The car ride over to Greg’s waterfront townhouse literally took half a minute. The Admiral pulled her Toyota into the driveway. Greg must have been waiting for them because the garage door opened and the Admiral pulled in and parked next to an Audi and a motorcycle. Mattie plucked her laptop from the back seat and the Admiral pulled her bag from the trunk. She hated this. It felt like she was hiding or worse, couldn’t take care of herself.
Greg opened the door leading into the house from the garage, his expression wrinkled with concern.
“I’m alive,” she said dejectedly. The Admiral slipped into the house, but Greg stopped her entry. “What? Do I sleep in the garage or something?” She bit her lower lip for being snarky.
He didn’t say a thing. Instead, he took the two steps to the cement floor and pulled her into his arms. She pressed her face against his strong chest. His hugs were the kind you never wanted to leave. The type that embraced not only the body, but the soul.
“Come inside,” he murmured into her hair.
They rallied in the kitchen while the Admiral explained what happened during her date. He then excused himself and disappeared upstairs.
Not four hours later, and here she was, back on the same couch in Greg’s home.
He remained in the kitchen as she lay down, caving to the call of the couch. As soon as her head hit the corduroy pillow, exhaustion pulled her toward sleep. She heard the rustle of his jeans and smelled his aftershave as he hunched down beside her.
“I have an extra bedroom upstairs.”
“I’m fine here,” she said. “Just need to close my eyes for a couple minutes.”
“You need more than that,” he said in his deep timbre.
A soft blanket draped over her, and his fingers pulled the band from her hair. He swept a soothing hand beneath her strands and massaged the base of her neck. “You need someone to look after you.”
She opened her eyes, and he gazed down at her with concern. “Thank you for putting me up for the night. The Admiral insisted. I’ll figure something out tomorrow.”
“Mademoiselle, you’ll stay here so I can watch over you.” He tucked the blanket around her shoulders. “I wish I would have been there tonight, but it was probably better it was Austen. I would have killed Stuart.”
She sat up and gripped his shoulder. “What? No. You can’t kill anyone. You just got out of jail.”
“Wouldn’t have been thinking straight if your life was in danger. I climbed the walls waiting. Austen wasn’t being very communicative.” Greg’s hand slid over hers. “I was worried.”
“Thanks, but you need to step away from all this, not get more deeply involved.”
Instead of falling into the depth of his eyes, her attention swung to the picture on the mantel.
He followed her gaze. “I tease Kayla something awful and bug the shit out of Austen, but the truth is I’m happy she loves him. Happy for both of them.”
Mattie wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders and perched herself against the pillow.
He licked his lips and let out a breath. “You asked me about my brother and Kayla.”
“I don’t need to know. It’s not my business.”
“I think you do. The night my brother Daniel was arrested in San Diego, I had a choice. At least, I’d like to think I did. Kayla was happy in the States, but she would have come with me if I’d asked her. I didn’t, because I knew we needed to move on with our lives. After twenty years of hell and happiness, remaining together would have reminded us of the past every single day. And the past was painful for both of us. I know Austen assumes that if he were to die, I’d sweep in and try to convince Kayla to be mine. But the truth is, I’ve moved on too. I would be there for her, but like a brother. Not her lover. She knows the truth and so do I. As for Austen,”—he shrugged—“I don’t mind keeping him uncomfortable.”
She liked seeing this side of Greg. “That’s evil.”
“He deserves it. He’s a cocky son-of-a-bitch. He’s head strong and so in love with her that he would have died saving her life. At one time I would have too, but there’s more to life than hanging on to the past, trapping yourself in regret.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you look at her picture and you think I still desire her.”
She nibbled on her upper lip. Busted! Three ways to Sunday. As much as she wanted Greg to see her as a professional, she knew her infatuation was obvious. To her, his strength and confidence was like brushing against the aura of an iconic untouchable man. For some reason, she was in awe of him and his career. Her heart raced with excitement when she thought of him on a mission and the dangers he’d faced.
When she had nothing more to add, he said, “Just wanted you to know that she’ll always be special to me, but I’ve moved on.” He looked down at the carpet for a second, then back at her. “I’ll get your bag and show you to the bedroom.”
She’d run out of words and simply followed, her entire body exhausted and her mind paralyzed by rambling thoughts of serial killers, mysteries and her lousy love life.
Once they were upstairs, Greg opened the first door on the left, and she walked into a comfortable spare bedroom painted in comfortable dark beige tones.
“There’s a small bathroom through there.” He pointed toward the back wall. “I’m next door if you need anything.”
She nodded and flopped down on the bed, only to feel her strappy high heels being pulled from her feet. She sighed with relief when his warm hands massaged her arches then moved on to her toes. She lay limp as a noodle when his arms scooped beneath her and straightened her on the bed, then pulled the covers over her.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Greg,” she said, barely able to keep her eyes open. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do any of this.”
He leaned over, and her heart pattered like rain on thin metal. “You helped me too.”
“You’re an innocent man.”
“I’m far from innocent, but I’m not talking about the murders.”
They were almost nose to nose when her breathing stopped.
“Good night.”
