Ruined by the SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights Book 2) (16 page)

“Don’t say it like that, though.”

“Because they need to get with the program. Hello, it’s the twenty-first century.
We need to be doing big things, bold things. No more empty, preserved tombs.”

“I think you’ve lost me.”

Cara stopped right in front of her best friend and tapped the pencil on her clipboard once more time. “Living history, Daph. Living. History.”

“Okay. Count me in. Team #LivingHistory.”

“Oh my God. Yes. Hashtag. Blog.” She waved her pencil in the air. “You’re going to have to help me with
that.”

“I have to work in two hours.”

“Not today.” Cara shook her head. “I mean, I don’t need your help today. Yes, go to work. I need to finish this up, and that’s going to take me a couple of days, but come this weekend, Daph, we’re going to blow the socks off this island.”

“Nobody wears socks. It’s a hundred degrees in the shade.”

Cara scribbled that down. It was good. Then she wrote Tourism
Board above it, because there was more than one way to open a coconut. “You’re a genius, Daphne.”

“What did I say?”

“Shade. Beach. Tourism. Genius.”

“Okay. I want a cut of the profits.”

“No profits. Non-profit, to be more specific. Oh, this is going to be good.”

Cara left her friend standing in the ballroom as she took the stairs two at a time. Tricky in heels, but her enthusiasm didn’t care.

“I’m still not clear on what this is,” Daphne hollered after her.

“#LivingHistory,” Cara shouted back, her face splitting into a grin. It didn’t matter if she hadn’t explained it properly to Daphne just yet. She could see it so clearly now in her head, it was a thing of beauty.

She couldn’t wait to tell Mick.

SEVENTEEN

“T
URN RIGHT IN FOUR HUNDRED YARDS,”
Mick’s GPS lady told him.

He raised his eyebrows. As he was currently driving a rental car down the Overseas Highway that stretched between the islands of the Florida Keys, turquoise water on either side, that was quite a trick she was proposing. But then up ahead appeared another island, and crazy British computer lady voice reminded him his
turn was coming up.

Search and SEALs was located on Angel Cay, a tiny slice of white sand and palm trees. Mick figured it was as good a place as any to train search and rescue dogs. The island was small but private, and the dogs set up a racket when he pulled to a stop in front of a group of bungalows. Finn came bounding out of the one labeled “Office,” although Mick had never seen an office
with an ocean view like this one. The blue water of the Gulf was everywhere he looked.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were all-in down on Miralinda.”

Mick held out his hand and Finn shook it—a rough, familiar greeting that helped settle Mick a bit.

Just a bit, though. He couldn’t stop thinking about Cara. “Yeah. I am. I’m going back. I just needed to get away for a bit, and the island’s
like ten feet long, so…thought I’d come visit you guys. Thought we could talk business a bit, too.”

“Using Will’s money to pay other people to do the work for you?” his friend poked good-naturedly.

“Nah. Not doing any construction yet.” Mick cleared his throat. “We ran into a snag. Turns out the estate needs to be probated or something. Gonna delay us a few months. It’s all good, though.”

Except it wasn’t good, not exactly. It was resolved, as much as it could be. Settled. Done.

But
good
? That was far from certain. The Historical Society had invested real money in Villa Sucre, and someone—Cara—would have to be held accountable for that waste.

Finn frowned at him. “You don’t seem enthusiastic about this new venture.”

Mick shook his head. “I am. It’s just complicated. There was
a woman…”

Finn laughed as Mick trailed off. “Shit. That’s never a good complication. Unless she’s stacked, in which case, bring it on.”

A flare of jealousy lit up in Mick’s chest. “That’s none of your business.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Uh-huh, nothing.”

“Not just a woman. But a
woman
. One you’ve developed inconvenient feelings for?”

“What would you know about that?”

“All feelings are inconvenient. Talked
to Evan, though, about Dex and feelings appear to be making the rounds.”

“Yeah, that’s some news about Dex, eh? He actually wanted to borrow the plantation for a private getaway with his new bride.”

“And he can’t have it because…”

Mick scuffed his heel against the sandy dirt. “It turned out Will wasn’t the only one who thought he’d inherited Villa Sucre.”

