For the Love of a SEAL, page 9
“Alford, Warner, and Crenshaw laid out a perimeter in a radius of a thousand yards with the house in the center. We’ve got cameras with auditory capabilities every hundred feet. Monitors are up and running in the office. Alarms are operational but will only sound off in the office tonight. We spotted some elk on the monitors just after dark that might cause a problem if they break a beam.” Coop chuckled. “I thought we’d give our guests a night to settle in before we scare the hell out of them.”
“Considerate bastard.” Travis grinned as he raised his cup in salute to Coop. A dusting of laughter went around the table.
“The men are on four-hour shifts around the clock. A mouse couldn’t get through without us knowing. There’ll be enough human scent in the woods after tonight the big game should move on and avoid this area.” Coop went through his checklist, grinning with pride. He loved the tech end of things, almost as much as he loved blowing things up, and he made sure PTS Security stayed on the cutting edge on both fronts.
Blake had met Crenshaw and Warner when he flew to San Diego to see the operation after accepting the job offer. Ex-military, they both worked and played hard, and Blake had liked them instantly. He trusted them to not only do their jobs well, but to also manage the team members under them. Alford was an unknown, but so far Blake had no reason to doubt his bosses’ judgments in the hiring department.
After they’d covered the current situation, shop talk gave way to small talk, reminding Blake how comfortable he was with these men—his brothers-in-arms—all cut from the same Navy SEAL cloth. He’d missed the camaraderie, and, at times like this, he was grateful to MacGyver and Travis for bringing him into the fold. Too much alone time wasn’t a good thing.
A door closed somewhere above, and light feet descended the stairs. Kellie strode into the kitchen, a smile on her pretty face, and went to stand beside MacGyver’s chair, reaching out to touch him possessively, as though she couldn’t help herself. MacGyver glanced toward her with a smile before sliding his arm around her hips and pulling her to his side.
They make the whole soulmate thing look easy. Blake frowned and tamped down the pinprick of envy that threatened to weaken his convictions on the treacherous subject.
“I like her. She’s beat, and Isaiah’s still sleeping soundly. I assured her she wasn’t being rude if she tried to get some shut-eye too.” She frowned at Blake. “What the hell were you thinking? Do you know anything about women? For damn sure you don’t know how to show a girl a good time on a first date.”
“Hey! She stowed away in my chopper. That was no date, first or otherwise.” Blake’s protest was lost in the laughter of everyone at the table, including Kellie who, apparently, had only been baiting him. Damn her. He threw his hands in the air and, in the interests of being a good sport, grinned while he took their good-natured ribbing.
The thing was, he couldn’t argue with Kellie. Though nothing that happened today had been his fault directly, Tori shouldn’t have been in his helicopter. He’d downplayed the crash to her, but that didn’t change the fact they’d been damn lucky…and the certainty that things could easily have gone to hell rested squarely on his shoulders with the subtlety of a two-ton boulder.
Blake ran his hands over his whiskered face and stood, carrying his coffee cup to the sink. “Whatever. I’m too tired to defend myself, and you wouldn’t believe me anyway, so I’m going to get some sleep. Wake me for a shift later.”
“Hell no,” Luke said. “We’ve got it covered for tonight. You need some ibuprofen and some down time.”
Blake didn’t protest too much. Luke was right. He left them talking in the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time. Slipping inside his room, he leaned into the door and closed his eyes against the pounding in his head. After a couple of minutes, he emptied the contents of his pockets on top of the bedside stand and placed his handgun in the drawer. A quick trip to the adjoining bathroom produced four gel caps, which he swallowed in one gulp. Choosing not to waste time undressing, he dropped to his mattress fully clothed, removing his boots only as an afterthought.
It was one of those nights when his brain refused to shut off, despite his need for sleep. The events of the day paraded through his mind as though by rehashing them he could somehow change the outcome. He couldn’t. Remembering the softness of Tori’s skin as he’d held her, how she’d tasted, the scent of her hair, calmed his racing thoughts.
