Contract with a SEAL (Special Ops: Homefront Book 3) (15 page)

No, that didn’t sound the least bit
appealing. Yet still her phone beckoned her from her dresser. She had promised
herself not to contact him. Wasn’t it she who had said she didn’t want things
to get clingy or pathetic?

Sighing, she reached for the phone and
plopped on the bed.

Gazing at his number in the contacts
list, her finger hovered, wanting to press the button that might lead to her
hearing the voice that always seemed to soothe her and excite her at the same
time. Compromising, she wrote a text message instead:

“Is it clingy or pathetic for me to wish
you a merry Christmas?”

She hit send before she could talk
herself out of it, and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she got
back to the phone, she had a text waiting.

“I hope not,” he had written. “Because
I’ve been wanting to call you all day. How was your holiday?”

She smiled as she typed. “Fantastic. Jack
is coming home.”

He responded immediately. “I know. I
couldn’t tell you, though.”

She stretched out on the bed. “Figures.
How was your holiday? Did you build the snow golem yet?”

“Yes. It’s 7 feet tall and my sister is
mortified. People honk their horns as they pass on the street. He loves it.”

“Still coming up New Year’s Eve?” she
wrote.

“Got a hotel room overlooking Spa Creek
so we can watch the fireworks from the balcony. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect.” She paused, summoning courage
and letting it flow to her pointer finger as she typed.
“
I miss you.”

“Miss you, too. Did you like the gift?”

Her brow furrowed. “What gift?”

“It was delivered yesterday, according
the UPS website. Have you checked for any packages at the front door?”

She had been using the garage door since
it started snowing yesterday. Had something been left at the front door?

She raced downstairs and unlocked the
door. A freezing wind pelted her as she stooped over to a package set to the
side of the door, covered in three inches of snow.

He got me a gift.

Locking the door again, her fingers
shivered from the cold, or maybe it was from the excitement of the unexpected
present. She shouldn’t feel this way, she reminded herself as her heart warmed
like the steamy, mulled wine Maeve had served on Christmas Eve.

It was probably something like lingerie. That’s
what it was, she mentally prepared herself. Wasn’t that kind of an appropriate
gift for this extended-release fling? More for him, then, than for her. But, oh
well. At least he thought of her in some capacity this Christmas.

She used a kitchen knife to slice open the
shipping tape, and was met with an explosion of packing peanuts.
Packing
peanuts to ship lingerie?

Reaching in, she felt something smooth
like glass and lifting it, a lump formed in her throat.

It was a snow globe of Colonial
Williamsburg. Frozen in time, a tiny horse and carriage was clip-clopping in
front of the Governor’s Palace, and people in Colonial costumes were strolling
along the cobblestone path. Flipping it over, she watched the snow sweep along
the walkway, swirling around the Governor’s Palace like a perfect holiday
snowfall. Seeing the key on the bottom, she wound it up, and the kitchen filled
with the melody of Greensleeves.

She bit her lip. Never had a man gotten
her something so meaningful.

Spotting a red envelope peeking out from
the packing peanuts, she set down the snow globe oh-so-carefully and ripped
open the card.

“Another memory to add to your
collection,” he wrote, signing his name simply, “Joe.”

Heat rushed to her face, and she fanned
herself with the card, feeling almost dizzy with emotion. She pressed her hand
to her chest.

Oh.

Oh. My. God.

She loved him.

She actually loved this man. How the hell
had she let that happen? She picked up the snow globe again and gazed at it,
almost trying to transport herself back to that moment when they had walked
together down that same street in front of the Governor’s Palace. That was the
day, she realized, when she should have known she’d be lost to this man, a
hardened warrior who was so sensitive inside that he’d seen how much she had wanted
to go to Williamsburg when she was younger.

Lacey popped around the corner. “Hey. Did
I hear a music box?”

With her back to her sister, Vi’s eyes didn’t
move from the snow globe she held fast in her hands.

“Are you okay?” Lacey came to her side,
and seeing the empty cardboard box on the counter, her eyes drifted to the gift
that Vi held. “What’s that?”

“A snow globe. Joe sent me a snow globe,”
she said, cursing the absurd, senseless tears that were welling up in her eyes.

“Aww, that’s sweet. Remember when you
wanted to start a collection back when you were a kid?”

