Hot SEAL, Charmed

by Parker Kincade

  What the hell? “I’m out of the Navy now and can come home. It’s what you’ve always talked about, right? Father and sons working together? You deserve to have at least one of us here with you, and Colin certainly hasn’t proved to be trustworthy.”

  “What I deserve is to have my boys be happy. Not that I wouldn’t love to have you here, son. You know that I would. But I’ve been running this bar on my own since the beginning. I’ll happily keep doing it unless you can look me in the eye and tell me that managing this bar would bring joy to your life.”

  Liam felt like shit, like a traitor, but he couldn’t do it. He loved Tavern J. He loved his family. But he loved Haven more.

  “That’s what I thought.” His dad smoothed a patch of mud that Liam placed. “So, what is it you want?”

  “Haven.” No hesitation. No question. Just fact in its purest form.

  “Haven? Rory’s girl in Ireland?”

  Liam smiled his first real smile in days. “My girl in Ireland.”

  If she’d have him.

  “I’ve decided to sell the pub.”

  “You what?” Haven rubbed her eye with the palm of her hand, struggling to wake up. “Dad, why?” she asked into the phone.

  “I’ve given this a lot of thought, lass. Someone pointed out to me that a girl who wanted to run the family pub wouldn’t go traipsin’ off to Dublin right before the St. Patrick’s Day Festival. I’m thinkin’ there might be something to that.”

  Fuck. Fuck. “I’m not in Dublin, Dad. I’m in California.”

  The silence that ensued gave Haven a minute to gather her wits. Unable to bear being surrounded by the combined scent of them in Liam’s bed, Haven had crashed on the couch since he’d gone. She sat up and sank against the back.

  “California?” Her father muttered a litany in Gaelic. “You left the country and didn’t think to let your Mam or me know?”

  “I didn’t know I needed permission.”

  “It’s not about permission, lass. It’s about respect.”

  She wasn’t winning any points this morning. “You’re right. I should’ve told you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to come this far. I got to Dublin and thought about how long it had been since I’d seen Liam. The timing worked with his schedule—so, here I am.”

  An abbreviated truth, but close enough.

  “Liam, huh? What does Craig think about you visitin’ another man?”

  “Who I see is none of Craig’s business.” Suspicion tickled the edges of her morning brain fog. “Is he the someone you’ve been talking to?”

  “The lad has a point.”

  “Wait. Did Craig offer to buy the pub from you?”

  Haven groaned at her father’s telling silence. “Dad! You know you wouldn’t have even considered the thought if Craig hadn’t come along and whispered in your ear.”

  “He did no such thing. He merely pointed out that you might have other plans for your life.”

  “You shouldn’t be talkin’ to Craig. We aren’t together anymore. The only reason he offered to buy the pub was to get back at me. You can’t do it, Dad.”

  She was so fucking selfish. She never should’ve left. She’d disrupted her dad’s life and shown up unexpectedly to disrupt Liam’s. And why? Because she was bored? Because she was afraid of missing out on something?

  That’s not the kind of person she wanted to be.

  God, the thought of leaving Liam made her want to cry, but she’d known this day would come. She had a good life in Ireland. She loved her family. She loved the pub, and she loved Killarney. It was time for her to stop looking for greener pastures and enjoy the one she already had. And who cared if she had to leave her heart in California? Without Liam, she didn’t need it anyway.

  Which left only one thing left to do.

  “Don’t sell the pub, dad. I’ll be home for the festival. I’ll take over, just like we always planned. It’s what I want.”

  She also wanted Craig’s balls on a platter. Maybe she’d get lucky and the fucker would show up for the festival.

  The thought was the only thing that kept her from crying as she packed.

  13

  Haven: Hey, Liam. Sorry for the late text. I wanted you to know that I’m heading home. I’m at the airport now and am about to board my flight.