He was just drifting off when a high-pitched scream jarred him from what had promised to be a pleasant dream. Automatically jerking the nightstand drawer open, he reached for his weapon as the haze of sleep fell away. He landed on his feet beside the bed just as the scream died. Four long strides and he yanked the door open, stepping into the darkened hallway. The silence was thicker than ever, bringing with it the suspicion he’d imagined the whole thing.
The house was too quiet. Apparently, MacGyver and the others had returned to their duties outside. Not even Kellie stuck her head out to see what was going on. Blake started down the empty hallway, prepared for the worst, even as common sense told him no stranger could have gotten inside without alerting every operative currently on Skyline Ridge.
As he reached the next bedroom, the door opened, and Rafael Perez stepped into the gap. Backlit by lamplight from within the room, he held a baseball bat with both hands. The big black dog at his heels raised his muzzle toward Blake. Man and dog were obviously prepared to defend their family.
“Are the kids okay?” Blake’s whisper seemed loud to his ears.
“Yes. They were sleeping, but the noise frightened them. It came from that direction.” Rafael pointed toward the last two bedrooms on the floor.
“Okay. I’ll check it out. You stay with your family.” Blake waited for Rafael to step inside and turn the lock before moving on.
At the next door, Blake listened. Hearing nothing, he turned the knob and stepped inside. Enough moonlight streamed through the open curtains to quickly determine the room was empty.
The last room had to be Tori’s. He stepped to the door and pressed his ear to the framework, pausing to listen. At first, he didn’t hear anything, but then the soft sounds of a child crying filtered through the crack. Tori’s voice was a low murmur in the background, but he couldn’t make out her words.
Blake tapped on the door, and Tori stopped talking. Soon he heard someone brushing against the other side. “It’s Blake. Is everything all right in there?”
“We’re fine. I’m sorry we disturbed you.” Exhaustion tinged her words.
Blake slid his weapon into his back waistband. “Do you mind opening the door so I can see for myself you and Isaiah are okay?”
There was a long pause before the lock turned and Tori swung the door open. “Isaiah had a bad dream and waking up in a strange place scared him.” She leaned her head against the side of the door. “He didn’t mean to cause problems.”
“He didn’t. May I come in?”
Tori stared at him, her pretty blue eyes filled with concern, before she stepped aside and allowed him to enter. The bedside lamp revealed the pale features of the boy, leaning against the pillows, his tears having turned to sniffles. He watched Blake warily as though the blow to his confidence from earlier warred with a kid’s natural curiosity.
Blake continued to the bed and knelt beside it, eye level with Tori’s son. “Hey, Isaiah. My name’s Blake. Your mom said you had a bad dream.”
“A nightmare.” Isaiah bobbed his head and looked toward his mother.
Blake heard the door close and Tori’s bare feet came closer. He focused on Isaiah. “I get it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woke myself up screaming. It’s no fun, is it?”
Isaiah’s head wagged back and forth emphatically. “No. It’s scary…even after I’m awake.”
Blake nodded. “You’re lucky you have someone who’s pretty and smells good, like your mom, to hug you until you’re ready to go back to sleep.” He caught Tori’s eye and winked, managing to wring a partial smile from her.
Isaiah sat up and reached for Tori’s hand as she perched on the edge of the mattress. “Is that what you do when you have a nightmare?”
Blake laughed. “It’s been a while since there’s been anyone matching that description who wanted the job.”
“Then what do you do?”
“Well…weather permitting, I might go for a run…”
“Outside?” Isaiah’s eyes widened, and Tori issued a sound that might have been a squelched chuckle.
Blake was relieved to see her start to loosen up. “If it’s the middle of the night, or if there’s snow on the ground, I usually go to the gym downstairs in the basement. I punch a bag or press a few pounds. You’d be surprised how fast working up a sweat will take your mind off your troubles.”
“You have your own gym? Can I see it sometime?” Isaiah leaned forward, excitement chasing the worry from his small face.
“You bet. If it’s okay with your mom, I’ll show you tomorrow.” Both looked at Tori, Blake working hard to imitate Isaiah’s puppy-dog eyes.
