 
### She needs his protection almost as much as she needs his heart...

Attorney Rebecca Mayes has already endured more than her share of tragedy. After her husband was killed in an accident, she'd do anything to shield herself from more heartache. Her success in the courtroom has not come without costs though. The disgruntled ex-husband of a client is seeking revenge—and his sights are set on Rebecca.

Navy SEAL Patrick "Ice" Foster vowed never to be in a relationship again. The gorgeous brunette he meets on the beach isn't going to change his mind—no matter how tempting her feminine curves, innocent glances, and fierce independence may be.

Despite their determination never to fall in love, Rebecca and Patrick can't deny the connection between them. When danger lurks around every corner, she knows there's only one man she can trust to protect both her and her daughter. But who will protect her from a broken heart?

SEAL the Deal, a stand-alone novel, is book one in the bestselling Alpha SEALs series.

# SEAL the Deal

AN ALPHA SEALS NOVEL

# Makenna Jameison

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Makenna Jameison.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

# Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

SEALED with a Kiss Excerpt

About the Author

#  Chapter 1

Patrick "Ice" Foster hauled his sixty-pound rucksack onto his back and sauntered down the ramp of the C-17 military cargo plane, boots and fatigues dusty from his SEAL team's week-long deployment to Afghanistan. He felt tired, his muscles stiff and sore, and dirty from the sweat and grime coating his skin. Nothing would feel better right now than a hot shower and a solid twelve hours sleeping in his own bed.

Hell, after a week of pitching a tent in the desert and barely sleeping five hours a night, he'd gladly crash on his living room floor.

He glanced down at the nasty stab wound on his forearm, sewn neatly shut with nine stitches. Compared to other injuries he'd gotten over the years as a SEAL, this was nothing but a scratch.

Another member of his team, Mike "Patch" Hunter, had stitched him up in the field after they'd battled with insurgents. Patrick and his men had conducted a raid on an enemy compound, rescuing an American soldier being held hostage, and had slipped back into the night in their Black Hawk as quickly as they'd arrived.

After tracking the enemies' movements for four days, last night they'd completed their mission and gotten their man. And luck didn't have a damn thing to do with it. Patrick's SEAL team was among the best of the best. His men trained together daily and fought as one in battle. They were his brothers, and he'd lay down his life for any one of them, just as they'd do for him.

"Are you meeting us at Anchors tomorrow, Ice?" Christopher "Blade" Walters asked as he caught up to Patrick.

"Maybe," he commented noncommittally as the two men fell in step beside one another.

"You should—we missed your sorry ass last time."

"Needed my help picking up women?"

"In your dreams. More like fighting them off."

Patrick smirked. A local bar near their base in Little Creek, Virginia, Anchors was a popular hangout frequented by the locals and military members alike. It was always packed with SEALs looking to unwind and local women intent on taking one home for the night. And vice versa.

Not that Patrick had complained about that in his younger days, but at thirty-five, and as one of the older members on his team, he didn't hang out there much anymore. Nor did he have the time to, but it was a tradition for the six guys on his SEAL team to go there the day after they'd returned from a deployment to have a few beers and decompress.

"Although I am hoping to avoid that cute little blonde I met last time. She was way too clingy."

Patrick raised his eyebrows.

"I took her home for the night, and she stuck around all morning. I finally had to convince her we had training that day. Even put on my PT gear before I escorted her out my front door."

"You're such a charmer."

"I do what I can. And don't get me wrong—she was a tiger in bed."

"That's exactly why I avoid the place."

"The blonde?"

"The women."

Patrick had met his ex-wife at Anchors years ago. He'd thought he was hot as shit back then, nothing but six-foot-three inches of solid muscle with the ability to easily attract all the ladies within a fifty-foot radius.

The other guys had joked they were glad that he was off the market when he'd proposed to his ex. He'd never had trouble finding a woman to take home in the past and had enjoyed more than his fair share of the ladies over the years. Something about his ex-wife had drawn him in though, in a way no one else ever had before. She was open, sweet, and caring—the exact opposite of his own calm, cool, and collected demeanor.

Patrick had earned the nickname "Ice" in BUD/S, Basic Underwater Demolition/SEALS training, for that very reason—he was completely calm, as cold as ice, no matter what situation was thrown at them.

And they'd dealt with a lot. That instinct to keep a level head had been honed over years on the battlefield and deployments to hell holes all over the planet. Between those experiences and what he'd gone through with his ex, nothing could faze him now.

She'd announced that she was leaving him when he'd returned from his second deployment, a two-week tour of hell in the jungles of South America. The other men on his team were all single, and Patrick thought he was the lucky one, having a woman to come home to. A wife who supposedly loved him.

Fuck if he was wrong about everything. She couldn't handle the stress of not knowing where he was, how long he'd be gone, or if he'd even return. Plenty of those who served never did come back—or when they did, they weren't ever the same. War hardened a man, changed him, kept him on edge and completely alert even when he was back in his own bed. The women they left behind could never completely understand what they'd gone through.

One deployment was hard enough, but having to go through that shit again and again? She couldn't deal.

Patrick's first SEAL deployment had been difficult, but they'd talked afterward, and Patrick thought he'd left on good terms. That they'd work through it. Then after his second tour, she'd taken their young son and left, moving in with her parents the moment he returned.

He'd been shocked. Dealing with the break-up of his marriage had him feeling like his goddamn heart was being ripped out, but he was determined not to let a damn thing get to him afterward. He sure as hell wasn't about to let a woman ever do that to him again. He'd be just fine, thank you very much, living alone and seeing his son when he could. Maybe he'd enjoy the pleasure of a woman once in a while, but he sure as hell wouldn't ever let one into his heart again.

When she'd told him she had cancer last year and only had a few months left to live, that had sealed the deal, cementing his decision. No one should have to watch anyone they loved suffer that much—and he did still love her, despite their divorce. She was the mother of his child, the woman he'd pledged himself to honor and protect. Just like that, his world had crumbled apart once more.

Now her parents watched Logan when Patrick was deployed, and the rest of the time he devoted his life to his six-year-old son. He had no desire or need for a committed relationship again. No, his son, his SEAL team, and the occasional lady he found to go home with were more than enough to fulfill him.

Patrick took a deep breath as they walked off the C-17, inhaling the salty air that came from being near the water. Best thing about living here. Damn, if that didn't feel good after being in the dry, desert heat for a week.

It had been a short mission, but that didn't make it any less difficult to leave his son. He'd take his kid down to the ocean this weekend if the weather was good—soak in all that sun and salty sea air.

"Come on, that's never kept you away before. It's tradition," Christopher insisted.

"Fuck, yeah!" Mike shouted, catching up to them. "About time you join the rest of us for a night on the town again."

"We'll see," Patrick said. "I just got back—it's gonna be hard to leave the kid again."

"Kids sleep," Christopher commented. "Just come for a few hours."

"Agreed; that's not an excuse. How's the arm?" Mike asked.

"Good as new." He held it up for Mike to admire his handiwork.

"You picking up Logan tonight?" Christopher asked.

"Yeah. I'm gonna drop my gear off and shower first, but within the hour I'll be over at his grandparents' house."

"Sweet. That kid is growing like a weed. The last time I saw him he was throwing a damn good spiral."

"And Ice taught him that?" Mike joked.

Patrick had been all-American in high school football, but rather than take one of the many football scholarships that were offered to him, he'd joined the US Navy and become a SEAL. He'd felt it was his duty to serve and protect, and although he loved football, it didn't hold a candle to serving his nation.

September 11 had only furthered his resolve to make the military a lifelong career, and he hadn't looked back or regretted his decision once.

He'd seen a lot over the years, in warzones and deployments to other war-torn areas, proving just that much more how much guys like him—like any of the men on his SEAL team—were needed.

Patrick and his team had been wounded on numerous occasions but had successfully completed every mission they'd deployed on. They'd helped women and children who had nothing, protected those who needed someone to defend them, fought against men who were hell-bent on causing nothing but harm and destruction, and rescued Americans from situations others wouldn't imagine in their worst nightmares.

And not once had he wished for the cushy life of a professional athlete. Of the fame and glory that came with it. The SEAL's motto was, "The only easy day was yesterday," and that suited Patrick damn fine. He'd push himself every day to serve his country and protect others, and he expected nothing less from the other men on his team.

None of that meant he was about to take shit about his ball-playing days from his teammates. Patrick shot Mike a look that would've killed a lesser man, his cool blue eyes like ice.

"Easy," Mike joked. "I'm only kidding around with you about Logan because I plan to stay single for life. No wife or kids tying me down—and plenty of ladies to keep me company."

"I heard that!" Evan "Flip" Jenkins turned around and shouted from ahead of them. "You're gonna be a lonely old man some day, Hunter."

Mike laughed and flipped him the bird. "I just flipped off Flip. Get it?"

"Fuck you," Evan spat out good-naturedly.

"Is that how you got your name, Flip?" Mike joked, moving ahead to catch up with Evan and the other guys.

They were walking across the tarmac of the airstrip now, speeding up as they got closer to the hangar. An overnight flight on a military cargo plane was less than comfortable accommodations, and none of them could wait to get out of there, get cleaned up, and enjoy life back in the good ole U.S. of A.

"That kid can throw," Christopher continued as the others walked off ahead of them. Flip jokingly punched Mike in the arm, and the guys tussled back and forth a minute with the other two members of their team egging them on.

"Don't I know it," Patrick said with a rare laugh. "He's gonna play ball like his old man."

"Think he'll be a SEAL some day?"

"Hell if I know. The kid can do whatever he wants, and he'll have my full support."

"Are you turning soft on me, Ice?"

Patrick laughed, feeling lighter than he had all year. He'd pulled off another successful mission with his team, they'd rescued an American hostage, and he was about to see his kid. At the moment, life didn't get much better than that. Even his guys ribbing he could take, because they knew he'd throw it right back at them when the mood struck. They fought with each other like brothers sometimes, but when the shit hit the fan, he could count on each and every one of his men with his life.

He'd lay down his own life for them any day, their brotherhood forged on the battlefield and stronger than blood ties.

Save for his son, each of those men were the most important thing in his life. Patrick's duty to his country came first. He put his country and SEAL brothers before anything else, and nothing would ever change that.

#  Chapter 2

Rebecca Mayes finishing typing up notes on her computer the next afternoon, glancing down at the briefings stacked beside her. She'd just left the courthouse an hour ago, handling a difficult divorce proceeding and child custody agreement for her client, a young mother who had left her cheating husband. Now she was working on the case of a woman who'd decided to leave the man she'd married only months ago.

Rebecca inwardly groaned, wondering what on earth possessed anyone to get married anymore. Between cheating spouses, newlyweds who'd suddenly had a change-of-heart, and people going through a mid-life-crisis who suddenly decided they needed to sow their wild oats and leave their partner—did anyone even stay together? Her parents had been married for forty years, but that seemed a rarity in this day and age.

Rebecca and her own husband had been blissfully happy, despite her current distaste for marriage. They'd been married for five years with an adorable daughter and hopes for another child someday, their whole lives ahead of them. Their life together and small little family had been picture-perfect, right up until the day her husband was killed in a car crash on the bridge leading into Virginia Beach a year ago.

She still dreaded driving over that span of I-264 today, her hands shaking as they clutched the steering wheel. She was actually thankful when they got to the expanse of tunnel that connected each half of the bridge. Others might feel confined by the walls, the darkness, knowing the water surrounded them on all sides, but anything was better than the uncertainty of driving over the long bridge and chancing an accident, their car plunging into the water below.

Thank God she and Abby hadn't been in the car that day.

Their own lives had been spared by fate, but if they'd been in the accident and somehow survived, she knew she'd never be able to drive across any of the local bridges again. That really would have been life-altering, because as difficult as it had been to move on without her husband, she couldn't imagine ever moving away from her home. From Virginia Beach and the ocean.

The water soothed her, calming her mind, body, and soul in a way nothing else could. Long walks on the beach, both alone and with her daughter, were just about all that had gotten her through those first bitter months.

She'd been shell-shocked and angry, hurt, sad, and confused all at the same time. Eventually she'd come to terms with the fact that she'd never know the how or the why. It just was.

Little by little, as time had passed, she'd patched her broken heart. Maybe it wasn't fully healed, maybe it never would be again—but she'd held strong, both for herself and for her precious daughter.

The thought of meeting another man was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment, but she was young. If it happened, it happened, although the idea of even dating when she had a busy career and young child to juggle was almost comical.

"Do you need me to type up those documents now?" her legal assistant asked, poking her head into Rebecca's office and interrupting her wandering thoughts.

"Yes. I just finished compiling some notes from my meeting that I need you to review. I'll email them to you shortly, and then we can send the documents by courier this afternoon."

"Of course."

"Thanks," Rebecca said, returning to her work.

"Did you eat yet?"

Rebecca glanced up at her assistant. "No, I meant to grab a sandwich on my way back from the courthouse but got sidetracked. How about you?"

"I'm on my way to the café down the street. Want me to grab you a turkey on wheat?"

"That'd be great; I'm famished."

"All right. I'll be back in twenty."

Rebecca blew out a breath as her assistant left, her wispy bangs briefly rustled by the puff of air before they fell back to her forehead. She'd pulled her long brown hair back earlier at the courthouse but had tugged it free the moment she'd stepped back into her office so that soft sun-kissed brown waves fell around her shoulders. She felt she looked more professional with her hair pulled back—more professional and older.

Although she was thirty years old and had been out of law school for five years, she was frequently mistaken for a college student. Just last weekend some young college guys—kids, really—had starting hitting on her as she walked along the beach. They only backed off when they realized she was with the four-year-old girl running along beside her.

It certainly wasn't the first time some youngster had thought she lived the same carefree life that he did, and it likely wouldn't be the last. Not for a while at least.

