Angelo: A Second Chance Navy SEAL Romance

by Carlisle, Lisa

  Still, she’d glimpsed enough to note he’d grown from a teenage boy into a man—a man who filled out every line and angle of his suit to mouthwatering perfection. The beard suited him, adding to the devastating allure.

  When he’d extended his hand to dance, she’d curled her fingers around his. The mere touch of his skin sent sparks dancing up her arm. A flush rose in her chest, and she prayed it didn’t reach her face. She was not a blushing teenager any longer; she was an educated woman with a career. She should not let a simple dance rattle her.

  But there was nothing simple about it. When he’d clasped one hand and dropped his other to her lower back, she could barely remember how to dance. With her breaths turning shallow, she’d had to take a deep inhale to regain enough oxygen. She’d momentarily forgotten where to put her other hand until he led. Luckily, her hand seemed to know where to find his shoulder.

  As he led her on this dance, the connection between them simmered. Heat, vibrant and powerful, radiated through her body. She couldn’t let him see how he’d affected her. Hadn’t she just been up here with the groomsman she was paired with minutes ago? She compared this dance to the previous one. A mandatory pairing, almost clinical. No sparks.

  But with Angelo? Wow. Almost magical.

  She hadn’t experienced a reaction this powerful in the years they’d been apart, not since the night before he’d shipped out. In the years that followed, she thought she must have built the memory up to something greater in her mind, but now touching him, his hands on her, it all came rushing back. It was real. It had always been.

  Until he just admitted he didn’t know who she was. Ouch. Humiliation hit her hard, twisting inside her with a burn that intensified with each moment. Being overlooked hit one of her sore spots. The quiet, brainy ones like her were often invisible.

  Catherine wasn’t naïve enough to think that Angelo still held a torch for her, but maybe, just maybe a spark of interest. Since he’d asked for her name, that doused that fantasy like a flash flood. She wasn’t important enough to be remembered.

  With him so close, and his lips just inches from hers, he was close enough to kiss.

  Or slap.

  Why not? He deserved it. She’d jolt him with a reminder of exactly who she was. Was she so inconsequential among the women in his life that she didn’t even register as someone from his past? He was the one who looked so damn different with longer hair and she’d still been able to recognize him from afar.

  She focused on other couples dancing around them. Happy couples. Couples in love. Not suffering from a smoldering, mortifying burn. No way would she give him the satisfaction of knowing how his words had hurt her.

  “So, what is it?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  “What’s what?”

  “Your name.”

  Shit, she’d gone way down memory lane, forgetting to respond. If she told him who she was and he still didn’t remember her, that would be a double blow. And at a wedding no less. Total rejection. Not here, not now. Self-preservation kicked in. Swallowing a lump that had frozen in her throat, she gave the first name that came to mind. “Melody.”

  As soon as the name fell from his lips, a twinge of regret hit her. Maybe lying wasn’t the best option.

  Ah, but she’d been identified when they’d introduced the bridal party.

  “Melody,” he repeated. “Like a song. I like it.”

  She exhaled. He didn’t seem to note the discrepancy. Maybe he’d been distracted.

  “Are you family or friend?” he asked.

  Should she continue with the lie? Keeping up with one would be hard enough, the deeper she went in, the harder it would be to remember the details. “Friend. Diana and I were roommates in college.” That was true.

  “And you’re still close. That’s great.”

  He pulled her a tad tighter as they danced, and she became hyperaware of how her body reacted to his touch. Good God, he smelled so good. A clean-soap scent and underlying male musk that was so alluring she could lean into his chest and drown in it. His closeness was impossible to ignore, swallowing up the space between them with magnetic power.

  The lyrics swam in her head, tormenting Catherine with a reminder that she’d never truly gotten over him.

  When another couple exchanged a quick greeting with Angelo, she stole a glance at his face. The years were more than just kind to him, they were unfairly gracious. He’d lost the cuteness of his teenage face as he’d filled out to a man. Gone was the youthful innocence, replaced by the experience of a man who might have seen too much. What was it that he’d gone through over the last decade? She wanted to ask him about the Navy, see if he went for his dream of becoming a SEAL. Was he still in? They’d kept in touch in the beginning, but with busy lives separating in different directions, they’d lost touch.

  Ah, she couldn’t ask him anything since she’d supposedly just met him moments before. She was Melody, a bridesmaid, and he was a wedding guest, Angelo, whom she knew nothing about.

  Except how good her traitorous body felt being in his arms despite the mental anguish of being forgotten.

  He’s a jerk. Totally forgot you. You’re probably just one on a long list of women in his life.

  Was she overreacting? They’d never been serious. They’d lived several towns apart and neither had a car. Spring of senior year swarmed with graduation activities and they’d only gotten together a handful of times. Their short relationship was mostly over the phone. Besides, it was foolish to grow attached to someone the spring before high school graduation when he’d be going to the Navy and her to MIT.

  But she had.

  Their relationship clearly meant more to her than him. Humiliation resurfaced with a biting sting. She wanted to ream him out.

  No, not here. She couldn’t make a scene at her friend’s wedding. That would make her the shittiest of bridesmaids. If she learned anything in her first time in this role, it was not to steal attention from the bride on her big day.

