SEAL Forever (7 page)

Maura's eyes turned to him. Her eyebrows went up.

“Let me just get my salad. No sense wasting my marvelous meal.” Olivia disappeared for a minute, only to return with a giant bowl and the largest martini he'd ever seen—and that was saying a lot, because he'd been to a lot of bars around the globe.

She sat down next to Declan, scooting very close to him and planting a red-lipped kiss on his cheek. He knew there would be a mark. There always was with Olivia—tacky or not.

Olivia waved at Maura. “Hi, I'm Olivia. Declan's girl.”

Declan frowned. “No, you're not.”

Olivia threw up her hands. “Okay, fine. I'm your former girl.”

“We didn't date.” Declan physically pushed back from her, invading Maura's space. “This is Maura, my girlfriend, and we'd appreciate it if you left us to our dinner.”

Olivia nibbled thoughtfully on her spinach salad. “Interesting… I guess I'm stuffed.” The bowl was three-quarters full, and half the ingredients were pushed to the side. “I know when two is company.” She stood and walked over to the other side of the table. “Honey, can you give us a minute?”

Maura looked at her as if the woman were a door-to-door snake oil salesperson. “No.”

He couldn't have been prouder, watching Maura stand her ground. Olivia was not the type to back down, but here she was…actually backing away from Maura's death stare.

Olivia fished into her purse and pulled out a picture. It was of her naked. She placed it in front of Declan. “In case you need a reminder of what you have. This is a choice between her—a woman wearing off-the-rack clothes—and me. You know how lovely my skin is, encased in silk. I only wear natural fibers. They show off my naturally gorgeous form.”

“Natural, my ass! Only Barbie has boobs that high. Do you keep upping the amount of silicone, hoping no one will notice the mileage? Now,” said Maura, picking up her fork and going back to her meal, “take a hint, and get lost.”

“Well! I never!” exclaimed Olivia, outraged.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” remarked Maura. “I'm sure you've ‘nevered' many times.”

“Oh!” screeched Olivia as she grabbed her bowl of salad and tossed the contents at Maura and Declan before stomping out the door.

They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“That was a rather comical scene,” said Maura, picking spinach and bacon off Declan.

“You seriously held your own. Good job!” In turn, he was pulling clumps of mushroom and onion out of her hair. “I'm sorry about that. Olivia was probably the least stable woman I ever hooked up with. I should have never let her into my world. I make mistakes occasionally.”

“I see. Well, um, I think we should go,” said Maura, the humor melting from her lips.

“Why? You've barely eaten. I've eaten a half a rack of lamb, a salad, a baked potato, and I still have room for more.” Declan couldn't believe the woman would eat four bites of food and consider dinner done. When he ate, his body craved the sustenance like a starving man. He'd already had to slow down his intake several times to speak. “Let's order Black Forest cake. What do you say?”

Maura shrugged, wincing.

“Your shoulder is bothering you again?”

“Yeah. Do you mind if we go?” She seemed so earnest, how could he deny her?

“Sure.”

He got the check and paid. His eyes were on her as she moved from the table. Her actions were not stiff or pained. Was there something else going on?

Outside, he directed her toward a bench. “Let's sit down for a moment.”

She nodded her head.

“Tell me the real reason we left. Did you object to me calling you my girlfriend?”

“No, I liked that. I'm honored. Truly, I am, Declan.” She looked at him earnestly, then quickly shifted her gaze away. Her fingers fidgeted with a thread on her skirt hem. “I just…”

“Maura…”

Finally, she exhaled and turned toward him. Her green eyes locked to his. “At first, I thought the situation with Olivia was funny.”

He rushed to speak. “It was.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Hear me out. Then I remembered all of the women going in and out of your apartment. It made me worry that I'm…” She couldn't finish the sentence, and her eyes welled with tears.

“That you would become one of them.”

Maura nodded her head and wiped at her eyes. Her lips shook as if she were going to cry.

