The SEAL's Best Man (Special Ops: Homefront Book 2) (7 page)

Damn him
.

Every pore in Maeve’s body seemed to
sizzle with perspiration. Inhaling deeply, she struggled to resume her
composure as he extended his hand to help her out of the truck. She didn’t take
it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He gripped her forearm lightly, and
placed his thumb on her wrist as he watched the seconds fly by on his watch. “Your
pulse is about 140. You can’t deny you felt something just now.”

She ripped her arm from him, and leaned
against the truck. “Don’t be an ass. You were just freaking me out coming on to
me like that. That’s all.”

“Bullshit.”

Frustrated, she charged toward the diner,
as he followed in long, lazy strides behind her. “We’re just better as—”

“—friends.” Jack finished her
sentence for her, the way he so often did. Nonchalant, he opened the door for
her. “Works for me.”

Works for him.
Three words that cut like a knife. Couldn’t
he at least put up a bit of a fight?

Just friends wasn’t working for her. Out
of the corner of her eye, she watched him as they waited for the hostess to
seat them. He didn’t look annoyed. He didn’t look frustrated. Hell, he didn’t
even look aroused—and meanwhile every square inch of her skin longed to
cling to him like Saran Wrap.

Comforted by the aroma of strong coffee
and sizzling eggs, Maeve slid into a booth just as a flock of seagulls lifted
themselves from the bay outside their window.

“Coffee?” he asked her when the waitress
arrived, as though the last five minutes had never even happened.

“Yes.” She was determined to sound as
nonchalant as he did. “Idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

Jack burst out laughing, and Maeve couldn’t
help cracking a smile in return. Trying to distract herself, she looked out the
window.

“You’re not really mad at me, are you?
I’m just calling it like I see it.”

 “No.” Maeve pouted. It was so hard
staying angry at Jack, she thought, as he poured creamer in her coffee and
asked the waitress for a side of brown sugar. “But for the record, my pulse was
up because of the coffee I drank in the car.”

“Of course. I should have known that.” He
nodded sagely, clearly suppressing the grin that was peeking out from the
corner of his mouth.

The diner overlooked the east side of
Prospect Bay and even through the glass of the window, she could hear a
cacophony of morning birdsong outside. Hell of a view for a place that served a
$4 omelet. You can’t get this on the other side of the Bay Bridge, she thought,
trying to focus on the menu. “How did you know about this place? Have you been
here before?”

“Back in my senior year at the Academy, a
lot of us used to stop here for breakfast on our way to Ocean City. The place
has been open forever. My dad used to take us here when he was stationed here,
too.”

“Your dad? He’s in the military?”

“Was, yep. A Marine.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Yeah, no kidding.
Maeve’s mind drifted momentarily to the
feel of his breath on her lips, held so close to him. She glanced back down to
the menu, unable to meet his eyes.
Focus. Focus.
“Is that why you
joined?”

“Maybe a little. My dad never pushed me,
but you know, the culture just becomes a part of you growing up. With my grades
and SAT scores, I could have gotten in just about anywhere. But the Academy
felt like home.” Jack pointed to a photo on her menu. “Try the crab stuffed
omelet. It’s the best.”

Maeve’s mouth watered at the suggestion.

As Jack ordered for both of them,
movement outside the window again drew her eye. Two herons soared past, slicing
through the rosy mist that hung over the bay. A group of fishermen walked along
the docks together, and a smattering of crabbers bobbed in the water checking
on their traps.

Maeve glanced around at the people
surrounding her. Not a hint of make-up, not a single stiletto, and no sight of
designer handbags. And each person looked perfectly content, satisfied to
simply be enjoying a good cup of coffee with their neighbors. While Annapolis
was a quaint and laid-back city, it seemed uptight by the Eastern Shore’s
standards.

She could get used to it here.

“Did you tell your parents you’re leaving
yet?” Her throat pinched at the thought, and she poured more creamer into her
coffee to distract herself.

Jack nodded. “It’ll be harder to say
good-bye than usual. I’ve been able to spend so many weekends and holidays
visiting them and my sisters. I’ve gotten kind of used to it. One’s got a baby
due in July. Did I tell you that already?”

Smiling, Maeve nodded. Several times,
actually, she thought. But she didn’t tell him that. It was cute to see him so
excited about having another nephew coming his way.

