by Ivy Jordan
“Yes. A fresh start, with you,” she giggled. “You didn’t think I was just going to leave you, did you?” she laughed.
I did. That was exactly what I’d thought. I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her from the floor, and swung her around the room as my lips pressed into hers. I couldn’t wait for our fresh start.
Epilogue
Two Years Later - Maddie
It was my third Christmas in Miami, and I still couldn’t get used to the sunshine beaming in through the windows as I decorated with garland and white lights. The smell of the turkey roasting in the oven marinated the house as I moved to the white Christmas tree that Isaac selected and carefully placed the multi-colored candy canes on each branch.
My life had never been better, and I had Isaac to thank for that. I’d been taking cooking lessons for over a year and a half now and was ready to start my career as a private chef. Isaac still chuckled when he watch me in the kitchen. “Who knew getting hit by a car could make you a good cook?” he’d tease.
A lot of things in my life had changed since I was hit by that car. I had friends, a life of my own, and one I shared with an amazing man. Rob had gotten out of jail around Christmas the previous year, but as far as I knew, he never tried to contact me or Isaac.
I moved into the kitchen, almost floating on air as the aroma pulled me into the room. The turkey was perfectly roasted as I pulled it from the oven, trading places on the rack with a homemade apple pie.
The waves slapped at the shore behind me, soothing my soul as I stirred the gravy, and then added a few finishing touches to our holiday meal.
The doorbell rang as I finished icing the last cookie, causing me to rush to answer it. “Merry Christmas!” Beth exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me tightly. We’d become very close friends since I’d returned to Miami, so close that I considered her my best friend, aside from Isaac, of course.
“Merry Christmas, Maddie,” Elijah smiled, handing me a bottle of wine. Beth made a face, wrinkling her nose at his gift. “Man, I miss wine,” she complained. Her hands rested on her round belly, patting it gently as she smiled.
“Two more months, and then we’re celebrating,” I smiled, giving her baby bump a soft rub.
Her new husband, Marty, entered behind her, winded from running up the street. Parking was tight since everyone on the street seemed to be celebrating at home. He was tall, good-looking, and best of all, nice. He came with a son, baggage as Isaac had teased, but to Beth, who thought she couldn’t have kids after her abusive past, he was a dream come true.
I hated that I wasn’t right about Beth and Elijah. But, Marty made Beth happier than I’d ever seen her, and they made the perfect couple.
Marty’s son bounced into the room, rushing straight for the Christmas tree. He checked each box until he found his name. “Mine,” he grinned from ear to ear.
Beth had confided in me that she didn’t think she could have kids of her own, and being a part of Marty’s life, and his son’s, made her feel whole again. We couldn’t believe it when she announced her pregnancy, and even her doctors called it a miracle.
“It smells amazing in here,” Elijah noted, taking a big whiff as he gave me a side hug.
“Everything’s almost ready. We’re just waiting on Isaac,” I announced.
Almost as soon as I made the announcement, Isaac entered through the front door. His cheeks were flushed red from the cooler winds blasting through the tropical city, and his eyes filled with a strange excitement. “Merry Christmas,” I said, tippy-toed to reach his lips. His arms stretched out to wrap around me, and something fell from his pocket.
I leaned down, picking up the small black box from the floor. I gasped as I realized what it must hold inside. Isaac nervously took it from my hand, his eyes wide and filled with fear. “You weren’t supposed to see that yet,” he smirked.
“Then we’ll pretend I didn’t,” I said sweetly.
Beth’s eyes were all over me. She’d seen the box, and she knew what was inside; her expression gave that away instantly. “Let me help you in the kitchen,” she offered, pulling my arm as she drug me into the kitchen.
She let out a squeal of excitement once we were alone. “Was that a ring?” she asked.
I nodded, my cheeks starting to burn. I imagined that Isaac probably had something romantic planned, and me seeing it may have ruined his surprise. “Do you think he’ll ask you tonight?” she questioned, her excitement stirring my own to a level I almost couldn’t control.
“I hope so,” I screeched.
“It’s been two years, so it’s about damn time,” Beth insisted.
Isaac, Marty, and Elijah entered the kitchen, cutting our conversation short. They helped carry the dishes to the large dining room table where we’d all eat our Christmas meal with a perfect view of the sunny beach.
“So, Beth was telling me about your latest case,” Elijah questioned Isaac from across the table.
He finished carving the turkey and looked towards his friend. “Yes, its pro-bono case, but I think for a good cause,” he replied.
I loved that his heart was so pure, so giving. He’d told me about the case earlier that week. It was a young girl, pregnant, and already with two small children. Her husband was abusive, and she wanted away. He threatened her with lawsuits to take away her children, and with his money, she feared he could. Isaac knew she couldn’t get her hands on any money since her husband controlled everything, so he agreed to follow them for the next month, gathering all the proof she needed to fight him in court.
“We should start a Christmas program that supports abused women and children,” I chimed into the conversation.
Beth was immediately for it, being a survivor of abuse herself. “The police have a program in place already. We could use our contacts there to get something started,” Isaac mentioned.
