SEAL's Baby (Navy SEAL Secret Baby Romance) (16 page)

“Don’t call me that,” I
said through gritted teeth. “You don’t miss me; you just missing having someone
to torture.”

“That’s unfair,” Paul
said with indignation. “Torture is a strong word.”

I glared at him. “Do you
even remember what happened?”

“Perfectly,” Paul
replied. “But to be honest, darling, I think that was an over-reaction on your
part.”

“You are such a colossal
asshat,” I said trying to be the bigger person and simply walk away.

“Asshat?” Paul repeated
in amusement. “Did you learn that from one of the kids in school?”

“As a matter of fact, I
did,” I replied.

Paul laughed. “You look
really pretty tonight. Did you get all dressed up for me?”

“You wish,” I shot at
him.

“Well I like it,” he
said. “Especially that tight, little skirt. It makes your ass look big.”

“You pervert,” I said
looking at him with disgust.

“Aw come on,” Paul went
on. “I’m trying to give you a compliment.”

“A compliment?” I asked
in anger.

  
“I have to say though Elizabeth … you didn’t look half so good
when we were married,” Paul went on. “It’s almost like you stopped trying. In
which case you can’t really blame me for everything that went wrong between
us.”

“Are you serious?” I
demanded incredulously.

“What?” he asked as
though he were genuinely shocked by my outrage. “Well come on, it takes two to
tango,” Paul said as though he were the victim. “And you certainly never wore
that skirt when we were married.”

“You are a piece of
work,” I said mostly to myself. “Heather!” I called. “Take over for me, will
you? I’m gonna wait on the tables.”

“Aw come on Elizabeth,
don’t be like that,” Paul said. “Stay and talk to me; we’re just having some
fun here.”

  
I ignored him and moved towards the tables. I didn’t know if he
was watching me or following me; all I knew was that I wanted to get as far
away from him as possible. People had their own assumptions as to why our
marriage ended and I knew that some of Paul’s lies about me had spread like
wild fire, not because they had any real merit, but simply because they were
more interesting.

  
Mostly people just couldn’t believe that nice and friendly Paul was
actually capable of verbal abuse. They saw the smile on his face and they
thought they knew him. I knew the truth. I knew what he was when the doors and
windows were shut and no one was around. The smile slid off his face and what
replaced it was something entirely different.

“Lizzie?”

  
I looked up in surprise. I had been so preoccupied fuming about
Paul that I hadn’t even heard Dylan approach me. “Hi,” he said with that
beautiful smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s ok,” I said.

  
He looked like some Greek god who had just landed on Earth. He was
so beautiful that I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. When we had been together
all those years ago, I had loved how long and silky his hair had been, but now
I preferred the short-cropped hair. It put his dazzling features on full
display.

“I probably don’t deserve
it,” he teased. “But can I get a kiss.”

  
He didn’t wait for me to reply. Instead, he wrapped an arm around
my waist and pulled me to him. In that moment, I forgot that I was at work, I forgot
that there were tables to be cleaned up and orders to take. I even forgot that
Paul was sitting by the bar watching the whole thing. All I wanted was to feel
his lips on mine, to feel his body close against mine.

  
His lips had just barely touched mine when he was ripped away from
me and suddenly I was staring at Paul instead. “Paul …” I gasped. “What the
hell are you doing?”

“Dylan fucking Thomas,”
Paul said, his eyes were narrowed threateningly at Dylan.

  
Dylan on the other hand looked calmly amused. “Paul fucking
Kapke,” he responded, looking Paul up and down as though he were an insect that
had just crawled into his food.

“You didn’t die over
there?”

“Obviously not,” Dylan
responded coolly.

“Shame.”

“Paul!” I exclaimed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Get out of here.”

  
He acted as though I hadn’t spoken. His eyes were trained on Dylan
and nothing else. “You used to walk around like you owned the fucking town,”
Paul said. “I see that hasn’t changed.”

“You used to walk around
like you had mulch for brains,” Paul swung back at him. “Apparently that hasn’t
changed either. Get out of my face, Kapke.”

“You gonna make me?”