Although looking young certainly had its advantages at times, a hearing at the courthouse in front of a judge while she faced off against another hard-edged lawyer was not one of them.

Rebecca glanced out the window of her office building, taking in the scenic view. The Atlantic Ocean sparkled in the distance, and she longed to be down by the water, walking on the soft sand, feeling the wind whip through her hair, inhaling the salty air, and just _living_ for a change.

She and her daughter escaped to the beach any chance they could, going on walks in the evening after she picked up Abby from daycare and spending as many weekend afternoons as they could there, soaking in the surf and sun. Her daughter loved the beach as much as she did, and she was relieved Abby wasn't one of those kids terrified of the crashing waves. She didn't know what she'd do if she had a child afraid of getting a little wet and sandy.

The beach was her lifeline, the one place where she could be herself and feel free.

Lately, those stolen moments where it was just the two of them down by the water were the only ones where she felt any semblance of peace.

***

Rebecca managed to leave the office on time that evening for a change. Her assistant had handed off the paperwork to the courier an hour ago, and after catching up on her work emails and voicemail messages, Rebecca was cruising down the highway to collect her daughter.

It was a gorgeous spring evening, the kind that begged to be spent outside. Her best friend Alison had called earlier to see if she and Abby wanted to meet for dinner at a local seafood restaurant and enjoy a meal out on the patio. It wasn't the same, bringing a four-year-old along, but she knew they would still have fun.

They'd agreed to meet at a restaurant on a popular strip in Virginia Beach. There was a huge outdoor patio, spanning two sides of the restaurant, with plenty of tables shaded by umbrellas and palm trees. Although it wasn't right on the ocean, on a quiet evening you could hear the waves crashing in the distance.

When she arrived, their trio sat down at a table and ordered drinks—milk for Abby and cocktails for the two women.

"Aren't you glad I convinced you to come?" Alison asked, sipping on her mojito and then tossing her strawberry blonde hair back over her shoulder as she glanced around.

"Honestly? Yeah. It's gorgeous out tonight. And I've been stuck inside all afternoon."

"Me too, mommy," Abby said, smiling at her mom.

"You too, what?"

"I got stuck, too. My jacket got stuck, but the teacher helped me."

Alison laughed and grinned at Rebecca. "Kids shouldn't be allowed to be that cute."

"Does it make you want one of your own soon?"

"Oh no. I've got to find Mr. Right first, and then maybe I'll consider producing some offspring. After my big, elaborate wedding and honeymoon with my fictitious husband of course."

"It'll happen," Rebecca replied. "A few years from now and you'll be begging me to babysit so you and your hot hubby can go out for a date night."

"In my dreams. With my recent track record, I'm pretty sure I'm destined to be single forever."

"That's what everyone thinks—and then 'bam' you meet someone."

"Is that so?" Alison asked with a laugh. "It sure hasn't worked that way for me. But I'll tell you what—I'll babysit Abby when you get the urge to date again."

"Thanks, but I already had my happily-ever-after. It just didn't last as long as I hoped."

Alison offered her a sympathetic glance. "You're young—there's no way you can predict right now that you'll never want to date again."

"Like I have the time," Rebecca said, grabbing Abby's glass of milk before it fell off the table. "I'm too busy with work and this little one, and that's fine."

The waitress brought over their orders, and Rebecca helped her daughter with her grilled cheese sandwich, relieved to have the conversation turned away from her dating life—or lack thereof. She knew all of her friends and family just wanted her to be happy, but her husband had been "the one."

How many people had more than one of those kind of loves in their lifetime? The fact was, they didn't. And Rebecca had learned to be okay with that knowledge. She had her work, her daughter, and there really wasn't much more that she could ask for.

She dug into her own crab cakes, moaning at the delicious taste and texture. The turkey sandwich she'd eaten at lunch just hadn't cut it. This was pure heaven. She picked up a seasoned fry and popped it into her mouth, watching the people walking down the street.

The table they'd gotten was right next to the sidewalk, separated from it only by a wooden railing. It was a relaxed, beach town atmosphere, and she could almost pretend that she was on vacation and not merely enjoying a meal and drinks with her best friend.

Families, couples holding hands, and single adults in their twenties and thirties, off to meet friends or a date for the night, all strolled by. Some were likely on vacation, and others, like her, lived here and were simply enjoying the spring weather. It was hard to resist going out on a gorgeous evening like this.

Her gaze shifted across the street to Anchors, a popular bar with the locals. Rebecca and Alison used to hang out there years ago, long before Rebecca was married and Abby had been born. They'd flirted with the sailors there and had a few drinks on several different occasions, but they'd gone there more for the experience than the hope of finding "the one."

It wasn't the type of place she'd take a preschooler, anyway. While it was a restaurant and bar, it was popular with the local military members and college students. They had good beer and cheap appetizers, but all she needed was for some drunken sailor to unknowingly teach her four-year-old her first curse words.

Yeah, she needed that like she needed a hole in her head.

It was more of a pick-up joint than family restaurant, but despite her single-again status, she'd steered clear of it.

"Yum," Alison said, catching sight of three attractive men who most certainly were in the military, headed in their direction.

"Yummy!" Abby chimed in, taking a bite of her sandwich.

The two women laughed, and Rebecca was thankful the men were far enough away not to hear them. Between the three extremely fit guys, she bet they could scare off anyone within the nearest block. They were all huge, with broad shoulders and chests and large, muscular biceps obtained through years of PT, not a couple of hours in the gym every week.

They sauntered down the street like they owned it, drawing attention from everyone in their wake. Including her, she realized, as the man in front met her gaze.

Steel blue eyes cut into hers, and she found herself staring right into their blue recesses, unable to look away. Rebecca faced down fierce opponents in the courtroom every week, but none of them held a candle to this man. He'd intimidate opposing counsel without even opening his mouth, that's how lethal he looked.

He broke their gaze first, surprising her, and his eyes landed on Abby. He looked familiar, she realized, a memory from long ago coming to the forefront of her mind.

Several years earlier, when Abby was just a baby, she'd gotten a flat tire after leaving the beach one morning. She used to go early back then, to keep Abby out of the heat of the day, and to avoid the afternoon crowds. A Navy SEAL jogging alone down the beach had offered to change the tire for her. She'd promised to pay him for his time and trouble, but he'd shrugged it off like it was nothing. Since her own husband had been working in the hospital that morning and she hadn't wanted to wait around for a tow truck with a baby, she'd gladly accepted his help.

It was funny that she'd forgotten about that incident until this very moment. She supposed tragedy would do that to a person—all that had been on her mind in the past year was moving on after the death of her husband. And although she'd certainly recognized the SEAL's power and pure masculinity at the time, it had been the furthest thing from her mind, what with a husband and new baby.

"I want the one on the left," Alison joked, and Rebecca's eyes briefly drifted to the fierce-looking man with brooding dark eyes.

"I recognize the first guy."

"Seriously? Because he's gorgeous, too."

"Yeah, he changed my tire years ago."

Alison laughed. " _That_ man changed your tire and you never told me about it? Hello—single and available here."

"Sorry, Abby was just a baby then. I was more worried about getting home than setting up my best friend."

"No worries—I have my eye on the other guy anyway."

The two SEALs walking behind the man she'd recognized briefly glanced their way but quickly lost interest in two women with a young child, focusing instead on the scantily-clad college students shrieking with laughter on the other side of the road. While her SEAL—since when was he _hers?—_ briefly glanced at the college girls, he returned his attention to Rebecca, nodding at her once, assuming she recognized him as well.

He wasn't the type of man easily forgotten—he was well over six feet, with shortly cropped dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She imagined he commanded the attention of any room he entered. And while she had seen his gorgeous physique while he worked on her car, the awareness of him and resulting lust surging through her right now had most decidedly been absent then.

She smiled back at him, realizing she'd give just about anything to feel those powerful arms wrapped around her, even if just for one night. Would a man like that kiss as assuredly as the way he moved, expecting the entire world to bend to his presence and command? Would he be demanding in the bedroom, commanding her body to receive pleasures she could only imagine?

He seemed so careful and methodical that she imagined he would be an attentive lover. _Not going to happen._

"He winked at me," Abby giggled.

Winked?

Rebecca glanced back at the man in confusion, but his face was set in stone. The three men waited for the traffic to clear, standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the sidewalk, and crossed the street to Anchors without so much as a backward glance.

"Remind me why we stopped going there again," Alison said.

"I'll give you one good reason," Rebecca replied, eyeing her smiling daughter.

Maybe the man just had something in his eye. Certainly hardened SEALs didn't go around winking at children. He'd merely nodded at Rebecca in cool acknowledgement, so what on earth would lead her to believe that he'd wink at her child?

She watched them disappear into the bar with a slight pang of regret. Alison was right. Why exactly had they stopped going there?

#  Chapter 3

Patrick took a swig from his bottle of beer, glancing around at his laughing team members. They were making quite a commotion, but since Anchors was always loud at night and full of other bawdy SEALs and military guys enjoying a few beers, it went unnoticed.

Brent "Cobra" Rollins was currently sitting across from him with a pretty redhead on his lap, and the other guys were teasing her, saying she'd chosen the wrong SEAL. Brent was doing everything he could to convince her otherwise, currently planting a big kiss on her red lips.

The kiss quickly turned into a full-on make-out session as the other guys cheered him on, hooting and hollering, and Patrick shifted his gaze to the other areas of the restaurant.

Christopher was chatting up a brunette beauty at the bar. She would've been exactly Patrick's type a few years ago, before his marriage and subsequent divorce. Now he mostly steered clear of the fairer sex and barely noticed the women here, save for the ones brought to his attention by his teammates. Or the ones who would invariably hit on him.

He usually tried to keep his distance, shooting an icy gaze at any woman that approached, lest they think he was looking for a lady to take home for the night. A one-night-stand didn't exactly work when you had a kid, and besides, he was done with the whole relationship thing.

"I can't believe you made it," Mike said.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure if I would. But I wore Logan out earlier today. He fell asleep on the car ride over to his grandparents' house, so I didn't feel too guilty about leaving."

"That's gotta be rough, man."

"Having a kid?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure how anyone manages to have a family in this line of work."

"It didn't work out too well for me."

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up your ex."

"No worries," Patrick said, grabbing some buffalo wings from the platter. Hell if it didn't feel good eating bar food now that they were home. It was amazing what you missed when you were gone. Their recent deployment had been short and sweet, but those month-long missions were always brutal.

He'd come to Anchors tonight mostly just to keep their team's tradition alive. The day after they returned from a mission, they always met here to decompress and enjoy a few beers together. Hell, after camping out in the desert, living on MREs, hauling all of his gear around under the blazing sun, who was he to complain about a night out with his team? Logan was safely ensconced at his grandparents' house for a few hours, and Patrick was feeling like a new man after eight hours of sleep in his own bed.

He would've gladly slept longer, catching up on all the hours he'd lost on their deployment, but a certain six-year-old had woke him up bright and early. Not that he was complaining.

Patrick had enjoyed a morning with his son and then met up with the rest of his SEAL team and CO earlier in the day, debriefing from their mission. The hostage rescue had been perfectly executed, so there wasn't much to discuss aside from a brief rundown of how the events had played out.

Easy in and easy out was exactly the way he liked it. Aside from his forearm meeting with a combatant's knife, everything had gone according to plan.

Patrick had visited the physician on base afterward, who'd been impressed with Mike's stitching up of the wound on his arm. The black stitches stood out against the red gash, but the doctor had said it would barely even leave a scar.

He'd have to thank Mike again for patching him back up. Not that he was worried about a battle scar, but infection and blood loss had certainly been a concern at the time. That and nabbing their man from the enemy. Patrick had coolly sat down as they'd climbed back onto the Black Hawk and made a hasty escape, Mike already applying pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding as they lifted off the ground.

"Hello boys," a sultry voice purred.

Patrick glanced over to see ample cleavage displayed at his eye level and finally looked further up to the heavily made-up face of a young blonde woman. He'd never understood why some females needed to look so done up when they went out. This woman was probably pretty beneath all that makeup, but her outfit and overall appearance gave him the impression of a woman trying too hard.

Hell, with a body like hers, most guys wouldn't even notice her other features. Not with the skimpy clothes she currently had on.

"Well hello, darlin'," Matthew "Gator" Murphy replied as the other men lifted their eyes in interest.

She giggled, the sound entirely too sugary sweet for Patrick's liking. "Darlin'?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Matthew replied, laying it on real thick.

"Hell, you don't have an accent," Evan protested.

"See anything you like?" Matthew asked as he winked at the woman.

Attracted by his southern charm, the woman batted her eyelashes at him suggestively. Mike let out a low whistle, and only Brent looked unconcerned, since he was still lip-locked with the pretty redhead.

Matthew took her hand and kissed it as she giggled. As she sidled up to him, Mike and Evan asked if she had any single friends, seeing as though Matthew had already claimed her as his own.

Patrick looked on with detached amusement. Hell, it was hard for him to believe he'd actually met his ex-wife here years ago. She'd never looked as ridiculous as this woman, but had he ever been that young and foolish, happy with any attention from the opposite sex? _Yes_. It was pretty damn hard to remember those carefree days now.

His mind flashed back to the attractive woman he'd spotted outside as he and his men walked to Anchors earlier in the evening. He remembered her from years ago, although he hadn't recalled their encounter until tonight. She was newly married with a baby back then, if he remembered correctly.

She'd been so relieved to have him come to her rescue that she'd barely noticed his rippling muscles as he'd removed the flat tire from her car. And that he definitely remembered, because other women always took notice of him jogging shirtless along the beach. They'd stare at him longingly sometimes, but she'd only been concerned about her baby, as one would expect. Her husband was some kind of surgeon at the hospital, and she'd been worried about having no way to get home.

