SEAL Under Siege (Men of Valor) (15 page)

“L.R.?”

“Little Rock. Like I’m Little—” He slammed on his mental brake. He’d never told her what L.T. stood for, and as her eyes grew wide, a half grin replacing the strain that had been etched into her features since he’d caught up to her, he knew he’d said too much.

She bit into her lip, her eyes all innocence and charm. “Like you’re what, Tristan?”

“Nothing.”

She wiggled against his side, one hand snaking around his waist, and he had to look away. “What exactly does L.T. stand for? You let me think it was short for
lieutenant,
but that’s not the real truth, is it?”

He let out a groan, part humor, part very real pain. “No need to rehash this.”

Her laughter, even at his expense, was better than the best orchestra playing “Ave Maria.” “Did they call you Little Tristan?”

“There were two of us named Tristan, and the other guy was the size of Mount Rushmore. Obviously I was the smaller one. The instructors decided they needed to keep us straight, so they called him Big Tristan and me Little Tristan. The names just kind of stuck.” He squeezed her until her giggle stopped. “I was the only Tristan in our class to make it through.”

“I’m proud of you.” She pressed onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

Such a natural thing for a couple to do.

But they weren’t a couple.

“Can I help you?” The nurse must have gone on her break, and the man in her place was about the same size as Big Tristan. His voice rattled the pens lining his perfectly organized desk.

“We’d like to see Ashley Waterstone.”

“You related to her?”

“I’m her brother.”

The lines around the man’s mouth relaxed, as though they were about to have words if Tristan claimed any other relationship to the patient. He consulted his computer and nodded slowly. “She’s being transferred to recovery. You can head over in that direction.” He pointed around a bend in the hallway. “Check in at the nurse’s station. I don’t have a room number for her yet.”

“Thank you.” Staci smiled at the behemoth, who responded with a genuine grin and a wink before putting his business face back on for the next person in line.

“I think if I’d been in line alone, I’d be stuck in the waiting room. You’re some charmer, Hayes.”

“See, I’m not completely useless.”

Her words stopped him in midstride, and in the middle of the deserted hallway, he tilted up her chin until she had to look into his eyes. “Listen to me, Staci Hayes. Listen carefully. You’re not useless. You’ve never been useless.”

Head still tipped all the way back, she looked out of the corner of her eyes, avoiding contact with his, insecurities winding through the lines of her face. She didn’t try to respond, so he grasped her shoulders in a solid yet gentle hold.

“You did everything that I trained you to do.”

“Everything but the one thing I should have done. I should have stayed at the house and kept Ashley safe.”

He stabbed a hand through his hair. “That’s more my fault than yours. I should have told Ashley why she couldn’t go anywhere. I could have saved all of us a lot of stress tonight.”

Her gaze swung back to his, her chin quivering. “None of this would be happening if I hadn’t found you and made you help me. This—what happened to Ashley is my fault.”

“Hear me when I say this. You did the right thing. Without you, we wouldn’t have known what was coming. We’d still be in the dark about what’s been planned for Wednesday.”

“But we don’t really know anything, do we?”

How had he forgotten to tell her about his call with Salano? Of course, the scene in the entryway had distracted him. And that kiss still took up too many of his thoughts. “I talked to my FBI friend. He confirmed just what you suspected. Thanks to the tip we gave them, they’ve been able to work with other agencies to intercept some communications that point to the
Rockefeller
as the target of a bombing. And as far as they can tell, it’s going to happen at the commissioning ceremony. Just like you figured.” Her cheek was like silk beneath his thumb, and he smoothed it until her frown disappeared. “Our would-haves and should-haves aren’t going to do a lot of good. We just have to be ready for Wednesday.”

“Will they try to find him before then?”

“Yes. They’re working every angle, but my team will be on the ground, and we’ll do everything we need to do to protect the people at the base.”

