by Zoe Dawson
“Mom! Your heart!”
“My heart is fine. You mind your business, and I’ll take care of mine, young man.”
“Whoa. That was the best Baa-baa tone I have ever heard,” Ceri said.
His mom snorted and there was a chuckle.
He looked down at Jo. “Wow, she put you in your place, sailor boy.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Ceri said, “Mommy? You okay?”
Jo nodded.
“Daddy saved you. It was amazing. I think he’s part dolphin and part doctor.”
Jo looked up at him, and her gaze grasped him in a vice. Her eyes were a warm brown, but he’d never noticed those flecks of gorgeous green around the pupil.
“My hero,” she whispered, wrapping her hand around his wrist, warm and soft. Her voice was hoarse, gratitude in every word.
He thought he might actually cry. He was so relieved she was all right. She was shivering and had a gash on her temple, but Jo was sassy enough to give him a hard time.
She smiled, and he smiled back, and for one electric moment their eyes held. In that instant, Dragon had the overpowering sensation that some incomplete part of him had just connected with something in her, and he felt a kind of closeness, a kind of harmony he’d never experienced with anyone else. The effect was staggering.
He drew a ragged breath, and his gaze slid to her mouth, his hand turning, breaking her hold on his wrist so he could slip his fingers through hers, his thumb caressing her palm, his mouth aching to do the same to her lips.
He ripped his eyes away from her and focused on the gash. “You’re bleeding,” he said, to help him to recover from the impact of Jo. He used the edge of his T-shirt to dab at it. “Those little drunken bast…louts didn’t even stop to help. I’m going to make sure to lodge a complaint.”
“His boot caught me as he went over, and it was lights out.” Jo’s voice sounded depressed and nasally, like she had a cold.
She tried to get up, but he said, “No, just rest. We’re almost there. The Granny Express is on the job.”
His mom just snorted, and Ceri giggled. “I thought being a grown-up was going to be boring, but it’s clear it’s more fun than being a kid with the bad words and sarcasm. I’m a big fangirl.”
Jo’s eyes were dancing. “Don’t I know it, but believe me, Ceri. We need to say bad words and incorporate sarcasm, so we don’t lose our minds.”
When they got to the wooden dock, the boat assistant went to help them, then realized Jo was hurt. Ceri started to tell him about the drunken louts and his mouth compressed into a hard line. “Yeah, I know who they are. We’ll make sure to ban them in the future. Do you want me to call the police?”
“No,” Jo said. “It was an accident, and you’re going to make sure they don’t go out on the lake again. It’s all fine.”
“I’m very sorry this happened to you. I have a first aid kit in the shop. Let’s get you bandaged, and I’ll personally give you a ride home.”
Jo didn’t have to move a muscle. Dragon lifted her, cuddling her close to him as he followed the assistant. A shiver coursed through her that had nothing to do with the cold. He radiated heat against her skin, the movement of his body powerful as he carried her inside and sat with her on the couch near a far wall. When the assistant brought out the first aid kit, he was carrying blankets. He covered her as Dragon took the kit out of his hand. “I’ve got this. Could you take those blankets to my mom and daughter?”
“Sure, I’ll whip them up a cup of hot chocolate, man. Glad you’re all safe.”
He left the room, and she stared at his handsome face as he opened the white box with the red plus sign. She saw how his hands were trembling. He fumbled with the lid, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She cupped his face and gently turned him toward her. “I’m okay,” she whispered, and he closed his eyes.
“God, Jo. Fuck!” That fierce outburst made Jo’s senses go crazy, and she closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath, trying to curb the feelings inside her. Opening her eyes, she looked at him, almost afraid to move for fear of doing something to break the spell. His expression compressed into hard lines, he stared at her, his eyes dark, fathomless depths.
“I couldn’t find you.” His breathing was ragged, and her grip went urgent and tense, almost desperate. He held her gaze for an instant, his hair shining blue-black in the overhead light, his high cheekbones accentuating the lines of strain around his mouth. “I’ve never been scared like that, Jo.”
There was nothing to say to him. Thank you was so…weak compared to the powerful feelings twisting around her heart.
She rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone, his strong jaw flexing against her palm. She covered his mouth. Kissing him wasn’t about desire, it was about comfort. His arms came around her in a crushing embrace, but his mouth stayed warm and gentle, filled with tenderness.
Her voice caught on raw emotion as she struggled to get out the words. “You saved our daughter, and you saved me.”
He went still, then released an unsteady sigh and slid his hand under her hair and up the back of her neck, spanning the base of her skull. There was a flare of emotion in his eyes.
“It’s what I do. It’s the core of me.”
“I know,” she whispered. “It’s why Asahi’s death hit you so hard. You couldn’t save him.”
His chest expanding, he pulled her against him.
“You know I can’t take all the credit for saving you. My mom was great.”
“Gen’s pretty amazing. I understand she said bad words?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, Ceri has the forgiveness kisses covered.”
“She’s a piece of work, just calling you dad like that. How do you feel about it?”
He pulled back and with gentle hands he opened the kit and took out gauze. “I feel lucky as hell,” he murmured. “You both are making me get back in touch with my heart.” He cleaned her cut, then put a butterfly bandage on it.