Dylan rolled his eyes.
“Are you for real man?” he asked. “We’re not in high school anymore.”

“Lucky for you,” Paul
said.

  
“Why?” Dylan asked with raised eyebrows. “Because you’d have your
little gang for backup? Well, unlike you, I don’t need a three other guys at my
back to feel like I can take anyone on.”

“I can take you on just
fine by myself.”

“No one is taking anyone
on tonight,” I said getting between them. “Please, Paul, just go home.”

“Are you fucking him?” he
asked suddenly, his eyes flashing to me.

“I … none of your damn
business,” I stammered, aware of everyone’s eyes on us.

Paul shook his head at
me. “I always knew you were a whore.”

  
I jerked back as Dylan’s fist made contact with Paul’s face. The
bar erupted into chaos and people were forced to jump out of the way as Dylan
and Paul went at it in the center of the pub. I stood there, unable to jump in
to help, powerless to stop them.

  
“Hey, HEY!” a booming voice yelled and I turned to find Jack standing
near the bar staring over at Dylan and Paul in disbelief.

“Fuck,” I gasped knowing
that Jack would not take kindly to any damage caused by the fight.

  
A couple of men, including Jack, moved forward in an attempt to
stop the fight but they were too late. Dylan pushed Paul against one of the
tables with his hands twisted behind his back. I watched him bend down slightly
and say something close to Paul’s ear. I heard Paul grind his teeth in anger as
he tried desperately to break Dylan’s hold on him.

  
It was no use, however; Dylan’s hands remained firm and
unbreakable. He looked like he was barely exerting pressure in the first place.

“Damn,” I heard a girl in
the next table say. “He’s hot.”

I moved away from the
other tables and walked up to Dylan. “Dylan, please,” I said. “Let him go.”

“Sure,” Dylan smiled
pleasantly but there was a glint in his eye. “But first, let me show him the
door.”

  
Dylan pulled Paul up, keeping a tight hold on his arms and pushed
him towards the door. I heard Paul groan as he was pushed out onto the street
like some rabid animal. I glanced at Jack who was looking straight at me.

“Paul started it,” I
said.

“I don’t doubt it,” Jack
hissed. “You need to keep him out of here.”

  
“I don’t have any control over him, Jack,” I said. “And you know
that, but if you want to ban him from the bar, then go right on ahead.”

He grunted at me. “Get
back to work.”

“My shift is over,” I
reminded him.

  
He gave me a side-glance. “Fine then,” he grunted again and
started barking orders at Heather and Joni. On any other day, I would have
stayed a little longer and helped out, but this time I moved straight for
Dylan.

“Are you all right?” I
asked looking him up and down.

“Of course.”

“You’re not,” I said
instantly. “Your lip has split.”

Dylan reached up and
touched his finger to his lip. “That’s nothing,” he said. “Barely a scrape.”

“All the same, come with
me,” I insisted. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”

A smile spread across
Dylan’s face. “Well how can I say no to that?”

  
I shook my head at him and led him through the bar to the
backrooms where my things were. I led him to the bathroom and he leaned against
the counter while I got out the first aid kit.

“So … it was nice seeing
Paul again after all these years,” Dylan said sarcastically.

“Yeah I’ll bet,” I
replied giving him a glare.

“What?” Dylan asked. “You
didn’t expect me to just stand there while he insulted you, right?”

I sighed. “You didn’t
have to defend me like that,” I said.

“Of course I did,” Dylan
said in a baffled voice. “He has no right to talk to your like that; he has no
right to talk
about
you like that.”

I shrugged. “At this
point I’m used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t have
to be,” Dylan insisted.

“What can I do, Dylan?” I
asked. “It’s not like I can control him.”

Dylan shook his head in
frustration. “Maybe I should have a talk with him.”

  
I put my hands on his chest. “I know the kind of talk you mean,” I
said with a small smile. “And while I appreciate the gesture, I really don’t
think it’s a good idea.”

“Well if you change your
mind …”

“I’ll let you know,” I
replied.

“Do you still want to do
something tonight?” Dylan asked.

I sighed. “How about we
try again tomorrow?” I suggested.

