Brianna's Navy SEAL Page 4

  "A taste of suburbia, you mean?” Brie stacked oaktag scraps on top of a cabinet, then picked up stray crayons and tossed them into a bin.

  "Something like that. This place where everyone feels safe. Where the most important things on the worry list are who's building what on the corner of Lexington and Boston Road."

  Brianna stopped moving. “Someone's building something on the corner of Lexington and Boston Road?"

  He nodded. “Looks that way. Traffic got held up by a backhoe, and they had a parcel of land on the north corner marked off."

  "Shit."

  "What's the matter?"

  She shook her head. “McDonald's. She's building her McDonald's. Which means she's staying.” She actually stomped her foot, then grimaced when he laughed at her. “Sorry. Old family business. You were saying, about us feeling safe."

  "Yeah, well, we all have this ideal in our heads of what we're fighting for. It helps when you start thinking about how likely you are to die in the next sixty seconds. And most guys don't get to live it. They're career Navy, or they go into the private sector doing the same things, or they wind up in back alleys and VA rehab. It just showed me how lucky I am, that's all.” He leaned his weight against the shelf running under the wall of windows and watched Brie glance around for anything she'd missed. Then she turned speculative eyes on him, her mouth curved in a knowing smile.

  "You're not the only one, Cable Addison."

  "No?” He unfolded his arms and rested the heels of his hands on the counter next to him. “Who else is lucky?"

  Her eyes definitely said, I am, but her mouth started listing the school, the town, her family, and she backed away. He ignored the urge to grab her hand and pull her into his arms. They had to be careful on school property. He still had enough wary parents that he didn't want to stir up anything else. But at home was a different story.

  "How's your groin pull?” he asked, suddenly realizing he hadn't asked at dinner Sunday.

  "Fine.” She blushed and avoided his gaze while she filled a soft tote bag with papers and her lesson plan and myriad other things from her tiny desk. “Just a twinge now and then."

  "The club you go to, it's the one up the hill?” He knew it was, he'd seen her coming out one night and had immediately considered joining. He'd checked the place out and it had the equipment he liked, a broader range of free weights and machines than he had in his basement, and he liked the versatility that gave him. He may not need to be in top condition anymore, but he didn't intend to get lazy, either. Brianna's membership was double incentive.

  When she nodded, he said, “Mind if I run over with you tonight? I joined the other day but haven't started working out over there yet."

  And thus began phase one of their courtship, one Cable felt proud of as they slowly incorporated their day-to-day activities into each other's lives. He joined her at the club a few days a week, and she started going to the café before work once in a while. They carpooled to school on days neither one had committee work that held them late, and once a week they went to the single-screen theater in town for the latest movie that had been out everywhere else for two months.

  It didn't take long for Brianna to be so comfortable with their slow build that she became uncomfortable with it. Cable seemed firmly entrenched in the small town mythology, but he still talked about his days as a SEAL with a wistfulness that worried her. What if he started missing these guys he talked about, Gunner and Jupiter and Moscow? She kept reminding herself that he was only here for one school year, that he'd rented his little house from an older man who was “trying” Arizona and could come back any time, that his family lived far away. All reasons he could decide Brook Hollow wasn't enough for him.

  That Brianna wasn't enough for him.

  She was trying to decide if she should be worried that he'd canceled their movie date this week, when she pushed through the front door of Ken's office a few blocks from downtown.

  "Hey, sweetie.” Ken's secretary, Lucy, flashed a grin from behind her desk. Most of it hid behind her round cheeks and double chin, but coupled with her Southern charm and sincerity, it could pull anyone out of a funk.

  "Hey, Luce. Is Ken here? He said he had some accounts for me to pick up."

  "He's here, babydoll, but he's tied up on the phone with Mr. Carhurst. You know how he is.” She winced as Ken's voice became audible behind his closed door. “I wish the old dear would just get those hearing aids, and then he wouldn't think Ken told him he could pay his quarterly estimates once a year.” She shook her head and went back to stuffing fliers in envelopes for Ken's semi-annual mailing. Brianna recognized the design, which never changed.