“You’re pretty good at that.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “All SEALs are trained in first aid. I can stitch up wounds, administer blood, and actually know how to use a tourniquet.”
She slipped her hand in his. “No. I meant opening your heart.” Just then the boat assistant came back into the room.
“You look as good as new.” He handed them both mugs of steaming cocoa. It was warm going down, but not as warm as Dragon’s eyes as he wiped a bit of foam off her upper lip.
She thought she was in trouble before, but it was nothing compared to the hot water she’d just been dropped into.
10
The boat assistant drove them home and let them keep the blankets. Dragon promised to return them the next day. The guy waved as he pulled away. Back up in the apartment, Gen retreated to her room to get out of her wet clothes.
When Jo headed toward Ceri’s room, Dragon said, “I’ve got her covered. You go get your shower, and I’ll run her a hot bath.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, dumbfounded, realizing this is what it would be like if they were co-habitating. It made her heart do little flips and her stomach flutter. To have him take care of Ceri made her both happy and wary. Could this really last?
She went to her room, feeling a bit queasy. She stripped out of her clothes, wrapping herself up in her warm robe. In the bathroom, she took her shower, the shivering finally abating as the heat seeped into her. Donning a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, she headed back down the hall.
Dragon was draining the tub as Ceri walked out of the bathroom, her hair smelling clean and fresh. “Mommy,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around her legs. “I was really scared, but I was really brave too. Dad taught me to combat breathe.”
Her head raised and her gaze collided with his. He gave her that adorable off-center grin and rubbed the back of his neck. His chest was bare, and he was only wearing a pair of sweatpants that he must have hastily donned.
Another kind of heat infused her as her eyes traveled over his bro
ad shoulders, his biceps thickening as he brought his arm back down. Damn that man could melt any woman’s clothes right off their body.
She cupped Ceri’s head then went down on her level. “Sometimes bad things can happen, but we have to do the best we can to get through them. I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you too.” She kissed her then hugged her tight.
“Get into your pj’s and I’ll make you dinner. How about mac and cheese and some chicken?”
“Deal,” she said.
Gen came out of her room and looked in the bathroom. “Clear for me?”
“Of course, Mom, you go first.”
“Dragon, you can use my bathroom. All Gen’s stuff is in here.”
“Okay,” he said as he exited the bathroom. Gen turned to her, and without saying a word, she wrapped Jo in a fierce hug and held on to her so tightly it brought tears to her eyes.
Jo just let her get it all out.
Gen cupped her face, blinking rapidly. “You are like a daughter to me, and I love that little girl with all my heart.”
“I know. We love you too, you tough cookie.”
Jo headed down the hall singing, row, row, row your boat, and she heard Gen snort behind her.
“Smart-ass,” Gen murmured and closed the door with a snap.
She turned when she got to her door and collided with Dragon. All that hot skin and thick muscle slid over her palms as she grasped his waist to steady herself.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
She let him go and opened her door, feeling…jumpy that he was in her room. She closed the door and led him to the bathroom. “There are clean towels in the linen closet behind the door. I’ve got some left-over lasagna I can heat up for us while Ceri has her mac and chicken.”
He nodded, brushing past her. Good God. His back…wow. Those angel wings suited him, flaring out across layers of muscle and sinew, designed by wonderful DNA and perfected by lifting iron to get strong to weather any threat he faced. It’s how he stayed alive in the places they went, in doing the dangerous and hard missions they were tasked with. She shivered when she reached his waist, his powerful butt holding up those pants quite…spectacularly. Her eyes traveled back up his body and her fingers twitched to touch the dark hair just brushing his nape.
His muscles rippled as he turned on the water. Then he cleared his throat. Her eyes went to his face looking at her over his shoulder. “What’s going on there, babe?”
She flushed and bit her lip, giving him a wry grin, not at all apologetic. “You really can’t blame a girl,” she murmured.
He dropped his head and laughed, and Jo experienced a sizzling sensation that made her catch her breath. It was the first time she’d heard him really laugh, and the transformation in him was amazing. There was a lighthearted buoyancy that stripped years off him, and Jo was mesmerized. So, she thought dazedly, beneath the sober demeanor, beneath the solemn weight of responsibility, there was another Ryuu Shannon, one who was appealing in a different way. And the fizz turned into an intoxicating rush.
She drew in a deep breath and tried to stem the excitement shooting through her, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I’m so glad that amuses you.” She bit back a smile. “You’re beautiful, so there. I said it.”
Rising, he shook his head and expelled the last of his laughter on a deep sigh, his eyes still dancing as he grinned at her. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to haul you in here. Neither one of us wants that.”
It was as if he threw cold water on her. What? What did that mean? He’d kissed her. He’d held her. He’d told her she was amazing.
She backed up and said, “Right,” then fled. She was getting way ahead of herself here. Of course that was something he didn’t want, getting tangled up in her when they hadn’t even worked out some kind of custody agreement. Getting what she wanted might make her happy, but the complications had to be heeded. Damn her female hormones.
She reached for the door handle, but he caught her by the shoulder.