Her eyes lit up. “Can’t you just cancel the ceremony? Then no one will be there. If no one’s there, there won’t be any injuries.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. There are always people on the base—navy and civilians who work there. And if we foil the plan now, then we don’t know when or where they’ll strike again. Putting off the bombing isn’t the goal here. Capturing the inside man and taking him out of the equation is.”

“L.T.!”

He turned at the sound of his name as his best friend barreled down the hall. “Matt.” He dropped his hands from Staci’s shoulders to hug the other man, clapping him hard on the back.

“Got here fast as I could.” His words came out on ragged breaths. “Ash? She okay?”

“We were just going to check on her and Little Rock.”

His swallow was followed by a quick gasp. “I’m a dad?”

FIFTEEN

E
motions still too close to the surface to be certain she could control them, Staci stood at the door of Ashley’s hospital room. Leaning against the frame, she offered a wavering smile when Ashley looked up from the bundle of joy in her arms. Matt stood beside her, his arm around his wife and a hand over his son’s little stocking cap.

Tristan stood just inside the door, his face nearly glowing.

“Come on, you two. Come look at him,” Ashley said. “He’s so handsome. Just like his daddy.”

Matt looked like he’d never smiled so hard in his life, and Staci fought the tears burning the backs of her eyes. How could the sight of such a perfect family make her so sad? She just wanted to be happy for them, but the longing for and certainty that she’d never have a family of her own clawed at her heart. Here she was, an outsider among family, but they were waving her in, inviting her close.

Tristan stayed a step back, his eyes wide with wonder. “You did good, kid.”

“She sure did.” Matt kissed the top of his wife’s head, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his embrace.

“I’m so tired,” she sighed. “Having a baby is hard work.”

“Well, you had a baby and emergency surgery at the same time. You get a double pass. Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit? We’ll hold the baby.”

After another loving look at her son, Ashley relinquished her hold on him, and the bundled baby disappeared into Matt’s gentle embrace, the baby no bigger than part of Matt’s arm.

“Come on, Staci. I bet if you ask nice, Matt will let you hold the little guy.”

Staci shook her head quickly. “No. That’s all right.”

Matt held out his arms. “That would be great. I need to call Ashley’s mom and let her know that little Jasper has arrived.”

“Jasper?”

Matt glanced up from staring into the tiny face, eyes pinched closed and pink lips pursed and moving. “It was my foster dad’s name. Thought he should carry it on.” He nodded to the rocking chair next to the bed where Ashley had already fallen into the even breathing of restful sleep. “Want to sit down? I’ll be gone just for a minute.”

Her stomach clenched, torn between the desire to cradle the precious life to her chest and knowing that it would just further break her heart.

Tristan gave her a little nudge, and she slid into the chair. Before she could think about it, Matt leaned over her, slipping the bundle into her embrace. His little head fit into the crook of her arm, and his face broke, as if he was going to let out an ear-splitting scream. But he didn’t. He just sighed and went back to making little sucking noises.

“You good?”

She nodded, never looking away from the precious child, even as Matt slipped from the room and Tristan pulled another chair up beside her. His big hand cupped Jasper’s swaddled feet.

“He’s so perfect.” Jasper’s feet kicked at the sound of Tristan’s voice.

“I’m so glad.” She sighed, letting herself at least enjoy the feeling of relief. “I was really worried. When we were there on the sidewalk, she said there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what it was. And then the surgery—” A terrible thought crossed her mind. What if something had been injured that kept her from having another child? Staci didn’t want company for her own misery.

She turned toward the sleeping woman, then back to Tristan, her voice low and scratchy. “Ashley wasn’t permanently injured, was she?”

“What do you mean?”

“Um.” She had to look away from the intensity of his gaze. “She’ll be able to have more kids, right?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t she?” Confusion filled his eyes, but it was mixed with a tenderness that promised that he was trying to understand her question.