  She sighed and glanced around the cluttered office. File folders full of God-knew-what piled on every available surface. Drawers of the six tall filing cabinets refused to close, and in one case he'd shoved a block of wood under the front of it to keep the whole thing from tipping forward and dumping its load all over the floor. The manila contrasted with the dark half-paneling that surrounded the room and matched the yellowed white paint on the upper halves of the walls. The place looked the same as it had ten years ago, and maybe much, much longer. Ken had inherited the business from his father, and Brianna was still amazed whenever he managed to find something that had been stuck in a drawer thirty years ago.

  Ken yelled again, and Brie glanced at her watch. “Do you know what accounts he wanted—"

  The office door opened before she could finish, and Ken trotted out, running his hand over his forehead and adjusting his glasses.

  "Whew. He was adamant that time. I wish he'd get those darned hearing aids.” He spotted Brie and suddenly seemed to get flustered. “Ah, Brianna, yes, thanks, thanks for coming over. I didn't expect you quite so quickly. Go in, go in, I'll be right there with the accounts."

  She sighed but went ahead into the office while he headed for the water cooler next to Lucy's desk. She plopped down on the faux leather chair in front of his desk and dropped her bag on the floor. Ken was not a point-oriented man. He'd flutter and ramble about, beating around a hundred bushes before he got to what he needed. Sometimes she managed to come in and get out quickly, but she could tell this would not be one of those times.

  "So, Brianna. How are you?” He closed the door and circled the metal desk.

  Brianna sat up, surprised. He never closed his door. Ramble and beat around the bush as he may, he usually operated under a pretense of expecting to get things done quickly.

  But not only had he closed the door, he really seemed to want an answer to his question.

  "I'm fine, Ken, thanks for asking. How ... are you?” After five years of working with him, this felt strange. She'd answered his ad for part time bookkeeping to get some extra money for Christmas the year her car had died and she'd had to invest in the Jetta, and never saw any reason to stop. They were friendly, more like colleagues than boss and employee, but she couldn't remember Ken ever starting a conversation like this.

  "Good. I'm fine, as well.” He stood behind the desk and fidgeted with some papers. “Ah, I was wondering, if you'd, ah, like to go to the seven o'clock showing tonight. With me. If you're not busy.” He abruptly stopped talking, then tilted his head to look at her without really lifting his face.

  Brianna stared, frozen. He was ... asking her for a date? After five years? And he was—well, okay, not ancient, but much older than she was. Wasn't he? She tried to look at him differently, but couldn't see anything she hadn't seen before. He was balding, which didn't matter to her at all. He wore glasses, but that didn't matter, either. Those things didn't make him unattractive. The polyester pants and short-sleeved, plaid button-down shirts kinda did, and the way he walked with his shoulders hunched, and his semi-greenish pallor that always made him look like he was under florescent lighting, even outside.

  For a second, the idea of dating him was so preposterous, she couldn't say a word. Then the guilt for thinking it was preposterous kept her mouth closed. Finally, when he st
arted fidgeting again and opened his mouth, she found her voice.

  "I'm sorry, Ken, I have plans.” It wouldn't be prudent to remember that they'd been canceled, she told herself, trying to be as clear but as nice as she could be to prevent him from asking again. “I'm not sure what your intentions are.” She cringed over the word, but he didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with it. “But I'm seeing someone."

  "Oh.” He scowled, then erased all expression from his face. “Okay, then. Here's the Judson account.” He handed her a pile of bulging folders held together by rubber bands. “And the Knightwood file.” Another, similar pile. “They both want the figures for September ASAP, so..."

  "I'll get them done quickly,” she assured him, tucking them into her bag and rising. “And, thanks. For the invitation. I'm sorry.” She was going to say more but thought better of it. Ken waved her off and she left, wondering what on earth had prompted that and hoping feverishly that it was the end.

  * * * *

  "Brianna? Brianna!"