  “Where did you and Diana go to school?” Angelo asked.

  Catherine pursed her lips before replying. In their senior year, he knew she was going to MIT. In fact, she’d tried to convince him to go to college with his stellar academic record. One of their conversations about it flashed in her mind.

  “Why not go to college and join ROTC?” she’d asked.

  “I can go to school while in the Navy,” he’d said.

  He’d been hell-bent on becoming a Navy SEAL as soon as possible. What he hadn’t told her was that he’d already enlisted. He’d saved that for the following week when he’d said goodbye, said he was headed out to basic training. That had been the last time she’d seen him until tonight.

  Not wanting to ring any bells to trigger who she really was, she lied. “Brown.” It wasn’t completely a lie since she went there for her PhD, but it wasn’t where she roomed with Diana.

  She kept her gaze averted. What if he knew where Diana went to school? Crap, if she kept building up her tall tale, it would end up crumbling apart eventually, like a game of Jenga.

  “What about you?” she asked. “How do you know Diana and Ryan?”

  “Ryan’s father is my dad’s old Navy buddy. They’re like family to us.”

  “Oh,” she replied, wanting to follow up with many questions, but not sure where to start. “Are you in the military too?”

  “Guilty. My dad’s retired, but my youngest brother and I are both Navy. My other brother is a Marine.”

  “We’re the third generation in the service,” he added. “My grandfather moved here from Italy and lied about his age to enlist at seventeen.”

  “Committed.”

  Her mind raced back to the end of senior year. She’d taken his departure after graduation hard, no matter how many times she’d tried to convince herself it was stupid.

  What stung most was how often she’d thought of him since then. She had debated on searching for him online, but never did. If he was happily married w
ith a brood of kids, she didn’t want it paraded around in front of her.

  Now he was here at the wedding with no wedding band in sight and no sign of a girlfriend or fiancée.

  Shania sang the final lines, which meant Catherine’s mortification could soon end. She could run away and pretend she never ran into him here tonight.

  A hollow ache expanded inside her. Why did that option torment her worse than being forgotten?

  Haunted by her conflicting thoughts and the heat simmering on every spot where he touched her body, she barely noticed when the band shifted into a more upbeat song. The other bridesmaids hooted and dragged others onto the floor.

  “Woo, let’s dance!” Diana’s cousin said, clasping her hand.

  “One second.” She pulled her hand away and glanced at Angelo.

  “Thanks.” He smiled. “Have fun with the ladies. Maybe we can have a drink later.”

  He walked away, and she was instantly swallowed in a sea of rose satin-clad bridesmaids. The spots of her body where his hands had been now cooled with his sudden absence. Remembering her duties, she cheered and danced with the others, while trying to process what had happened.

  She glanced out through the crowd to find him, but he’d disappeared. If he asked about her at all, her tangled web of fabrications could unravel with the slightest tug. Lying might not have been the best option.

  Too late now. She bit her lip. Could she get through the night without him discovering her duplicity?

  Chapter Three

  Angelo

  After the dance, Angelo searched for his family. He spotted his brothers in a line three deep at the bar.

  He smirked. “How did I guess I’d find you here?”

  “Open bar. Hardly a challenge,” Matty noted with a lopsided grin.

  Vince gave a half-nod. “Who were you dancing with?”

  “Friend of the bride.” Angelo stared at each of them and warned with a lighthearted grin, “And back off.”

  Matty laughed. “Come on, even the K9s I work with aren’t this territorial.”

  “Shots for all,” his father announced, joining them at the bar. He placed the order and then said, “Stogies on the beach. Who’s in?”

  “Haven’t had one of those in years,” Angelo replied. Possibly not since returning from his first deployment. He’d been so green. Treating the wounded had taken more of an emotional toll than he’d anticipated. Those dark memories could wait until he was alone. No doubt they’d worm their way into his mind.

  Vince handed out the shot glasses the bartender had placed on the bar. “To being together again.”

  “Hell yeah,” Matty said. “Who knows if and when we’ll get a chance to do this again?”

  The unspoken loomed between them. Anything could go wrong during a mission and usually did. Not everyone returned home.

  Their father raised his glass, but when he spoke his voice hitched. “To now and many more times in the future.”

  Angelo drank the shot. The whiskey burned down his throat. After they all lowered their glasses, they exited out the French doors onto a grassy area before the beach. A group of people smoked cigars near a cluster of white Adirondack chairs facing the bay, twinkling lights reflecting on the water’s surface. The scent of cigar smoke mixed in with that of the ocean.

  When Ryan saw them approach, he hugged each one and handed them cigars. “I can’t believe you all made it to my wedding. My favorite uncle and cousins!”

  They laughed. They’d spent more time growing up with their adopted naval families than their blood relatives.

  “We’re thrilled to be here,” Angelo replied.

  “Congrats,” Vince added.

  “Looks like you found yourself a good woman.” Matty glanced around. “How are you already out of her sight?”

  “She’s catching up with old friends. Good time to escape for a cigar,” Ryan said. “But you’re right, I’m a lucky guy.” He nodded. Glancing at each in turn he said, “None of you are ready to take the plunge yet?”