Vi just stood there, still dumbfounded by
the realization that she had fallen in love.

“Vi, are you crying?”

Biting her lip, Vi set down the globe to
wipe her eyes on her sleeve. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It
just—I don’t know. It’s the holiday. Turning me into some kind of sap.”

Lacey stepped back, her arms dropping to
her sides. “Oh my God. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“No!” she quickly denied, trying more to
convince herself than Lacey. “People don’t fall in love after a fling. We
barely even know each other. It’s just really great sex. Period.”

Lacey cocked her head. “Yeah, you keep
telling yourself that, Vi. After a while, you might start to believe it.
Might
.”
Lacey put plenty of stress on the final word, narrowing her eyes as she did.

“I have to call him,” Vi said quietly,
walking—no—floating down the hall to the stairs.

No, no, she thought trying to hammer down
the rosy feeling that was seeping upward from her heart into her usually sensible
mind.

This could only end badly for her. He was
leaving so soon, and had no interest transforming their fling into a
relationship. She remembered what he had said. He wasn’t in the type of job
where he could stay in touch. It was demanding, took up 110% of his time.

In her room, she picked up her phone,
taking a deep, therapeutic breath as it rang on the other end.

“Merry Christmas,” his voice greeted her.

And there it was—that feeling
again, like she could fly to the moon. “That was the best gift you could have
possibly given me, Joe. So thoughtful.”

“I’m glad you like it. Just promise me
you’ll add more to your collection this time.”

“I will.” She paused, struggling for the
words. “I stink,” she finally said. Okay, so not very eloquent, but effective. “I
didn’t get you anything. I just didn’t think we were exchanging gifts.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything. It’s
actually better this way.”

“How is that?” she asked.

“Well, now you’re thinking you owe me,
and conveniently, I’m coming there in just a matter of days to collect on that
debt.”

“Oh really?” she practically purred. “And
what exactly did you have in mind?”

“Some things are better demonstrated
rather than spoken.”

“I can’t wait.” And she couldn’t, she
realized, calculating how many hours till she would be able to see him again. These
disappearing opportunities were becoming more precious with each day that
passed. “In the meantime, maybe there’s a way I can whittle down that debt.”

“How’s that?”

Lowering her voice, she tried her best to
sound sultry. “What are you wearing, Sailor?”

He laughed, and over the phone, she heard
a door shut. His bedroom door perhaps?

“PT gear. What are you wearing?”

She smiled. “Nothing. Nothing at all…”

Vi rested her head on Joe’s chest, lulled
to near sleep by the thumping of his heart. She was tempted to let herself
drift into a dream, but knew that nothing her unconscious mind could conjure
would possibly compare to what she had just experienced with him.

Already feeling frisky again, she let her
hand trace down his abs to touch him.

Smiling, he drew in a breath. “Give me five
minutes to recover. I’m not in my twenties anymore.”

“Could have fooled me,” she murmured as
she slid herself on top of him, straddling him. She kissed him, sucking in his
lower lip teasingly, and beneath her, she could feel him already responding.

“Okay, two minutes then.” Lacing his
fingers into her hair, he trapped her face against his.

Mouths melded, she took in his tongue, feeling
it trace against her teeth in one glorious slide. He tasted sinful and heavenly
at the same time; an addiction that she would have to break. But not tonight. Tonight
she would laze her body over him, feeling his skin against hers. Like her, he
was still hot and slick from their last bout in bed. Vi skimmed her hands over
him, her touch a sweet caress, till she moved lower, and she gripped him.

He was already hard for her. How was that
even possible? Yet she savored the feeling of control she had over his body,
pushing him to his limits.

Grabbing her forearms, he flipped her
onto her back before she even knew what had happened. Oh, of all the positions
he had maneuvered her body into, he seemed to like this one best. All power. All
dominance.

Trapping her, he lowered his face to
hers, coaxing her lips open with his own. “God, the effect you have on me is
merciless.”

“I’m hoping I can get one more salute out
of you before room service gets here.”