  Haven: Thank you for everything. For letting me stay. For the ice cream and the sanctuary dogs and the…earthquake. :)

  Haven: Being with you again was the best time of my life, and I’ll treasure the memories we made together always. Be happy, my friend. H.

  Liam read the text messages three times. Each time sounded more and more like a goodbye. Not just goodbye until the next video chat or phone call, but goodbye…forever.

  Be happy, my friend.

  Not possible. Not without her.

  For a guy known for his luck, it seemed Liam’s had just run out.

  “Maybe we should change his nickname to sourpuss.”

  “Or grumpy.”

  “Or crabapple. Wait, we should save that one for his replacement. Isn’t Cash from Michigan? They grow apples there, right?”

  “Cash already has a badass nickname. Inferno. So, crabapple is still available.”

  Liam scooped up a fistful of peanuts and sent them flying across the table at his friends and former teammates. “I’m sitting right here, fucktards. I can hear you.”

  “Annnd we have a winner,” Joker stage whispered. “Crabapple, it is.”

  Liam rolled his eyes. He didn’t care what they called him since Lucky had officially retired, in more ways than one.

  “Come on, Liam,” Jack “Mars” Marsten said. “This is supposed to be a celebration.”

  “Yeah, man,” Gage “Gator” Fontenot agreed. “You’re officially out of the Navy. You’re free. No more following orders.”

  “Or jumping out of planes,” Pops added.

  “Or sleeping on the ground.” This, from Joker.

  “Or eating shit food out of a vacuum-sealed bag,” Zig said and the rest of them grumbled and nodded in agreement to that one.

  “No more O-Course,” they all said in unison, then passed out high-fives like dollar bills at a strip club.

  Brian dropped his arm around Liam’s shoulder. “They’re right, buddy. You should be celebrating. You’ve had a hell of a career with the SEALs. You should be proud.”

  Liam had argued until he was blue in the face about coming out to McP’s tonight. He hadn’t wanted to do it. Since returning from Boston, he hadn’t wanted to do much of anything.

  Brian refused to take no for an answer. He’d pounded on Liam’s door for five solid minutes, but it was only when the guy started singing at the top of his lungs that Liam had finally relented and opened up. His poor neighbors.

  Liam was proud of his service, but that didn’t mean he felt like celebrating. It felt wrong to toast and laugh and enjoy something he’d been too stupid to share with Haven.

  She’d been right to leave. To not to answer his calls or texts. He didn’t deserve her.

  But God, he fucking missed her. In a few short days, she’d up and filled places in his life he hadn’t realized were empty. Now that she was gone, the echo of her presence haunted him. The strands of her golden fire hair on his sheets. The mud print in the shape of her ass on the passenger seat of his truck. The scent of her fucking shampoo that she’d left behind in his shower.

  There was nothing left for him to do except sell his truck and move.

  Brian shoved his chair back and stood. “All right, men. Welcome to the official sendoff celebration for Petty Officer First Class Liam “Lucky” Jamison, or as he will now be known in the civilian world, Crabapple.” A round of cheers went up. “Let’s start by going around the table and telling the most embarrassing Liam story you’ve got. I’ll start.”

  And on they went for the next several hours. Embarrassing Liam stories. Funniest Liam stories. Favorite stray dog who followed Liam back to camp and in what country stories…because
yeah, there were plenty of those, too.

  By the time things started to wind down, Liam’s heart felt lighter. Gratitude for these men and the friendship they’d given him weaved around the ache he’d been carrying since Haven had gone back to Ireland.

  “We’ve got one more surprise for you,” Brian announced and held out an envelope. “Call it a parting gift.”

  Liam took the plain, white envelope with his name scrolled across the front. He glanced at Brian. “What is this?”

  His friend grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Open it and find out.”

  Holding tight to his frayed emotions, Liam opened the envelope.

  “We all chipped in,” Zig said quietly as shock jolted Liam’s system as sure as if they’d taken a defibrillator to his chest. The way his heart raced, they might as well have.

