A SEAL's Vow (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 2)

by Cora Seton

  “I saved you a seat,” Clay said when she’d been served her meal and approached the logs around the empty fire pit. She liked the tradition of eating outside and happily took a seat next to him before she remembered the awkwardness of seeing themselves on television earlier. Nora found that couldn’t compete with her enthusiasm for the project Sue had brought to her, though. After her afternoon’s conversation with the principal, she felt energized. For the first time in days, she wasn’t worried about Clay, the show, her stalker, her novel or anything else.

  “I’m looking forward to our date tonight,” he said.

  “I didn’t realize we had one.” Nora had planned to start an outline of the first textbook. She couldn’t wait to dive into the project.

  “You’d better believe it.” Clay kept eating calmly, but the fine lines around his eyes and mouth crinkled with humor as she struggled to formulate a reply. She had work to do, but… when he looked at her that way she wished there were more hours in the evening. Spending a little time with Clay wouldn’t be so bad.

  She was glad that with the big crowd gathering around the empty fire pit, the cameras had too much to focus on to be filming them. “I’ve got to work for at least an hour before I can do anything else,” she warned him.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She bit back a smile at his overdone drawl. “Why do I get the feeling you were a handful back in school?”

  “What makes you think I’m not a handful now?”

  Her gaze dropped below his belt buckle. “Several handfuls, is my guess.” Nora swallowed. Maybe Clay hadn’t heard that.

  “Did you seriously say that out loud?” Clay cocked his head.

  “I think I did.” Nora giggled, tried to cover it up and snorted instead. A laugh escaped her tightly compressed lips. She never said things like that. And she never snorted. Another unladylike sound slipped out. The whole textbook thing had made her giddy.

  “Handfuls?” he repeated. He set his plate down. Leaned in. “Handfuls?”

  “Several,” Nora repeated and giggled again.

  “Did Kai slip you something in your salad?”

  He must have, because suddenly, perched on a log next to Clay, eating solar-cooked stew, with a project to look forward to, she felt—good.

  Clay leaned in and whispered, “We can measure those handfuls later, if you like.”

  “I’ve got work to do, remember?” she whispered back primly, his breath in her ear sending shivers down her spine. She wouldn’t mind getting Clay out of those jeans, if she was honest with herself. But wasn’t there some reason not to? As charged up as she felt, it was hard to remember why.

  “We can at least cop a lot of feels while you’re writing, right?”

  Nora laughed out loud and several heads turned their way. “No, we can’t.” She was flirting with him, Nora thought. Flirting and joking about sex without a whisper of worry. That damn stalker hadn’t gotten to her after all, had he? Heady with triumph, Nora leaned toward Clay. “Handfuls.”

  Clay shook his head. “That’s it. We’re going to your tent right now.”

  “Nope. I’m hungry.” She took a bite of stew and slid him a look from under her eyelashes.

  “That’s just it. I’m hungry, too.” The desire in his eyes was so powerful, Nora faltered.

  Maybe she wasn’t ready for this after all.

  She glanced up and spotted Ed focusing his camera on them. “We’re being watched,” she said shortly and went back to her meal.

  Clay scanned the fire ring, nodded and picked up his plate again. Some of her bravado faded away as they ate. There were lots of good reasons not to get involved with Clay, and those damn cameras represented one of them.

  When they finished the meal and brought their dishes back to Kai, however, Clay took her hand. “Your tent or mine?”

  “I’m supposed to write,” she reminded him. A breeze toyed with a strand of her hair that had come undone from her updo and she tucked it back into her bonnet. She was second-guessing herself. Nerves had kicked in and she wasn’t sure she was ready to be alone with Clay, after all. Mostly, she was afraid he’d do something that triggered one of her ridiculous reactions. She didn’t think she could stand it if she embarrassed herself again.

  She didn’t want to feel anxious around Clay. Earlier, their banter had turned her on, but she knew if she went with Clay to his tent—or hers—they’d be well on their way to making love. Could she do that?

  She wasn’t sure.

  She wanted to.

  Nora held back a sigh. Taking her stalker and her overreactions out of the equation, there was still the problem of the show and Fulsom’s demands. If and when she made love to Clay, it would be hard to pretend she didn’t know where their relationship was headed. Or that Fulsom’s timeline worked for her.

  “Go grab your laptop and come back here. We’ll work in the bunkhouse for a while,” Clay said. “I’ll kick Boone out so you can take the desk.”

  He must have read her hesitation. He was being a gentleman, which made it all the harder to resist him.

  “Seems like Base Camp needs a few more workspaces,” she made herself say lightly.

  “Base Camp needs more of everything. We’ll get there,” Clay told her.

  Nora hurried to her tent, found her laptop and came back. Some of the men were still gathered around the fire pit, where they’d lit a small fire. She liked the homey feel of the camp, despite her reluctance to move down here. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to camp out for a while.

  Or maybe it would be when she tried to sleep on the ground tonight.

  When she entered the bunkhouse again some minutes later, the main room was empty, so she went to set her things on the desk. She heard the deep rumble of male voices in the kitchen and realized the other founders had gathered there with Clay. Kai was still in there, too. She could hear the clink and clatter of dishes as he washed up. Nora sat down, opened her laptop and waited for it to fire up. She didn’t mean to listen in to the men’s conversation, but it was hard not to.