I was about to burst with excitement. The discussion of the program, of Isaac’s case, was all a great distraction, but I still knew what was in his pocket, and I wanted it now.
“I think we should do presents before pie,” I announced as everyone finished their plates.
Beth grinned, knowing what I was pushing for. There was no better setting than this one for Isaac to propose. We were with our dearest friends, and they’d gone through so much with us, they deserved to be a part of this as well.
Isaac’s eyes glared into mine, his lips curling into a crooked smile. It was obvious he knew what I was up to.
Marty’s son was first, immediately running to get his box. “An X-box?” he exclaimed, jumping up and down with the present in his hand.
“That’s a little extravagant, isn’t it?” Beth sighed.
I giggled. “I can spoil my nephew if I want,” I sassed.
I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so I knew nephews and nieces wouldn’t be a part of my life. Once we became so close with Beth and Marty as a couple, I decided right then and there that they were family, making me an aunt. A very proud aunt.
I handed Marty and Beth each their present, Beth getting two since she was carrying my little niece in her belly. Marty got a certificate to golf all year at the best club in town. Elijah got a gun he’d been wanting, a vintage one that he and Isaac talked about frequently, and Beth opened the baby’s first: a handmade quilt that my grandmother had made, carried down for generations. Her gift was a soft, fuzzy robe, slippers, and a soothing sounds machine for her labor. “Thank you,” they both said in unison while Marty’s son worked on hooking up the X-box he’d received.
Beth gave me a photo album, filled with pictures of our two years together. “New memories are the best memories,” she smirked. I agreed.
Marty handed me a large thin box. I opened the lid to find a gourmet set of knives, each carved with the initials ‘ML.’ He must’ve known I was about to lose my maiden name and take Lewis as my new one. I smirked and nodded in appreciation.
Elijah gave us an expensive bottle of Scotch that he planned to share with
Isaac later, and me a small box that contained business cards for my new business, flyers he’d printed out, and a link to a website he’d created with a full five years of tech support and design assistance.
“That is so sweet; thank you,” I wrapped my arms around them both. I couldn’t be happier, or could I?
I looked at Isaac, his eyes nervously shifting back and forth. “Can we do ours now?” I asked, winking in his direction.
His cheeks turned pink, a shade I wasn’t used to seeing on him. “Okay. I guess there is no better place or time than here and now to give you your present,” he said, standing from the table.
He walked towards me and took to one knee. He pulled the black box from his pocket, holding it in front of him and towards me. “Maddie, I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you when you moved into the house next door. I spent my entire life dreaming of you, wishing you’d love me back, and I never believed in a million years I’d ever get so lucky. Today, I feel like the happiest man on earth, but I know if you’d be my wife, I could be even happier,” he choked out as he opened the ring box.
It was a gorgeous vintage ring, a diamond so big it caught every light in the room and displayed a beautiful shimmer of color. “I would be honored,” I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck. My lips pushed into his, and Beth, Marty, and Elijah clapped and cheered.
“I have something for you too,” I said with teary joy in my voice.
“I can’t imagine anything better than your yes,” Isaac smiled.
I pulled a box from under my chair and handed it to Isaac. He looked at me curiously as he opened the top lid. A small stick was inside: a pregnancy test with two blue lines.
“We’re pregnant?” Isaac screeched. I nodded with tears flowing down my cheeks from my overwhelming happiness.
He wrapped his arms around me, then pulled me from my chair and into his chest as he covered me with kisses. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you just made me even happier,” he roared with excitement.
I never dreamed anything would make me this happy in life. But here I am, with the man of my dreams, a beautiful baby growing in my belly, and two of the best friends a girl could ask for.
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SEAL MOUNTAIN MAN
By Ivy Jordan
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Ivy Jordan
Chapter One
Elijah
Fireworks exploded over the ocean in a wild display of color. I leaned back in my lounger, took a long swig of my fifth beer, and watched the world celebrate the New Year. Big fuckin’ deal.
The Miami winter breeze was cool, actually cool enough to send shivers up my arms. It couldn’t be excitement from the lights in the sky; I’d seen plenty of those overseas, and they weren’t celebration lights.
My thoughts drifted to the men lost over the years during service. Good men, strong men; men that I was proud I’d known. I often wondered why I came back home instead of them, why was I spared? What the hell did I have to offer this world? Quit feeling sorry for yourself, sissy pants, my dad’s voice echoed in my mind. It made me laugh. Not because it was funny, or even endearing. I just found it odd that I was even thinking about the old man.
Loud reports from the fireworks brought my attention back to the sky. It was the finale, the sendoff that alerted all who watched that it was midnight, and a new year had just begun.
Silhouettes of couples on the beach just below my deck hugged, kissed, and clung to one another like they feared the ocean breeze would carry them off, never to be seen again. Another thing that made me laugh. Kissing a loved one at midnight on the New Year, how was that supposed to bring you luck? I didn't buy into it any more than I bought into eating sauerkraut to bring good luck into the next year. Blah! No thank you, on either tradition.
