Hot SEAL, Single Malt (SEALs in Paradise Book 9)

by Kris Michaels

  Silas leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Room 6364. Call if you need anything?"

  "I'll be fine. Go." She watched him walk to the corner and disappear. She checked the signs at the corner and glanced at the room numbers in front of her. She chuckled and headed back the other way. They’d been going in the wrong direction. She slowed as she passed the hallway Silas had walked down, looking to make sure the man turned at the right passage. She stood on her tiptoes and just managed to see him over a few people milling in the halls. She watched to make sure he headed out the correct way. She caught a movement in her peripheral vision. Two nurses were walking toward her. "Excuse me, room 6364?"

  The older of the two nurses motioned down the hall. "See the nurse's station?"

  A.J. nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

  "I believe it is the one just past the station. Evens are on this side." She looked to the other nurse who nodded confirming her directions.

  "Thank you." A.J. headed down the hall. She was anxious to see Gunner and terrified at the same time. How could Gunner ever forgive her?

  She slowed as the numbers hit sixty and then sixty-two. A.J. slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside. Although it was a semi-private room, Gunner was alone. She slid through the door and made her way over to his bed. He was so pale. She stood beside his bed quietly, not wanting to disturb his sleep.

  She wanted to touch his hand, to give him comfort, but what would he want? She worried her bottom lip and clutched the bed’s aluminum rails. He'd asked her to leave last night. Silas laughed when she told him. "Well, of course he did. What man wants the woman he fancies to hear him being sick?"

  "I didn't mean to do it, Silas. I worked all damn day on that meal. I tried so hard." She broke into tears and blubbered like a baby. Silas had held her and let her cry.

  "Kiddo, that man cares for you as much as you care for him. Don't let this little hiccup set any distance between you." Silas rubbed her back as he spoke.

  "I don't know. He was so sick and..."

  "Hush. When I told him that you'd offered to sell back your shares of the Walrus, he was pissed. Told me to make sure I didn't let you sell. He cares. Trust me, he cares."

  A.J. stood quietly beside his bed until her feet hurt. She memorized the angles of his face and admired the thick full lashes that rested on his cheeks. She knew women who would spend a fortune for lashes that long. His beard framed his lips. She moved to trace them but stopped short of touching him. He'd die of embarrassment if she ever told him, but he had a perfect cupid's bow upper lip and a full bottom lip. His smile. She glanced around the room pretty sure she wouldn't be the recipient of that smile for a long time. If ever again. Damn, she could sure mess things up.

  The nurses who came in and checked Gunner's vitals were polite and professional. All reminded her she could pull the chair closer to the bed, but she declined. A.J. stood away from the bed when they came in and returned to her spot when they left.

  When they weren't in the room, she'd couldn't resist thinking about the times she'd taken a good thing and turned it into dust. Marcus. That was the biggest question mark in her life. Maybe if she'd tried harder? She played the months of their relationship through her mind. No, she'd done everything she could. He tried to isolate her and make her feel bad about herself. She cared for the man and changed as much as she could, but there was a line she wouldn't cross. When she reached it, she broke up with him. There was nothing wrong with ending a relationship that wasn't working. Her father, her lawyer, and her sisters all told her that. Of course, that was after Marcus had tried to kill her.

  A.J. took a deep breath and shook herself out of the past. The smells and sounds of the hospital were probably what caused her maudlin thoughts. The last time she’d been at a hospital she’d been a patient, not a visitor. The time displayed by the clock on the wall surprised her. It appeared she'd been lost in thought for longer than she'd realized. Interesting how a hospital room could induce reflection. Her eyes lingered on Gunner. He was an amazing man. Silas and his late wife had raised him well. She'd be lucky if he still talked to her when he woke up.

  Glancing at the clock again, she conceded she probably needed to call an Uber and find a hotel room. Silas was covering the bar tonight. Staying close to the hospital made more sense than battling traffic in the morning. The sign on the wall said visiting hours were over in fifteen minutes. She'd wait until then and come back in the morning. Gunner wanted to see her, and although Silas assured her Gunner didn't want her to sell back her shares in the Walrus, that didn't mean the wide birth he'd given her before wouldn't come back into play. That would pierce her heart. She had fallen for the big Navy SEAL. Hook, line, sinker, fishing pole, boat, and ocean.