“Anything you want,” Dylan
said.

“We could meet in the
afternoon,” I suggested. “And then maybe we could have dinner with your
mother.”

Dylan smiled. “She’ll
love that,” he nodded.

  
“Great.” After a moment, I looked up at him. His eyes were so beautiful;
they made me feel calm without reason. “Thank you,” I said after a moment.

“For what?” he asked,
raising his eyebrows.

“For defending me
tonight,” I replied.

  
Dylan’s smile was soft and tender, but there was an edge of
sadness to it as well. He reached up and grazed his fingers across my cheek. I
thought he was going to wave away my gratitude as though it was his duty. I
thought he would laugh and say it was his pleasure. Instead, he stared at my
face with his fingers caressing my cheek.

  
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

Chapter Seventeen

Dylan

  
Mom had her hand wrapped around my arm as we made our way up the
isle to one of the pews at the front of the church. Tyler was walking just
behind us. People smiled and nodded at us as we passed and I knew that my father’s
death was still fresh in their minds.

  
I felt my mother return their smiles with glassy eyes as though
she were seeing them all without really seeing them. I sat down with mom and
Tyler on either side of me and glanced around searchingly.

“She’s not here,” mom
said unexpectedly.

“What?” I asked playing
dumb. “Who?”

“You know who,” Tyler
said impatiently. “Elizabeth.”

“How do you know?” I
asked.

“She hasn’t been to
church in years,” mom replied before Tyler could.

  
“Why?” I asked curiously, knowing how religiously Elizabeth had
always attended Sunday mass. She had always been the more spiritual one of the
pair of us and in fact it had been her faith that had held mine in place.

  
My mother went to church every Sunday but my father had never been
a particularly religious man. Sometimes he went and sometimes he didn’t, mom
never forced any of us to go with her and if it hadn’t been for Lizzie, I would
never have thought to make church a weekly ritual. Once I realized how
important it was to her, I went along to try and understand what she got out of
it.

  
We would have long talks about faith, about spirituality and about
the power of humanity and slowly I started to see why Lizzie might draw
strength from that kind of belief. It was nice to have something to trust in
even if you couldn’t see it or hold it or touch it. That kind of belief could
give you all the tools you needed to survive life. Anytime I had a question I
would go to Lizzie and she would do her best to answer it for me.

  
There were times when she was stumped and she wasn’t sure. Rather
than ignore my question or guess at the answer, she would go to the pastor and
talk to him. She would get me an answer, even if I couldn’t really understand
it and I would feel somehow better. I felt more spiritual just by being near
Lizzie, it was as though her faith burned so brightly that its light fell on me
and blessed me in some way. That was how it felt to be loved by her. It felt as
though I was blessed.

“Hmm?” Tyler asked

“Why hasn’t Lizzie been
to church in years?” I repeated the question.

“You’d have to ask her,”
Tyler replied.

  
Through the whole sermon, I sat there wondering what had happened,
why Lizzie had stopped coming for mass. I noticed that Maddie was there,
sitting a few pews down from us and I made a mental note to talk to her after
the congregation had dispersed. I barely concentrated on what the pastor was saying;
my head kept flitting to Elizabeth, then to my upcoming deployment and then
back to Elizabeth. I was on an unending loop in my head that I couldn’t seem to
escape.

  
Finally the pastor concluded his sermon and we rose to our feet
and made out way outside. I stood with mom and Tyler until I saw Maddie emerge
from the church’s entrance.

“Excuse me,” I said to mom
and Tyler as I moved off in her direction. “Maddie!” I called, waving to catch
her attention.

“Dylan,” she greeted with
a smile. “Hi, how are you?”

“Good,” I nodded
distractedly. “I didn’t see Lizzie here today?”

“Ah, no, you wouldn’t
have,” Maddie replied. “She doesn’t really come to church anymore.”

“Is there a reason?”

  
Maddie sighed. “She had a hard marriage, Dylan,” she explained. “I
think it shook her faith a little. She was still married to Paul when she
stopped coming to church, and after the divorce … I guess she was too far gone
to come back from that.”