Tori’s attempt to retain her serious demeanor was doomed to failure in the face of her son’s delight. She broke up laughing, and those sexy-as-all-hell dimples rocked Blake’s world again. They were lethal, and damned if he didn’t want to find a way to keep her amused.
She tousled her son’s hair fondly. “Okay, but that’s tomorrow. Right now, it’s time to sleep.”
Isaiah giggled, wrapped his small hand around Blake’s fingers, and lay back on the pillows. His eyes closed partway, and he looked as though he was ready for anything but snoozing. Laughter shone in Tori’s eyes as Blake considered whether to pull his hand back or stay until the boy dropped off to sleep. How long could that take?
After a brief hesitation and a shrug in Tori’s direction, he flopped on the bed beside Isaiah. As soon as his back hit the mattress, the kid rolled toward him, threw one small arm across his chest and burrowed into Blake’s side.
“Uh oh. What’s this?” Blake hugged the boy who yawned and tucked himself even closer. Possessiveness stirred within Blake…and an unfamiliar longing deep in his soul. He studied the boy’s face while he tried to get a handle on his emotions. If the guys heard about this, they’d have all kinds of ammunition for razzing him. Maybe he didn’t care what his friends had to say. Tori stood on the other side of the bed looking at them, and it made his heart beat a little faster to see her happy for a change. Maybe that was what he cared about.
As soon as she looked at him, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, and she leaned across the bed. “Isaiah, let Blake go, honey. He needs to get some sleep too.” She smiled, an apology worrying her eyes. Tori tried to pull Isaiah to her side of the bed, but he’d apparently become dead-weight in a matter of seconds. She pushed back the hair that had fallen in her face and jammed her hands on her hips. “Isaiah, this isn’t funny.”
It’s a little funny. Blake grinned, and the boy smiled up at him. “Tori.” To forestall her irritation with her son, Blake raised his arm to distract her. When her gaze narrowed on him, he pointed toward the closet. “It’s okay, really. I’ll stay until he goes back to sleep. Why don’t you grab a blanket from the closet and cover him?” Belatedly, the idea that she might want a say in whether he came or went, knocked the grin from his lips. “Uh…unless that’s not okay with you.”
Strange—staying here with her was what felt most natural to him. Judging by the frown that dragged her brows together, those feelings were not reciprocal. After all, the last time they’d been alone and in close quarters, they’d both gotten a little hot and bothered. A frosty couple of seconds later, she huffed out a breath and turned toward the closet. After disappearing from sight, she lingered there considerably longer than it should have taken her to find the extra bedding. He opened his mouth to ask if there was a problem when she stepped from behind the closet door with the blanket over her arm and a gentle smile curving those full lips.
Chapter 8
Isaiah warming to Blake almost instantly lodged an ache in Tori’s chest. Her search for the extra blanket was taking twice as long as it should for fear she’d blubber like a baby in front of Blake. She had no family except her sister. Jane was a terrific aunt, but Isaiah needed a male role model too, as much as Tori hated to admit that. Her son had reached out to Blake, a wonder in itself, but the miracle was that Blake hadn’t minded. He’d spoken to Isaiah as though what her six-year-old son had to say might be important, instead of dismissing him as merely a child. She could kiss him for that.
Oh, crap! She’d already done that—flat out lost her mind and threw herself at him. Her cheeks no doubt reddened as the heat of humiliation swept through her. She carried the blanket to the bed and leaned over to tuck it around Isaiah, partially covering Blake in the process. She brushed a kiss on the side of Isaiah’s ear, catching Blake staring as she straightened. He aimed his lethal grin at her and his eyes appeared to darken a shade in the dim lamplight.
If she needed any further proof that she’d given him the wrong idea by initiating that kiss, it was there in his smoldering gaze. She’d made a colossal mistake in judgment, and she had to set things straight with Blake, but not while her son could overhear.
Tori had kissed Blake out of gratitude for saving her and Isaiah. That was all it was. Though, there was a possibility she’d been influenced by how close he’d stood and his masculine, outdoorsy scent. That sexy damn grin of his was partly responsible for her temporary insanity too.
