SEAL's Bride: A Secret Baby Romance (15 page)

W
hen he got back
to camp, he was surprised to find Walker sitting next to the campfire, sipping what looked like a fresh beer.

“No traitors in camp,” Sawyer said, rolling up his sleeping bag.

“Hey, I thought I was protecting you.”

“From a three year old?” Sawyer asked with a scowl.

“No, I thought Remy and Colt hooked up.”

That gave Sawyer pause. “That’s fucked up, man. You can go ahead and go now, though.”

“I’m here to report on Shiloh.”

Sawyer arched a brow.

“Your son?” Walker asked.

“Oh.” Sawyer scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t get around to asking his name.”

“No, I see that you’re busy out here in the wilderness,” Walker said, glancing around.

“Well? What’s the report?” Sawyer asked, already impatient.

“He’s doing fine. He’s home with Remy.”

“You went by?”

“No, actually. She called looking for you, told me to pass on the message.”

“Hmm. She’s full of information, suddenly.”

Sawyer pointed to the six-pack that Walker had brought, and Walker broke one off to toss it over.

“So… Shiloh.”

“Yeah, it’s a good name,” Walker said carefully.

“For a kid that doesn’t know that I exist,” Sawyer said, popping the tab on the beer. “Perfect.”

“So you’re still in the heavy sarcasm and anger portion of your trip,” Walker said, waving a hand.

“What am I supposed to feel?”

“I don’t know. Grateful that Remy’s taken care of your son, without asking for anything? Sad that you missed out on his younger life, eagerness to participate in the future?”

Sawyer shrugged. “I feel too many things to be able to sort any of it out.”

“Well… none of that really matters now.”

Sawyer paused. “Sorry?”

“You have a kid. That takes priority over your feelings now.”

“That’s a shitty thing to say to your brother.”

“Yeah? It’s like a tiny, tiny taste of what Remy’s probably been living with all this time.”

Blowing out a breath, Sawyer shook his head.

“Doesn’t make what she did right.”

“Nope. But it explains a lot. Mama bear protecting her cub? She’ll do about anything.”

Sawyer sipped his beer, staring into the fire. Thinking.

“I’m more mad at The Colonel than Remy,” he admitted after a minute.

“Fuck him,” Walker said. “He was a shitty father to us. He’s an even worse grandfather, apparently. Doesn’t change anything.”

“No.”

Walker was quiet for a beat, and Sawyer could tell that he was building up to something.

“This is your chance, man. You get to do better than The Colonel. Make sure your kid doesn’t grow up hating you.”

Sawyer sighed. “Yeah.”

“And… look, I hate to play the tragedy card here, man… but you’re the best off of the three of us. Colt’s leg is all fucked up, I’m fucking permanently alone after Jenny died…”

Sawyer kept his expression blank, though he was shocked at Walker’s words. He hadn’t heard Walker use his dead fiancée’s name since her funeral, maybe.

“You’re right,” Sawyer said, inclining his head.

“You get a chance to apologize to your girl, meet your kid… do it all over. Do you know how many people get a do-over? Not fucking many.”

Walker took a long sip of his beer, as if all the talking was working up a big thirst in him.

“So… what? I just forget that it all happened?” Sawyer asked.

“Maybe start with an apology, instead of expecting one,” Walker said. “You knocked Remy up. You changed her whole life. And yet, you don’t see her throwing a hissy fit about it, running off to hide in the woods.”

“Flattering.”

“Accurate.” Walker set down his beer bottle. “Even if it isn’t really your fault, it’s not truly hers, either. She’s put up with a hell of a lot, not asked you for a thing. I can tell you right now, I’d kill to trade places with you.”

Sawyer considered that. “Yeah, I guess she’s a pretty strong woman.”

“Wife material.”

“Jesus,” Sawyer said, rolling his eyes.

“What, you’ve never thought about it?”

“With Remy?”

“Yeah, with the girl who’s been devoted to you for most of our lives.”

Four years
, she’d said. No matter what her reasons were, no doubt complex, she’d waited for him.

“Maybe I should start slow. Meet my son,” he said.

Walker nodded. “Not a bad beginning.”

“Yeah.”

They drank for a bit, poking at the campfire.

“So… you gonna come home, or just live out here like a mountain man?” Walker asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“All right. Well… how about some company?”

“You brought your sleeping bag?”

“I was a SEAL too, you know. I don’t show up for anything unprepared, Sawyer.”

Sawyer smiled, his first in days. “All right.”

“All right?”

“All right.”

And that was enough, for the moment.

B
ack at the ranch
, Sawyer showered and shaved before finally powering his phone back on. A few missed calls from Merissa, two from Remy. Three from a number with a 202 area code.

Washington D.C.

Could be anything, but…

He called back, figuring he needed a clear mind to deal with Remy.

“Hello?” came a woman’s voice.

“This is Sawyer Roman. I missed a few calls from this number.”

“Oh, Sawyer. Yes. This is Ariana Craig.”