Her heart skipped several beats when he brushed her cheek gently with his own, and then left her, switching the light off and closing the door.
* * * *
Greg headed downstairs. Moving a few papers aside in the top drawer of the end table, he found what he was looking for and replaced the picture with the one from the mantle.
“You’re one lucky son-of-a-bitch, Ghost,” he said to the picture of Austen cradling his son Adam in one arm and his other holding Kayla with Sloane in her arms.
“I know that.”
Greg jerked around to see Austen leaning against the wall at the entrance to the kitchen. “They call you Ghost for a good reason.”
Austen’s shoulders jerked with a laugh. “Why you doing that?” he asked, taking the few steps to join him at the fireplace.
“Because Kayla is your family now. Not mine.” He tucked the other picture back in the drawer and closed it. “Diana left me because I couldn’t completely give her what she needed.” He bowed his head. “Maybe if I had, she’d still be alive.”
Austen plucked the picture from the mantel and stared down at it, a faraway look in his eyes. “Who knows?” He turned his gaze on him. “Until the right woman crosses your path, they’ll keep coming. Then out of nowhere she’s there and you can’t ignore her. I look back at my life as Bravo Kilo and Alpha Kilo.”
Greg couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fuck, man. That is so cheesy. Let me guess. Before Kayla and after Kayla.”
Austen grinned and nodded. “She really did change everything I am. I respect her. That was one of the biggest realizations, along with many others. I didn’t,” he paused, his lips rubbing together, “I didn’t respect women. Least, not the way I should have, but Kayla’s strength blew me away. What she had gone through. How she survived. I know you were responsible for keeping her afloat for many of those years.”
Greg watched him, not wanting to interrupt. Maybe he needed to hear this as much as he needed to understand that second chances were real.
Austen stepped around the large walnut coffee table. “I heard you talking to Mattie. Didn’t mean to listen, but I’m glad I did. You know my best friend, Patrick Cobbs, and I went through something similar.”
Greg slowly sat down and Austen sat on the couch opposite him. “When?”
“When we first met Marg. I met her first, and we, ah—well, ya know. We were young. Few nights later, she met Cobbs and the look in their eyes told me they’d be together forever.” Austen blinked away a sheen of tears. “Forever was only twenty-two years, but they had it all.”
Greg didn’t interrupt. If Austen was going to finally talk about his best friend, he would gladly listen.
Austen leaned forward and stared at nothing in particular but his inner memories. “It took a long while before Cobbs forgave me, even though Marg and my night of rolling around in the bedsheets happened before they met. I think he only truly relaxed when Kayla came into my life. In fact, I know it was. All those years, he held a small nugget of fear that Marg may have wanted me instead of him, but I wasn’t in a place to settle down at twenty-one-years-old.” Austen exhaled a pent up breath and said, “Don’t you ever tell Kayla this, but I did love Marg. I loved her at first sight but I was too stupid to realize that back then. I also know now Marg was the best damn thing that Cobbs ever had. He never would have lived as long as he did if it hadn’t been for her. I stepped away because I knew he was the better man for her.”
Greg knew he was the last person to give advice on the subject of love, but he said, “I imagine Cobbs was wrong and Marg chose him because she loved him, and it was his best friend and swim buddy that kept him alive.”
Austen’s head tilted and his brow flexed together to fight off the grief he must still feel. “She did. But what I’m trying to say is that I’ll always have that same small nugget of fear when it comes to you. I heard you say if I were gone you’d only be there as a brother and I believe you.”
“It’s the truth.” Greg stood up and went to the fridge. He grabbed two beers, tossing one to Austen when he returned to the living room. “I made a mistake when Daniel, Kayla and I were young, too. I should have stepped in. Daniel wooed her. I knew he had a dark side and a temper. He didn’t escape our abusive youth unscathed.”
“But you did.”
“I controlled my rage. Turned it into energy and gave it all to the Navy and JTF. That night—” He shook his head, the pain in his chest squeezing the shit out of him as hard today as it did then. “That Christmas Eve night when I walked in and saw the tree knocked over, the balls crushed on the carpet, and my brother curled up, rocking himself in a corner, the guilt consumed me. But it wasn’t till I saw Kayla on the floor, her face battered, her neck turning black with bruises, lying in a pool of blood and her eyes closed, that I knew I’d made the worst choice of my life when I didn’t do something when I had the chance.
I called the paramedics and knelt down beside her. She didn’t move. I was too afraid to touch her and not find a heartbeat. But then she came to, and she begged me to let her go. To let her die.” Greg took a big gasping breath and the tears ran freely. He couldn’t stop them. Unashamed, he let them flow. “I should have taken her away from Daniel long before that night. I knew he was hurting her, but she’d push me away and told me it would be all right, that he was getting better. He wasn’t. He was getting worse. I could have stopped it, but I didn’t.” He brushed his cheeks roughly. “That night at the cabin, when we brought the Men in Arms, and I took Daniel home because he’d broken his probation, I knew it was my last chance to make it right.” He sniffed and shook his head. “I let her suffer for ten years. Allowed my brother, my own flesh and blood to abuse her. Why did I do that? I loved her. Why did I do that to her?”