  “Looks like you’re making progress,” Jericho said.

  “With Nora? A little,” Clay said. “I’ve got a lot of convincing to do, though. Fulsom didn’t give us enough time to do this right. How’s it going with Savannah?”

  Progress, huh? She tried to feel grumpy about that, but in reality, her heart ached for him. Clay was trying so hard to be with her and she was working just as hard to resist him—when she wasn’t giving in to him. It wasn’t fair to him to keep playing this game. She had to break things off once and for all.

  But she didn’t want to.

  Nora’s ears perked up at the mention of Savannah’s name, and she turned to hear better, grateful for the distraction. Savannah had been cagey about Jericho for weeks.

  “She’s not too happy right now. I asked if she wanted to help me prepare for tomorrow, but all she wants to do is play piano. She’s pissed she’s lost so much of her practice time.”

  “It’ll work out,” Boone said. Nora rolled her eyes. Riley’s husband was a good man, but messing with Savannah’s practice time wasn’t going to make her more likely to marry Jericho.

  “What about you?” Clay said. “We’re all screwed if you don’t play along with this, you know.” At first Nora thought he was talking to Boone, but then she realized he must be addressing Walker.

  “Got it covered.”

  Definitely Walker. No one else was so terse.

  “Are you talking about Avery?” Jericho demanded.

  Walker grunted.

  “Whoever it is, you’d better get moving. I don’t plan to draw the short stick next time,” Jericho said.

  Their conversation turned to other things, and Nora tried to concentrate on the document on her screen, but she had made little progress with her story before Clay came to check on her. He settled down nearby with a clipboard and a sheaf of papers. “Planning,” he said when she raised an eyebrow.

  Nora got back to work. Kai,
joined by Curtis, cleaned up the meal, and although they made quite a bit of noise hauling in dishes and joking around in the kitchen, she found she didn’t mind. It was cozy having people around, and she felt… safe. She decided to put off worrying about her future—and Clay’s. Rolling her shoulders, she eased the tension from them. The bunkhouse’s windows were open, and snatches of conversation from outside drifted in, too. After years of living alone, it felt good to be part of a large group like this.

  “You’re smiling,” Clay said softly.

  Was she? Nora hadn’t meant to be; there were important problems to face… soon. “I think I’m… happy.” In this moment she was, anyway.

  He took her hand. “I’m glad. It’s good to have you here, Nora.”

  “It’s good to be here,” she admitted.

  “Are you done?” He nodded to her laptop. “We could take a walk.”

  “Okay.”

  What was she doing? Nora chastised herself as she stood up. This was a perfect time to break things off for good. There were no camera crews around. They’d gone to eat the food Renata ordered for them, and wouldn’t be back for a few more minutes.

  “What about my laptop?”

  “Leave it. Come on. This way,” Clay said. He waited for her to shut it down, then led her through the kitchen, giving Kai a salute.

  “Slipping out the back?” Kai asked.

  “Gonna try.”

  Clay hurried Nora out the kitchen door and around the far side of the bunkhouse.

  He took her on a circuitous route that enabled them to remain unseen until they were far from the bunkhouse. Clay walked confidently, and soon they were well beyond the area of the ranch Nora knew.

  “Where are we going?”

  “There’s a great view over here. We used to come here as kids. Boone, Walker, Jericho and I. And Riley, too, most of the time. She loved to do whatever we did.”

  Nora smiled at the picture he painted, despite her concerns. She tried to conjure up in her mind a vision of the four men as teenagers and Riley, a few years younger than them, tagging along behind the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, as she’d called them back then. What a wonderful childhood, Nora thought wistfully. She’d lived in the city all her life.

  The walk settled her nerves and soon she’d convinced herself that this was all it was—an innocent way to pass the time.

  “What made you join the Navy?” she asked. Pacing next to him, her dress swishing as she walked, holding hands with a strong, tall man she fancied, she felt almost transported back in time to an era where life wasn’t quite so hectic.

  “The Navy was Jericho’s idea originally. He got hold of the requirements to join, and we trained like crazy so we’d make the cut. None of our families had the money to own their own ranch. We knew none of us would inherit a spread, so we needed to do something. The Navy was a good answer.”

  “Funny you didn’t choose the Army or Air Force—”

  “Hell, no. Navy SEALs all the way. That was the goal and that’s what we did.”

  Clay and his friends hadn’t changed over the years, had they? They still set goals together and did whatever it took to meet them. She had to admit she found that admirable.

  Even if it took them down some crazy paths.

  “If you love the SEALs so much, why leave the Navy? Was there something in particular that made you focus on climate change instead?”

  “Yeah. You could say that.” They’d been walking along a barbed wire fence that defined a pasture, and Clay opened a gate, guided her through it and closed it behind them again. He led her to a rise in ground from which the landscape fell away, laying out a panoramic view.

  “Oh, that’s beautiful,” Nora said, forgetting her question for the moment.

  Clay sat on the ground and tugged her down beside him. She sat carefully, not wanting to damage her dress.