  Liam pulled out the slip of paper and studied the information. “What did you do? I—I can’t accept this.” His friends had purchased him a one-way ticket to Dublin.

  Bear spoke up. “You can, and you will.”

  “You’re miserable without Haven,” Brian told him, as if he didn’t already know that. “We all know you love her. You need to stop moping around and go fix this shit.”

  Liam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the ticket. The flight left first thing in the morning. After a layover, the plane would arrive in Dublin on the morning of St. Patrick’s Day. The twenty-year-anniversary of when they’d met.

  “It’s not that simple,” Liam whispered, something akin to hope brewing in his gut.

  “It never is,” Brian agreed.

  “I fucked up. I crossed the line of our friendship, and now I’ve lost her.” God, those words hurt. Like regurgitating glass.

  “You helped me get mine,” Brian reminded him. Liam had helped plan and implement Brian’s epic woo’ing of Alicia right here in this bar. “Let us help you get yours. Take the ticket. Go to Ireland. Build a new life.”

  How was he supposed to say no to that? Emotion clogged his throat, and all Liam could do was nod.

  Brian clapped him on the shoulder in approval and rose to his feet. He extended his glass to the group. “To our boy, Liam,” Brian said. And then he sang.

  Of all the money that e’er I had, I spent it in good company.

  Joker stood, taking the next line. And all the harm I’ve ever done, alas, it was to none but me.

  One by one, Liam’s brothers stood, extending their glasses to him as they continued the old Irish song of farewell.

  So, fill to me the parting glass, and drink a health whatever befalls, then gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be with you all.

  They waved for him stand. Liam got to his feet, his chest and throat tight as he picked up the refrain. Of all the comrades that e’er I had, they’re sorry for my going away. He grinned. And all the sweethearts that e’er I had; they’d wish me one more day to stay.

  A cheer erupted around them. Liam pressed a palm to his chest and sang out to the bar at large. But since it fell into my lot, that I should rise and you should not, I’ll gently rise and softly call, goodnight and joy be with you all.

  One by one, his brothers embraced him. Joker. Zig. Pops. Mars. Wolf. Gator. Bear. When Heartbreaker stepped up for his turn in the man-hug parade, Liam couldn’t help but razz the guy. “You’re gonna need a new nickname now that you’ve got Alicia.”

  “Damn straight, I am. Got any ideas?”

  Liam laughed. “A few. I’ll e-mail the guys a list.”

  Brian’s stare turned serious. “You do that. Call. E-mail. Send up fucking smoke signals for all I care, just…stay in touch.”

  “Yeah, man,” Zig added. “We all want to hear how hard Haven makes you grovel before she lets you off the hook.”

  Liam would grovel until the end of his days if it meant he got to spend his life with her.

  And as the wheels of the plane left the ground the next morning, Liam stared out the window at the city he’d called home for so long.

  Fill to me the parting glass, he whispered, finishing the tune his brothers had started.

  And drink a health whate’er befalls

  Then gently rise and softly call

  Goodnight and joy be with you all.

  “Be safe, my brothers. Until we meet again.”

  They didn’t know it, but the support from his brethren had given him the strength to journey into the most important mission of his life. Operation Haven.

  Failure was not an option.

  14

  There was nothing quite like being in Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day. Traditionally a religious holiday, there were vast differences between the celebrations in the US versus the celebrations in Ireland. Liam’s favorite? A body would be hard pressed to find a green beer anywhere in Ireland.

  The streets of Killarney were packed with people by the time Liam arrived in the late afternoon. After his flight landed, he’d taken some time to make a few phone calls back home. Once he’d made some arrangements, he’d procured a car and made the four-hour drive across Ireland to get from Dublin to Killarney.

  The long flight had given him time to do some soul-searching. Somehow, he’d managed to create an amazing lifetime of friendship with Haven without really letting her in. He’d shared the happy and the confusing stuff. The make her laugh stuff. The make her come screaming his name stuff.