“I really hoped I’d be around for the
birth this time.” His eyes were distant, as though he was counting how many
significant moments of his family’s lives he had missed while away.

She reached for his hand, and again was
struck by how complete she felt when her clasp had joined with his. “I’m
sorry.”

Frowning, Jack withdrew his hand. “No big
deal. You get used to it.”

Liar.

“At least I’ll be around for Mick’s
wedding. I haven’t been best man for years. Am I still supposed to drag him out
to a strip bar and get him drunk the night before?”

“I think that’s optional. But Lacey would
prefer you didn’t.”

“So would Mick. He’s all control. It’s
hard enough getting him to have two beers.”

“You’re pretty controlled yourself.”

He eyed her a moment and then gently
touched his finger to her chin. “With you, I have to be, don’t I? How’s the job
search going?” He changed the subject without missing a beat.

Maeve traced her thumb along the rim of
her mug. “Pretty scary, actually. I called just about everyone I know in the
business and no one is hiring. They’re all just struggling to find clients
right now. But at least I put the word out.”

“Well, I had an idea.” Jack lifted his
hand as Maeve opened her mouth. “And don’t shut me down till you’ve heard it
all, okay?”

“Okay,” Maeve replied tentatively.

“You know how you said my decorating
skills were hopeless?”

“I didn’t mean anything insulting about
it, though.”

“No, no. I didn’t take it that way. We
Navy guys just don’t have any practice on how to settle in and make a place
look nice. We move too much. And families have it even worse sometimes because
they’re trying to do it all while juggling kids.” He took a sip of his orange
juice. “So how would you feel about offering your design services for free to a
few Navy people? You can sort of dress up their places with the stuff they
have, maybe a few items they can afford to buy, too, on a tight budget. We take
some pictures of it all and then you can write about it on your blog.”

“I don’t have a blog.”

“You need a blog. And it will have a
special tab just for your Navy makeovers. We’ll call that section something
catchy like ‘Dress my PCS’ or something like that. You know—like a
take-off of all those ‘Dress-My-This-And-That’ shows.”

Maeve couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Dress
my PCS? That’s actually funny. You’re pretty creative for someone who aced
nuclear physics.”

“Actually Bess came up with it. We’ve
been—spending some time together.”

Spending some time together? What was
that supposed to mean? Maeve edged out the childish jealousy that seemed to
creep into her stomach. She tried to sound unaffected. “But most people don’t
even know what a PCS is.”

“Details, details. We’ll think of
something better then.” He chugged the last of his orange juice. “You help out Navy
people like that and you’ll get publicity. I guarantee it. You live in a Navy
town. Word will get out and one of these local magazines will want to write an
article about you. And the blog will link to your website.”

“I don’t have a website.”

Jack reached for the pepper. “You will by
the end of the day.”

“
What
?”

He shrugged. “Bess and I have been
working on something together. One of her clients is a graphic designer who whipped
up a logo for you in exchange for some free housecleaning from Bess. Bess is finishing
the website today.”

While the cat’s away…
Maeve struggled not to burst into
protest. “Jack, I’m really not comfortable with this.”

Jack held up his hands. “We won’t publish
it till we get your approval, of course. But we just wanted to show you what
was possible.”

Maeve didn’t know whether to kiss him or
shake him senseless. Her eyes drifted to his lips and she realized which she’d
prefer. She swallowed and leaned her chin on her hand. “I wish you guys
wouldn’t have done that. I really don’t think I have it in me to be self-employed.
I’m too—I don’t know.”

“Risk adverse?”

“Well, yeah.”

“How about this? You just try it out a
little while you’re still looking for a regular job. It’s not like you have an
offer yet, right?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“So it’s not like you’re wasting time. Keep
sending out your résumé, and if a job offer comes, great. But in the meantime, there’s
nothing wrong with passing out a few business cards of your own company.”

My own company.
“I don’t have business cards.”

Jack reached into his pocket. “Actually,
you do.” He plunked a card down in front of her.

Her hands nearly were numb as she lifted
it. Maeve Fischer Designs, it read, with her contact information beneath. It
was simple and clean with a sleek graphic above her name that looked
reminiscent of waves on the Bay. She traced her finger over the raised print
and the shiny spot gloss over the logo.

“Do you like it?”

Maeve just stared, speechless.

Jack put his fork down. “Crap. You don’t
like it?”

Almost embarrassed to see goose bumps
popping out on her arms, Maeve blinked several times. “I love it.”