Finn let out a low wolf-whistle and
crossed his arms. “This story I gotta hear. Over a glass of something cold?”

Mick nodded and followed Finn inside the main building. “This is great place. You gonna show me around?”

“Think of this as a hostage exchange,” Finn tossed over his shoulder. “First I hear about the girl. Then you get the tour.”

Finn held up two cold beers and Mick nodded. Then he silently followed his friend out to
the patio behind the office.

Mick started at the beginning and didn’t leave much out, except for the parts where Cara got naked. That was nobody else’s business but his. “So I’m giving her some space—to clear out of the plantation, to re-focus on her job and give it all she’s got. She’s worried she might lose her position over this, which is so fucking unfair.”

“You’re not worried she’s going
to loot the place?”

Mick shot his friend a dirty look. “No. Jesus.”

“Trust her that much, huh?”

Yeah, he did. “It’s not her fault that this got messed up. Hell, she was probably right to try and preserve it…”

They sat in silence for a minute, maybe two, before Finn cleared his throat. “You gonna finish that thought?”

Mick rubbed the tension spot between his eyebrows. “It’s done and over.”

“It feel over?”

No. “I’m not sure it’s my fight, you know? I’m just barely getting my life back together. Trying to make Will and Cara and everyone else happy…that’s too much.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Didn’t think you were a quitter.”

“We’re all quitters. Don’t give me that. I couldn’t stay on the teams.”

“Not what I said. To everything there is a season, and we’re done serving our country in that
way, sure. But we’re not done being good guys and doing good things, right?”

But Mick thought he might be tapped out. Drained of all that heroic virtue he’d once thought such a core part of his being. He hadn’t felt like a hero since the day his leg had been ripped to shreds, and he sure as shit didn’t feel like one now.

Except…he couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in his gut that he shouldn’t
have left the plantation. Shouldn’t have left Cara.

He might not feel heroic, but he still had a strong sense of duty. He just resented it, because… “You guys are doing good things here, aren’t you?”

Finn shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. It’s hard not to be on the front lines anymore. But you also gotta trust that the guys who took our place are the best.
 
Brayden’s trained them to be hard as fuck,
right?”

Mick had to nod. Yeah, his buddy was the best BUD/S instructor there was.

“You didn’t leave a hole there, Mick. Getting injured…that's life-altering. But you didn’t wound the navy.
You’re
the one that got hurt. You’re the one that needs to be put back together. The navy will carry on just fine without you.”

He laughed, raw and hollow at first, but then the truth of what Finn was saying
finally hit him. “Damn.”

“Yeah.” Finn took a long, slow drink, watching Mick over the bottle the whole time. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before continuing. “Can I ask you a hard question?”

“What has the rest of this conversation been?”

Finn laughed. “Didn’t you know you were coming to the Keys for kick-in-the-ass therapy?”

“Not exactly.” Mick tipped his head forward. “Shoot.
Hit me with your worst.”

“Does your woman know you’re torn up like this inside?”

No. And if he had anything to say about it, she wouldn’t. Ever. “It’s dark, you know? That guilt. Like I’m embarrassed to feel this way. But it’s hard to shake, too.”

“I get that.” Finn spread his arms out wide. “I’m not judging, man. At all. Just talking it out.”

“Thanks.”

“Just remember, getting out of the
military didn’t change your personality, and what you need. It’s in your blood, it’s who you are, and if you pretend otherwise, you’re never going to be satisfied with the new life you’re trying to create. It won’t be enough.”
 

They sat like that for a few minutes, Mick stewing over his thought, Finn just watching the dogs in the nearby dog run.

Then Finn stood and pointed to the kennel. “You
want to see what we’re doing here?”

“You bet.” Mick stood as well, promising himself that he’d leave as much of this shit behind him when he left again. It was time to step up and be all-the-way honest with Cara about who he was and what he wanted.

EIGHTEEN

W
HEN
M
ICK GOT BACK TO THE ISLAND LATE TWO NIGHTS LATER,
he couldn’t find Cara anywhere.
 

She wasn’t at home, or the plantation, and he even looked up the Historical Society and went by their offices. Closed up for the night.