It was strange to see her all these years later. She still looked exactly the same, pretty—no, make that beautiful—but with a fresh-faced appearance. There was no heavily done makeup, no trying too hard. Her hair had fallen in soft waves to her shoulders, and he'd had the strangest desire to reach out and touch it. To feel all that silkiness beneath his fingertips.

She was almost exactly as he remembered, although her daughter looked to be about four now. He was surprised at how many details he seemed to recall about that day he'd helped her—those soft brown eyes looking up at him, the small frame with womanly curves concealed beneath the sundress she'd had on. At the time he'd wondered what type of bikini she'd had on beneath it, and then he'd scolded himself for even thinking about that. She was a newlywed and young mom, not some pretty young thing to chase after. And, given the circumstances, she'd barely paid him a second glance.

Tonight, however, had been different. She'd met and held his gaze, obviously interested in him, although he'd known it had taken a moment for recognition to spark in her eyes. She'd smiled almost shyly at him after he'd nodded. He wondered if she ate there often and tucked that knowledge away for a later date. He wouldn't mind running into her again.

Her husband hadn't been with them tonight, although that didn't mean he was out of the picture all these years later. She could easily have just been enjoying dinner with a sister or friend while he was at work.

Their kids were close in age, with his son being only slightly older than her young daughter. She'd certainly understand what it was like to be a parent, to be responsible for another human being 24/7. Most of the women he went home with—few as though they were these days—had no idea what it was like to raise a child. Nor did they want to find out.

Why exactly he wanted to talk to this woman more, he wasn't sure. Just because his marriage hadn't worked out didn't mean she was unhappy. She could have ten kids at home for all he knew.

"We're heading out," Matthew said, standing to leave with the blonde tucked safely against him. She was practically pawing at his chest, and Patrick could see the envy in the other men's eyes.

Patrick nodded at them as way of goodbye.

"Us too," Brent said, setting the redhead down beside him. "I promised this pretty lady I'd show her a good time tonight," he added with a wicked grin.

Brent received a few howls of approval from his team and some other guys nearby who'd overheard the comment. They raised their beers to him as he and the redhead both laughed.

A few minutes later, Patrick said goodbye to the remaining men on his team and escaped the chaos at Anchors, slipping alone back out into the cool night. For the second evening in a row, he headed over to pick up his son. He had training in the morning with his men, but the weekend was near, and he was looking forward to some much needed time off.

***

Patrick cruised along I-264 on Saturday morning, admiring the glistening water below. The long stretch of bridge bothered some people who had a fear of heights, but he loved the freedom of sailing over the wide span of river. The only thing better would be to actually be _on_ the water, enjoying the morning sunshine and fresh air in a boat.

When Logan was older, they'd be able to go out on the ocean or one of the local rivers more. He'd teach him to sail, to navigate the waters. They'd jet ski together, too. First the kid had to learn how to swim though. For now, fishing was about as adventurous as they got on the water, and that was fine by Patrick. He had years to enjoy all that the Virginia Beach area offered with his son.

He and Logan had gotten an early start this morning, heading toward a local amusement park outside of Williamsburg and avoiding the traffic that was often at a standstill on the bridge on weekends. He didn't mind the traffic necessarily, not when you got to sit there and admire the view of the water. It sure beat sitting bumper-to-bumper on any old highway. But the idea of wasting time when they could just as easily leave a bit earlier and bypass the inevitable traffic jam made the most sense. Plus, the amusement park would be less crowded the earlier they got there, and he'd promised Logan a fun day.

His cell rang, and he glanced down to see his sister's name on the screen. She lived in nearby Norfolk, and although they didn't see each other too frequently, they managed to get together at least once every month or two when he was in town.

Pushing the button for speaker, he answered.

"You're back!"

"Yeah, I just got back a few days ago. Didn't you see my text?"

"I'm just excited is all."

"Logan and I are headed to an amusement park for the day."

"He'll love that. Do you guys want to come over for dinner tonight?"

"Sure, I guess we could. I can't really offer to bring anything though. We're already driving over the bridge."

"Just bring yourselves. Call me when you're on your way—you never know with traffic around here."

"Sounds great; we'll see you tonight."

He hung up the phone and glanced back at his son in the rear-view mirror. It was tough on Logan not knowing how long his dad would be gone each time Patrick deployed with his SEAL team, so he tried to make it up with a fun adventure for just the two of them whenever he returned.

He and Logan both looked forward to those days. He knew it was hard on Logan not having his mother around, and having to worry about his father's dangerous job, too? That wasn't something any kid should have to deal with.

A driver in front of him laid on the horn and swerved around a slow-moving vehicle. Patrick applied the brakes and calmly changed lanes, briefly glancing over to make sure there was no problem with the other car.

There'd been a terrible accident on the bridge last year, a five-car collision with one vehicle pushed off into the river below. Two passengers had been killed in an SUV on the bridge, and the man whose car had plunged into the water hadn't survived either.

It was a horrible story, with dive teams searching several days to recover the body. The accident had caused a traffic back-up for hours, with people trapped in their vehicles on the bridge and unable to go anywhere, stuck in complete gridlock until the lanes and bridge reopened.

Emergency crews had been able to drive along the shoulder to attend to the victims, but the entire clusterfuck made him realize why some people were wary to ever travel across the bridge and tunnel stretch of the highway. There was little way to avoid it living near the beach, though, unless once you arrived, you never left.

"Dad, can we go on the biggest roller coaster today?" Logan asked excitedly from the back seat.

"We'll have to see how tall you are, buddy."

"Am I big enough?"

"Maybe so. We'll measure you when we get there, all right?"

"Yes! I want to ride them ALL."

"We'll ride what we can. How does that sound?"

"Awesome. Thanks, Dad."

They spent the morning on all the rides Logan was old enough for and then grabbed some hotdogs and funnel cakes for lunch. Logan eagerly slurped down his soda, his eyes wide with excitement, while Patrick enjoyed a frosty mug of beer as they sat in a shaded area.

The place was already packed, and he figured they'd hit a few more rides before calling it a day. With the lines growing, they wouldn't be able to get to everything Logan wanted, but the poor kid was already looking tired. It was a lot of walking around for a six-year-old boy. Patrick had a feeling that by the afternoon he'd be carrying Logan to the parking lot, completely exhausted from all the excitement.

His CO had warned the team yesterday that they may have to deploy again in the coming week, so Patrick wanted to get in as much quality time as he could with Logan. It was unusual but not unheard of that they'd be called up again so quickly.

Luckily, Logan's grandparents were close by and able to watch him, but it almost made Patrick wish to be married again someday, to have a wife and mother to care for Logan when he couldn't. _Almost._

That line of thinking wouldn't get him anywhere, because he knew for a fact that he was better off alone. Watching his ex-wife suffer from cancer was almost more than he could bear, and he was certain that he'd never let a woman get into his heart that way again. Hell no, he and Logan were doing just fine.

Another ten years or so, and his son would be off with his own friends on the weekends, having fun and getting into trouble like all teenagers. He probably wouldn't even notice when Patrick wasn't around.

The time they had together now was theirs alone, and Patrick would do anything to protect that. His son needed to be shielded from getting hurt again just as he did, and if that meant living his life alone, protecting them both from the inevitable hurt that went along with loving someone, then so be it.

#  Chapter 4

Rebecca chased after her daughter as they ran to the playground down by the beach on Sunday afternoon. She was glad she'd worn flat sandals, otherwise she'd have no chance in keeping up with her active four-year-old.

Gone were the days of strolling down the boardwalk in sundresses and cute wedge sandals, grabbing a drink at one of the bars. Even walking hand-in-hand along the water with a man was a long-forgotten memory. Those days felt like a lifetime ago, but she wouldn't change anything for the world.

Her weekend with Abby had already been filled to the brim with kid-friendly activities: a birthday party for a preschool friend, kite-flying on the beach, and brunch with her parents in Williamsburg earlier that morning.

She'd been terrified as always driving over the bridge as they headed back home, but traffic was light on Sunday morning, and since it was a clear day, she'd managed to calmly drive across while only gripping the steering wheel somewhat tightly.

Okay, maybe she'd held it in a death grip, but they'd made it across, hadn't they?

"I wanna swing!" Abby shouted as she raced toward the swing set.

"Wait for me!" Rebecca chastised, hurrying after her.

A family with two little boys was over near the slide, but otherwise, they had the place to themselves. Rebecca hoped the busy day would mean Abby went to bed early that night. She had some depositions to read through in preparation for a hearing later in the week and didn't relish the idea of a late night. She'd had enough of those recently, thank you very much.

After an hour spent running around outside this afternoon to wear her out, she'd be able to tuck Abby into bed as soon as dinner was over.

"Can I swing, too?" a little boy asked a few minutes later.

"Of course," Rebecca said, moving aside so that the child could climb onto the other swing.

"Watch me!" Abby shouted.

Abby had finally mastered the ability to swing by herself, without Rebecca pushing her "faster, faster!"

Rebecca enjoyed the few moments of respite as she watched her daughter, thinking of how quickly things had changed in such a short time. One minute she'd been nursing an infant in the quiet confines of her home and the next she had an active preschooler, shrieking wildly with glee. Abby would be driving before she knew it, she thought.

"Logan, don't forget to say 'please,'" a deep voice behind her said.

Rebecca jumped, startled, at the low rumble that somehow worked its way inside her, twisting her up in knots and setting her whole body alight with awareness. She turned around and her eyes widened in shock at seeing the man from the other night _here_ , on the playground of all places.

He was larger than life, standing well over six feet, and practically oozed testosterone from his pores. The guy was ripped, evident even in the navy blue tee shirt and cargo shorts he wore. The tee hugged his broad chest, showing off large pecs and wide shoulders. His biceps bulged beneath the sleeves, and Rebecca had to force herself to meet his cool blue gaze to keep from ogling him.

The guy looked like he should be jumping out of airplanes or something, or at the very least engaging in some sort of outdoor activities with his buddies. But standing here on the playground? Not exactly.

She wondered who he was to Logan. An uncle, maybe? She didn't get the fatherly vibe from him, whatever that was. And he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Not that she'd looked.

"We meet again," he said, gazing down at her with an unreadable expression.

"So we do. Is he yours?" she asked, gesturing toward Logan.

It wasn't a strange question; she asked other parents all the time which child was theirs. Her mystery guy only raised his eyebrows.

"That's my daughter, Abby," she said, hoping to smooth over whatever misstep she'd made. He'd almost looked offended by the question.

"Yes, that's my son, Logan."

"I remember you. You helped me change my tire."

"I don't recall helping you so much as changing it myself."

Rebecca's mouth dropped open, taken aback, but then she realized he was just teasing her. He had a really subtle way of flirting, if that's what he was doing.

He looked so stern and serious, it was hard to get a read on him. She saw a flicker in his eyes that let her know he was just giving her a hard time. The corner of his mouth hitched slightly, and she was certain that a blush was creeping over her skin.

"Well," she said smoothly, recovering. "Thank you for your assistance, nonetheless."

"I'm Patrick," he said, extending a large hand toward her.

"Rebecca."

She took his hand and jolted in surprise at his warm, sure grip. His hands were rough, slightly calloused, and as he held her much smaller hand in his, she could tell he was holding back, not squeezing it nearly as tightly as he usually would when meeting someone.

She could see all the tendons and muscles in his thick forearm and knew this guy could probably annihilate anyone in a few seconds. He was positively lethal, but something about that attracted her to him even more.

She felt safe with him, like nothing bad could happen to her or her daughter. He'd helped her, years ago, when he had absolutely no need. She'd been with her baby for heaven's sakes; it wasn't like he'd expected her to fall into his bed after assisting her with the flat. He was just...a good guy.

No, "guy" was too mild of a word for him. He was a rock-solid man, with pounds of muscle and strength tightly leashed beneath all that smooth, tanned skin. Skin she wouldn't mind running her fingertips over, truth be told.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said in a low voice.

"Likewise. I suppose you're in the military?"

"What gave you that idea?"

She looked at him quizzically and then realized he was teasing her again. Nothing but his eyes gave it away, and she flushed. She actually _flushed_ beneath this man's gaze.

He cleared his throat and answered, putting her out of her misery. "I'm a Navy SEAL."

"That makes sense," she mused. "What happened to your arm?" she asked, noticing the stitches.

"A little souvenir from a recent mission."

"It sounds dangerous."

"We're well-trained."

"Mommy, can I go on the slide now?" Abby asked, jumping off the swing.

Rebecca cringed as Abby sailed a couple of feet through the air, but her daughter landed safely. She noticed Patrick watching her closely, too, apparently ready to intervene if necessary.

"Sure, go on, sweetie."

"I'm not scared of the slide at all!" Logan yelled, running after her.

It never ceased to amaze Rebecca how quickly kids could make friends and bond with one another. Here she was still exchanging pleasantries with Patrick and their kids had already each made a new friend.

"How about you?" Patrick asked in his quiet way. "What do you do?"

"I'm a divorce lawyer."

Patrick tensed noticeably, his jaw tightening, but quickly recovered. "Are you married?" he inquired.

"I was," she hedged.

"Divorced?"

Wow, he was nosy, but maybe it was just professional curiosity since she'd just told him she was a divorce lawyer. Wouldn't that be ironic, the divorce lawyer who was divorced herself? It was certainly not unheard of, but still. There was some humor in that notion.

Of course, he wasn't wearing a ring but had a kid, so there was always the possibility that he'd been married once. No wonder he didn't like divorces.

"No, uh, my husband was killed last year. Car accident," she added, without really knowing why. She didn't need to explain herself to this man. In fact, she usually offered as little information as possible. Reliving that nightmare wasn't something she'd wish on her worst enemy.

"I'm sorry." His eyes softened slightly, but before she could respond, they were interrupted by screams from Abby.

"A bee! A bee!" she shrieked from the top of the slide. Logan quickly slid down, running away, but Abby stood at the top, waving her arms frantically and wailing.

"Hang on!" Rebecca called out, rushing over. "Slide down!" she said, reaching her arms up to attempt to guide her.