“Hey, that's not true. It's different this time. You're special, Maura. Okay?” He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. Burying his nose in her hair, he breathed deeply. He loved the smell of her. Being with her was just different than being with the others. How could he reassure her? “I never dated any of them more than a few times. It's been weeks and I still feel the same excitement with you as I did the first day.”

“So, the others were what? Bed buddies?” Maura squeaked out. “And what happens if you tire of me? If I bore you?”

“You never could, Maura,” he replied, then instantly regretted his quick agreement.

“Never say never, Declan. You're a grown man.” She pulled back from him. “What makes me different? Will you treat me like Olivia when you're done with me? What's to stop you from kicking me to the curb when this is over?”

“This isn't the same situation, and you are definitely
not
Olivia…or more accurately, Olivia is not you, and never could be.” He held her gaze—those beautiful watery sea-green eyes. “Everything is different. I could spend years exploring all the fascinating things about you. I haven't wanted that…ever. Maura, there is something so special about you. I can't put it all into words right now. But I think about you so much during the day, and I wonder how you are and what you're doing, and I can hardly wait to share things with you.” He shook his head. “Man, I'm crap at expressing myself.”

“Don't feed me lines…or excuses.” She pushed on his chest. “This is just another conquest.”

“No,” he said, his voice very serious. “This relationship—you and me—is very important to me.”

“I…I don't know, Declan. I need to think about this. It's a big step for me to get past, well, your history with women. Please…please take me home.” Maura stood and walked to the Harley. She carefully got into the jacket and zipped it up. Putting on her helmet, she waited for him, looking miserable.

There was no doubt in his mind that this was a misunderstanding, and that they'd get through it. She just needed some time to reflect on everything they'd shared and the kind of future they could have together. Regardless, he was going to keep proving himself to her. He wouldn't give up.

He nodded his head and got up from the bench. Slowly, he mounted his Harley and inserted the key. The engine roared to life. He secured his own helmet and pulled into traffic.

This time, Maura didn't reach around him as they rode. She held his hips, clearly regretting that she chose a mode of transportation requiring physical contact.

He sighed. His visions for this night were going down the tubes fast and furiously. This was not what he wanted to happen. Not at all.

* * *

The lights in the apartment next to his were off. Nary a sound issued from its darkness, either.

Standing on the balcony, Declan turned his gaze to stare out at the ocean. Stars filled the sky. The crescent moon hung low, as if it were attempting to hook a fish.

He scrubbed his fingers over his scalp until his brain released its hold on the events of the night. He couldn't let this frustration hold him stagnant. He needed motion; movement was the core of his life and his happiness. He needed motion to relax himself.

He stripped off his clothes, going down to his boxer shorts, and then dropped to the sand. He did a series of exercises, warming up his muscles, feeling his heart rate increase, and his blood… Well, hell, that was already pumping, and in places it didn't need to be right now.

Getting to his feet, he looked up at the night sky full of brightly twinkling stars and said, “I need some help here. A little guidance would be useful.”

Nothing was forthcoming. What did he expect? He shrugged and studied the waves, looking for the sweet spot where the current would draw him into the ocean. It would be easier to do laps and swim hard out there.

Besides, he hadn't really done anything wrong, had he? It wasn't as if he could erase his past. If she were meant to be his, she'd come around to his point of view. And if not…

Man, he didn't like thinking about not seeing her. Not kissing her.

Damn! This was not the mind-set he wanted right now.

His swim buddy was right when he said, “Women are an enigma and very unpredictable.”

Catching sight of the perfect spot to enter the ocean, where the rhythm of waves would pull him straight out, he moved quickly. Digging his toes in, he jogged down the sandbank and dove into the churning waves.

The cold ocean water shocked his system for a second or two, but he ignored it. Feeling his body slice through the buoyant water brought a calm satisfaction and his own version of peacefulness as the current pulled him deeper and deeper into its briny darkness.