She wouldn’t lie and tell him the kiss meant nothing to her. There’d been enough sparks flying to ignite a small bonfire. That was the problem. Blake was ex-military—a SEAL, for God’s sake. If Ken had come home broken beyond repair, what horrors did Blake see when he closed his eyes at night? No…she wasn’t going there again.
“Hey, there’s room under this blanket for you too. I’m sure Isaiah would want you to get some rest.” Amusement sparkled in Blake’s heavy-lidded eyes.
Damn him. “We wouldn’t want to give Isaiah the wrong idea.”
“He dropped off while you were looking for the blanket. And you probably don’t want to know what I want.” Blake’s voice lowered to a whisper, and he watched her with an intensity that made her shiver.
With an effort, she resisted the urge to cross her arms to hide the hard peaks beneath her thin shirt. She had to get this out before she lost her nerve. “Blake—”
“You and I came damn close to cashing in our chips today, Tori. Are you telling me you were willing to die with me, but you’re afraid to lay on the same bed with your son between us?”
Blake was taunting her, and Tori wasn’t about to dignify it with an answer. Nor was she willing to have this conversation where Isaiah might wake up and overhear. She turned away and strode toward the door. When she stepped into the hallway, she left the door ajar with a purposeful glance over her shoulder. About a minute later, Blake joined her in the hall, closing the door silently behind him.
“Was it something I said?” he whispered to her back.
Tori turned to face him. “We should talk about what happened earlier.” When his perusal dipped to her chest, she gave in and crossed her arms.
With a soft laugh, he grasped her wrist and tugged her down the hall behind him.
“Wait. Where are we going?”
He kept on walking, speaking quietly over his shoulder. “We’re not going to discuss this out here in the hall. We’re going to my room.”
“But, Isaiah—”
Blake reached his door and pushed it open. “Isaiah is sound asleep, Tori. The place is surrounded by security, and we’re literally two doors away. He’ll be fine.” He pulled her inside the room and closed the door. Tori didn’t move while he strode toward the bed, turned on a bedside lamp, took something from beneath the tail of his shirt and put it in the drawer of the nightstand.
At the foot of the bed, he stopped and placed his hands on his hips. “Okay. Where were we? Oh, right. You wanted to talk about what happened earlier. Which part? The kiss? Holding you so close I could feel every devastating curve? Or maybe our bodies grinding together in all the right places? There’s really no need. I bet I know what you’re going to say.” Blake moved a few steps closer, his attention never wavering, a smirk giving him the appearance of a panther stalking his prey.
“Really? Please, go on.” Tori laid a hand over her heart, willing it to stop pounding so hard.
“You think initiating that kiss was a mistake. You didn’t mean to suggest you were interested in anything more. You’re a single mom and you’ve got your hands full raising your son. You’re not looking for an involvement that’s not in Isaiah’s best interests. So, thanks, but no thanks.” Blake raised an eyebrow as though waiting for her to deny his words.
“Wow.” Tori wouldn’t, even if she could.
“I get it, but now it’s my turn. We shared some deeply intense, personal moments today, including almost dying. In my mind, holding you…kissing you…was the only halfway normal activity. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you walked down those stairs outside the office in those damn red stilettoes. I would have eventually, if you hadn’t finally succumbed to my charms.” A teasing smile faded, leaving him looking unsure. Vulnerable.
“Four years ago, when the Navy kicked me loose with a leg I didn’t know if I’d get to keep, my wife walked out on me. Forever, true love, soul mate—those are things you find on a greeting card, not in real life. I’m not looking for more either, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy the hell out of spending some time with you and Isaiah…if you’re agreeable. No promises. No strings.”
Tori didn’t know what to say for a minute. “I’m sorry about your wife. That really sucks.” The callous woman had obviously ripped his heart out at a time when he’d needed her the most. As a result, he didn’t believe in true love anymore, and that was okay. She didn’t either. Was he offering all the trappings of a relationship without the commitments of one? She was tempted to take him up on it.