Noticeably relieved, Jack lifted his fork
and took another bite of his omelet. “Thank God. Because I’ve got 499 more at
home. So will you give it a try?”

“Why are you doing all this for me,
Jack?”

Eyes locked on hers, Jack remained silent
for a few beats, and then shook his head. “You’re always the one doing things
for all of us. Hell, I’m at your place as much as I am mine. But it goes both
ways, Maeve. You need to let us do things to help you, too.”

It should be so easy. But if she accepted
his kindness, she felt her heart would get lost to him forever.

Thoughtfully, she looked out the window
as the sun’s reflection laid out an impressive tangerine carpet along the
water. Daybreak was so beautiful, and she rarely had time to enjoy it, stuck in
traffic on the way to work every morning.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself
to imagine beginning her work day at home, sipping her coffee on the back deck
with her laptop in front of her, watching the sunrise. Oh, she could get
creative in an atmosphere like that. “Okay,” she murmured, almost afraid to say
the word aloud.

Jack almost looked shocked. “You’ll try
it?”

Maeve smiled. “I’ll try it.” She looked
at Jack, and dared to touch her hand to his cheek. The subtle heat from his skin
penetrated her, not in the fiery way to which she was accustomed, but with a
comforting warmth that seemed to strengthen her. “And thanks, Jack.”

He took her hand in his and lightly
kissed the underside of her palm, and then quickly set her hand down on the
cold table.

Maeve reverently touched the massive box
that lay safe in the top of her walk-in closet.

Lacey peered past her. “What is it?”

After carefully pulling it from the shelf,
she set it down on her bed and lifted the top. A smile touched her lips at the
sight of delicate Irish lace, perfectly preserved, still a rich, clean cream
barely showing signs of age.

Lacey drew in a breath. “Is that your
grandmother’s gown?”

“Mmhm.”

 “Oh, Maeve, it’s beautiful.”

“They just don’t make gowns like this
anymore,” Maeve agreed, holding it up to her friend.

“I’m almost afraid to touch it.”

“It’s in great shape. It won’t rip.” She
guided her friend to the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door.

Lacey stared into the mirror. “I love it.”

“It’s a little old-fashioned. But it
would work, especially if we take down the neckline. It’s simple and
classic—perfect for a backyard wedding. You can wear it, if you want.”

“I couldn’t.”

 “Sure you could. Do you know how
happy that would have made Gram?” She moved to stand along Lacey, gazing at her
friend’s radiant reflection. What a beautiful bride, Maeve thought, and imagined
Lacey taking Mick’s hand at the front of a long carpet blanketed with rose
petals, framed by an arbor dripping in flowers.

Letting Lacey borrow Gram’s dress hadn’t
been part of the plan. But after shopping with Lacey for wedding gowns
unsuccessfully three times, Maeve was getting a little desperate.

Her eyes still fastened on her own image,
Lacey looked wistful. “I’ll bet you looked beautiful in this dress, Maeve.”

“I did—when I was nine years old
and playing dress up,” Maeve laughed.

“You didn’t wear this when you got
married?”

Maeve sat on the bed. “No. I wanted to. But
my mom wanted a big Southern nightmare of a wedding. I had to wear this huge
dress and a birdcage veil. I even had a parasol, though I refused to use it
except in the pictures. I looked like I was in a Civil War reenactment.”

Lacey turned. “Maeve, I shouldn’t be the
one to wear this gown. You should. Geez, it looks like it was made for you. You
probably wouldn’t even have to take it in.”

Maeve actually snorted. “I’m not getting
married again. Believe me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“Why not?”

“Been there. Done that. Got the t-shirt.”
Maeve sighed at the sight of Lacey’s disbelief, and sank backwards onto her
pillows. “Besides, the men I date aren’t looking to settle down with someone
like me.”

Lacey smirked. “Maybe you should stop
dating younger men.”

“That’s harsh.”

“I’m serious though. Try dating someone
who is on the same page as you are.” Lacey shared a conspiratorial grin with
her friend. “Still going on that date with Captain Shey?”

Maeve smiled coyly. “How many girls get
to go on a date with a SEAL CO? ’Course I’m still going.”

“Mick nearly burst an artery when I told
him. You, dating his CO.”

“Former CO. It’s just dinner. It probably
won’t turn into anything else.”

“Does Jack know?”

“Why would I tell him?”