"Mommy!" Abby cried. "Take me down!"

"Sweetie, I can't reach you," she said, blowing out a breath in exasperation. "Just come down the slide. Or wait there for me to climb up," she added, glancing over at the ladder.

"I got her," Patrick said easily, suddenly appearing at her side. He was a good foot taller than Rebecca and could reach Abby from where he stood.

Rebecca watched as his large hands grasped her daughter beneath the arms, and he plucked her off the playground as if she weighed nothing at all. Abby whimpered but didn't protest, and within seconds, she was wrapping her arms tightly around Rebecca's legs as Patrick set her down.

His hand accidently brushed against Rebecca's bare thigh, and she flushed at his warm touch. He seemed momentarily startled as well but quickly recovered and stood to his full height, which was rather imposing now that he was standing only a few inches away.

"There was a bee!" Logan shouted, pointing to where they'd just come from.

"They won't hurt you," Rebecca said. "They're just looking for flowers, not kids."

"I hate bees," Abby said, still crying.

Rebecca crouched down and brushed some of the hair back from Abby's face, wiping away her tears. "How about we go for ice cream now?"

"Yeah."

"I want ice cream, too, Dad," said Logan.

"Let's go now," Abby pouted, pulling away from Rebecca and looking across the street at the ice cream parlor. There were plenty of ice cream shops along the boardwalk, but because that one was right next to the playground, Rebecca had made it a tradition of taking Abby there after playing on the weekends.

Patrick looked between Rebecca and her daughter. "Mind if we join you?"

"Oh, of course not," Rebecca said, slightly taken aback. That was about the last thing she'd expected to come from his mouth. In fact, if he'd asked her to spend the afternoon bungee jumping with him she'd probably be less shocked.

She took Abby's hand as they started to walk across the street, and a feeling of warmth surged through her at the idea of spending a little more time with Patrick. It wasn't like they were going on a date or something—they were taking their kids for ice cream for heaven's sake. But with his big, muscular body walking right behind hers, alerting her to his presence more than anyone she barely knew had a right to, a variety of feelings washed over her—attraction, interest, comfort.

Thank goodness she actually looked presentable, having fixed herself up for brunch earlier. She'd switched into shorts for the trip to the playground, but she had on a pretty top that highlighted her curves and had taken the time to apply some light makeup.

Patrick grabbed the door handle as she reached for it, pulling it open and gesturing for them to go ahead. She tried not to flinch as she walked past him, every nerve in her body suddenly tingling in awareness. Damn. He even smelled good, too.

Was he trying to kill her with his manners, good looks, and body worth drooling over? Oh, and not to mention a career sought after by many men. How many guys dreamed of becoming Navy SEALs one day? Most never would.

Plus, he was spending the afternoon with his kid at the playground. If she actually dated anymore, this guy would practically be the total package.

She ordered a kid's sundae for Abby and a cappuccino for herself, thinking the caffeine would do little to calm her frayed nerves. Oddly enough, she hadn't felt flustered at all until Patrick had shown up. Imagine that.

Patrick ordered for his son but didn't get anything for himself. They selected a table by the window and while the kids dug into their ice cream, Patrick and Rebecca sat in comfortable silence as she sipped on her coffee.

"You don't like ice cream?" Patrick finally asked.

***

"I like caffeine more," Rebecca said with a laugh. "I certainly will need it tonight."

Her warm brown eyes glinted in the sunlight, flecked with specks of gold. Her soft brown waves framed her face, and for a moment, Patrick wished they were alone so that he could bend down and kiss her. Her full, pink lips had been taunting him all afternoon every time she opened her mouth. Now, he watched with interest as she sipped her cappuccino, leaving just a hint of pink lip gloss behind on the cup.

She was small, only around five-feet-four or so, with a petite frame and soft, womanly curves in all the right places. And how he'd noticed those curves as he'd watched her—the swell of her full breasts, pushing against her thin top, the shapely legs he'd accidently caressed as he set her daughter down. Hell if he hadn't wanted to run his hands up and down them, feeling their softness beneath his fingers, making Rebecca tremble at his touch.

And then, when they'd walked across the street? Her firm backside had taunted him as her hips swayed back and forth. What would it feel like to palm her round ass, pulling her tightly against him so that all those soft curves were pressed up against his hard body?

He'd teased her on the playground, not knowing what had gotten into him but unable to stop himself. That wasn't how he usually operated—if he was interested in a woman, they knew without a doubt what was on his mind in ten seconds, flat.

Granted, the types of women he'd been with in the past he'd met while out at a bar, and they were every bit as interested in a good time as he was. He'd clearly tell them when they'd left it was just for one night, and none of the women he'd gone home with had ever had a problem with that.

But today, with Rebecca? He'd wanted to see how she'd react to him, and once that hint of a blush had crossed her cheeks, he'd wanted to do anything to see it there again. He imagined she'd look like that right after she'd come—cheeks flushed, eyes wide, lips parted. He'd gotten a rise out of her with only a few words, and he knew he could do much, much more with a night in bed together.

Patrick hadn't even been with a woman in months. He did still slake his need from time-to-time, enjoying the pleasure of a woman only when his son was gone for the weekend at his grandparents. But while the rest of the guys on his team seemed content to bed a different woman every weekend, he had no interest in that. He had no desire for a relationship either, but something about Rebecca drew him in.

She didn't throw herself at him like all the other women that he came across did. Certainly not like the two ladies hitting on Brent and Matthew the other night.

Rebecca was sexy and beautiful, but also a lawyer and mother. She had an entire life that didn't revolve around his being a SEAL. While many women wanted him for that reason alone, she didn't seem the least bit turned on or turned off by what he did. And wasn't that a change.

Still, he had to find out why she needed to be up late at night. She hadn't mentioned having a man in her life, but he had an unreasonable need to find out for sure right then and there. The thought of another man's hands moving over her lush body, his lips caressing her soft skin, had him seeing red. Not that she was _his_ , but that sure as hell didn't mean he felt comfortable with her belonging to another.

"And what keeps you up at night?" he asked huskily, watching her blush again at the sexual undertones of his question.

"Work," she finally replied, recovering, as she met his blue gaze.

He grinned at her, trying to put her more at ease. "You're too easy to tease," he finally admitted. It wasn't like him to want to put anyone at ease, but something about this woman had him feeling possessive and protective at the same time. Not to mention incredibly, uncomfortably, aroused.

"It's not nice to tease people," Abby said innocently, and Rebecca and Patrick both burst into laughter.

"You're not having any ice cream either," Rebecca pointed out.

He shrugged, not really caring to explain that he was on a strict training regimen. "So Rebecca," he said, enjoying the way the sound of her name felt on his lips, "do you and Abby frequent the playground often?"

"Yes!" Abby shouted.

Rebecca smiled at her daughter and looked back to him. "It's pretty much our Sunday afternoon tradition when the weather is good."

He considered that, wanting to see her again without knowing entirely why. "Maybe Logan and I will see you here next weekend?"

"I'd like that."

He stared at her a moment longer then he should have and then stood. "Come on, buddy, let's get going."

Logan jumped to his feet, and Patrick rested his hand on his son's shoulder before meeting Rebecca's eyes. "Stay safe," he said, before turning to leave.

He could feel her eyes watching him as they walked out the front door, and it took absolutely all of his strength not to look back.

#  Chapter 5

"Stay safe," he'd said in that deep voice of his that rumbled right through her until she felt it all the way to her core. Her insides had turned all soft at his low, masculine voice and slightly authoritative tone. His words wrapped around her, and it had felt like warm honey was oozing over her skin when he'd issued his command.

What a strange goodbye—not "see you soon" or even "take care." Stay safe. With those cool blue eyes boring into hers and that intense, penetrating way he had of looking at her, she imagined a whole lot of ways she wished to stay with him—in his arms, tucked against his hard chest...in his bed.

Not that he necessarily wanted her that way. She'd seen all the women drooling over Patrick and his friends as they'd walked down the street the other night. He had his pick of anyone, and a strong, alpha male like Patrick wouldn't be interested in an independent woman like herself. She had a career and a child—her own life to attend to. She couldn't spend her time fawning all over him even if the sound of his voice did turn her insides to mush.

It was just nice to have someone to talk to while their kids played. A man she could carry on a conversation with. And the fact that he was easy on the eyes certainly hadn't hurt.

She walked briskly through the lobby of the courthouse, putting further thoughts of Patrick and last weekend aside. The hearing that morning had gone well. She'd been well-prepared and could've anticipated the outcome even before the judge opened his mouth. The late nights she'd been putting in had been brutal, but once again, she'd succeeded in negotiating a tricky custody battle and gotten what was fair and deserved.

Her client had been granted full custody of her daughter and would be receiving a sizeable alimony and child support payment each month. Since the husband had been cheating on his wife for years, Rebecca didn't feel bad that things had turned out to his disadvantage. Guys like him deserved all the trouble they reaped.

"Rebecca, thanks again!" her client called out, catching her before she walked out the door.

Rebecca turned and flashed her a smile, hopefully portraying only authority and professionalism. Although she wanted to do a victory dance, to hug the woman she'd come to know and offer her enthusiastic congratulations, she was still in the courthouse. She had her image to maintain.

"Of course," she said warmly. "You deserve it after the wringer you've been put through."

"I'm just so relieved it's over."

"Aren't we all. Go enjoy the afternoon with your daughter."

"Thanks, I will. A victory like this deserves a celebration. Care to join us?"

"I appreciate the invitation, but I have to get back to the office."

"Of course. Thank you again."

"Be sure to let me know if you need anything."

The two women said their goodbyes and parted ways, Rebecca heading toward the parking lot. She'd be back at the courthouse tomorrow for a hearing on a different case, and then the weekend would finally be here. She found herself looking forward to it even more than usual, and she knew that had everything to do with the handsome Navy SEAL she'd met.

They hadn't really made plans per se, but the thought of him at the playground with his son wondering where she and Abby were left a pit in her stomach. Rebecca wanted to spend more time with Patrick, and she felt like he wouldn't have suggested the idea that they'd see each other again if he had no intention of following through on that.

Still, when Sunday came, and she and Abby made their usual trip to the park for some play time and ice cream, she found herself disappointed that Patrick never made an appearance. Not that he was obligated to—of course not. He'd merely suggested that he'd see her here today. They hadn't set a time to meet or even exchanged phone numbers.

Despite that, she'd fully expected to see him and his cute little boy Logan. Anything could have come up—maybe they made other plans or Logan was sick. Maybe he'd changed his mind. Her daughter certainly didn't care and was content to play with the other children there.

It stung just a little bit though, and Rebecca realized that she'd gotten her hopes up at the idea of seeing him again. She'd been looking forward to it all week, even envisioning them grabbing ice cream and coffee again afterward, and Patrick hadn't even shown up.

She hadn't imagined the way that he'd teased her last weekend—she knew that. It wasn't like her to blush so much around a man, but he'd seemed to enjoy it. Something about him got under her skin, making her far too aware of his presence. Making him far too interesting for her to get out of her mind.

But maybe he flirted with any woman. It's not like he'd pursued her; they'd simply run into one another at the park. Memories of his penetrating blue gaze had her insides warming. And the way his hand had accidentally, innocently brushed against her thigh? She'd spent more than a few nights over the past week imagining his hands all over her skin. Imagining those lips brushing against her flesh.

Maybe Patrick's not showing was for the best, anyway. She was far more attracted to Patrick than she should be if they were just friends watching their kids play together. She certainly didn't need to feel like a teenager with a crush on a guy she could never have.

No, if she ever ran into him again, she'd just be polite but cool. She and Abby had done fine for the past year on their own, and one nice afternoon with a handsome—okay, make that ridiculously hot—Navy SEAL wasn't going to change that.

***

Patrick wiped the sweat from his brow as his team moved in from their hidden location. They'd been called in to capture a high-value asset and had been quietly sitting in wait for the past thirty minutes, crouched down in the shadows. Their target was finally preparing to exit the building, unaware of the SEAL team ready to swarm in.

Intel gleaned over the course of the last week had pinpointed the target's location, and within twelve hours, his team had deployed from Little Creek to the Middle East. His men were ready to go at all times, trained to leave at a moment's notice, but it was difficult leaving his son again so soon. He also knew that Rebecca was probably wondering what had happened to him, and he felt a pang of regret at not being able to meet her today as he'd promised. Or to somehow tell her that he wouldn't be there.

Okay, so maybe _promised_ was too strong of a word, but he'd planted the suggestion of seeing her again in her mind. A suggestion to which she'd readily agreed. And instead of gazing into those caramel brown eyes right now, watching a flush creep over her skin as he discovered something else to gently tease her about, he was hunkered down in the dirt in his desert camo and combat boots, running on only a few hours of sleep.

The man they were searching for stepped from the doorway, flanked on both sides by bodyguards, but it was too late. Brent and Matthew swooped in from one side, armed with HK416 assault rifles, and Mike fired rounds from the building across the street, taking out both guards. As the man looked up in confusion, reaching for his own semi-automatic weapon, Patrick and Christopher charged forward.

The target was on the ground in an instant. He uttered a string of curses in his native tongue as Patrick forcefully planted his knee in the man's back, preventing any further movement.

"We have the package," Christopher quietly said into his mouthpiece.

"Roger that," came Evan's voice into Patrick's earpiece. "I'm on the move."

Evan raced up in their armored vehicle, and within seconds they'd climbed in and were speeding out of the small town, leaving nothing but dust in their wake as a few women and children looked on.

They'd blindfolded and subdued their asset, one man guarding him on each side. Upon returning to base, they'd hand him off to other members of the U.S. military for questioning and detainment. Patrick's SEAL team, however, was done. They were trained to work seamlessly as one unit, and once again, the mission had proceeded flawlessly. If all went according to plan, that evening they'd be back on a flight to The States.