  She started, shocked to find the entire country club ball committee staring at her. She'd been daydreaming in the middle of a planning meeting. Mortified, she mumbled an apology. The organizer who'd yelled her name scowled.

  "Are you or are you not going to serve on the decorations committee for the holiday ball?"

  "Uh, yes. Sure.” She scribbled a note on her pad. She'd been on the committee for the past two years and had decided to do something else, but wasn't about to speak up now. Curse Cable Addison. She glanced across the room and back a row. He'd come in after she and Kira had, so they hadn't sat together. But he was watching her, and winked.

  "So that's Brianna Macgregor, Darcy Langlais, Ken Salzer, and Cable Addison."

  "What?” She pulled herself up from her slouch and stared at the organizer. He didn't hear her and went on to the next item on his list. “What did he just say?"

  "You shouldn't agree to do this stuff if it's going to bore you to sleep,” Kira whispered next to her.

  "I wasn't sleeping,” Brie muttered.

  "I know, you were thinking about Ca-ble.” She sing-songed his name. “It's been two whole months and you're still moony!"

  Brianna ignored her, still distracted by the names on her committee. Cable was great, but things had been awkward around Ken ever since she turned him down the first time he asked her for a date. And the second time. And the third. She kept telling him she was dating someone, and he kept saying it didn't look exclusive to him. Working with him and Cable would be bad enough. But no way did she want to work with Darcy, for God's sake. The woman was evil. She scanned the room but couldn't see her. She'd been in the health club that day she pulled her thigh, and Brianna remembered she'd made some remark about what military men wanted. Had she set her sights on Cable?

  She glanced at him again, but he was listening to Jake now. Her brother-in-law didn't oversee the ball anymore, but he'd done it so long everyone still acted like he did. She sighed and accepted her fate. It wasn't like she hadn't worked with people she didn't like before. That was part of a teacher's job description.

  Luckily, her distraction had deterred Kira, too. She didn't want to talk about Cable with her sister. The truth was, she had no idea where things were going. They had dinner together every few nights, and they talked at school and went to the movies. Cable had become a fixture at Sunday dinner at her parents’ house, and they always took a walk to the coffee shop afterward, sometimes alone, sometimes with members of her family. They got along great, never ran out of things to talk about, and agreed on most of the important stuff. The things they didn't agree about, they either had excellent discussions or knew instinctively when to stop talking.

  There were two problems. First, Cable wasn't letting things go any further. He was an incredible kisser, but the harder Brianna tried to take it to the next level, the more resistant he seemed. She had no idea why.

  The other problem was that the more time they spent together, the more Brianna fell for him, and the more she fell for him, the more convinced she was that he was a mistake and she should break it off. He was retired from the military, but the things that had compelled him to it in the first place were still there. She could see the feverish light in his eyes when he talked about those things. She'd seen it herself in the mirror, especially last year. Until Andrew had been killed, and the light had died.

  When the meeting broke up, half a dozen people surrounded both Jake and Cable. Kira had driven separately and Brie had ridden with her, so they waved at the men and headed out to Kira's truck.

  "So you guys are getting pretty serious, huh?” Kira snugged her parka tighter up around her neck and pulled her keys from her pocket. “And please zip that jacket."

  "I'm not cold."

  "It's thirty degrees out. Zip it."

  "Yes, Mom.” But they were at the car so she didn't bother, ignoring Kira's look.

  "So?” Kira asked again, starting the car. “Serious?"

  "I don't know. I think it could be.” She shook her head.

  "But what? What's missing?"

  "It's not what's missing, exactly.” She dropped her head against the back of the seat as Kira turned the corner of her street. “He's going slow. Which is unusual, but fine. I just ... can't see how it can last."

  "He doesn't want to settle down?” Kira speculated. “He seems like the kind of guy who's ready for a family."

  "That doesn't matter to me. Really,” she added when her sister snorted. “I'm happy with my life. I'm independent, but I have a great family. I have my kids at school, who fulfill all my maternal urges and then some. Cable's like the icing.” But even she could hear the skepticism in her voice.