“Maura,” Declan said loudly. He knocked on Maura's front door again. A night alone had brought him more than enough clarity, and he hoped the same would be true for her. “C'mon, I have to go. Please open up.”

He'd tried the balcony glass door. Calling her cell phone didn't work either. When was this woman going to cut him a break?

“Maura.” He waited for her to answer, but she didn't come to the door. Damn, he didn't want things left this way. Taking the note from his back pocket, he slid it under the door. Simply enough, it said, “I'm sorry. Will be gone for a few. Be well. Talk when I'm back. Declan.” He couldn't say much more. This was the painful part of a mission situation; one couldn't say jack shit to anyone.

Maura would either be cool with him and his life, or not. He knew he was providing her with the optimal opportunity to drop-kick him into the ocean. He just hoped she'd want to hang on to him.

Shit! This fucking sucked. The timing for this Op could not be worse. The call had come a few hours after he'd gotten in from his swim. His brain had been completely at peace after the salt water soaked away his stressors, but he knew that was a temporary situation, because Maura was under his skin. He'd get laughed off the Teams if he'd ever admitted that about any woman. Teammates knew how to push buttons—at least the good ones did.

Girls like Olivia made him nuts, because they liked to taunt and tease in a negative, manipulative manner. But Maura had an honest passion, and having her wrapped around him was addictive in the best of ways.

He grabbed his pack and headed down the staircase. He didn't want to be thinking about her or that kiss or the way they made love together, laughed, and talked, but it was hard to get her out of his mind. Something about her manner and personality caught his attention. Until he could figure it out, she was like a puzzle to him. Intriguing women always garnered his attention.

The best thing he could do was concentrate on his work and let the female thing work itself out. He believed in the universe's capacity to sort things out and man's ability to screw it all up.

He checked his watch. They'd be cutting it close. His eyes scanned the road, looking for his swim buddy, Leaper Lefton. The plane was taking off in fifteen minutes. There wasn't much time. He'd only had an hour to get organized and grab his gear.

“C'mon, Leaper, where are you?” They'd gone through BUD/S at different times—Leaper had been two classes ahead of him—yet they worked together as if they had known each other all their lives. It was like that with most SEALs. They became your brother, your friend, and your family. Training tended to weed out those who weren't suited to the demands of the job as well as the roll-with-it lifestyle.

A Mustang cornered the street with a screech. It was a twenty-five-mile-per-hour zone, and Leaper was going to get nailed if he wasn't careful. The man had luck, though, because there wasn't a police officer in sight. They'd have to keep hustling if they were going to get to Naval Air Station North Island (NAS) on time.

The car skidded to stop and the door opened. “Hump it.”

Declan put his pack in the back and was barely in the door before the car started moving. He was used to it. Buckling his seat belt, he closed his eyes.
Think about the mission. Run through it in your head.
As he repeated the directive, his brain finally gave way, and he was moving through the drills at top speed, ready, prepared, and primed to go.

* * *

Maura watched the waves rush in, climb up the shore, and then slowly slide back into the ocean. The rhythm was soothing, and she lost herself in the push and pull.

The irrational fears rattling around in the back of her mind had played out in real life when she met Olivia. How horrible it must be to be thrust aside and treated so callously. Of course, Olivia hadn't seemed like a wilting flower, either. The woman had some balls, barging in on her date with Declan. And that was the thing…it was possible that Maura had accused Declan wrongly, that Olivia was one of those nutty, obsessed types and Declan had avoided things going further with her for just that reason.

She hugged her legs to her. She wasn't getting any answers sitting there, so she stood and wiped the sand from her long cotton skirt and cardigan. She needed to talk to him.

The sun was high in the sky. She had been out here since sunrise and the time had flown. She had the evening shift at the gym, so there was no need to rush. But she did want to talk to Declan before the day was through. No sense in stewing over the incident for days. She really liked him.