  But the hard stuff? The stuff that he’d shoved way down deep? He’d kept that all to himself.

  He hadn’t withheld from her on purpose. His emotions were suppressed by a decade of rigorous training. His job as a SEAL demanded extreme discretion and secrecy, which mean his communication skills weren’t the best, either.

  He’d vowed to change all that somewhere over the Atlantic. Looking back, he probably should’ve spent the time figuring out what the hell he was going to say when he found Haven, but it was too late now.

  Liam weaved through the celebrators in the street as he made his way toward O’Somachain’s. The city had grown a lot in the twenty years—to the day—since Liam had last been there, but the landmarks he remembered from his youth still remained.

  Live Irish music poured from the open door of his destination. Liam took it all in. The upper floor facade of O’Somachain’s was covered in natural rock. The lower floor was painted a deep green with the name of the pub spelled in large white, block letters that went across the entire front. The sounds and the smells that drifted from the door were inviting. A sense of pride went through him that this was his girl’s place. That she was responsible for providing the kind of carefree happiness that went with a night on the town.

  Liam went inside.

  Another difference between America and Ireland? The pubs in Ireland tended to be smaller, less open, more intimate. O’Somachain’s was no different. Definitely not the kind of place a guy of his size could easily hide. Dark wood covered the walls, the floors, tables, and the bar, giving the pub a moody feel.

  His height gave him an advantage because Liam spotted his little pixie right away. Behind the bar. Red hair in a messy knot. Cheeks flushed. Suspicion mixed with wonder on her beautiful face.

  And she was looking directly at him.

  Liam started for her, and in true Haven fashion, she came at him full bore. And this time, he was ready. He caught her mid-air, his breath puffing from his lungs as their chests collided. It was a warmer welcome than he’d been prepared for, and the way she clung to him made him feel like a fucking superhero.

  “What are you doin’ here?” She demanded against his throat as she attempted to squeeze the life out of him.

  The fact that she thought he could be anywhere else meant he had some work to do. “You promised me a month when you came to California. You still owe me three weeks. I’m here to collect.”

  “You can’t just come in here and expect to steal me back to California!”

  Liam laughed. “Not there. Here. I’m staying in Killarney for a while.” Or forever. His confidence in the latter grew by t
he minute.

  He set her back on her feet. Taking a chance that his luck had returned—because so far, so good—Liam leaned in to kiss her.

  Haven put her hand in front of his face. “You’re not goin’ to be collectin’ anythin’ right now, Liam Jamison. Do you see this crowd?”

  Her accent did crazy things to his blood. Sent it racing through his veins to pool in his dick.

  “There are things we need to talk about Haven. Things I need to tell you.” Liam unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve and rolled it to his elbow. “It’ll keep until the bar closes tonight, but no longer. Understood?”

  She nodded, licking her lips as she watched him roll the other sleeve.

  Interesting. If she liked his forearms that much, Liam would add a little flair to his drink mixing tonight and give her a real show.

  “What are you doin’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “We’ve got a lot of thirsty people standing around, pix. What do you think I’m doing?”

  Haven’s mouth gaped as he joined her behind the bar. She was so adorable, Liam couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to her open mouth, taking fast advantage of the unrestricted access to her tongue. He swallowed her groan with a silent promise to find new ways every day to get that sound from her. For now, though, he clapped his hands over his head in time with the music and tossed his girl a wink. “Let’s do this.”

  Haven poured another pint, her gaze darting toward her handsome co-bartender.

  She couldn’t believe Liam was there. When she’d left California, she’d thought she’d never see him again. Until she could learn how to be friends with him again without her heart breaking each time they spoke, Haven had decided the best route was to limit their contact. Not forever. Just until she thought she could stand to hear about some woman he’d dated without wanting to sob her eyes out. Okay, maybe forever.

  He’d travelled all the way to Ireland to see her. That had to mean something, right? She wouldn’t try to speculate what—she was done with assumptions. She would just wait to hear what he had to say.