Lacey shrugged, and took another look at
herself in the mirror. “This is gorgeous, Maeve.”

“So wear it. Nothing would make me
happier.” She rose and took her friend’s hand as they gazed at the dress in the
mirror. “Gram had a timeless style about her, didn’t she? So? What do you
think?”

 “I think,” she began, stopping to carefully
hand Maeve the dress, “that you are the best friend I could ever ask for. But
everything in me says that this dress is meant to be worn by you next.”

“Lacey—”

“First your grandma, then you. I’m not
convinced you won’t have a second chance at marriage, Maeve.”

Puffing out her cheeks, Maeve let out a breath.
“Okay then. Guess we’re stuck going shopping again. But you better actually buy
something this time. The clock’s ticking.” Frowning, she put the dress back in
the box. If Lacey had her way, she’d get married in jeans and her flip-flops.

There was a light tap on the open door.

“Bess, I didn’t know you were home
already.”

“I left early. Remind me to never go to
one of those community playgroups again.”

“Oh, no,” Lacey said. “Did Abby not get
along with the other kids?”

“More like I didn’t get along with the
other mothers.” Bess flopped onto the bed with a stack of the day’s mail on her
lap. “Oh, they were like vultures and I was the prey. First, one catches wind
that Abby hasn’t said her first word yet. And she’s like, ‘Oh, aren’t you
worried? She should be saying something by now. My baby was saying three word
sentences by that age.’”

Maeve’s lip curled. “Ugh. The
mom-competition begins. That’s just the beginning, I hear. Next she’ll tell you
that her precious child is learning quantum physics and reciting Shakespeare.”

“And the doctor told you not to worry
about it yet. So don’t worry about it,” Lacey reminded her.

“Yeah, and I told her that. But then
she’s got about six other moms in on the conversation, and together they had
Abby diagnosed with at least six different things. My blood pressure’s never
been so high in my life.” Bess threw her head back into the pillows. “And then
they asked about my husband, so I had to tell them I’m single.” Her laugh was
almost maniacal. “And then, the shining climax was when they asked me what I
did for a living.”

Maeve sat beside her, knowing what was
coming. “And you told them you clean houses.”

Bess nodded. “Next time I’ll just lie,
because honestly, my half of the room cleared out like I had the plague.”

“Bitches.”

“Every last one of them.” Bess paused.
“Except one seemed nice. I didn’t talk to her much, but Abby seemed to like
playing with her baby boy. We talked a little, and she actually gave me her
number so we can get the kids together again. She didn’t seem repulsed by the
scarlet A embroidered on my chest.”

Maeve laughed. “So it sounds worth it.”

“I guess, yeah. It sure wore Abby out,
too. She was out like a light the moment I set her down in the crib.” Bess held
up three cards, one with an open envelope. “Oh. And these came in the mail
today.”

 “What are those?”

“Mine’s an invitation, so I’m guessing
yours are, too. Some kind of award ceremony for Jack. Did you guys know
anything about this?”

Lacey eagerly snatched hers from Bess,
and ripped open the envelope. “Mick mentioned it to me.” She glanced down at
the card. “Cool.”

Curious, Maeve opened hers. “What’s he
getting an award for?”

Lacey shrugged. “I asked Mick and he said
if he told me, he’d have to kill me.”

“Always a nice answer from your fiancé.”

“Seriously though, all I know is that he
saved a couple guys on his last mission. Mick told me it was something for
NATO. That’s why he got picked for this next job.”

Bess looked quizzical. “All this time, I
thought he was a teacher.”

Maeve frowned. “Didn’t we all? Seems our
egghead is leading a second life.”

Bess sat up on the bed with a girlish
giggle. “Well, with a bod like that, I should have guessed. So, we’re all
going?”

“Of course. Mick says this is huge. Most
of the brigade will be in attendance. A four-star is presenting it to him.”

Bess groaned. “Aw, man. Do I have to buy
a dress?”

Lacey shook her head. “Nothing special. Just
wear something you have.”

“What I
have
are five sets of
sweats.”

Maeve moved to her closet. “What you
have
is half my net worth in clothing to choose from. Better use it now before I
have to sell it all on eBay to pay the electric bill.”

Bess cocked her head at Maeve. “I’m
hardly your size. I’ll never fit in anything of yours.”