Craig. As in, the wife of Darren Craig, his former unit commander. Also the only other person to make it out of their unit alive.

Sawyer’d only met Darren’s wife once, at a gala raising money for veterans, but he remembered her being a friendly face in a sea of strange civilians.

“Ariana,” he said, a dark feeling welling in the pit of his belly. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to hear from me personally. Darren passed away two days ago.”

His heart skipped a full beat.

“But he was released from the hospital, wasn’t he? That’s what I was told.”

She drew a breath, shaky even over the phone line.

“He was never the same after he came back. I’m afraid…” she trailed off, sniffling. “I’m afraid he took his own life.”

Fuck
.

“Ariana, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s… well, it’s not okay, but… I was hoping you might be able to come to the memorial service. It’s tomorrow. I know that’s short notice.”

“Of course. Whatever you need,” he said, gripping the phone tight.

“I’ll have someone send over the details.”

“Of course,” he repeated, completely at a loss for what to say.

“See you tomorrow.”

The call ended, leaving him staring down at his phone, his mind blank. He sat down on his bed, heart heavy, thoughts churning.

“Fuck,” he said again.

Darren had left the SEALs months after Sawyer did. Though they’d been close as brothers during the time they served together, after returning stateside…

They’d both made attempts to see each other, spend time together, but it was always a drag. They couldn’t talk about the explosion, couldn’t talk about their guilt, so it just hung between them in the air.

Poisoned their friendship.

Drove them apart.

Sawyer hadn’t even known that Darren was struggling to reintegrate. Now he was gone, just one more person that Sawyer had let down.

Laying back on his bed, he closed his eyes and said a prayer… not just for Darren, but for himself.

God, please don’t let this be the sum of who I am. I can be more, be better. I know it…

S
awyer jumped
when he heard a knock on his door a few hours later. When he swung the door open, Remy stood on the other side, eyes wide and nervous.

“Hi,” she said. “Can I come in?”

“Uh…” he said, turning to look at his apartment. It was a bit of a mess, clothes strewn across the bed as he packed for his trip. “Sure.”

He held the door open for her and she stepped in, noting his suitcase.

“Taking off?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“No, no,” he said, closing the door. “Well… just for a trip.”

“I thought maybe we would talk before you, um…” she slowed, waving her hand at the suitcase. “Did whatever you’re doing here.”

“Rem… it’s… I have to go to a funeral,” he said, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his jaw.

“Oh!” she said, turning sympathetic in an instant. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. It’s… you know, the night I got drunk? The last surviving member of my unit, he…”

He couldn’t finish.

Remy came over and opened her arms, giving him a warning look before she encircled him in a tight hug. He let her, leaning into the embrace.

It felt… well, nice wasn’t the word.

Incredible
.

That was closer.

“I’m going with you.”

Sawyer hadn’t realized that he’d let his eyes close. He opened them, pulled back, and looked at Remy.

“Sorry?”

“I’m going with you.”

“To… the funeral?” he asked, confused.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because you need someone. And we need to talk anyway.”

“And you don’t think this is, perhaps, terrible timing?”

“Look. I saw you before, that night you got all drunk and sad. You need support, and I could use a night away.”

“I haven’t even decided if I’ve forgiven you yet,” he said, point-blank.

Remy blinked. “Well… we both have a lot to forgive.”

That gave him pause.

“Fair enough.”

“All right. I need to pack. When’s the flight?”

He stared at Remy for a second, feeling overwhelmed. She was so no-nonsense, bossy almost. A side he hadn’t really seen of her, perhaps due to her responsibilities as a mom.

“What about… Shiloh?” he asked, the name sounding foreign on his tongue.

“My parents will take care of him for a night,” she said. “He loves my mother more than anyone else on the whole planet.”

Sawyer stood, paced to the window. “I want to meet him.”

“You will.”

He looked back at Remy, whose expression was endlessly patient.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” she asked.

“Okay. Go pack. The flight’s in four hours, I’ll get you a ticket.”

Her brows arched, but she just nodded. “Okay. Come pick me up on your way?”

“Sure,” he said, marveling at how very very adult they were both being about the whole thing.

“Sawyer?” she asked as she opened the door.

“Yeah?”

“It’s going to be okay.”

He watched her face for another heartbeat, then nodded. She gave him a half smile, then let herself out.

I
can’t believe
I’m standing here right now
, Remy thought.

She looked around at the sea of unfamiliar faces at the wake, lots of men and women in Navy dress whites crowded in a ballroom. Plenty of people in black too, like Remy…

But they were spouses, parents, friends. None of them were quite in her…
unique
situation.

After she’d gathered all her courage and gone way out on a limb to invite herself to follow Sawyer to D.C., it seemed dumb to be as nervous as she was right now.

For the most part, she was just a blonde in a fancy dress, following Sawyer around as he shook hands with various people. He’d stopped introducing her after the first few, because it was too awkward.

“This is Remy, my… friend,” he’d said, frowning.