  Gunner drew a deep breath and moved. He blinked and searched the ceiling as if trying to orient himself. His eyes flashed around the room, bouncing around until they landed on her. She gave him a tremulous smile and whispered, "Hi." She waited for him to say something. Anything.

  He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

  A.J. blinked rapidly trying to get her brain to understand those words. "What do you have to be sorry about? I'm the one who gave you food poisoning."

  Gunner smiled and reached out, hesitating when the IV pulled on his hand. A.J. stepped forward and placed her hand in his. His fingers curled in and gently engulfed her hand. "I'm sorry that I ruined dessert." He smiled at her and made a valiant attempt at a wink.

  Oh. Had he seen the lingerie hanging behind the bathroom door? She shook her head. It didn't matter. "Can you ever forgive me?" As she asked, she focused on their joined hands. He tugged on her hand to gain her attention.

  "I forgave you the second I realized what happened. Your dinner was amazing. What you tried to do for me, was...hell, it was beyond anything anyone has ever...look I'm going to botch this up. Let me just tell you straight out, okay?"

  A.J. braced herself mentally for whatever Gunner needed to say. She lowered her eyes to their joined hands and nodded.

  "Hey, look at me." She lifted her eyes to his again. "There you go. I'm not sure what is going on between us, Amanda Jean Ericson, but I do know I have some deep feelings about you. Deeper than I've ever felt for anyone else. I don't know what to do with that revelation. I know I'm going to mess up occasionally. It is in my DNA. Just ask Pops." He smiled when she laughed. "But I figure I'm going to try, because what you did for me last night? You tried to give me a perfect dinner, and it was amazing."

  A.J. rolled her eyes. "Until it wasn't."

  "Until it wasn't." He agreed with her. "In the future when I try, and I fall short, and it isn't amazing, are you going to get mad and walk away from me?"

  She shook her head vehemently. No, she wouldn't. That wasn't in her DNA.

  "Then give me some credit, okay? I sent you away because I didn't need an audience. Was I trying to salvage just a little of my pride? Oh, hell yeah." A.J. chuffed out a bit of a laugh at that comment. "So, no more beating yourself up, yeah?"

  "I'm so sorry." She stared at those deep brown eyes that were so dark against his pale skin. Even the tan he had couldn't disguise how ill her meal had made him. The dark brown of his beard made his pallor even more noticeable. "You were so sick."

  "Because I ate enough to feed two SEAL teams. That'll teach me for being greedy." He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "I know telling you to stop worrying about it is probably useless, but let’s get this behind us, okay?"

  "I can do that if you let me take care of you when they release you from here. I've been told my chicken and dumplings are phenomenal and many people have consumed them with no ill effects." She glanced at him under her lashes hoping the humor wasn't ill-advised.

  He laughed softly. "I'll eat anything you cook, except–"

  "Mussels." They spoke the word at the same time.

  "I swear I'll never cook mussels again." A.J. crossed her heart with her fingers.

  "I swear I'll never eat your mussels again." He
used his free hand to cross his chest.

  Their laughter settled as they stared at each other. The kindness and soft emotion in his eyes held and trapped her gaze. He truly was an amazing man.

  The moment was interrupted by an older gentleman in a white coat walking into the room. "Ah, I see you're awake. Feeling better?"

  "Awesome. Not ready to run a marathon just yet, but I'm feeling better." A.J. tried to free her hand, but as his doctor loomed closer, Gunner held her hand, not allowing her to fade away.

  "I've checked the vitals the nurses have annotated, they look good. Are you feeling any nausea?"

  "No, no cramping either. Headache's gone. Just tired, now." Gunner started rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. It sent a little shiver through her.