Maeve dug deeper into her closet and
pulled out a dress. “Honey, I’ve been every size in the book.” Just looking at
the sundress reminded her of cancer treatment. The weight loss, the weight
gain. The weight loss again. No wonder she was so damn tired.

Bess’s eyes lit. “Ohh, that’s pretty,
Maeve.”

“A few years old, but it still is nice
enough, isn’t it? I’m glad I never throw anything away. Try it on and see if it
fits.” She tossed it to her as Bess peeled off her clothes.

“I have earrings that match it.” She
opened up her jewelry box, and received the usual appreciative “ooooh” from her
housemates, as though opening the elegant wooden box was a magical experience.
Between the pieces that had been passed down from her grandmother and her own lavish
taste in gems, the contents of Maeve’s jewelry box were impressive.

Lacey stepped over. “I love it when you
start handing out jewelry. Can I borrow something, too?”

“Of course.” She dug inside the box, and
pulled out a simple chain of gold with a sapphire charm, surrounded by tiny
diamonds. “How about this necklace with that blue dress you have? Bet that
would be appropriate for an awards ceremony.”

“Or maybe—” Looking like a kid in a
candy store, Lacey dared to venture into the box herself. “Hey what’s this?” She
pulled out a Navy medal. “Was this your grandfather’s?”

Maeve shook her head. “No. He wasn’t in
the armed forces. I never saw it till after Gram died, so I never could ask
her. But I could picture her falling in love with some Navy officer when she
was young. She lived in Pensacola for a while, before she met Grandpa.”

Bess reached for the ribboned insignia. “National
Defense Service Medal,” she read. “Maybe she lost him in the war. She must have
really loved him to keep it, even though she married your grandfather.”

“War sucks,” Lacey said, the statement
stronger now that she was marrying someone in the military. “That’s so sad.”

“It is,” Maeve agreed, even though the
thought of Gram ever loving a man other than her grandfather somehow unsettled
her. She glanced at it, still in Bess’s hand. Some loves weren’t meant to be,
she supposed. “But if it had worked out for them, I wouldn’t be here.” Sighing,
she reached back into her jewelry box. “Oh, hey. How about this, Lacey? It goes
with that yellow dress.” She handed Lacey a necklace and gestured to her
closet.

Bess spied a silk dress in Maeve’s closet
that still had the tags. “Ooh. Nice.” She fingered the imported silk. “When did
you get this?”

“Right before I quit. Borrow anything you
like, but not that. I’m returning it next time I get into Baltimore.”

Lacey pulled out a yellow sheath and held
it up to herself. “I like this. So sunny looking.” She glanced at Maeve. “What
am I going to do living 2700 miles away from you guys?”

Maeve scoffed, “Well, you’ll have to go
shopping, for one thing.”

“I’m serious. And what about when he
deploys?” Lacey’s eyes welled up.

Maeve gave her a squeeze. “You’ll hop on
a plane in the morning and be here in time to help Bess make dinner.”

Edging up to the other side of Lacey,
Bess rested her arm on her shoulders. “Maeve’s right. It takes longer to fix a
shoulder roast in a slow cooker than it does to fly back here. So if you get
lonely, that’s what you do.”

Maeve darted a look to Bess. “Speaking of
food, have you found a caterer yet?”

“Not one. Everyone is booked up in June.”
Stretching out on the bed again, Bess sulked. “I even called a chain down by
the mall just to see if they could do it—you know, that barbeque place?”

“We are
not
serving barbeque at a
wedding. Lacey will have sauce all over her dress. I can picture everyone
hugging her with sticky fingers.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about it
because even they are booked. We might have a better chance if we changed the
wedding to a Sunday.”

“But we already sent out invitations.”

“Right.” Bess rolled over and propped her
head up on her forearms. “I found one place. Can’t find any reviews online for
them. But I called three of their references, and they checked out.” She
shrugged. “Who knows though? I might have been calling their friends and
family. I’d feel better if they had catered for someone I knew.”

“What kind of food?”

“Run of the mill. Chicken, fish, the
usual wedding fare.”

Maeve frowned. “Doesn’t sound too
promising.”

Lacey gave a light wave of her hands. “They
sound good enough.”

“Coming from someone who wanted a City
Hall wedding, that’s not saying much.”

Lacey smiled. “If I have Mick there, and
you guys and my sister, that’s all I need. The rest is icing on the cake.”

“Cake!” Bess suddenly bolted upward. “Is
anyone checking into a cake yet?”