Meanwhile, Remy was blushing red to the roots of her hair as she shook hands with a serious-looking silver-haired man in uniform.

There was that word again,
friend
. Sawyer liked to throw that around, didn’t he?

Then again, there wasn’t much of a better word for it. Baby mama was too trite. Ex-girlfriend was too… finite.

So she’d drifted to the side of the room, accepting a glass of champagne. Watching Sawyer from afar, trying not to let his dress uniform do wicked things to her brain.

Failing, totally and completely.

He looked beyond handsome, and from this distance Remy could actually watch other women reacting to Sawyer. He turned heads, made women bite their lips and give him longing looks when they thought his head was turned.

Not that Remy could judge them. She wasn’t any better, over here in the corner all longing while he was mourning his friend.

Adding to the awkwardness, they
still
hadn’t talked.

When she climbed into his SUV, he’d quietly asked if she could wait until after the funeral to deal with all the rest of it.

“Of course,” she’d said, and she’d meant it.

So they’d slept in different hotel rooms, met up before the funeral service. She’d held his hand during the internment, Sawyer watching the casket lower into the ground, so tense that she was worried he might faint.

After that, he’d seemed to need distance. So she bided her time, checking and rechecking her phone to see if her mother had called. Any minute now, she was going to sneak out and call Shiloh, just to check in.

“He’s something, isn’t he?”

Remy turned to find a statuesque brunette standing beside her, holding a matching champagne flute. In a curve-hugging black dress that showed off her fit, tanned body, no less.

“Sorry?” Remy asked, unsure if the woman was talking to her but not seeing anyone else around.

“Sawyer. I saw that you two arrived together.” The brunette’s lips curved in a humorless smile.

“Oh. Uh… we’re…” Remy started, then stopped. “Sorry, who are you?”

“Merissa,” she said, extending an elegant hand. “His girlfriend.”

Remy’s mouth opened, but no sound came out for a second.

“Oh,” was all she managed.

“Yeah. It’s funny, when he texted last night to say he was in town, I wasn’t expecting… well, I’m not sure why he brought you along. Third wheel, much?” she said, giving a little laugh. “That Sawyer, never thinking with the right head, huh?”

She tapped her temple. Remy blinked, immediately off-put.

“He’s never mentioned you,” Remy said slowly, canting her head to the side.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

Merissa gave her an indulgent smile, then tsked. “Men, huh?”

“Right,” Remy said, feeling cornered.

“Yeah. You know what’s so great about Sawyer, though? We always pick right up where we left off. Kinky sex, right out the gate. You know what I mean?” Merissa asked with a sly grin.

“Um, no?” Remy said, furrowing her brow.

“Oh… well. Don’t worry about it.” Merissa patted her arm.

“Will you excuse me?” Remy asked, putting her glass down on a table.

“Of course,” Merissa practically purred.

Heels clicking, Remy crossed the ballroom’s marble floor, headed straight for Sawyer. He turned and noticed her, giving her a nod but continuing his conversation with an elegant older woman.

“Would you mind if I borrowed him for a second?” Remy asked the woman, putting on her sweetest smile.

“Oh… sure,” the woman said, giving them a knowing look.

“Remy, what are you doing?” Sawyer asked as she dragged him off by the arm.

She towed him out of the ballroom toward a side hallway before rounding on him.

“I just met Merissa.”

Sawyer’s expression tightened. “Did you, now?”

“Yeah. She introduced herself to me as your
girlfriend
.”

“She’s a liar.”

“Was she lying when she said that you texted her last night when we got into town?”

Sawyer hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I did text her. I knew she was going to be… around.”

“Interesting,” Remy said, crossing her arms.

“It’s not what you think.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“I wasn’t trying to see her last night or anything.”

“That’s good to know. You weren’t just going to hook up with her, with me in the next room?”

“Remy, don’t be like this.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Were you two together?”

His gaze narrowed. “Yes.”

“Did you break things off with her before…” Remy paused, taking a breath. “Before you spent the night with me?”

His expression darkened. “No. It wasn’t like that between us.”

“No?”

“I mean, between me and Merissa.”

“I can see why this would be very confusing for you.”

“Remy…” he tried.

“No, you know what? This was my fault. I thought we’d both grown up, that there was a chance for us to find a path forward, together. But…” she said, shaking her head. “I think I was just looking for a fairytale where one cannot exist.”

Turning, she started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Sawyer called.

She slowed, then turned. “I have a kid to take care of. I get that you have a lot going on, but… I can’t wait around to see if you maybe want to be with me, or maybe want to be with Merissa, or… whatever. I have Shiloh to think about.”

“Remy, don’t leave—”

But she was out the door, feeling like Cinderella fleeing the ball. She rushed over to a cab and climbed in, not looking back.

She shouldn’t have come here. It wasn’t where she belonged, not with things between her and Sawyer so up in the air.

There was one man who’d never let her down, though…

And if she got on a plane in the next hour, she just might make it home in time to tuck him into bed.