"At least I didn't have to stitch you up this time," Mike joked with Patrick after they'd returned to base.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you?" Patrick muttered.

As if he needed a reminder of the insurgent who'd stabbed him during their last mission. He'd made it his personal goal not to let any enemy combatants get within arm's length of him this time—save for the prisoner they'd captured, who he'd gladly manhandled as they'd snatched him off the street.

"Easy, boys," Matthew said as he stripped off his helmet and Kevlar vest. "You know it's me you can't keep your hands off of. I have that problem with the ladies, too."

Patrick bit out a curse.

"Whatever happened to that pretty blonde you took home?" Evan asked, suddenly looking interested. He tugged off his helmet and wiped sweat from his brow, looking at Matthew expectantly. "I bet she couldn't keep her hands to herself."

"We had a good time," Matthew said with a grin. "But now it's on to bigger and better things."

"Would DD work for you?" Brent asked.

"Fuck yeah," Matthew agreed. "I could work with those."

Hell. Those guys were damn near impossible to keep in line when it came to women. Not that he hadn't enjoyed his fair share of the opposite sex in his younger days, but Patrick was the only one of his men who'd been married—and divorced, not that he preferred to dwell on that part. Although he certainly admired the female form, he wasn't one to brag about his conquests either.

The guys bantered back and forth as Patrick strode off to the side, sucking water from his canteen like it was his lifeline. Damn this dry desert air. No matter how many times they deployed over here, no matter how long they stayed on each mission, he'd never get used to it. To the sand that never seemed to go away no matter how hard you tried to scrub it off. To the heat that seemed to suck your very soul dry.

Hell if he couldn't have been enjoying a nice afternoon with his kid and Rebecca right about now. She was probably pissed as hell that he'd said they should meet today, and he hadn't been there. Or upset that he'd stood her up. Shit.

He hadn't mentioned Rebecca to any of his team. Not that there was much to tell at this point, but he had a strong, urgent need to see her after having been unable to meet her today. Patrick didn't owe her anything, but he at least wanted to explain that he'd been kept away by circumstances beyond his control. That he would have much preferred a nice afternoon in her company—with or without the kids.

She hadn't given him her last name, but there couldn't be too many divorce lawyers in the Tidewater region named Rebecca, could there? She'd be easy enough to track down even without relying on his vast network of contacts acquired over years in the military. And if push came to shove, he'd find her by other means.

One thing was for certain—he couldn't imagine not seeing her again.

#  Chapter 6

Rebecca picked up her office phone on Tuesday afternoon, repeating "hello" several times, much to her irritation. There was no one there, just silence and dead air. She'd gotten a hang-up earlier in the day as well, but the call was blocked, so she wasn't able to see who was trying to reach her.

It was possible they were trying to contact one of the other lawyers in her firm and weren't expecting her to answer, but you'd think they'd apologize for calling the wrong number or ask to be connected to the appropriate party.

When her phone rang again a few minutes later, she glanced at it with a resigned sigh, but was relieved to see that this time a number with a local area code was displayed. Hopefully the other caller wouldn't bother her again.

"Rebecca Mayes."

She grabbed the legal pad sitting at the edge of her desk and a pen, ready to take notes on whatever inquiry the caller had. She received calls from new clients every day, seeking advice on legal counsel. Some only spoke with her briefly before deciding to contact another attorney, but most people sought her out specifically and wanted to set up a meeting.

After all, she was a well-known divorce attorney in the region who had a record of obtaining what was fair and deserved for her clients. Although she had a full plate the moment and was unable to take on any new clients until summer, perhaps she could direct them to another attorney at her firm. Or convince them to take a meeting with her at a later date.

"Rebecca, hi, this is Patrick Foster," came a deep voice from the other end of the line. "We met at the playground a week ago."

"Patrick?" Rebecca asked in surprise as her pen fell to her desk, her mind whirling with reasons as to why he'd be calling her. "Of course I remember you. Wait, you didn't just call and hang up a minute ago, did you?"

"Call and hang up?"

"Never mind. Someone called my office a couple of times earlier today but kept hanging up."

"Do I strike you as the type of man that would do that?" he asked in complete seriousness.

"What? No, of course not. It's probably nothing."

"If they keep calling, you should have the call traced. It could just be some kid fooling around, but you never know."

"Right, I'm sure they have the wrong number. It was just unusual, and then you called somewhat out of the blue, but anyway.... What can I do for you?"

She was surprised to hear from Patrick at all, quite frankly. Not that she was extremely difficult to track down. Her name and photo were prominently displayed on the firm's website, and there were only so many divorce attorneys around. She briefly wondered how long it had taken him to locate her, and the idea of Patrick spending the time to seek her out sent a thrill of pleasure through her that she couldn't quite explain.

He could have just as easily come back to the playground or ice cream shop one weekend in hopes of spotting her again. Or, of course, shown up when he'd said he would. Evidently he wasn't one to do things the easy way.

"I hope you don't mind my calling you at work. I wasn't sure how else to get a hold of you."

"It's fine," she assured him.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to meet you this past weekend. My team got called up, so we weren't around."

"Oh, right," she said, a feeling of surprise and relief washing over her. He _had_ wanted to see her again. Their flirtations the week before hadn't all been in her head. "I'm sure that happens all the time."

"Sometimes," he agreed. "We have to deploy quickly when needed. It's what we're trained to do. But I want to see you again. And I wanted to apologize for not being there on Sunday. I know we didn't have explicit plans, but when I say that I'll be somewhere, I keep my word."

"It's no problem. I mean, I hoped to see you again, but I realize things come up."

"Let me take you to dinner. Any chance you could find a babysitter for Abby on Friday night?"

Rebecca's heart stopped as her mind processed his request. Was he asking her out on a date? Or was this just some sort of apology for standing her up? There were certainly worse ways to spend her time than in Patrick's company for a couple of hours. But she didn't exactly want to get her hopes up either, thinking he was interested in taking her out when it was really just an apology of sorts. Not when she found him so insanely attractive.

Plus, she usually relied on her parents to watch Abby on the rare occasion she went out on the weekend, and they'd be out of town, heading down to North Carolina for a few days.

"Rebecca?" he asked when she hadn't responded.

"Sorry, I'm here. I'd love to have dinner with you, but I usually have my parents watch Abby, and they're out of town for the weekend."

"Of course," Patrick said, clearing his throat. "I shouldn't have assumed you'd be available."

"Maybe the following weekend?"

"That'd work," he agreed. "Of course, I'll have to wait that much longer to see you again, but I can be patient."

Rebecca laughed. "Well, I'm not sure if you're up for it, but I promised to take Abby to the beach this weekend. It's supposed to be pretty warm for this time of year. I don't suppose you and Logan would be interested in joining us?"

"Logan would love that," Patrick agreed, his voice low. "And since I'd love to see you again, we'll both be pretty happy."

Rebecca laughed again, feeling herself flush. What was it about this man that made her blush like a schoolgirl whenever he spoke? She certainly hadn't acted that way around her husband, even though they'd been madly in love. Theirs was more of a best friend type of companionship, whereas with Patrick? He blew her away.

Patrick's ability to tease her seemed to bring all sorts of feelings to the surface that she hadn't experienced since she was young, pining away after her first love. And the fact that the man was smoking hot? Yeah, just imagining him on the other end of the phone line had her stomach fluttering and toes curling in excitement.

"I'd still like to take you to dinner one night."

Warmth surged through her, and she couldn't suppress her smile. Thankfully they were talking over the phone so he didn't see her grinning like a complete idiot. "How about we make dinner plans when we see each other this weekend?"

"That sounds perfect."

They exchanged contact information, and by the time Rebecca hung up the phone, her hands were shaking. What had she just agreed to? She hadn't been out on a date with a man since her husband died. She rarely even went out with her friends since she had a daughter to care for. How would she explain Patrick showing up at her home to take her to dinner? Abby would be really confused at his arrival, especially since they were getting together _with_ the kids this weekend.

She'd have to drop Abby off at her parents' house for the night to avoid any awkward moments, but at least she had time to plan accordingly. The dinner was over a week away, and in the meantime, she had Saturday morning at the beach to look forward to. It wasn't exactly a date, per se, but the kids would play together, so she and Patrick could talk.

The thought of Patrick, shirtless on the beach, had her smiling in anticipation. It was tough to concentrate on anything else that afternoon.

#  Chapter 7

Patrick glanced around the beach on Saturday morning, scanning the people walking along the boardwalk as he searched for Rebecca. They'd agreed to meet at 10:00 a.m., but Logan had been bouncing off the walls earlier, eager to spend a sunny day at the ocean. They'd come down to the beach a bit early so he could blow off some steam. Judging from the way the kid was currently running around in circles on the sand that had been a wise choice.

Patrick had wanted to be there early anyway since he'd inadvertently stood Rebecca up last weekend. He didn't want her to wonder again if he'd be a no-show, even though she'd been understanding when they'd spoken on the phone.

Rebecca had been the only thing on his mind on the flight back home, with his thoughts trailing through the various ways he could track her down. Fortunately that hadn't proven a challenge. He'd pulled up a couple of local law firms that specialized in divorces on his computer the next night, and there she was, smiling at him from his computer screen. Wavy hair, stunning brown eyes, and the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. Hell if he wasn't already in too deep with the way he was smitten with this woman. She probably didn't even realize the effect she had on him.

The guys on his team had noticed a change in him, too. Even though he was focused on the mission with laser-like precision, his mind had been on Rebecca on their flight home. Namely the fact that she'd expected him, and he hadn't been there. Christopher had even gone so far as to ask if things were okay with Logan back home, assuming he was the cause of Patrick's concern, but Patrick had shot him an icy gaze, warning him off from any further questioning.

Hell, if the guys on his team knew it was a woman who'd had his stomach tied up in knots, worry snaking its way through him, they'd have given him crap about it for the entire flight back. He felt oddly protective of her, and if he said he'd be there to see Rebecca and her daughter, he meant it.

He certainly was looking forward to seeing her today. If the curves concealed beneath her clothing had been any indication, she'd be a knockout in a swimsuit. He was almost thankful he'd have his son there to distract him, otherwise he'd be tempted to haul her over his shoulder and off to the nearest bed. It was unusual that he couldn't get a woman out of his mind, and he was dying to find out if their chemistry in the bedroom would compare to the sparks flying between them every time they'd spoken. Unfortunately, that would have to wait for a later date.

A moment later he caught sight of Rebecca and her daughter. She had on a pretty yellow sundress, her brown waves pulled back in a ponytail, and dark sunglasses. Abby skipped along beside her, carrying a pink bucket for building sandcastles.

He frowned at the large cooler bag Rebecca had slung over her shoulder. She also was carrying a bag stuffed with beach towels. Why hadn't she called him when they'd arrived? He'd have gladly assisted her in lugging everything down to the ocean. Judging from the weight of the insulated bag she was struggling with, she'd brought enough food and drinks for all of them. He felt remorse at not having thought to bring drinks or sandwiches himself. Usually he and Logan played for a while in the sand and surf and then grabbed lunch at one of the sandwich shops on the boardwalk. That or they forgo lunch for ice cream, which Logan was more than happy with.

"Come on, buddy," he said, glancing down at his son. "They're here."

"Hi Abby!" Logan shouted, running ahead of him to greet his friend.

Rebecca spotted his son before she saw him, but when she glanced up, the smile that broke out across her face had his heart grinding to a stop. Since when did he start having feelings like this for a woman? When he and his ex-wife had divorced, he'd known that was it for him. He'd never be with someone again. He might enjoy some female companionship from time-to-time, but he sure as hell wouldn't let a woman into his heart.

Yet whenever he saw Rebecca, the walls he'd carefully constructed seemed to ever-so-slowly begin to chip away. He swallowed, trying to call forth the cool demeanor he usually had. No sense in getting carried away and assuming she even returned those feelings. He could make her blush with a few carefully chosen words, and she seemed attracted to him, but that didn't mean she'd fall for a man like him.

Rebecca was as independent as he was possessive and protective. There was no telling whether she'd appreciate that instinctive, alpha male trait in him or find it stifling. He was patient, though, willing to take the time to get to know her and see if there was anything to be had there. In fact, he might as well test the waters a little right now.

"Let me help you," he said, lifting the insulated bag off her shoulder without waiting for an answer.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, shifting the other bag she held. Score one for him.

"I packed too much, as usual," she said. "I thought maybe we could have lunch on the beach after the kids play. I don't know about Logan, but Abby is usually starving after an hour or so of running around on the sand."

"That sounds perfect," he agreed. "From the weight of this bag, though, you brought enough to feed my entire SEAL team."

Rebecca laughed, and he wished he could see into her eyes beneath those dark sunglasses that she had on. "Abby is really picky, so I packed a few different things. There's food and snacks for the kids and some sandwiches for us as well."

"A woman after my own heart," he teased, his voice low.

"Isn't that true for all men? The way to a man's heart is through his stomach?"

"It's certainly true for me."

Rebecca glanced up at him and grinned, and as he looked down, he could just see the swell of her breasts beneath the sundress she wore. Hell, she was gorgeous, with lush, full breasts that had him dying to reach out and touch. Taste. Caress.

Maybe agreeing to meet on the beach had been a bad idea, because with Rebecca walking around half-naked all day, he was going to be hard as a rock. Thank God the ocean was cold this time of year—he had a feeling he'd need a dip in the cool waters of the Atlantic if that gorgeous body of hers was as taunting in a swimsuit as it appeared to be beneath that dress.

***

Patrick chased after the beach ball as it rolled toward the waves, hearing Logan's and Abby's shrieks behind him. They'd barely gotten their feet wet in the cold water before declaring it was his job to retrieve the ball any time it got near the surf. He plucked it from the water, triumphantly lifting it above his head as the kids laughed. He glanced back to their setup on the beach, watching Rebecca rub sunscreen over her shoulders. Tossing the ball to Logan, he stared at her for a moment, completely smitten.