  “It all started in Yemen. Or ended there, depending on how you want to look at it. I’m proud of the way I served my country, and I’m proud of the SEALs for the work they do, but you’ve got to understand by the time we’re called in, a situation has gone to shit. There’s no fixing it—there’s only dealing with some disaster that generally could have been prevented from happening in the first place if the right people had done the right things. Does that make sense? As much as I pride myself on being able to get into a tight spot and save someone’s ass, or minimize the damage, or get the bad guy, I’m also a thinking man. I can’t help noticing what should have been done about the situation months or years before I was called in. I can’t help thinking about the bigger picture.”

  “What happened in Yemen?” She vaguely knew there was a civil war going on over there.

  “A major fuck-up. We went there to rescue four aid workers who couldn’t get out when the hostilities flared up. They were in a convoy, trying to bring medical supplies to a civilian hospital. They couldn’t go forward, and they couldn’t go back, so they holed up in a bombed-out building—and found they weren’t alone. Turned out the building was a school. There were children hiding there, too. Their teacher was dead, and they couldn’t get home.”

  “Oh, Clay.” Nora couldn’t imagine what that had been like. If a war had broken out while she’d been teaching, she would have done anything she could to keep the children safe. “How old were they? The kids?”

  “Young.” Clay shook his head, and she could tell his thoughts were far from this pasture. She covered his hand with her own. “The aid workers had a satellite phone. Solar charged. We were able to talk to them, even though we couldn’t get to them. We took turns, trying to keep up their morale. Usually I talked to a man named Hendrik Fergusen. He used to be a plastic surgeon, but he gave that up to join the aid organization after he split up with his wife. I felt so bad for him. If only they’d stayed together—if only he’d stayed in Beverly Hills, you know? But when I said that to him, he disagreed.”

  Clay tilted up his head to look at the sky. Nora did, too. Its deep blue was darkening, and a star or two was out. Under its large expanse, Yemen didn’t seem so far away. She wondered if there was a woman over there looking up at the sky, wishing for peace.

  “Hendrik said, ‘I’ve lived my whole life doing what others thought I should do. My wife wanted the security that wealth would provide. In the end, though, she left me. So much for security.’”

  “That poor man,” Nora said, angry on his behalf.

  “That’s not the way he saw it,” Clay said, glancing her way. “‘It’s the most freeing thing that ever happened,’ is how he put it. He told me, ‘I took a chance and did exactly what I wanted to do. I helped people who really needed it. I may survive this, I may not, but the first time in my life I’m fulfilled.’ I’ll never forget that,” Clay said. “For the first time, I’m fulfilled.”

  “What happened?” She thought she knew, but she had to ask.

  “We didn’t save them,” Clay said softly. “We tried. Over and over again. We couldn’t. Boone was on the phone with a woman named Francine when the school was hit. They all died, every last one of them.”

  She heard the pain in his voice and wished she could take it away. She doubted you lived through something like that and ever got away from it, though.

  “That’s when we decided we had to try something else. It’s hard to explain how tiny houses in Montana affect civil wars in Yemen—”

  “I get it,” Nora said. “Of course the two are connected. Everything we do is connected.”

  “I can’t stop fighting for Hendrik. For Francine. For those kids.”

  Nora understood—more than she wanted to, really. He’d experienced something life-altering and made a vow he had to uphold. How could she complain if that trumped her qualms about a quick marriage?

  Especially when she could change the ending to their story by simply saying yes to Clay.

  “I didn’t mean to ruin a beautiful evening with hard memories.” He turned to face her, and Nora wanted to smooth her fingers over the worry
lines around his eyes. He was so dear to her, she realized. She ached to make him happy.

  And all she had to do was agree to marry him.

  “You didn’t ruin anything,” Nora said, shifting slightly to put more space between them. “If anything, you made me understand something I couldn’t before.”

  “Did you think I’d signed on to Base Camp out of ego?” Clay lifted her hand into his lap and began massaging it gently. She had the feeling he needed to do something. That coiled energy of his again.

  “I’m not sure what I thought. I wasn’t sure why you let Fulsom boss you around, I guess.”

  “I do have an ego,” he said. “A big enough one to want what I’m doing here to make a real difference. That means people have to know about it. Lots of people. Fulsom’s out of his mind, but he’s great at generating buzz.”

  “That he is.”

  “I only wish it wasn’t causing problems between us.”

  When he looked at her like that, like he was starving and she was the only food for miles, she knew she was in trouble. All that energy he tried to hold in check burned bright in his eyes. He wanted her.

  And, God help her, she wanted him, too.

  “Nora—”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. He leaned in and kissed her and she greeted that kiss gratefully, falling into it like she was diving into a cool lake on a hot summer’s day. He lifted her onto his lap, and Nora could only cling to him as he deepened the kiss, tasting her, tangling his tongue with hers.

  Nora leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and savored the feel of him. His hardness against her bottom made it all too clear what he wanted, and she ached to unzip his jeans and get a good look at those handfuls.

  “Your tent? Or mine?” Clay said finally, and Nora blinked, coming back to herself.

  “They’ll film us,” she protested.