“Jo…”
She turned. “No, you’re right. We can’t act like randy teenagers. We’re adults, and we must act like adults dealing with heavy issues and emotions.” She sagged back against the door. Lifting her chin, she gave him a prim smile. “Damn, I couldn’t help it.”
She experienced that flustered feeling again when he gave her a knowing half smile. It was a good thing the door was supporting her as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Babe, if it’s any consolation, my dick is so hard, I’m looking at a cold shower, so I don’t shock the hell out of my mom.”
“Mommy?” Ceri’s voice came through the door.
This was new—being a mommy and a desirable woman, caught between all that muscle that housed a lethally skilled man with strong character and the door separating her from the duties as a mother. She rolled her eyes at herself. Yeah, right. She wanted his strong character all right. For the first time since she’d had Ceri, she wished…well, she knew what she wished, but he wasn’t cooperating, just being a big, gorgeous, hunk of tease.
“I’m coming, baby. Just give me a second. Please set the table. The dishes are in the dishwasher.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She put her hand against all that hot, hard skin and shoved. Things were getting tough when a man who she’d conceived a baby with was off limits. This irresistible man. “No, Ryuu David Shannon, aka Dragon, aka the biggest tease on the planet. That doesn’t help at all. Now all I can think about is…your dick…and stroking you until you only need a shower because you’re hot and sweaty.”
His eyes narrowed, and it was as if the sweetness of Dragon fell off him to reveal this steely-eyed man, like the shift from Clark Kent to Superman. His hand darted out and slipped around her nape, tangling in the strands of her hair. He tightened his hold just short of painful, but damn if she didn’t want just a small amount of it to tether herself to him. He pulled her head back, exposing her neck and thrusting her breasts against his chest as her hand fell away.
This was Dragon—the Navy SEAL. Like his namesake, he looked fierce and unwavering as though his heated breath could take out a whole city without much effort. He was larger than life, more alert, more substance, more mass, just more. One minute he was standing there, the next he was on—warrior on. Like some internal switch had been flipped and he was just suddenly more.
Oh, God, George R. R. Martin had been so freaking right. If you wanted to conquer the world, you best have dragons. She wanted him to conquer her world as everything narrowed down to those full lips, his current weapon of choice.
His jaw flexed, and he dipped his head, letting her hair go, burying his face in her neck. “I mean this with all due respect, Jo,” he growled softly. “Get the fuck out.”
She fumbled for the knob, and he pushed away from her, disappearing into the bathroom. She gathered her ragged wits and lashed at her libido. Jo was aware the danger didn’t come from flying with a dragon. The trouble was the long fall. She’d experienced it once already. She wasn’t sure she could survive a second time. Her heart wasn’t the only one on the line here. But the temptation of touching the stars was almost too irresistible. Maybe her courage and his wings were all they needed to fly.
She spent a couple of seconds in the hall with the closed door between them getting her breathing under control. If Gen saw her now, she would know. Who was she kidding? Gen already knew.
The apartment seemed too warm, the mugginess pressing down on her like a wet blanket. The sound of rain pounded against the fire escape and the roof. Above her, the ominous sound of thunder rumbled off in the distance.
Pitbull was shit-faced. A very mature way to deal with your agonizing revelations and emotions, bro, he thought with disgust. He was sprawled on the couch, the half full bottle of Jack on his coffee table. If he was smart, he would stop there, eat something to soak up all the alcohol in his stomach, but the thought of food made him feel queasy. He was actually being supremely f
oolish. If he got a deployment call, he was going to be in more trouble.
He closed his eyes, agonizing once again about what he’d found out with his biological daughter, Samantha. There was a reason he felt close to the girl, bonded with her on a level he just thought was affection for a teammate’s kid.
But no.
He’d had no clue he was her father, which brought up all kinds of feelings that had nothing to do with coveting a teammate’s wife.
Fuck! What a complicated mess.
His phone rang and he sat up, his gut clenching. He looked at his phone with bleary eyes. Relief rushed through him. It wasn’t command. It was his brother, Robin. Pitbull was part of a trio of brothers from the Midwest. They were trips born to Ida and Les Ballentine. His mom had a penchant for Errol Leslie Thomson Flynn, an Australian-born but well-known American actor during the Golden Age of Hollywood. He was famous for his daring and romantic swashbuckler roles. His mom had taken her love of him to heart, naming her sons Errol and Flynn. She’d chosen his most famous role for his brother Robin. Little did she know they would all become SEALs. Their call names were Pirate and Hood, respectively.
Homesick all of a sudden and pressing questions he wanted to ask his brothers but was afraid to ask made him almost avoid the call. But if he did, they would hound him. It was that multiple birth bonding thing that haunted children who’d shared a womb together, an almost sixth sense.
“What’s up?” he answered.
It was Robin and Flynn. They both asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “What makes you think something’s wrong.”
“Oh, fuck, he’s drunk. Why are you drinking?” Flynn demanded. “Do we have to come over there and kick your ass?”
“Like you could,” he said, and both his brothers laughed. They probably engaged in shoving matches inside the womb.
“Really, man. We got this vibe on you and we’re calling to make sure you’re doing all right,” Hood said.