  “Hell no,” Matty said. “Doesn’t fit with the lifestyle.”

  “Oh, come on,” Ryan said. “Your parents have been married for what, over thirty years?” He turned to their dad for confirmation.

  “Affirmative,” his father said. “And I was in the Navy for most of the time.”

  His father had left out the times when he and his mom had separated. Military marriages were difficult. Multiple moves and deployments took a toll. Angelo couldn’t put someone through what his mother had gone through.

  “I’m away more than home,” Angelo said. “Few women would put up with that.”

  Angelo had met some of his teammates’ wives. They were strong, patient—it took a special woman to sign up for this lifestyle where the mission came first.

  He peeked into the reception area. Melody’s back was toward him as she danced with the other bridesmaids and friends. They were having a good time, the way girls did when they got together and danced, smiling about who-knows-what girl things. The sway of her body in that satin dress did fresh things to his libido. What was she like?

  Wait, he’d had one dance with her. He wanted to spend the night with her, that was it. What the hell had gotten into him? One more example of how the last mission had rattled him, making him search for a safe anchor while he was on leave.

  Pathetic.

  He didn’t do relationships. As the saying went, he was already married to the SEALs.

  “Whoever’s footing the bill is going to flip when they see the tab,” Matty said. “Didn’t they know how many sailors would be here tonight?”

  “My dad’s call, and it’s on him,” Ryan said. “He said sailors don’t give a crap about the flower arrangements or ice sculptures, but they care a hell of a lot about the drinks.”

  “Your dad’s a smart man and absolutely right.” Matty raised his glass. “Cheers.”

  Angelo zeroed in on Melody again. He wanted to go back and dance with her but nope, bad idea. Slow dancing was fine, but he definitely did not have Moves like Jagger, the song playing, no matter what the whiskey might be telling him. His finesse moving through obstacles with a weapon didn’t carry over to the dance floor.

  “Damn, Doc,” Matty said. “You got a hard-on for that girl or what?”

  Angelo blinked before turning to his brother. “What?”

  “You keep staring at her.”

  “Careful,” Vince said. “She’s going to think you’re creeping on her.”

  Shit. They were right. He had to snap out of it.

  Ryan turned to look. “Who is it?”

  “No one,” Angelo said.

  “The bridesmaid to the left of Diana,” Matty pointed out.

  “Catherine?” Ryan said.

  “No, Melody,” Angelo clarified.

  “Melody?” Ryan scrunched his face in deep thought. “I don’t know any guests named Melody. Definitely not one of the bridesmaids.”

  Matty’s eyes widened and his face contorted with amusement before he burst into laughter. “She lied to you about her name.”

  “Brilliant,” Vince added in a wry tone. “Smooth.”

  “Funny.” He ignored them and turned to Ryan. “The brunette in the pink bridesmaid’s dress, her name is Catherine?”

  Ryan nodded. “Yes. She was Diane’s roommate in college.”

  Angelo gritted his teeth as his warning antennae went up. “At Brown, right?”

  “Brown?” Ryan repeated. “No. Where did you get that?”

  More snickers from his brothers followed. Melody, or Catherine whatever her real name was, had said Brown. No question about it, she’d straight up lied to him.

  He swallowed hard. He detested lies. If she wasn’t interested in him, fine. She didn’t have to play him and make him look like an ass in front of his family and friends.

  Time to confront her and find out why she lied to him. Twice.

  Catherine

  Catherine stared at herself in the mirror of t
he ladies’ room. Did she look all that different from what she’d looked like at seventeen? Her hair was pinned up and locked in place, courtesy of countless hair products the stylists had used on her earlier. Curly tendrils hung loosely at the sides of her face, softening the pinned back look. And she’d enhance the drab brown color with a reddish hint. Maybe it wasn’t what he was used to—straight brown hair that hung without a hint of a wave down her back.

  What about her face? Certainly, that hadn’t changed too much in ten years. Sure, she ditched her eyeglasses for contacts, and the stylists had painted her with more makeup than she ever thought she’d agree to wear, but still. It was her face!

  And her voice—another thing he could have recognized but didn’t. Sure, they hadn’t said more than a few words. Hot tears burned her eyes. Damn him.

  A reminder of his delicious scent and how she practically lit up in his arms worked its way through the anguish. No, she wouldn’t think of that. She wasn’t a naïve, love-struck teenager anymore. She wouldn’t get sucked in by his charm again. Besides self-preservation, she could go for a little payback. Rattle him up to make him uncomfortable. But how?

  She thought of some pranks her students had run. No, she didn’t have the capacity to pull off anything elaborate. But, there had to be a way to make him squirm. What had made her uncomfortable?

  That disturbing message from Trent was still vivid in her mind. Maybe she could work with that. As she tried to brainstorm a plan, the ladies room door flung open. Diana burst in, her cheeks aglow, appearing radiant in her white satin gown with her blonde hair and makeup still perfect. On spotting Catherine’s troubled expression, Diana’s smile dropped.

  “Uh oh, what is it?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m not used to all this mascara.”