I’d been alone since I got back to the states, and that’s just how I liked it—for now, anyway. Women were everywhere, easy to seduce with my backstory of fallen soldiers, combat stories, and a few flexes of my thick muscles. An emergency always called me away, kept me from staying overnight and facing that awkward morning after. It was best that way. I wasn’t exactly boyfriend material or husband material; not like Isaac. He never shut up about Maddie the entire time we served together, and at one point, I really thought he’d made the girl up in his mind just to keep him sane during those chaotic times. We all wanted someone to love back home, someone who was waiting for us, praying for us, and that would welcome us home with open arms. I knew I didn’t have that, and I learned not to care.
I mocked love, at least until I watched my old pal get the girl of his dreams. He was willing to risk anything, everything, just to keep her safe, even if it meant losing her forever. Wow, now that’s enough to make anyone believe in love. I just wasn’t sure love was right for me.
My phone lit up like an encore to the fireworks show, beeping hysterically as texts flooded through. I opened my messages, read through all the generic texts from friends, ex-lovers, and SEAL brothers, all wishing me well in the new year. I slid to the last text, one that stopped me short.
Unknown: Elijah, please call me as soon as possible regarding your father’s estate.
I stared at the text from the unknown number, wondering if it possible to be the wrong number, the wrong Elijah. My dad was a strong, willful, old man. He couldn’t die.
It was midnight, after midnight. Who would send such a text so late? Shit, Molokai, Hawaii was six hours behind Miami time, so it was only six o’clock there. It wasn’t a wrong number.
Is this how I wanted to start my year? Not kissing someone, not eating sauerkraut, but calling whoever this was to talk about my father’s estate? Fuckin’ traditions, just because I didn’t follow through, this is how my year starts?
I hit the number above the text, and held the phone to my ear.
“John Sanderson, here,” a cheerful voice greeted me after just three rings.
“This is Elijah Grant. You left me a message…” I trailed off as he interrupted my explanation.
“Yes, Elijah. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m sure your father’s death was no surprise given his illness,” he spouted.
“Illness?” I questioned.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you knew. He’d been battling cancer for several years now. He was a fighter, your old man; stubborn as a mule, and determined to prove the doctors wrong,” the man chuckled.
“I can only imagine,” I exhaled.
Why hadn’t he told me about his illness? He never called, but then again, neither did I. Coming back from overseas, I made Florida my home, never planning on going back to Hawaii, ever.
“Well, the matter of the home here is why I’m calling. You are the next of kin, and he did have you named in his last will and testament, even though it was never properly filed. The home is yours to do with as you wish, I just need to have you sign a few papers,” John Sanderson, bearer of bad news, spoke quickly.
“Just sell it,” I sighed.
It was my childhood home, one that didn’t carry too many happy memories. I didn’t want it. “We can surely do that, but I’ll still need you to sign some papers,” he instructed.
“I’ll make plans for the trip, but it will be a couple weeks,” I explained without detail for my delay.
“That will be fine. I’ll send you my office address. You can come pick up the keys and make your final decision from there,” he offered, like I would change my mind once I stepped foot in that house. No thanks.
“Sure,” I rushed, saying a quick goodbye, and hanging up the phone.
My head was spinning. My father was sick? Battling cancer? For years? Just like good ole’ dad to keep that to himself. I’
m sure it was his plan to have me find out just this way, surprised, shocked, and of course, left with the guilt of not knowing, not helping, and not being able to say goodbye.
I reached into my cooler, grabbed another beer, and stared up at the sky. Smoke still lingered from the sparks, but no more bright colors remained.
*
The light of the day didn’t bring any more clarity to my situation than the eerie darkness of the smoke-filled sky the night before. My father was dead. The house, my childhood home, was now mine to do with as I wished. I laughed as I said the man’s statement in my head. To do with as I wish. Burn it?
Alcohol was still flowing in my veins thicker than blood, and it was nearly noon. Thoughts of my dad caused me to drink too much, and passing out on the back deck with the cool Miami winter air had left my joints aching. I pulled off my t-shirt and headed down the steps towards the beach. A few people were laying out, another couple walked the shoreline looking for shells, but other than that, it was quiet, empty, peaceful.
My feet hit the warm sand, my weight pushing it between my toes as I took each step. Once I reached the flattened, damp sand, I took off running, stretching out every damn muscle in my body. It hurt like hell, but felt familiar and comfortable, somehow soothing. Long runs during training nearly brought tears to my eyes in the beginning. This is what it felt like being stretched like one of those rubber wrestling dolls I had as a kid. I picked up the pace, grinding my teeth against the pain, running nowhere, away, just running.
Sweet familiar pain.
A mile down the beach I slowed down, letting the burn of my muscles take center stage. A couple cuties were spread out on towels near the softer sand as I headed towards the beachfront café. My dick flinched, alerting me to the scantily clad beauties, but my mind was elsewhere. It was on the burn, the pain, my dad, somewhere. The young blonde lifted from her towel, rising up enough for me to catch a glimpse of her full, round breasts that nearly popped from her green bikini top. Her red lips puckered and her nose wrinkled as she looked into the sun to check out who was nearby. I nodded, doing my best to keep my eyes on hers, and not the tanned mounds that tempted my dick. Her smile was sweet, inviting, and I knew with just one move, she’d be mine, at least for one night.