She'd taken off her sundress, revealing a purple swimsuit beneath it. And damn if it wasn't sexier than any bikini he'd ever seen—or maybe it was just Rebecca in it. Those curves were flaunted to perfection—the globes of her breasts pushing against the stretchy fabric, the slender waist, and gently curved hips. And when she bent over to retrieve a bottle of water? That ass he'd seen swaying in front of him as they'd walked across the street a couple of weeks ago. Only now it was concealed by nothing but tight spandex. Or whatever the hell women's swimsuits were made from.

He forced himself to look away before she caught him staring.

"Dad, I'm getting hungry!" Logan whined.

Patrick held back a sigh and glanced between the two children. "Shall we go see what Abby's mom brought for lunch?"

"Yes!" they both shouted, running ahead of him.

Patrick followed behind, walking back toward their setup on the beach, and he caught sight of a man in the distance, his gaze locked on Rebecca. She was unpacking food from the cooler, getting lunch ready for all of them. The man was watching as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. Did the guy know her? Or was he just the type to openly ogle every woman on the beach?

Patrick frowned as the man pulled out his cell phone and appeared to take a picture of Rebecca. It looked like this guy was nothing more than an asshole leering after women on the beach—and snapping their photo as a little memento.

He walked more quickly toward Rebecca, handing her the beach ball, and moved toward the man on the boardwalk. The guy took off as soon as he saw Patrick coming his way. Briefly, Patrick debated chasing the guy down, but he didn't want to cause a commotion. Plus, it's not like he was proof-positive the guy had snapped Rebecca's picture. The thought made him uneasy though, sending anger surging through him. He headed back to where Rebecca and the kids were waiting.

"There was a man taking your picture," he said in a low voice as he came up behind her, bending down so that his lips were at Rebecca's ear. She jumped in surprise at his silent arrival, and he put a reassuring hand on her arm as his large body stood protectively behind hers. He didn't want the kids to overhear him, or so he kept telling himself. And he didn't want the guy to see her, should he look back from his hasty retreat.

Standing so close to Rebecca and inhaling the floral scent of her shampoo, mixed in with the light scent of coconut sunscreen, was only an added benefit. Yeah right. He gently clasped her upper arm, allowing himself to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers.

"What?" she asked, startled. "Where?" She turned her head, and if he'd wanted to, he could have bent down and brushed his lips against hers. They were pink, ripe, and soft, and for a moment, he wondered what she tasted like. The moment might have been perfect if he wasn't telling her about some asshole on the boardwalk and the kids weren't a few feet away, that is.

"He's gone now."

"Why would he take my picture?" Rebecca asked, turning herself fully toward Patrick.

Patrick leveled her with a gaze. "You're an attractive woman, standing on a beach."

"What a creep," she said, her eyes narrowing.

"Do you want me to go find him?" Patrick asked, feeling concern snake its way through him. He'd scared the guy off, but all she had to do was say the word, and he'd track him down. "I can get him to delete the photo. There are probably pictures of other women on there as well."

"Mommy, I'm hungry!" Abby cried out, marching over to them.

"No, it's okay. I mean it's not _okay,_ but it was probably nothing."

"I'll keep an eye out for him," Patrick said quietly. "I don't think he'll be back."

"Well, you are good for scaring people off," Rebecca commented innocently. She pushed back her sunglasses so they balanced on her head and eyed him mischievously. She was a tiny little thing, barely coming up to his chin, but he could see that she had fire in her. No doubt she needed that in her line of work.

"Is that so?" He smirked, amused that she was finally teasing him in return.

She patted his chest, and he unwittingly flexed his muscles at the shock of her fingertips against him. "I'm pretty sure I could scare you off in a courtroom any day though."

She turned to get some food for her daughter, and a whole slew of emotions worked their way through him: surprise, respect, admiration, attraction, and arousal. Rebecca was a woman that would keep him on his toes, and hell if he didn't like her even more for that.

#  Chapter 8

Rebecca handed her daughter a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and smiled as she saw Patrick watching her. "I swear she could eat these morning, noon, and night if I let her."

"Logan, too," he agreed.

"Now if I could just get her to eat what I cook for dinner."

"I don't give him a choice," Patrick said with a laugh. "If it's on his plate, he'll eat it."

"Hmm. I might have to try that."

"Either that or become a short order cook." He winked, and Rebecca felt her skin warming.

Patrick leaned over to help his son with his own food, and Rebecca tried not to openly stare. The man was freaking gorgeous, with well-defined muscles stretching over the planes of his chest and ripples running down his abdomen that she was dying to explore with her fingertips.

The man didn't have a six-pack—it was more like an eight-pack. I mean she knew he was built—anyone could see that. He was an imposing figure even in street clothes. Seeing him half naked on the beach had her clenching her thighs together at the slow ache beginning to burn deep inside. Hell, even his legs were sexy, with corded thigh muscles just peeking out beneath the board shorts he wore. Lord help her if she ever saw the man in his uniform. He was sex on a stick.

And when he'd been playing with their kids down by the surf? It had taken her fifteen minutes to apply her own sunscreen because she kept sneaking peeks in his direction, watching him move amongst the sparkling water and soft sand.

Not only was he insanely attractive, but he'd had fun with her daughter and Logan. It warmed her inside to hear Abby's happy squeals as he'd chased the kids around. Although she played with Abby all the time, it wasn't the same kind of rough-housing that she'd done with her father, and it was nice to see her so free and happy again.

"We lucked out, having a great day like this so early in the spring," Patrick commented.

"I know, but I'll take it. The weather is perfect for a day at the beach."

"It's nice to live close to the ocean. The traffic is probably backed up on the bridge and highway for miles."

Rebecca shuddered but didn't comment. That was literally her worst nightmare at the moment—getting stuck on the bridge with nowhere to go and nothing but endless water stretched out below. She decided to change the subject.

"Did you always want to be a SEAL?"

"I always wanted to serve my country. I actually played football in high school and did pretty well. I was offered scholarships to play college ball, but I knew that wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. The SEAL part just kind of happened after I joined the Navy—I wanted to be part of the best of the best. September 11 only cemented my resolve to make this my career."

"That's very honorable—wanting to serve your country. Lesser men would've taken the easier route and the money they earned playing professional football."

"Probably so, but this was the right decision for me. Did you always want to be a lawyer?"

"Not exactly. I always loved research and writing. I was the student who loved spending hours in the library doing research for a term paper, coming up with an outline and thesis, and presenting my argument on paper."

Patrick chuckled, and she looked at him questioningly. His blue eyes were warm as they met hers, and she realized she enjoyed their easy conversation and getting to know one another better.

"I was more into athletics than academics," he admitted.

"That makes sense if you were as good a football player as you claim."

Patrick raised his eyebrows. "You doubt me?"

Rebecca laughed. "No, I didn't mean it like that. And I can see that you're quite, uh, athletic."

"That's pretty much the job description of being a SEAL," he teased.

"It should be—maybe they should use that line when recruiting. I won't even charge them for use of my catchy new slogan."

"So what made you become a lawyer?"

"I applied to law school and got in."

Patrick laughed. "Easy as that, huh?"

Rebecca returned his grin. "I guess it was, for me. I mean I could never jump out of airplanes or do whatever it is you do."

"That's some of it," he agreed.

"I kind of liked the idea of helping people, too. A lot of my clients are female. They're leaving husbands who've cheated on them, who've hurt them. Some just want out of their marriage without any good reason, but I feel like I'm helping a lot of the women that I take on as clients."

"I can understand that."

Rebecca turned to grab another bottle of water from the cooler and found Patrick's eyes watching her as she looked back. They briefly swept over her body before meeting her gaze. If she blinked she'd have missed it, but Patrick was definitely checking her out. She felt a blush creeping over her skin as she thought of him looking at her in her swimsuit. She was fit, yes, but not to the extent that he was. It didn't appear that he had any complaints though.

"Can you pass me another bottle of water, too?" he asked, his voice deep.

She grabbed one from the cooler, and their fingers briefly brushed against one another as she handed the drink to him. She could swear she felt sparks shooting out from where their skin touched, and she quickly pulled her hand back. Patrick didn't say anything, but she could feel his heated gaze on her.

She looked toward the ocean and unscrewed the cap from her drink, taking a long pull of the cool water. She was flushed, Patrick's eyes warming her from head to toe as desire burned through her. She knew her heated skin had nothing to do with the warm day and everything to do with the man seated beside her.

They'd enjoy dinner together on Friday and see where it led, but for the moment, they were just enjoying a nice day at the beach with their kids.

Or so she kept telling herself.

#  Chapter 9

The doorbell rang at 7:00 sharp on Friday evening. Rebecca had been looking forward to her date with Patrick all week, especially after enjoying the sparks that had been flying between them at the beach last weekend. Her parents had been kind enough to pick up Abby earlier in the evening so that Rebecca didn't have to make the drive to Williamsburg. In Friday evening rush hour traffic, the normally one-hour drive could easily have been two hours each way.

Besides, Abby was thrilled that her grandparents had arrived to pick her up for a sleepover at their house. It was all she had talked about all week, and knowing that Abby would be in good hands left Rebecca content to enjoy her evening with Patrick.

She opened the front door, trying hard not to inhale the freshly showered scent of the man standing before her—he smelled of soap, with the faint scent of clean cologne, as well as something else darker and distinctively male.

He took up the entire doorway, his large shoulders looking as if they'd barely fit through her doorframe without him turning sideways. It was strange how on the beach that had seemed perfectly normal, but here, in her home, he was larger than life. Her eyes scanned over him, taking in his black polo shirt and neatly-pressed khakis. He looked healthy and fit, but there was also something virile and powerful emanating from him. He gave off energy without even moving, the strength of his muscular, male body undeniable even at rest.

Her eyes swept to the side, noticing a silver SUV parked on the road. Patrick's own black SUV was parked in her driveway—at least she assumed that was his. The other vehicle had been there one or two nights during the week but always disappeared when she left her home.

"Everything okay?" Patrick asked, sensing her unease.

Rebecca shook her head. "I'm sure it's nothing, but I keep seeing that car around here. It's not any of my neighbors, but this must be the third time I've seen it this week."

Patrick's eyes narrowed, and he reached out, his large hand gently clasping her forearm. "Wait here. Lock the door, and don't open it until I come back."

"What? Why?"

He leveled her with a stern gaze, and without knowing entirely why, she stepped back and shut the door as he asked, watching from the window as he walked down the driveway and toward the other vehicle. It took off in a hurry once the driver realized Patrick was headed their way. Not that Rebecca blamed them—if she'd seen Patrick approaching, she'd probably get out of there, too. As quickly as possible.

He watched them drive down her street before finally returning, looking fierce with the scowl on his face as he ambled up her driveway. His face was like stone, his blue eyes ice. She stood there in her foyer, waiting until Patrick knocked on her door.

"Rebecca? It's me," he said, somewhat unnecessarily, as she'd been watching the entire scene through the window.

She opened the door and invited him in. "Did you see who it was?"

"No, they drove away too quickly, but I memorized the plate. I can have some friends run it later."

"Oh, do you think that's really necessary?"

"You mentioned those hang-ups at your office the other week, and I saw that strange guy taking your picture on the beach. If you've seen this car a few times around your house, that makes me suspicious."

"It's probably just a coincidence though, right?"

"Most likely," he agreed. "I'll check it out for you though, just in case."

"Okay, uh, thanks," Rebecca said, feeling uncertain. She didn't want Patrick to get into trouble, digging into things he had no business looking into. But it was his job to protect people, so he probably just felt some ingrained sense of duty to keep an eye out for trouble. She had felt slightly unnerved seeing the same car there several nights this week. Her neighbors didn't know who it was either, and she had a daughter to protect.

When she'd spotted the SUV there a couple of nights ago, she'd had the strangest sense that she was being watched. It didn't make sense, but if Patrick wanted to look out for her, and it would give her a small sense of peace knowing who it was in the silver SUV, then who was she to stop him?

"So, I take it you like seafood, right?"

"Yes, but how'd you know that?"

"The restaurant I spotted you at that first night," he replied, his blue eyes warmer than she'd ever seen them. "When you and Abby were eating out on the patio."

Rebecca smiled. "That's right. You have a good memory. And I love seafood."

"Perfect. I already have a place in mind to take you to dinner. Are you ready to go?"

"Absolutely."

***

Patrick took Rebecca's hand as they walked out the front door. She'd seemed surprised, but it felt perfectly natural to take her much smaller hand in his. It was soft and warm, and he liked keeping her close.

Aside from that, he'd felt uneasy at the car that had sped away earlier. Rebecca had said the same car had been there two other nights this week. If Patrick didn't know better, he'd say someone was casing the neighborhood. Hopefully the sight of him in their rear-view mirror had freaked them out enough to stay away, but he'd still run the plates to see what he came up with. Between that and the hang-ups she'd received at her office, you couldn't be too careful.

Until then, holding Rebecca's hand was about all he could do to assure himself she was okay. He couldn't exactly pull her into his arms—they barely knew one another, and he didn't want to frighten her away.

He helped her into the car, his hands lingering longer than necessary at her slim waist as he guided her into his large SUV. She flushed at his touch, and another spark of interest surged through him at her reaction. He'd never met a grown woman who seemed to blush as much as she did, and damn if he didn't like it. She was independent, confident, and successful at her career, but something about the way she reacted in his presence had male pride swelling within him.

And that wasn't the only thing rising, if the tightening of his pants served as any indication. He'd always taken charge in the bedroom, not necessarily dominating his women so much as taking the lead. Her reactions had him believing she'd submit to him beautifully. He didn't harbor any dark desires but felt that it was a man's role to take charge and pleasure a woman. And hell if he didn't want to pleasure her in every way imaginable. She was small and feminine, and the idea of holding her in his arms, feeling her beneath him, and having Rebecca cry out his name as she came had him instantly hard.