“Sometimes when things go wrong before a delivery and the mother has to go through surgery...” Despite the different situations, it was too close a reminder to her own situation. Heat rose up her cheeks, and she looked away. “Never mind.”

He opened his mouth, as though he wanted to say more, to dig deeper. When he didn’t, she sent him a smile filled with gratitude. She didn’t want to have this conversation with him now.

Or ever.

They sat in silence for what felt like an hour but was probably closer to ten minutes. With each breathy sigh and gurgled grunt, Jasper stole another piece of her heart.

If only she could be part of his life, watch him grow into a young man. But that wasn’t her role. She had no claim to this family.

She glanced at Tristan’s face, his eyes alight with love, his mouth opening and closing as he mimed Jasper’s movements. What wonders newborn babies wove on unsuspecting men.

If she had a right to Tristan’s heart, maybe she could convince him to let her be a part of this family. But she didn’t. Whatever was between them—a few kisses and an attraction that sent her blood pressure through the roof—had an expiration date. One way or another, their reason for being together would end in two days.

She’d be safe or—

Well, there was no need to think about the alternative.

No matter what, she’d be walking out of their lives on Wednesday.

Tristan’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and he huddled over them. “You’re a natural.” His voice was smooth and thick like honey. “You’re going to be a great mom some day.”

The dam burst, tears gushing down her cheeks. She had to get out of there. “Take him,” she cried, slipping Jasper into Tristan’s waiting—if surprised—arms and running from the room.

* * *

Tristan couldn’t sleep. He trudged through the kitchen, opening the fridge door, then closing it again. He filled up a glass with milk, downed half of it in one gulp and stared at the white liquid as though it could explain what was happening inside him.

But it didn’t have any answers or rationalizations.

He set it on the counter, careful not to make enough noise to wake up Staci where she slept upstairs.

Just hours before she’d held his nephew and leaned into his embrace. Is that what it felt like to be a family? Like they belonged together?

He’d thought she’d felt it, too. But then she’d run away. He’d stopped himself from running after, reminding himself of all the reasons why they couldn’t be together, couldn’t build the family he’d craved in that moment when he’d had both Staci and that beautiful baby safe in his arms.

He’d tried that before. He’d tried to keep Phoebe safe. And that hadn’t turned out well at all. Despite the promises he’d made to Staci that he’d keep her safe, he’d known they weren’t guarantees, either—not for anything long-term. His job kept him away, would often leave her alone. There was just no way around it.

A footstep at the doorway jerked his attention to the figure shuffling into the kitchen. “Can’t sleep, either?” Staci’s words were low as she pulled her robe tighter over her leggings.

He held up his glass. “Just thirsty.” Okay, that wasn’t the whole truth, and based on her wry grin, she knew it.

“Want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

She pulled out an open pint of chocolate-covered cherry ice cream and grabbed a spoon from the drawer before settling into one of the stools across the counter from him. Scooping a spoonful of pink cream into her mouth, she sighed. “You have good ice cream.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. My sister only has that low-fat, low-sugar, low-taste stuff.” She sighed, staring into the tub. “And try getting real ice cream in Lybania.”

“You want a bowl for that?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I think I’ll finish it off.”

“What if I wanted some, too?” He didn’t really, but her response would be telling.

“Get a spoon. And you’ll have to hurry.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I guess I’ll live without it.”

She smiled. “Good. Now tell me what’s going on.”

He wasn’t the one who’d broken down into tears when he’d paid her a compliment at the hospital. He had his stuff together. He knew what he was doing and trusted that they’d have everything in place to stop the man bent on destroying the new carrier and injuring hundreds. What he wanted to know was what was wrong with
her.
“I’m good. You?”

Staring into the bottom of her pint, she shrugged before digging out another scoop. “I’m okay.”

“You sure? Because you looked kind of upset before at the hospital.” He was walking on a rotting bridge. One misstep and he’d be in hot water. The problem was he couldn’t tell which steps were the worst.