Austen glared at the ceiling, his head leaning way back. When he lowered his chin, his eyes were filled with anger and tears and he shook his head. “There’s no right answer and there’s no one pointing a finger at you saying you’re guilty. I’m not going to do that. It wasn’t you who hurt her. It wasn’t us that accepted being abused, it was her. We’ve all lived too much life for the time we’ve spent on the planet, but we have a lot more yet to go. That includes you.” He slugged back a healthy gulp of beer. “Let’s store the past where it belongs. In the past.” He leaned forward. “I haven’t missed the way you’ve been watching Mattie, and I’m only going to share this once. My theory is way out there, but I’m going to say it anyway so you hear it loud and clear. You’re attracted to her and that does not mean you are unfaithful to Kayla. It does not mean that in any way you’re abandoning her. Kayla is safe now. She’s safe with me.”
The words hit him like a bomb of truth detonated inside him. Austen had done what he usually does—made a direct hit. Greg could never get close to a woman because every time it felt like he was abandoning Kayla. She had been his responsibility to protect. He’d failed the first ten years, but once Daniel was in prison, he watched over her and loved her until she left for San Diego.
He scrubbed his face and let out a deep breath. “It’s not way out there. It’s the truth.”
“You’re wrong about one thing,” Austen added.
“And that is?”
“Kayla may be part of my family now, but so are you.”
“Merci,” he choked out and bowed his head.
“We didn’t have time to ask you, but Kayla and I both want you to be Sloane’s Godfather and guardian. I know if something happens to us, she would be in the safest hands for the rest of her life.”
“Seriously? I would be honored.”
Close to midnight, Austen’s cell rang. He looked down and grinned. “She doesn’t trust me.”
Greg broke into a chuckle. “Get used to it.”
“Hey, Kayla,” Austen said, answering the call. He nodded. “He’s sitting across from me. Yes, he’s okay. Just finished telling him he’s Sloane’s Godfather.” He nodded again. “Yes, he’s happy. How come you worry so much about him and his feelings and don’t care about mine, eh?” He winked, then broke into a laugh at her response. “Sweetheart, what would you think if he was attracted to somebody? I mean someone special.” Austen bit his top lip. “Yup, it’s Mattie. How did you know?” Listening, his head bobbed with humor. “Would you calm down?” Austen covered the phone. “She hates her. Which to me, means she’s perfect.” Austen gave him the thumbs up, then choked out a laugh. “No, you can’t talk to him. You’re talking to your third husband right now.”
Austen yanked the phone from his ear and placed it on the couch. “She’ll stop yelling in a second.” Ignoring the phone, he said to Greg, “Once we get over the hump here, think you need to take the lovely woman upstairs for a holiday. She looks like she could use a break.” He picked up the phone. “Course, I was listening, sweetheart. Okay, sure. We’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.” He tucked the cell back in his pocket. “I can tell you, my life was a lot simpler being shot at by Taliban then it’s ever been with a wife and two kids.”
Greg grinned. “Sure, but you wouldn’t change a thing.”
Austen rose and offered him a lazy one-finger salute. “Not one fuckin’ minute.”
Before Austen disappeared for the night, Greg asked, “Did you tell Mattie the truth? You really couldn’t make out what was in Stuart’s hand in the parking lot?” He turned a look over his shoulder to see Austen’s jaw go taut.
“Maybe not.”
Greg nodded. “Was it a knife?” He turned in his seat when Austen didn’t respond.
“Looked like a blade to me, but I was twenty feet away.”
“Thanks for being there.”
“See you at eight bells,” Austen said.
“Roger that, SEAL.”
Greg turned off the side lamp and finished his beer in the dark. Even sitting in a jumpsuit with handcuffs and being held for murder, his world had stopped spinning when Mattie Bidault stepped up to the table in the corrections center. His pulse had already gone for a fast run around a track when he’d seen her walk into the Irish Times pub.
He’d shared his bed with too many women. For a time, he and Kayla had been intimate, but she always insisted he move on. He’d tried. Diana had been patient with him, but she wanted a family and marriage. He couldn’t take that step. Couldn’t give her all of his heart. She knew it and when the doctor started showing interest, Diana chose the right path.
Mattie’s soft features and amazing eyes sent his desire into seek and possess mode, but two other temptations had ramped up his heart rate. Her take no prisoners approach to her profession. He liked her drive. She hardly knew him when she’d decided she believed him. Going on gut instinct and a few facts, she stood behind her beliefs. The second thing was her body. Fuck, her body was something a man could desire for hours. Tall, with long legs and definitive curves that his eyes cruised along like an afternoon ride on his bike.
Exhilarating.
To see that woman naked on her knees would drive him senseless. With an arched back and her beautiful rounded hips in his hands, he could lose himself in her beauty for hours. What was seriously appealing is that she didn’t see herself as a sexual creature. Not one ounce of her believed she had what it takes to make a guy rock hard and glad to be born a man. It was time for him to do more than listen to his instincts. He had to believe in them.
An inner voice told him there’s someone special standing in front of him, and he should pay attention to Mattie Bidault and her zeal for adventure and truth.