He’d promised her a week, but after spending two days getting some good sense knocked into him by Finn, he knew he couldn’t stay away that long.

He didn’t
need to stalk her, though, so he headed back to the plantation and tucked himself into his bunk.

While he was gone, Will had arranged to officially rent the space from the estate, so Mick was a legal tenant. This was his home for the foreseeable future.

In the morning he would see what he could do about getting a bigger bed.

After his worn paperback copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep
smacked him in the face for the third time, he admitted he needed to just go the fuck to sleep.

She’ll be around in the morning
.

He left his light on, though. Just in case.

~
 

C
ARA’S HEART SWELLED IN HER CHEST WHEN SHE PULLED INTO THE PLANTATION
in the middle of the night.
 

A little bird had told her that Mick had landed at the airport, and when she got back from Sunshine Bay, Miralinda’s
capital city, she came straight to him.

Using a flashlight to light her way, she made her way through the garden. There was a faint glow in the front window, and when she opened the door she found the source—he’d left his lantern on and his door open.

After slipping off her shoes, she kept silently into his room and lifted the soft sheet draped over his large, slumbering body.

He needed a bigger
bed. Maybe one that didn’t have a top bunk.

“Cara?” he mumbled as she curved against his back.

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” she whispered, kissing his back.

“I couldn’t stay away.”

“I know. I’m sorry I asked you to.”

“Come here.” He rolled over and pulled her into his side. His voice was full of sleep and all his muscles were relaxed, and it was like being hugged by a giant, sweet teddy bear.
“Just let me hold you.”

An unexpected tear leaked out the corner of her eye as he quickly drifted off again, his arms now steel bands around her.

She didn’t sleep much herself, which was totally fine, because when he woke up at the crack of dawn, she rose with him, and over coffee she told him her plan.

“They can take it or leave it,” she said after explaining how she’d come to the realization
that she didn’t need the Historical Society to do what she wanted to do with Villa Sucre.

“Are you sure you can be that firm with them? It all sounds expensive.”

She nodded. “And that’s where your friend comes in. The billionaire?”

“He’s not exactly a billionaire,” Mick said, his lips twitching at the echo of his own threat.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I know. But his grandmother was,
and there’s a butt load of money somewhere in that estate. So I think, and this is where you come in—we make a joint application to the executors. Will inherits the land, as it’s probably rightfully his, but the millworks and the main house are protected and supported by a trust. There’s enough land around, either that came with the property or that could be purchased adjacent to it, that he can
build a modern training facility somewhere that doesn’t require demolishing those two buildings. And the trust would provide money, not just for repairs, but also fund an endowment that would support an ongoing living history project. And if we do that right, then the Tourism Board would provide an annual grant as well. Tax write-offs, charitable good will, and a tourist draw that goes beyond beach
and pampering. It’s a win for everyone.”

“You’ve thought this out.” He looked surprised, and then chagrined. “Of course you have. This is what you do, isn’t it?”

It was what she’d wanted to do, but the Historical Society had never been interested. But now… she pressed her hands tighter around her coffee mug to keep her fingers from shaking. “When I was at school, I did a placement at an aboriginal
village living museum. It was amazing. I don’t want to go off-island to have that kind of career opportunity again. I want to make my own opportunity, you know?”

He looked at her for a long, stretched-out beat, then nodded. His cheeks had coloured a bit. “I do. And I wish I’d seen that before. It’s a brilliant solution, Cara. But more than that, I’m proud of you. I’ve spent the last couple of
days with a friend of mine who’s built something really incredible in the Florida Keys. I want to do that here. With you. It would mean a lot to me to get this right.”

Mick was talking about feelings? The world had tilted on its axis overnight. “That’s great,” she said softly. “So you had a good trip?”

“If by good you mean humbling, then yes.” He gave her a rueful smile. “But at the end of it,
inspiring as well. Finn reminded me that I need to find something I can fight for again. He’s struggling with his own demons, too, but he’s still putting one foot in front of the other. That’s what I need to do. That’s who I am—a fighter, a protector. Leaving you to do this on you own didn’t sit right with me. But I’m proud as hell that you dug deep and figured out what you wanted.”