  "Good, good.” The doctor turned his attention to the tablet in his hand as he swiped and tapped. "Alright, we are going to keep you overnight. I want to make sure we don't have any other issues secondary to dehydration. The likelihood is minuscule, but I'm not prone to taking risks." A.J.'s eye's widened as she looked down at her hot SEAL. He was definitely a risk taker, after all, he was willing to stick it out with her. The doctor lowered the tablet. "I'll be around in the morning. If everything looks good, we'll release you and let you go home. Do you have someone at home?" The doctor gazed from Gunner to A.J.

  "I'll be there," she answered for Gunner.

  "Good. I'll leave instructions what he can have to limit nausea and get his system ready for his normal diet when I discharge him. I'm not overly concerned about any lingering effects, but we need to make sure someone is on hand."

  "Thank you." A.J. stood silently as the doctor finished. Before the doctor left, he looked over his shoulder. "Visiting hours are over. The nurses don't get pushy about it for another half hour or so, but then they become rather intense." He glanced out the door. "I suggest you leave before they bring out the pitchforks."

  A.J. laughed, and Gunner shook his head. A smile spread across his face before he spoke, "Noted. Thanks, doc." Gunner waited until the door closed before he turned his worried gaze to her. "Are you driving back tonight?"

  "No, I'm getting an Uber to the nearest hotel. I'll be back as soon as visiting hours start tomorrow. Silas will come get us as soon as I tell him you're being released." She ran her hand over his forehead. His eyes closed as she did. "You're tired. Go to sleep. I'll be here in the morning."

  He nodded and didn't open his eyes again. Her hand remained in his, and she stroked through his hair until the nurses politely asked her to leave. There wasn't a pitchfork in sight.

  Chapter 15

  Gunner rolled over and blinked at the white ceiling of his bedroom. He felt semi-human, which was a three thousand percent improvement from when he woke up two days ago on A.J.'s bathroom floor. He rubbed his hand over his chest, scratching it through the light smattering of hair. He glanced around his room. A.J. was here when he'd gone to sleep last night. He lifted on his elbows and looked for any signs she was still in the house. There was nothing of hers in his bedroom. No clothes or shoes. His stomach rumbled, but this time from hunger and not nausea.

  He flipped the sheet and blanket off and headed into his en suite. He was disappointed she'd left without telling him. Yesterday, they'd had a quiet afternoon and evening after he'd been discharged. Silas had driven them home, made sure they had everything they needed and headed out. He was opening and closing the Walrus. Gunner hated his old man would have to pull a full shift, but Silas told him to shove a sock in it, reminding him he was more than capable of running his own pub for one night.

  So, Gunner shoved a sock in it. He'd still worry, it just wouldn't be when his dad was around to hear it. Instead, he'd tucked A.J. into his side on the couch, and they'd had a Netflix marathon watching the British version of Sherlock. It was hard to understand the fast-paced English accent at first, but once they got into the series, the accent wasn't a factor. The show was head and shoulders better than the American version, at least in his opinion.

  A.J. had made him broth and toast for dinner, and he ate it. Granted he was cautious, but not about her cooking. He was concerned about his body forcibly ejecting whatever he ate, no matter the source. The broth and toast stayed down, and he let her talk him into going to sleep about ten last night. They'd done nothing more than snuggle together under the covers. His mind wanted more, but he settled for holding her close. She'd slept with me, right? He could remember pulling her closer during the middle of the night. But where was she now?

  Done in the bathroom, he shuffled to the bedroom door and opened it. The marvelous aroma of coffee smacked him upside the head. He followed that scent like a hound chasing a fox. As he rounded the corner, he paused. A.J. stood at his kitchen window, coffee cup in hand, staring out toward the bay. He glanced past her and smiled. His dad and Charlotte were on the beach looking out at the water. He assumed if Charlotte was here this early, she'd probably come home with his dad and spent the night. His father had her tucked protectively against his side. Gunner padded up next to A.J. and put his arm over her shoulder, duplicating his father's stance.

  A.J. leaned her head against his chest. "Did I wake you?"

  "I think you being gone woke me, but I've slept enough in the last two days. The coffee smells fantastic."