He eased himself into the driver's seat, trying to reign himself in. Just because he'd immediately bedded women in the past didn't mean that's how it would play out this evening. She had a young daughter to care for. Although he hadn't seen Abby in the house, he assumed Rebecca would need to pick her up later tonight. And Rebecca wasn't exactly some young and foolish woman he'd picked up at a bar, one who had every intention of letting him have his wicked way with her.

Although he longed to sink himself deeply into her tight heat more than he cared to admit, he'd take things slowly. They'd enjoy a nice dinner together, and if she had a good time, he'd ask to see her again. Despite his notions of never committing to a relationship again, he wanted to know more about Rebecca. He cared for her, although his mind told him it was much too soon to be feeling sentiment like that.

He wanted her, yes, in every way that a man could desire a woman. But he felt protective around her, too. Rebecca's husband had been killed last year, and just as he'd watched his own ex-wife pass away, he knew it wasn't easy to recover from something like that. He'd known his ex-wife was dying, but for Rebecca to have her husband snatched away from her family in the blink of an eye? That couldn't be something that was easy to reckon with, and he'd do anything he could to shield her from that kind of pain. The fact that he enjoyed the pleasure of her company just made it all that sweeter.

"I dropped Logan off at his grandparents' house," Patrick said casually as they pulled out of the neighborhood.

"Are they close by?"

"Yes, they're right here in Virginia Beach. He was excited to spend the night getting spoiled by them."

"Abby's at her grandparents' house, too. They live in Williamsburg," she added, almost as an afterthought.

Patrick tucked that piece of information away in the back of his mind. Williamsburg was an hour away, so it was unlikely Rebecca would pick up her daughter tonight. He wasn't due to get Logan until tomorrow, so that meant they had as long as they wanted to enjoy one another's company this evening.

He immediately began to alter his plans for the night, thinking a walk on the beach might be nice after their dinner. Earlier he'd had visions of rushing her home, which he understood, but he was pleased to know they could spend more time together. And if a walk along the beach led to something more? Hell, he'd be more than okay with that, too.

After navigating through the streets, he pulled up to a small seafood restaurant that he'd frequented over the years. It was more upscale than hole-in-the-wall but off the main drag and therefore not popular with the tourists. They had the best seafood around, and he was looking forward to sharing a meal with Rebecca.

They ordered appetizers and a bottle of white wine, which they shared as they talked in the candlelight. By the time the waiter brought out their meals, Patrick felt more comfortable with Rebecca than he'd been with anyone in a long time. Of course he had the guys on his SEAL team, who he trusted implicitly, but they had a different type of camaraderie. They had each others' backs and joked around and fought like brothers. They certainly didn't sit around having heart-to-hearts as the sun set in the background.

The light gleaming in from the window cast golden beams that bounced off of Rebecca's waves, and Patrick reached across the table and touched one under the guise of moving it off her face. Rebecca watched him, enraptured, and he suggested they walk out on the pier behind the restaurant.

He took her hand as they strode out over the water. The sun had finally sunk below the horizon, and the ocean lapped at them below, dark and unknown. It comforted him, soothed him, hearing the sound of the water beneath them. The farther they walked out onto the pier, however, the more agitated Rebecca seemed to become. She looked around, nervously, as Patrick tried to ascertain what the problem was.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Rebecca." He turned her to face him and backed her against the wooden railing, resting his arms on either side of her, effectively caging her in with his body.

"No, don't!" she said, pushing against his chest with shaking hands. He instantly backed away, startled by her reaction, and ducked his head lower to see into her eyes.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking. "Let's just walk back to the restaurant."

"Did I do something to upset you?"

"No, it's just—" she cut herself off and glanced around, looking like she was trying not to cry. He didn't understand what had upset her and was afraid to reach out and comfort her since she hadn't reacted well to him trapping her between him and the railing moments ago. He'd had visions of stepping in closer, stealing a kiss, but she'd pushed him back.

"I just don't like being over the water," she admitted.

"The water?" he asked, puzzled. They were standing on a pier over the ocean, but it never occurred to him as something to be frightened of. He thought _his_ actions had somehow scared her. Maybe she couldn't swim and that's why she was upset? Or had a fear of heights?

They were barely a few feet above the ocean, though, so that didn't seem entirely plausible. And she'd loved going to the beach last week. Certainly she should realize that she was safe with him. He was a SEAL trained by the U.S. Navy. Was there anyone she could be safer with near any body of water?

"My husband was killed last year in a car crash—his car flew off the bridge from the impact of the accident, and it took dive teams several days to recover his body. It's crazy, but I just hate driving over bridges now or even being out over the water like this. If something happened, if somehow I got hurt, too, then Abby would have no one...."

"Rebecca," Patrick said, running his hands lightly down her arms. "Do you think I'd ever let anything happen to you?"

She looked up at him, and it absolutely slayed him to see the fear and uncertainty there. She wanted to trust him, he could tell, but the fear she'd lived with for an entire year wasn't about to be abated in one moment.

"Come here," he said gently, pulling her into his arms. He inhaled the sweet scent of her floral shampoo and tried not to groan aloud as her lush body pushed up against his. She tucked into him so perfectly, her body fitting against his own. He hadn't allowed himself to feel anything close to this since his divorce, but hell if he didn't love the feeling of holding Rebecca safe and secure in his arms. The trembling in her small frame subsided as he tightened his arms around her, and he felt a surge of male pride at being able to provide her such basic comfort and protection.

"How about we go walk on the beach instead?" he asked, dipping his head low so that his lips brushed against her ear. "Would that be okay?"

She shivered again, but this time he knew it was from his breath across her skin, not her somewhat irrational fear of falling into the dark water below.

"I'd like that," she said softly.

He stepped back, gazing at her a moment, and then dipped his head down, kissing her softly, reverently. She tasted inexplicably of strawberries and the crisp white wine they'd enjoyed with dinner. Her lips were soft and full, and she gave herself over to him, allowing him to control their kiss. She let out a soft sigh when he finally drew back and met his intense gaze. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling in earnest, and he knew that she had been just as affected as him. As he searched her eyes, he realized that he never wanted to kiss another woman again.

#  Chapter 10

Rebecca sat silently in the car as Patrick drove them back toward the boardwalk. She felt more than a little foolish for acting so silly back on the pier at the restaurant. Who freaked out while walking on a secure structure only a few feet above the water? She knew how to swim; she'd enjoyed being on or near water for her entire life. And Patrick was a freaking SEAL for crying out loud. She was safer with him than anyone, even though she was in fact a strong swimmer herself.

But ever since the accident, she'd been afraid of bridges or even being over the water, especially at night. It was dark and filled with the unknown. She knew that it was silly and irrational, but imagining her late husband unable to escape from the car and drowning as dark water poured in from all sides had kept her awake on more nights than she cared to admit.

Patrick had acted like a perfect gentleman when she'd panicked. He'd listened to her fears, offered to take her elsewhere. He'd even reassured her that she was safe with him. And that kiss. Wow. No matter what happened between them, where this night led, that would live on in her memories forever.

"I'm sorry about earlier. You must think I was overreacting."

"Of course not," Patrick disagreed. "Everyone around here heard about that accident. And I know I mentioned it previously, but I'm sorry about your husband. No one should have to go through that."

"No, they shouldn't," Rebecca quietly replied.

"I take it you and Abby weren't in the car?"

"No, thankfully not. He'd been called in to assist on a surgery in Norfolk and was driving home alone late at night. Abby was sound asleep at home in bed, thank God."

Patrick reached over and took her hand, his large, warm one wrapping around her own. She smiled, grateful for the contact, small as though it was. He gently wove his fingers through her own, clasping her hand more tightly, connecting them even more. She liked the strong, sure grip of his thick fingers woven between hers. The strength emanating from him. It was comforting and reassuring, and she loved that he was solid and real.

"Are you still okay to go for a walk on the beach?" he asked quietly. "I'd like to spend more time with you."

"I'd like that."

"What time do you need to get Abby?"

"She's staying at her grandparents for the night."

"All right."

He didn't add anything else, but the unspoken suggestion of their evening continuing after their walk on the beach seemed to fill the air. The air practically crackled with electricity between them, the night still young, the possibilities endless. She felt young and carefree again, almost without the responsibilities that came along with being a grown-up.

She breathed in deeply, inhaling his clean, male scent. It filled the interior of the SUV, leaving her dizzy with a want she hadn't felt in a long time. Her stomach filled with butterflies as he squeezed her hand tighter. Did Patrick have similar thoughts?

They pulled up to a public parking garage near the beach, and Patrick rounded the vehicle to help her out. She let him lift her down from the large SUV, which was entirely unnecessary but felt good all the same. Rather than take her hand, he pulled her close against his frame, shielding her from the breeze blowing off the water as they headed down toward the boardwalk.

Rebecca felt the soft, piqued cotton of his shirt beneath her cheek. The warmth of his body. And beneath that, the solid muscles of his chest. His arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, and they walked slowly down the boardwalk together. Fire pits lit up the patios of restaurants dotting the beach, crowds of patrons gathered around them to enjoy drinks or a meal together. The boardwalk itself was lit with lampposts, softly lighting the path alongside the sand. And beyond that, the waves were crashing in the distance, the dark waters of the ocean churning. Even in the moonlight she could see the whitecaps as the water hit the shore. She shivered as a breeze blew off the ocean, and Patrick pulled her more tightly against his chest.

"I don't think that I told you I was divorced."

"Not exactly," she said with a gentle laugh. "I kind of assumed though, uh, with the way you reacted when I said I was a divorce lawyer."

She glanced up to see him looking at her curiously. "How did I react?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested in her response.

"You tensed up a little. Clenched your jaw. I've been around people enough in the courtroom to recognize when someone is uncomfortable. You learn to read people pretty quickly. Besides, most of the divorces that I handle aren't exactly amicable."

"That's why people seek you out."

"That's true. So do you have full custody of Logan? I noticed that you never mention your ex-wife."

"She died of cancer," Patrick said quietly.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. That must have been terrible for Logan."

"Yes. He was young, but he knew she was very ill. No kid should have to go through that."

"Absolutely not," Rebecca agreed.

They reached one end of the boardwalk at the north end of the beach and turned around by mutual consensus, slowly walking back the way that they'd come.

"It's strange how life works out," Rebecca finally said.

"I've seen a lot of terrible things in my years in the military, during the missions I've been on as a SEAL, but watching her die of cancer was one of the toughest things I've ever witnessed. Even though we were already divorced, she was still the mother of my son."

"You still cared about her."

"I did. My being a SEAL was tough on our marriage. It was too difficult for her, and after I returned from a mission, she told me that she was leaving."

"That's horrible." Rebecca had seen so many people give up on marriage, but with the women she'd encountered who'd married men who cheated on them or lived double lives, it was tough to imagine someone divorcing Patrick just because it was too hard when he was gone. He was an honest, real man. A good father. He fought for his country and defended those who couldn't defend themselves. It was hard to imagine how anyone could find fault with that.

"It is what it is."

They passed a tent that a young couple was pitching at the quieter end of the beach, and Patrick chuckled to himself. Rebecca glanced up at him and grinned.

"I'm sure you were that young and foolish once," she teased.

"Agreed. I'm much more selective now," he said, his voice growing husky.

"Is that so?"

Patrick turned so that Rebecca was facing him and bent down slowly. She felt trapped in his heated gaze, unable to move away, and at the same time, not wanting to be anywhere else. Her heart pounded as he bent down, and a second later, his hot mouth was on hers. He kissed her softly, gently at first, and then his tongue lightly traced her lips, seeking entrance.

She opened her mouth to him, and his tongue slid inside, sweeping through her mouth, claiming her. His large hands slid to her waist, and he pulled her tightly against him so that she could feel his arousal against her belly. Desire pooled at her center, and she pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache building inside. Her breasts lightly rubbed against his chest as he held her close, and she could feel her nipples peak beneath the blouse that she wore.

Patrick groaned in approval, evidently feeling her body's response even through their layers of clothes. There was no one else around near this quiet end of the boardwalk, and his hands slid around to her backside, palming her bottom. He squeezed lightly, and she ground herself against him, desperate for the feel of his rock-solid body against hers. He lowered his mouth to her neck, his lips hot on her skin. She gasped as his teeth grazed her tender flesh, arching against him and inadvertently pushing her breasts even further against his chest.

"Rebecca."

She looked up, meeting his intense gaze as he pulled slightly away from her. His hands returned to her hips, and his thumbs traced gentle circles there, driving her crazy with want. His cool blue eyes looked almost gray in the low light, but they shone with sincerity. "I don't want to suggest anything that you're not comfortable with, but what do you think about getting an oceanfront room for the night?"

She opened her mouth in immediate protest, but he continued.

"I promise not to do anything you don't want. I'd be happy just falling asleep with you in my arms, listening to the ocean, and waking up to a sunrise over the beach together. I'm not ready to say goodnight to you just yet though."

When he put it that way, it did sound hard to resist. A night in Patrick's arms sounded like heaven. She wasn't sure how far she wanted to take things, just yet, but if he was content to let her set the pace, then she had no need to worry. Besides, since she lived in the area, she never stayed in a hotel right on the beach. There was no need to. Although most hotels would be booked solid for the summer, it was still early in the season, and they could probably find a room fairly easily from one of the many hotels that dotted the beach. Unless Patrick had already assumed they'd get a room? Patrick saw the question in her eyes and immediately put her at ease.

"I didn't book anything yet, I swear. I thought you'd have to get back to Abby tonight. But the thought of holding you in my arms all night sounds too good to resist."

He ran one hand up her side, lightly skimming the side of her breast, and she inhaled at his gentle caress.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. Let's stay here tonight."