Moving his mouth down her neck, his
kisses were feral, fiery, and reaching a breast, he took her nipple in his
mouth and toyed with it with his tongue till she purred. She could feel the
heat inside her building again. Slick with her own moisture after he dipped in
for a sample, his fingers gently caressed the small nub of nerve endings that
ached for him. Still hyper-sensitive from their last session of lovemaking, she
felt tiny spasms swell inside of her already, as though they were aftershocks
from the last time she had come undone beneath him, barely five minutes ago.

“Hurry, Joe. Room service is coming,” she
demanded. “And so am I.”

Laughing, he reached over to the
nightstand, sheathed himself with a condom, and slid inside her so swiftly her
breath caught. Her reaction to the pressure inside her was almost immediate. Not
the shattering orgasm she had experienced earlier this night, but slow and deliberate,
like shimmering, low waves over the Chesapeake on a calm day.

They moved together in a gentle rhythm
for a while, steady and familiar to her now, while her body recovered. Still
inside her, he somehow moved her pliant body onto her side, with him thrusting behind
her, while his hands ventured to her breasts, her belly, and down to that point
where she ached for pressure.

Cocooning her with his body, she tried to
etch the feeling of him into her mind—the heat, the pressure, and this sensation
of being joined with a man who completely consumed her soul. His hands were
gentle on her now, not harsh and demanding, and for the life of her, she wasn’t
sure which way she liked it more.

One more time. Maybe two or three if they
stayed up all night. She wouldn’t have much more of this before she’d have to
say good-bye. So she locked the memory away for safe keeping, the warmth of his
skin against her, the firmness of him inside of her, the curves of his muscles
as they enveloped her. And, as he slowly manipulated her beneath him again, the
way his eyes watched her, seeming to peer into the deepest hidden corners of
her mind.

Faster now, he drove inside of her,
climbing up on his own wave, and she climbed right along with him, till they
finally came together, shattering, shuddering, and falling into the warm
sheets, exhausted.

“What you do to me, Violet.”

“Right back atcha, Captain.”

They laid there a few minutes in silence,
till Vi’s stomach growled instinctively when she heard a knock at the door.

“Room service,” a voice called.

With a moan, Joe grabbed one of the hotel
robes from the closet. “Better be really good food to pull me away from you,”
he said quietly before opening the door a crack. “I’ll just take it in myself,”
he said to the man outside the door, signing a slip and then wheeling a cart in
to Vi after the man had left.

“Mmm. Smells so good,” Vi murmured as she
grabbed the other robe.

They ate in bed, feeding each other shrimp
and crab cakes, waiting for Annapolis’s second round of New Year’s Eve fireworks.
The first round, only moments after sunset, were for families. Watching from
their room’s balcony, Vi could hear them all cheer at the end of the show. Swarms
of people had crowded the bridge extending over Spa Creek to see the show, and
a few floors beneath their room, the water view restaurant had been packed to
the brim.

Vi glanced at the clock on the
nightstand. Only minutes till midnight, and Vi pictured the masses of people
outside, shivering in the cold waiting for the show, while she got to wait in a
warm bed with Joe.
This is the way to do New Year’s.

Reaching over, Vi fed Joe a coconut
shrimp. “Any New Year’s resolutions?”

Joe answered without delay. “Get through
another year—” and he stopped abruptly, reaching for his drink. “Just get
through another year.”

Alive
. She finished his sentence in her head.
He was going to
say, just get through another year alive.

Suddenly, she burned with resentment. At
the Navy, at the SEALs, at politicians who were sitting in their comfortable
offices making the decisions that put real people, men like Joe, in danger.

“Why do you do it?” The question slipped
passed her lips before she could stop it.

Joe leaned against the headboard, his
eyes not leaving hers.

Would he even know what she was really
asking? Would he know what she was thinking?

His eyes were still locked on hers. “Because
someone has to.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best
you can come up with? I mean, with your credentials and your clearance you could
be working anywhere, probably for a lot more money than you make now, and no
one would be shooting at you or trying to blow you up.”

“If our best people left when things got
tough, then who would we be left with? How strong would America and our allied
forces be if the only people protecting our world were people who couldn’t land
a better job elsewhere?”

Vi scooted toward him. “Okay. Well, what
about after?”

“After?”

“You can’t stay in the Navy forever. What
about after?”

“After.” He pulled her close, sliding her
body against his chest. “Well, you’ll probably laugh.”

A smile touched her lips. “I won’t. Cross
my heart.”