  "I'll get you some." A.J. stopped after she retrieved a cup and glanced at him. "Is your stomach ready to handle coffee?"

  "Most definitely. That and a couple slabs of bacon and maybe a stack of pancakes three-feet tall smothered in maple syrup." Gunner took the cup from her hand and poured it himself.

  She motioned toward the beach. "I can make breakfast for all of us. Do you think we should invite them?"

  Gunner glanced out the window at the exact time his dad kissed Charlotte. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He never wanted to think about his father doing that ever again. "No, I think they are just fine by themselves." He opened his eyes and winked at her before took a sip of his coffee. "But, I'll let you cook for me."

  "You'll let me, huh?" She laughed at his joke before she became quiet and pensive. He took another sip of his coffee and waited. "Are you sure?" Her words were soft, but sorrow dripped off them. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed on it.

  He sat his cup down and turned her so she faced him. He tucked his thumb and forefinger under her chin before he used his thumb to pull her lower lip from her teeth. "I'm positive. We aren't going to go there anymore. Remember? Water under the bridge." He spun her around and pointed her toward the refrigerator. "I'll cook tomorrow. It’s fair to take turns." Although he couldn't cook for shit, he'd try like crazy if it made her happy.

  She grimaced when she glanced over her shoulder at him but kept walking across the kitchen. "How about I cook, and you clean?" She opened the cupboard and put her hands on her hips. "Dammit," A.J. muttered quietly, spun and looked around the kitchen.

  "I have a master's degree in cleaning, or at least I should as much as the Navy liked making us perfect that skill." He watched her as she went into the laundry room. He lifted his voice so she would hear him, "What are you doing?"

  She hollered back at him, "I'm looking for a step stool."

  Gunner padded toward the laundry room. The door abruptly shut in front of him, missing his nose by a fraction of an inch. It whipped back open again. She stormed out and headed toward the garage. "A.J.?"

  She spun around, walking backward as she spoke, "Yes?"

  "I don't have a step stool."

  She stopped walking. Her brow furrowed as she shot a pissed off look towards the cupboard. "Okay. I'll buy one the next time I go shopping."

  "Why?" Gunner followed her gaze toward the kitchen cabinets. He literally had no idea what was upsetting her, or maybe frustrating her.

  She pointed toward the cupboard as if it had offended her, and then stared at him like the answer to his question was obvious.

  He rubbed his face trying to wake up because his mind was not keeping up wit
h her this morning. "I give. I've always sucked at charades. How about you just tell me what you’re pointing at?"

  She placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head toward the cabinet as she spoke. "I can't reach the flour or the baking powder, or any of the ingredients I need to make you pancakes."

  Gunner glanced at the shelves. "Okay. I'll get you what you need and keep you company while you cook. When we have time, we can rearrange them, so you don't need a step stool."

  "You'd do that?" She moved over to the counter and waited for him.

  "Get you the flour and baking powder? Sure." He reached over her, easily grabbed the containers she named, and put them down on the counter.

  "No, I meant rearranging your cabinets." She opened the fridge and grabbed the milk, eggs, and butter.

  "Yeah, why wouldn't I?" Gunner reached for his coffee and took a sip.

  "You're willing to rearrange your house to accommodate me?" She opened another door and looked at the shelves. She pointed to the top. "Glass measuring cup, please."

  Gunner reached over her, grabbed the cup and placed it on the counter. He stopped her from turning away from him and pulled her between his legs. "What you fail to realize is that I want you in my life, A.J. I'd try to stop the rotation of the earth for you. I'm fully vested in this relationship. Are we off to a rocky start? Yeah. But that has gone to prove how much I do care about you. I didn't bail then, I'm not going pop the cord now, either. You are worth the effort. Hopefully, you feel the same way."

  She blinked at him. "Pop the cord?"

  He made a motion across his chest. "Bailing out of an aircraft, opening your chute. Popping the cord."

  Her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh."

  Oh. Just, oh? He cleared his throat. "You do feel the same way, right?"

  "I do." She smiled up at him. "But it is really good to hear you say it."