the apartment until the locks are changed. Promise me you won’t.”

  “I promise.”

  “You have to pace yourself. You can’t go all out like you’ve been doing. You can’t try and take my place. Promise you’ll try and rest some. If you get sick too, I won’t be able to deal with it.”

  “I’ll take it easier, I promise.”

  “I’ll make sure she does, Clara,” Hawk said as he entered the house. “The team will take up the slack.”

  A horn blew from outside again. “I have to go.” Clara gathered her purse and a carryon bag.

  Zoe hugged her once more. “Call me as soon as you get there.”

  “Turner may call before I make it there. Call me on my cell if he does,” Clara said.

  Zoe nodded.

  Clara embraced Hawk. “I know you’ll take care of both of them while I’m gone.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Clara broke away from him and went out the door, closing it behind her.

  The ticking of the clock in the kitchen sounded loud in the silence that followed her departure.

  “You didn’t tell her, did you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t. She was already torn between them. Had I told her what had happened it would have just made it impossible.”

  “You did the right thing.” He ran his hand down his jaw where dark stubble had begun to show. “Look, I’m going to fire up the grill and burn us some meat. We both need some food.”

  She had never been less interested in eating, but she recognized the need to feed her body. She hadn’t eaten since before noon and it now hovered close to seven. She forced a smile to her lips. “I put some chicken in a marinade this morning before going to the hospital. I’ll fix a salad and nuke a couple of potatoes while you incinerate the meat.” She headed for the kitchen.

  He gave a short bark of laughter. “It was only a little crispy around the edges last time.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Uh-huh.”

  “I got distracted for a minute.”

  “By what?”

  His gray gaze swung away from her. “I refuse to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”

  An ache built in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. She forced a light teasing tone, “That means it was some Baywatch beauty within seeing distance of the yard. Maybe Mandy next door.” Wishing it had been her he found distracting was like trying to touch the moon. The need to be held, comforted, loved, for just a few minutes, for forever, rose up in her like a physical pain.

  *

  Hawk shook his head. How could she be so completely oblivious to her own beauty? He’d been distracted by Zoe sitting out on the back stoop looking into the sun as it disappeared over the horizon. Bathed in pale peach light, her skin had taken on such an iridescent softness he’d had to fight hard not to reach for her. Just thinking about it brought a heavy feeling to his groin.

  “It wasn’t Mandy,” he said. He couldn’t say more. They were going to be alone together for two or three weeks, if not longer. He had to be careful.

  He frowned. Zoe attributed his distraction to someone else too easily. She didn’t see herself as a desirable woman because of her leg. Even though the single men in the team continued to flirt with her, it never occurred to her they could be serious. Her attitude made things easier for him from the standpoint that if she didn’t take any of them seriously, she wouldn’t get involved with one of them. And if she didn’t get involved, it wouldn’t kill him to see her with someone else. God, he had it bad.

  Why couldn’t he learn? He couldn’t give her what she needed any more than he could Veronica. Not until he left the team. He didn’t need to get involved with a woman who already fought against being drawn back into the “the life”. It would be a recipe for disaster for them both.

  Zoe bent to get the salad fixings from the vegetable bin at the bottom of the refrigerator. He studied her rounded derriere and his palm tingled with the urge to run his hand over the shapely curve. Her mother had just walked out the door. He had promised
to look out for her. If he moved in on her now, it would be a betrayal of her trust. He had told the men that getting involved with Zoe was not a good idea and here he was aching to do just that.

  They needed to get out of the house.

  “We could go out, if you don’t feel like cooking,” he suggested.

  Zoe straightened the vegetable bags clenched in her hands. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I don’t mind fixing a salad and nuking some potatoes. But if you’d rather—”

  “What about pizza or Chinese?” he suggested.

  She bit her lip, “I don’t want to leave in case Turner calls.”

  “I have my cell and can have the call forwarded, but on second thought—” He retrieved a pad and pencil from the counter close to the phone. “Tell me what you want and I’ll order. You can go lie down until it gets here.”

  She shrugged. “Curry Beef, fried rice, and an egg roll,” she said as she put the vegetables back in the refrigerator.

  Surprised, he said, “I didn’t know you liked spicy stuff.”

  “I love hot food, particularly curry.”

  “Next time I barbecue I’ll fix my hot sauce to put on the meat.”

  “Hot sauce on a charcoal briquette does not sound appetizing.” She flashed a smile, but worry dulled the affect.

  He frowned at her in mock anger and tried to hide the concern that tightened the muscles of his shoulders and neck. If something horrible happened to her sister and the baby, how would Zoe handle it? How would he handle her? His stomach churned. He didn’t want just to be a shoulder to lean or cry on. Another brother. Hell no!

  But he couldn’t be anything else either. It was too opportunistic. Once they knew Sharon and the baby were all right—There couldn’t be a once. He couldn’t get involved with Zoe. She didn’t want it, he didn’t want it. Damn this was hard.

  He forced a bantering tone as he said, “You have to give me one more shot at the barbeque to redeem myself. Flamethrower chicken, tomorrow night, hot off the grill at six o’clock.”

  “All right.”