She knew it was true. The way he spoke to her when she was upset, the cajoling kindness that helped her face tough moments, and his kisses… Secrets were uncovered about a man when he made love. She knew the depth of his passion and tenderness, and she wanted more. Their time together made her want to know everything about him.

She headed back down the beach toward home. “I guess that's my answer,” she murmured.

She was stuck on him. Regardless, today she would give him a chance to explain about Olivia, and she'd apologize for her temper. She knew anger was anxiety and fear amplified. She just didn't want to be one of those souls ruled by emotional outbursts; that wasn't who she was. Rather, she'd prefer to define herself as strong, capable, and independent. She'd proved she was different than Olivia.

* * *

Riding in a C-17 was like willingly sticking your ear next to the loudest air conditioner you've ever heard for hours on end. Declan had flown in the belly of these aircraft for years, and it never got better.

The Team was packed into the belly, along with the support staff, gear, and additional mission specialists. It was a tight squeeze.

Miller was reading off his clipboard. “Packs, check. Money, check. Communications, check. Miller Roth—that's me and I'm pretty sure that I'm here. Harvey Wilson, Hayes Johnson, Declan Swifton—please don't roll your eyes. Leaper Lefton—nice bird! I think that fingernail needs a trim. Tyler Kidding—if the flight crew catches you spitting tobacco chew on the ground, we're scrubbing this place, so quit it. Bunks Fox—you've got some nerve popping pills! Oh, it's Dramamine. And Sobbit Dahl. We're eight for eight, and we're loaded, and everyone that's supposed to be aboard is…so we're good to go.”

Pulling a sound-canceling headset and his iPod from his pack would give Declan the few hours of the peace he craved, not to mention save his battered eardrums. There was only so much shouting he could listen to from his Teammates, especially when they involved Leaper's dirty joke collection. Telling the same jokes every time seemed to be part of his superstition.

Donning the headphones and dialing up a mix of Placebo, Queen, Beck, Bowie, U2, Bush, Foreigner, and Creed, he closed his eyes and zoned out. His mind was immediately transported to a state of complete Zen. His muscles loosened, relaxing, as images danced through his brain: family, friends, and women. When it finally settled on a vision, he smiled knowingly.

Maura Maxwell bit the tip of her perfectly rounded fingernail with that sultry smile. He could hear her voice beckoning him. Watching her disrobe, revealing that silky smooth skin, made him lick his lips. He craved to hold her, touch her, and make love to her.

He walked to her, but she was always half turned away from him. Why wouldn't she face him? “Maura? Why do you keep moving away?”

She laughed, throaty and deep. “I'm not. You're just not fast enough to catch me.”

“Yes, I am.” He heard the dare in her words and liked it.

Then she disappeared, and he was alone.

“That's not fair,” he said, getting frustrated with her.

“I'm here now.” She appeared again, but one hand was behind her back. Something was hiding there. She stared at him with her terminally smoky, sea-green gaze. “You make me yours.”

“How?” He shook his head. He didn't do games. He needed to hear the words from that gorgeous mouth, feel those lips that would be so delectable on his body. “Enough!” he shouted.

He grabbed for her and reached her shoulder.

As she turned toward him, he was surprised to see Maura crying.

“What's wrong? How can I fix it?” he asked.

“Invite me,” Maura said, standing there in some prim, high-necked black dress one second and completely naked in the next as she twirled in circles.

He felt he should turn away, but he couldn't stop staring. His hands caught her and pulled her toward him. She was so very, very real.

She opened her arms and her soft skin rubbed against him. “I'm ready. I'll let you in,” she whispered. “I promise. Just be mine now.”

As their bodies were about to touch, he kissed her, becoming lost in her intoxicating touch. His choice this time, as his lips devoured her sweetness, was to have all of her.

Her murmurs beckoned him to hurry, to make love to her before the chance slipped away.