  "So? What possible obstacle could there be?” Kira sounded testy, and Brianna understood. She'd gone through hell trying to get Jake, and in comparison, Brie's relationship with Cable must seem like a home run.

  "He's what I used to be,” she admitted. “Two years ago, I would have been ecstatic at my real-life adventure hero. But I'm over that, and of course that's when I get it."

  Kira pulled to the curb in front of Brianna's house, and she automatically looked across the street. Of course he wasn't home yet. They'd left before him.

  "He left that life,” Kira reminded her. “He's a teacher."

  "Yeah, in a temporary job.” She met her sister's eyes and saw understanding there. “What happens when Dina comes back and he can't get another job in the district? Or what if one of his old buddies starts a security firm or something, and Cable runs off to join?"

  As understanding as Kira had looked a moment ago, she looked impatient now. “You can't live on what-ifs, Brie. So if he does, you join him. You go live the life of adventure you always said you wanted."

  Fear leaped into Brianna's throat at the very idea. It wasn't so much fear of the future as remembered terror. She could hear the crunching of the boats, the hiss of the harpoon being shot from its gun. Smell the blood that overpowered the fishy salt air. The car rocked, just like the boat had.

  She gripped the handle of the door she'd just opened and inhaled, hard, and held it. Her vision cleared, and she let it out in a whoosh, then turned to see Kira's alarmed face. Shit.

  "What was that?"

  "Ah, minor anxiety attack, I think. Don't worry, I'm taking medication for it.” She paused with one foot out the door. “Don't tell Mom, okay?"

  "Bullshit.” Kira grabbed her arm. “What the hell? Last summer,” she shot out before Brie could answer. “Something happened last summer, didn't it? Don't look at me like that, I'm your sister, and it was pretty obvious when you came home. We agreed to let you tell us when you were ready, but you never were.” Her grip tightened, and Brie was afraid she wouldn't let her leave until she'd told her the whole horrible story. “What happened to you, hon?"

  Brianna shook her head and looked away. “Nothing happened to me. I was just—well, part of it.” Responsible for it.

  After a moment, Kira's grip slowly relaxe
d. “Let me know if you ever need someone to talk to.” She revved the engine, and Brianna slowly climbed out of the truck, kind of surprised that she was leaving it at that.

  "I will,” she finally agreed, and shut the door. But she really had no intention of admitting to anyone what she had done.

  CHAPTER 4

  Brianna yawned as she poured her second cup of coffee while the kids were in PE. Cable joined her a moment later, taking the pot out of her hand and filling his own mug. He stood close, much closer than teachers usually stood, but not inappropriately so.

  "Morning. Sleep okay?"

  Brie scowled and reached for the creamer. “Do I look like I slept okay?” She narrowed her eyes at him. He looked as fresh and alert as always, though why he shouldn't, she didn't know. Except she'd had nightmares all night, and misery wanted company, that was all.

  "So you volunteered for the decorations committee, of all things?” she asked, covering her mouth in another yawn. They left the lounge and started walking back to their classrooms.

  "Not exactly.” He shot her a glance. “Weren't you paying attention?"

  "Not exactly.” She grinned sheepishly. “So how'd you get roped into it?"

  He shrugged, his knit shirt pulling against his shoulders, distracting her. She shook her head hard, once, and focused on what he was saying.

  "I have no idea who she is, but she reminds me of Texas."

  Brie groaned. “Darcy Langlais. Gotta be. What, she volunteered to chair the committee?"

  "Yeah, and suggested me."

  "You could have said no.” She frowned at her mug, which was starting to slosh, and slowed her steps.

  "She didn't give me a chance. Everyone looked eager to hear me say yes, and then they all looked at you, and that scrawny balding guy—"

  "Ken Salzer."

  "Yeah, Ken. I met him in the coffee shop the other day. Weird. Anyway, he kind of bounced and said he'd be on the committee, and that you would be, too, and that's when they woke you up."

  "I wasn't sleeping,” she muttered, just like she had to Kira the night before. “I was just distracted."