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SEAL's Secret Baby (A Navy SEAL Romance) by Ivy Jordan (66)


Chapter Twenty-Nine

Xander

 

“Where are they?” I demanded as Liam walked through the cabin door.

“Where are what?” he asked, surprised.

“The fuckin’ letters, where are they?” I demanded one last time.

“I don’t have them,” he insisted.

I stared into his eyes, trying to read past the calm, cool stare he gave me. I couldn’t find any signs of guilt.

“Then where are they?” I questioned, giving up the anger in my voice.

“You shoved them in a book,” he pointed towards the coffee table.

I rushed over, pulling the book from under the table and shaking it until all the letters fell to the floor. My heart calmed instantly, and I felt like an ass for accusing Liam of taking them.

“Wow, you really need to calm down,” he chuckled, dropping his large duffle and backpack onto the counter.

“I just-you were gone, and I couldn’t find them. I thought you mailed them,” I explained.

“And what would be so bad if I did?” he asked.

My teeth grinded together as I fought back the comments flooding my mind. “I’m just not ready to send them. I may never send them. They’re for me,” I huffed.

I took the letters and shoved them in the nightstand by my bed. I wasn’t taking any more chances that Liam wouldn’t just take it on his own to mail them or even hand deliver them to Bailey.

“I got more supplies,” he smiled, emptying out his bags onto the counter.

“Jesus, how long you plan on staying?” I questioned.

“Long as I need to,” he laughed. “Why? You ready for me to go?” he added with a smirk.

I was ready for him to go before he ever arrived, but I knew I done better with him here than I did alone, so I didn’t push any more. I did wonder about his life, why it was so easy for him to drop everything and just hang out here in the woods with me.

“There was a funeral today. I got caught behind the recessional,” he said softly.

“That had to dive ya nuts, I know how you hate traffic,” I teased.

“It was huge, taking up the entire town. Cars wouldn’t even fit in the cemetery. I watched as people walked blocks to get to the service,” he gushed.

“Must’ve been someone pretty important down there,” I noted, pulling the large bottle of shampoo from the bag.

“You don’t like my shampoo?” I questioned.

“It smells like tree bark,” he joked.

I continued unloading the items, shocked at how much he fit into the two bags and feeling a little guilty for not sharing in the load and making the trip with him this time.

“I asked the hardware store owner about the funeral. I noticed a lot of Navy men dressed in their blues, and he said it was Jackson Martin,” Liam spilled.

My heart raced as I tried to absorb what he just told me.

“That’s Bailey’s dad. I talked to him last week. He said he was doing better,” I gasped, falling to the chair by the table.

“Obviously not as good as he thought,” Liam groaned.

Wow. Poor, Bailey. I wanted desperately to run down the mountain and hold her in my arms.

“Did you see her?” I asked reluctantly.

“Bailey? No, I’m sure she was at the cemetery, and you needed a VIP pass to get in there today,” he smiled. “Why don’t you go to her?” Liam urged.

“She doesn’t need my shit in her life. Sounds like she has enough going on,” I sighed.

“Well, then talk to someone, get your shit together,” he pushed.

I chuckled, shaking off the conversation. My heart was breaking in two for Bailey. I couldn’t even think about her without feeling like the wind was knocked out of me.

“I’ll stick to manual labor,” I smirked.

“Great, what’s on the agenda for today?” Liam rolled his eyes.

I’d been doing pretty well with staying busy, but I was wearing Liam out as he tried to keep up. I’d bought the cabin in the middle of winter, so there were plenty of projects to focus on. Now that spring was around the corner, and the snow was all starting to melt, some projects were becoming more visible than others.

“The roof,” I grinned.

Liam grumbled at the news.

“You can always go back home to your cushy life,” I teased.

“Cushy? Really?” he growled.

I loved getting under his skin. He’d been a personal trainer for years, and a majority of his clients were rich oil tycoon wives. They were all trying to keep their figure, and their husbands, with plenty of younger women looking to get their turn at the black gold.

“Yeah, I mean how hard is it to work out with fifty-year-old women?” I snickered.

“Fifty? Try more like thirty, barely thirty. These are third wives, and the threat of a twenty-year old fourth wife makes them relentless,” he laughed.

The thought of Liam surrounded by a bunch of desperate women made me laugh. He was always a pretty shy guy, not much for talking to the ladies, and now, that’s all he dealt with on a daily basis.

“How’s work going?” I questioned, digging through the bag for the nails I’d asked him to pick up.

“I took some time off,” he smiled, not offering up any more reasoning.

I didn’t push. It wasn’t my business unless he wanted to tell me. If only he was so subtle when pushing into my life.

“Ready to get started?” I held the nails up in my hand.

“Sure,” he hesitated.

I liked it better when Liam and I worked together and didn’t do as much talking. My nightmares had calmed down, and he’d mentioned that he noticed, but I didn’t tell him why. I fell asleep each night to the same dream that pulled me from the nightmare over a week ago. Bailey waited on a sandy beach, her long red hair blowing in the wind, and the moon light glistening off her skin. It was sweet, calming, and helped keep the flashes of light, screaming men, and feeling of doom from looming over me while I slept.

Liam grabbed the ladder from the shed, propping it up against the cabin. I climbed up, stared down the mountain, and had that sinking feeling that Bailey needed me, and I was letting her down.

“Throw me those nails,” I called down.

The brown paper bag of nails was sent flying up over my head, landing behind me on the peak of the roof.

I picked them up, gripping the hammer from my tool belt, and walked the roof carefully searching for loosened or missing nails.

The wind had done a number on the old roof, probably not just from the last storm, but years of storms before it. Liam popped up from the ladder with a hammer of his own and started on the opposite side while I slammed lifted nails back down into the wood.