Her ears turned pink, a muscle in her neck jumping. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About the ceremony and the attack?”

“No.” She set down the spoon and scratched her neck. “I think it would be best for us to go our separate ways. After Wednesday, after he’s captured... I know we haven’t talked about this or anything, but I just think it would be better not to see each other again.”

Her words were a kick to his shins, sharp pain exploding up his legs, and he sagged against the counter. Of course, they hadn’t talked about what would happen after everything went down. He’d been focused on just getting through it.

This came out of left field, and he couldn’t get his mind around it fast enough to respond.

“I don’t understand.” As he said the words, his stomach rolled, his head pounding with the reality. He tried to tell himself that this was for the best—that this was the smartest course of action for them to take, but for once, he couldn’t make himself believe it. All he could think of was that this was the only girl he’d dared to think about a future with since Phoebe, and she didn’t want any of it.

She blinked and licked her lips, still staring at the countertop and the empty carton next to her hand. He willed her to look into his eyes, to help him understand her words, but she didn’t. “A clean break is best for both of us, I think. So let’s just say our goodbyes now so it’s not awkward later.” She stood and walked toward the doorway, while he couldn’t get his tongue to speak. Halfway into the darkness of the living room, she turned back, the tight lines around the corner of her mouth pained. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I won’t forget, and I’ll always be grateful. But let’s make fresh starts after this. All right?”

She didn’t wait for him to agree. He wouldn’t have.

Instead she turned and walked into the living room and up the stairs.

He leaned over the counter, resting his head in his hands. He felt like he’d just been run over by an inflatable boat.

He didn’t want to lose her. But he didn’t have a future to offer her, either.

Moving forward and sharing his life meant trusting that she would be okay when he couldn’t be there. Because there would absolutely be days when he couldn’t be at her side.

Could he trust that God would protect her when he couldn’t?

* * *

On Wednesday morning, Staci awoke with a knot the size of the
Titanic
in her stomach. Whether it was from apprehension for the day ahead or the fact that she and Tristan hadn’t said more than a dozen words to each other since she blurted out her thoughts two nights before, she didn’t know.

The seasick feeling accompanying the knot suggested a combination of both was to blame. But somehow she could only focus on the latter.

She had been terrible. She had seen the confusion and hurt in his eyes, but in her rush to reestablish that barrier between them—the one she hoped would keep her from being hurt—she’d wounded him instead. That barrier from past rejection had made it safe for her to spend so much time with him. But it had vanished somewhere between the hours in the gym and a long slow kiss outside the hospital on the night of Jasper’s birth.

She couldn’t give him what he deserved—a family of his own. Despite her own attraction to him— Oh, who was she kidding? Despite that she’d fallen in love with him, she couldn’t give him what he wanted. As sure as the tides rolled in from the ocean, she would be the one hurt when he lost interest in her after discovering the truth.

It had seemed so much easier to put up that blockade before the pain could go any deeper.

What a stupid plan. She’d meant to keep them both from thinking there was hope for more. But it was all she could dwell on now.

“God, help me to let him go.” She whispered the words into her pillow just as a knock sounded on her door.

“We’ve got to roll in twenty. Be ready.”

She pinched her eyes closed, knowing he was standing on the other side of the door waiting for her reply. “All right.”

Immediately his boots clomped down the stairs, and she flipped back the covers, hurrying to get ready.

When they were in his truck and driving toward the base he finally addressed her. “You’re going to stay with Captain Earley’s assistant today.” Never taking his eyes off the road, he continued. “He’s the commanding officer of the base, and he has a private office. We’ll lock you inside until the whole thing’s over. Got it?”

She nodded. “I guess. What will you do?”

“I’m going to find the man who sold out his country and tried to kill you, and then I’m going to make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

He sounded calm and confident and she knew that she should find his words reassuring. But instead, all she felt was a new dose of dread. He was ready to wrap this up—ready to complete the mission.

Ready to say goodbye to her for good.