“I want to buy a vineyard.”

Vi’s eyebrows rose. “A vineyard?”

“Surprised?”

“Yeah. Completely. When did you get this
idea?”

“A few years back. Leadership pretty much
forced me to take a vacation after one too many missions. And I read about this
school in Northern California not far from where my parents live where you can
learn all about running a vineyard. It was easily the dumbest idea I ever had
for a vacation. But it totally stuck. I’ve been there twice now.”

“I’m stunned. Especially since I don’t
think I’ve ever seen you drink anything but beer.” She glanced at the champagne
they had on the nightstand. “Or champagne, I guess. But you just strike me as a
beer-drinking kind of guy.”

“I have to be. I’m a SEAL CO. I need to
be something my men can relate to. If they had any idea I’m a closet wine
connoisseur, I’d never hear the end of it.” He raised a finger. “So no telling
your sister. She’d tell Mick and before you knew it…”

“I won’t tell. At least not till you
retire.” Glancing again at the clock, she got up from the bed to get dressed. Fireworks
would be starting and it was too cold to go out on that balcony in just a robe.
“Where would you do it? Northern California?”

“No. Virginia or Maryland. Someplace
close to the DC area. I’ll need to get a TS-clearance contractor position to
support my vineyard experiment, because I have no doubt I’ll fail miserably at
it.”

Popping her head out through the neck of
her shirt, she shook her head. “You won’t. You don’t strike me as the kind of
man who ever fails.”

“Vi, I can’t even keep a houseplant alive
more than a month. But even the idea of failing at it is somehow intriguing to
me. In my job now, if I fail, men die. If I fail at the vineyard business, what
happens? A few grapes shrivel up. So what?”

She slipped on her yoga pants. “And then
you’ll have a raisin farm.”

“Absolutely right. See? I’d still come
out ahead.” Reaching for a shirt, he moved from the bed. “And I like the idea
of all that land surrounding me, the peace of it. The smell of the grapes on
the vines, stretching out for acres. After being in so many commands, my life
has been so full of people. Interruptions. Cell phones, emails, texts, people
banging on my door. And then in the field? Well, hell, you’ve never heard or
seen chaos like it.”

“I can imagine.”

“I want to know what it’s like to wake up
in the morning to complete silence. I’ll probably only last a week at that kind
of lifestyle, but by God, I want to try it.”

Vi cuddled into his arms. She liked the
idea of Joe on that vineyard. She’d picture him there, years from now, when
this little affair of theirs had become a distant memory, and find comfort of
thinking of him someplace safe.

“So what about you, Vi?”

Her eyes widened. “You mean, my New
Year’s resolution? Easy. Be a better sister than I have been the past fourteen years
of my life.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Actually
I was more interested in what you want to be when you grow up.” There was a
twinkle in his eye.

 “I really don’t know. Certainly not
what I am now.”

“Sick of finance?”

“No, not at all. I love it. But if you’ve
noticed, my job barely even touches on finance since I moved to Atlanta. And
here in DC it’s even worse—all politics and budget talks. I don’t think
I’ve actually felt like I worked in finance since I left New York.” Bending
over, she reached for her shoes. “And I hate wearing so much makeup. And the
heels? Every day, I feel like they’re trying to turn me into a pageant queen.
This time off has made me really dread going back to work in two days.”

“So, quit.”

Jarred from the directness—and the
sheer absurdity of the idea—she stared at him as if he had just told her
to have a sex change operation. The change seemed that drastic to her.

Cradling her in his arms, he brushed a
kiss lightly to her neck. “Seriously. You’re at the top of your game now. You
have a name for yourself. You can’t tell me that you couldn’t land a job in
anything you wanted right now.”

A face popped into her mind—of her
roommate from Columbia University who now owned an investment firm. What would
it be like to break free from the steady paycheck and network demands, and
actually manage people’s money? Help them work toward their dreams?

To help people like Joe find themselves
on their vineyards one day, free of financial worries.

It was damn intriguing, and if the first
fireworks hadn’t summoned them out onto the balcony as midnight arrived, she
might just have let the idea sink in long enough to take hold.

But right now, she’d settle for just
wrapping Joe’s arms around her as they settled onto the cold balcony, watching
the fireworks explode over Spa Creek.