The sun was beating hard, causing me to work up a sweat quickly. The more I swung my hammer, the harder I tried to forget, but the more I remembered. Fuck, this wasn’t working.

A couple hours slowly inched by, and as I swung my hammer to bury the last nail, Liam was already headed down the ladder.

“I’m ready to catch some damn fish,” he boasted.

“Me too,” I agreed, gathering my supplies, and following him down the ladder.

“Wow, it got warm,” Liam roared.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the edge of my t-shirt, and then shook my long hair to splatter the sweat towards Liam.

“Why don’t you get a fuckin’ haircut?” he teased.

“I like my hair,” I argued.

“Just because you live in the mountains, it doesn’t mean you have to look like you live in the fuckin’ mountains,” he snarled as he wiped my sweat from his arms.

“You’re just jealous because you can’t grow hair,” I laughed.

Liam rubbed his hand over his bald head that was pretty red from the sun.

“I can grow hair. I just choose to shave it,” he hissed.

We continued our razzing as we gathered fishing poles from the shed. We walked towards the creek, picking June bugs, tree worms, and beetles along the way for bait.

Liam sat on the side of the water, working on setting up his hook, but I wasn’t ready to fish, not yet. I stripped off my shirt, and then kicked off my shoes. His eyes lifted to me as I pushed my jeans off and headed towards the water.

“Hey,” he called out a little too late.

I was already in the water, dipping underneath to wash the sweat from my skin and hair. It was cold, really fuckin’ cold, but it felt amazing none the less.

“You’re a crazy fucker, ya know that?” Liam laughed.

I let out a howl like a wolf into the sunlit sky and then shook my head violently to splatter Liam with the cold creek water.

“You’ve scared off all the fish,” he scoffed as I walked from the water.

“Nah, I just brought in the big ones with my large bait,” I teased, swinging my hips so my cock slapped against my thighs.

Liam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, more like made the small ones with your inch worm,” he snorted.

Okay, fair enough, but it was cold. I quickly dressed to warm back up and sat down beside Liam to work on my rig.

“I can see why you love it out here,” he admitted.

It was the first time anyone had given me that credit, acknowledging that I wasn’t completely crazy for loving the seclusion of nature.

“Thanks, brother, that means a lot,” I patted him on the back.

We sat, not talking much, our poles in the water. Liam was right; I’d scared off anything worth eating. He reeled in a few crawdads, and we finally decided to call it quits.

“You really should clear out some trees,” he noted.

“Now you’re putting yourself to work,” I laughed. “You really don’t want to go home, do ya?”

He grumbled something I couldn’t make out as he pushed past the brush to get to the cabin.

“I don’t want to make it easy for anyone to find me,” I pointed out as he grabbed the chainsaw.

“Just a path to the creek, hell, nobody’s coming all the way out here,” he chuckled, pulling the chain and starting up the old tool.

I didn’t argue. He was right. It would be nice to have a better path to the creek. My back and arms were scratched all to hell from the thin branches that clung to me as we pushed through.

I grabbed an old pair of clippers from the shed and followed him back towards the path. He didn’t waste much time before going crazy on a couple trees, ones that must’ve got him on the way to the fishing hole. I stayed behind, clipping small branches and clearing a nice path for our next trip. It was nice thinking about him staying a while. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t looking forward to being alone again.

“Damn, I need to jump in that creek again,” I gasped, falling onto the small hill near the rippling water.

Liam sat down beside me, taking a break from all our hard work. “So, do you plan on staying out here forever?” he asked.

I stared up at the clouds through the trees. They were turning dark again.

“I think we’re gonna get another storm,” I noted, ignoring his question.

“Seriously, is this your life plan?” he pushed.

I shrugged.

“How long you staying out here?” I turned the questioning back to him.

“There’s a part of me that would like to forever. But, ya know, you aren’t that good lookin’, and I’ll eventually get lonely,” he teased.

I slapped him on the shoulder as I got up, extending my hand to his to help him to his feet.

“You aren’t no Georgia peach yourself,” I laughed.

“So I’ll go home when I get lonely. What do you plan on doing when you get tired of being alone and want female companionship?” he teased.

“I guess wait for another one to fall on my path,” I joked.

“Oh, so you gonna set out some traps?” Liam roared.

“Maybe,” I smirked and headed towards the cabin.

Liam peeled potatoes, chopped them into small pieces, and diced up an onion while I took a quick shower. When I got back into the kitchen, he’d already put the food in an iron skillet, and the aroma was causing my stomach to growl with hunger.

“When did you learn to cook?” I asked.

“It was part of my therapy,” he admitted freely and without any signs of embarrassment.

I found it odd that he was so open about his therapy. It wasn’t something we’d ever talked about, and it wasn’t something I thought I’d want to share if I were him.

“Cooking?” I scoffed.

“Sure. It helps soothe my nerves, and it gives me purpose. I actually spend more time at night thinking about recipes, than I do the past,” he stated.

“I’ve been thinking about Bailey to help me sleep,” I confessed.

“Oh yeah, how so?” he asked, a genuine interest showing in his expression.

He stirred the potatoes as I worked on seasoning the steaks he’d brought. I told him about the nightmare, how I was lost at sea. It was the first time I’d had a nightmare that didn’t relate to actual incidents. He was interested in everything I said, listening intensely as I described the beach, the moonlight, and that feeling of safety.

“That’s great,” he encouraged, patting me hard on the back.

It actually felt good to open up to him.

“She may very well be your life preserver. You’d be stupid to push her away in this wild storm you’re drowning in,” he winked.

Maybe.

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