He reached a hand down to pull off his own clothes, but he was already naked, his clothes disappearing before the thought had even fully formed.

They were flesh on flesh now, hands stroking and caressing, bringing such electric pleasure that it was hard to contain himself…to wait for her to be ready…to…to…

Declan jolted awake. He pulled off his headset and looked at the man next to him. “What the hell!”

Leaper was shoving his shoulder. “Dude, we're here. Time to hop.”

Turning off the iPod and stowing it with his headset, Declan rubbed his eyes and gave his mind a few seconds to clear. His body was set to another function and he had to dial back his, ahem, need and get into warrior mode. His conflicted libido was going to have to duke it out some other time.

Miller was shouting again. Most likely, he was saying something along the lines of…
Move those asses
. Declan was guessing at that as he followed his Teammates, lifting his pack and grabbing the rest of his gear. They were getting off the C-17, and the blast furnace of midday heat bathed him in an instant sweat.

Images were still dancing at the edges of his thoughts, of a woman that intrigued him and made him want to hold her again, to definitely know more.

* * *

Maura read the note for the tenth time. She sighed and put it on the coffee table. Placing a heart-shaped glass weight on top of it so the wind from the balcony door didn't accidently blow it away, she stared at the piece of paper.

She threw her hands up.
Why did I bother going for a walk? I should have gone over to his house first. Now, who knows if I'm going to see him again!

She shook her head. “Don't think like that. He will be fine.”

But the worry rolling around in her gut didn't make her feel better. It was akin to accelerant thrown on a fire. She didn't want to believe the worst, lest it come true. So she'd have to pretend that everything would be fine. Faking it until she made it had worked when she was younger. She would try a jump or new gymnastics trick, pretending she could do it. The pretending eventually worked, or she got hurt. Either way, it was somewhat effective.

Moving from the couch was necessary, if she was going to stop thinking about him. So she went to the kitchen closet and pulled out her cleaning supplies. She'd put her anxiety to work and clean her apartment completely. She just had to keep busy, keep moving.

* * *

In an undisclosed city in Syria, Declan and the Team were utilizing their favorite segment of SEAL training, evasive driving. Parachuting and playing with the latest tech and guns was pretty cool, but zipping through the streets really got their blood pumping. It added to the moment, when the enemy was chasing them. It felt like something out of an action and adventure movie, except this was real time.

They'd been tasked with retrieving intelligence, and half of their mission was complete. The
when
and
where
the Taliban were hiding their latest stronghold had been uncovered. Unfortunately, their contact had died as he relayed the details. The Syrians had recently captured the additional source, a double agent who was going to lead the SEALs there. That was a serious problem.

Now, with Leaper droning on in his ear, Declan gunned the car's engine and took a hard turn, with Sobbit and Tyler shooting out the back. This could have been labeled a little dramatic, except this shit happened more than anyone would believe. In reality, it was just another day in his blessed life. Being a SEAL meant he was doing some cool-ass shit, if he survived it.

“They're peeling without the squealing,” said Sobbit. The Combat Medic had a wicked sense of humor. Probably went with the territory; patching guys up couldn't be easy.

The rest of the Team had taken a different car and an alternate route to run decoy. Normally, they probably wouldn't have split up, but they'd run into problems with the locals, and it had been optimal to ditch and dash.

Whoever got clear first was going for their safe place (SP). Not a house, but a place where there was better cover and good escape routes. They had a few more contacts tucked around there too.

“Understood,” said Declan. Taking the corner on two wheels had Tyler hooting with laughter and Sobbit holding on for dear life. Declan knew he'd nailed the turn, which gave them an advantage as they sped down the alleyway and made it back out onto the main thoroughfare, losing themselves in the cover of traffic.

After driving a few extra blocks, he was pretty confident no one was on their tail. It'd be worth going to the SP now.

“I'd have preferred a stretch,” teased Leaper as he scanned the area around them too. Declan's gut told him to hit the SP and get out of Syria.