#  Chapter 11

Patrick bit out a curse as the first two hotels he quickly looked up on his smart phone had no occupancies for the evening. Rebecca stood off to the side, arms wrapped tightly around herself as she watched the water. Once Patrick had gotten the idea of spending the night with her in his mind, he couldn't let go of the notion. Hell, he'd take her back to his place if he had to, and he hadn't brought a woman there once since his divorce.

He'd been with women, yes, but not in his own bed. The idea of Rebecca there made him want to roar in approval, but that would have to wait for a later date. Because when she was there in his bed, beneath his sheets, there was no way he'd be able to stop himself from claiming her as his own.

He'd go as far as she wanted tonight, content with whatever she gave to him. He hadn't been joking about wanting to spend the night with her in his arms, listening to the waves crash outside their window. Few things soothed him like the water did, but something about Rebecca's presence eased him as well. But if he took her back to his house? He knew he wouldn't ever want her to leave.

After lucking out on his third try, he whisked Rebecca down the boardwalk to a luxury hotel right on the oceanfront. He'd booked a king-sized suite, complete with a balcony overlooking the ocean and whirlpool in the room. As soon as they entered, he turned on the water, filling the large hot tub until the water was steaming. He turned on the jets a moment later and glanced up at Rebecca.

"I thought maybe we could relax in here."

"I didn't bring a suit."

"Neither did I," he said with a grin.

He could sense her uncertainty but knew that if he got in, she'd join him. Hell, she'd agreed to spend the night with him. And he had nothing to be ashamed of—he worked hard for his body, doing hours of PT with his team. Rebecca was obviously attracted to him. He'd be patient with her—to some extent. But the woman was absolutely gorgeous, and he knew when he'd kissed her earlier that she'd been just as aroused as him.

He dipped his head low, kissing her deeply, before walking over and opening the doors to the balcony. Rebecca followed him there, gazing out at the dark ocean beyond as they listened to the waves crash against the shore.

"It's beautiful."

"Yes, you are."

He pulled off his shirt, turning away from Rebecca as she blushed, and quickly stripped off his remaining clothes, offering her a view of his backside. His erection thrust out before him, and he knew she'd be alarmed if she saw just how aroused he already was. He stepped into the hot tub, groaning as the jets pounded against his muscles as he sank into the built-in seat.

Glancing back at Rebecca, he almost laughed. Her jaw had almost comically dropped at his disrobing, and she gaped at him. The hint of a blush was still spreading across her cheeks, but he could see desire pooling in her brown eyes. Her nipples were taut against the thin blouse that she wore, and he knew she was as turned on right now as he was.

"Care to join me?" He turned so that his back was facing her, feeling a certain sense of chivalry at her unease. Not that he didn't fully intend to explore every inch of her later. He was dying to examine all those womanly curves hidden beneath her clothing with his fingertips—followed shortly after by his tongue. But he'd let her get comfortable for now. "I won't even watch you undress. The vision I have in my mind is pretty spectacular though."

Rebecca laughed, and he heard the rustle of fabric as her clothes fell to the ground. He forced himself to look straight ahead until she slipped into the water beside him, and he finally hastened a glance her way, just catching sight of the top swells of her breasts as she sank into the water.

Rebecca surprised him, coming to sit right at his side. For a woman who'd seemed shy about him watching her a moment ago, she didn't seem at all reserved now that they were in the hot tub together.

"Sorry," she said unnecessarily. "I just needed a moment."

"You're well worth the wait," he said, smiling down at her.

Her lips parted as she gazed up at him, and arousal filled her eyes. He felt himself harden even more, and he tilted her chin up toward him, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. She moaned softly as his tongue darted into her mouth, and he allowed his hand to softly caress her side before sliding it up to palm her breast. Unable to resist, his other hand slid there as well. The globes of her full breasts were barely contained in his large hands, and he squeezed and caressed them, needing to touch her as much as he needed his next breath.

His thumbs found her nipples, rubbing back and forth, and they peaked beneath his touch. He longed to see all of her, to rake his eyes over all that soft skin and those womanly curves. Without hesitation, he reached around her slender waist and pulled her onto his lap. His arousal pushed against her ass, and she jolted in surprise, before grinding herself enticingly against him.

"Rebecca," he breathed, bending down to capture one rosy nipple in his mouth. She cried out as he sucked hard on the rigid peak. Alternating gentle flicks of his tongue with small nips of his teeth, she moaned as she writhed on his lap. He was growing harder by the second, and he hadn't even seen all of her yet. Her breasts were so sensitive though, he didn't want to stop what he was doing.

"Can you come just from my playing with your nipples?" he asked huskily.

"I, I don't know," she gasped.

"I need to see all of you," he said, suddenly standing. He righted her and turned, ready to guide her out of the hot tub. The jets of water pulsed against them, and just as he grabbed her hips from behind to help her out, she cried out as the water aligned perfectly with her swollen sex. He towered above her, his own erection pressing against her lower back, but the spray hit her sensitive folds perfectly. Locking one arm around her lower hips like a vice, he guided her closer.

"Oh God," she gasped, arching back against him.

He slid his other hand over her firm, round ass, tracing the seam of her all the way until he reached her front. His fingers delved into her folds, and he realized she was already drenched, slickened with her own arousal.

"Fuck, Rebecca, you're so wet." He caressed her for a moment, feeling the silkiness between his fingertips, and then slid two fingers into her core, pulsing them slowly in and out of her molten center. He nudged one leg between her thighs, opening her further to him, and then eased her up against his solid frame. She was trapped, pinned to him as his fingers impaled her, her sweet ass against his rock-hard erection. The jets aligned with her center even more perfectly from the angle at which he held her, and she cried out as he moved closer to the pulsating spray.

"Patrick, I'm going to come," she sobbed, her voice wrought with pleasure.

"I want you to come, sweetheart. I'm going to tease and pleasure you all night long."

Her breathing increased, her chest rising and falling frantically, and she seemed even more aroused by his words. He worked his fingers faster within her tight channel, stretching her to accommodate him, and felt her walls beginning to clamp down around him.

"Patrick!" she screamed, bucking wildly in his arms. She thrust down on his fingers again and again, and when he sensed it was too much, he turned her away from the pulsing jets, her walls still spasming around him. He slowly withdrew and then bent down, scooping her into his arms. Her body glistened with droplets of water as he carried them out of the hot tub, and she shivered at the sudden change in temperature.

"Shhh, baby, I'll keep you warm." He grabbed a towel from the dresser and gently set her down, toweling her off. "Come to bed with me," he instructed, kissing her softly as he backed her toward the giant king-sized bed that dominated the room. The backs of her knees hit the mattress, and he reached down, lifting her onto the bed as he collapsed down on top of her.

His mouth was on hers in an instant, his hard body covering hers, and her hands raked over his head as she held him to her. He felt the bite of her nails against his scalp and knew she was just as desperate for him as he was for her. She trembled, whether from the cold or desire, he couldn't tell.

He needed her like he needed air. He needed to kiss her and pleasure her again—with his mouth and his tongue, with his cock seated deeply inside her. He wanted to claim her and make her his, to hear his name on her lips, and to sink so deeply inside that tight little channel that both of them would forget where he stopped and she began.

#  Chapter 12

Patrick's large body covered hers completely. He was solid and firm, with muscles so hard they felt like they'd been chiseled from granite. It had been so long since she'd felt the weight of a man atop her that the sensations of his hard, male body dominating hers were almost foreign. His hot mouth was on hers, moving lower toward her neck as he nipped and sucked at her. Her breasts pressed into his solid chest, her nipples aching as they rubbed against his skin. His thick arousal pressed against her thigh, and she was desperate for him to take her, to fill the emptiness inside that only he could ease.

He reached her breasts, kissing the swells of them softly before sucking at her nipples with renewed fervor.

"Patrick," she gasped, arching into him.

"I want to make you come just like this," he growled, gently tugging one bud between his teeth.

"No, I need you...inside me," she gasped.

He flicked his tongue rapidly over her nipple, causing her to cry out. "Patrick, please," she begged desperately, her hips bucking up off the bed. The 'please' that she uttered was his undoing, because he stopped, gazing at her in a lust-filled haze.

Patrick shifted and knelt before her, grasping her hips and pulling her onto his lap until his erection brushed against her sensitive folds. He rubbed himself back and forth through her wet lips, maintaining steady control as she moaned.

"How do you want me?" Patrick asked, his voice low.

"Slow and deep," she murmured as the tip of his erection penetrated her.

His thick length slowly plunged into her, filling and stretching her inch by painstaking inch, until she was completely impaled by him. He stroked her this way for a moment, his throbbing arousal rubbing against every nerve ending as her walls clenched around him. It was a tight fit—he stretched and filled her completely, an intimate invasion of his body into her own smaller one, and for the first time in her life, she felt completely whole, as if Patrick was the piece that had been missing all along.

She was completely vulnerable to him in this position. Their sexes were joined as he held her on his lap, her legs spread wide to accommodate his broad form. He gazed down at her bare breasts hungrily, desire deepening his blue eyes. He made love to her slowly, building her up as he thrust into her again and again, until it was almost too much to bear. The exquisite pressure of him filling her was simultaneously too much and not nearly enough.

He brushed his thumb across her sensitive bundle of nerves, igniting every nerve ending in her body. Moving his thumb lower, he spread her arousal over the sensitive bud, each stroke of his sending flashes of white light right through her.

"I can see how aroused you are," he said, his voice dark with desire.

"Yes," she gasped as he moved his thumb back and forth, sending more waves of pleasure through her that she felt all the way down to her toes. She pulsed with awareness, every touch of his sending her higher and higher. Her entire body was under his command, her very soul being held in his capable hands. This man wanted to dominate her, to please and sate her, and she was helpless to her body's response to him.

"Say my name," he commanded.

"Oh!" she gasped, as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

She was helpless to the onslaught of pleasure. He was stroking her so deeply inside she knew she'd never be the same again without this man. He wasn't just making love to her, he was claiming her, reaching depths inside that she'd never felt before. Her inner walls began to clench around him, milking him as she gave herself over to the onslaught of pleasure. He was like a freight train chasing down her orgasm, and she had no way of stopping him—nor did she want to.

"Rebecca." He moved his thumb more quickly over her clit, and she arched up toward him, unable to stop the beginning of her climax brought forth by his expert touch. "Tell me who you belong to."

"Patrick!" she screamed, clutching onto the comforter as she exploded. She bucked wildly on his lap, unable to control her body's reaction as Patrick wrought every last ounce of pleasure from her, taking her deeper, harder, faster now. She'd never come that hard before, never had a man take her to such heights, and she swore that she could actually see stars.

Patrick's eyes darkened with approval and male satisfaction. He thrust into her once, twice, and impossibly hardened even more, emptying himself deep inside of her.

He slowly withdrew, and before she could even get her wits about her, he was lifting her off his lap and placing her gently down on the bed. He stretched out on top of her, capturing her wrists in one large hand and lifting them above her head, pinning them to the mattress. "So gorgeous," he murmured, allowing his other hand to skim over her breasts before reaching her still-swollen sex.

He rubbed her aching clit, and she was shocked to feel arousal already building within her once more. Aligning his already throbbing erection with her center, he slowly pushed into her again. He gently grasped one of her legs in his other arm, bending her knee and pushing it up as he opened her more fully to him. She gasped as he sank in until he was balls deep inside her, the tip of his erection reaching all the way to her cervix.

He began thrusting slowly, sensuously, and she helplessly clenched her hands into fists as he held her in position. He nipped at her neck, kissing and sucking her gently, and she inhaled the clean, masculine scent of him. His soap, cologne, everything, was mixed up in his own musky scent. She knew she'd smell of him in the morning, of the distinct aroma that was pure Patrick. And with the way he was currently devouring her, taking her, she wanted him to fill and possess her in every way imaginable.

"Patrick," she moaned softly as waves of desire again begin to build deep within. She'd come faster this time, she knew, having just climaxed only minutes ago. He thrust into her more quickly, the base of his penis rubbing up against her clit each time he sank deep inside her core. His large, muscular arm banded more tightly around the leg that he held, holding her open to him, and she screamed at her release, her body his for the taking.

She was Patrick's, mind, body, and soul. She'd given him everything, let herself open up to a man in a way she never had before.

She didn't think she'd ever be the same again.

***

Rebecca awoke the next morning to Patrick's large body wrapped protectively around hers. One of his arms was beneath her head, cradling her as she slept, and the other wrapped snuggly around her waist, tucked beneath her hip as if to prevent her from going anywhere. Like she wanted to be anywhere but in his powerful embrace.

True to his promise in the hot tub, Patrick had pleasured her again and again last night. They'd made love slowly and leisurely on the bed, with him covering her body with his own much more powerful one. He'd taken her from behind as they'd gazed out over the ocean, hidden by the darkness of their room. The sounds of the waves crashing on the beach as Patrick had powerfully released inside of her was a moment that she'd never forget. He was as big and powerful as the ocean, surrounding and overwhelming her, yet also holding her up as she floated, more relaxed and content than she'd ever been.

Finally she'd climbed atop him in the bed, riding his shaft as he guided her up and down, his hands tightly gripping her hips. Even from beneath her, he'd managed to control their lovemaking, to take her pleasure. To make her cry out his name in ecstasy once more. She'd collapsed against his chest in exhaustion after he'd made her come yet again, and she'd fallen asleep with him still deep inside of her.

Sometime throughout the night Patrick had tucked her against him, enfolding her in his muscular arms and acting as her own personal blanket. He was hard and solid behind her, the epitome of strength and masculinity. He also held her so closely to him, so protectively, that she wondered how she'd ever be able to sleep a night again without Patrick at her side.

He shifted behind her, awakened by her stirring, and she felt his arousal pressing against her lower back. His erection was heavy and thick, and she knew with only a few careful movements, he could be deep inside her again. She grew wet just thinking about it.

"Good morning," he said, his voice low and deep.

"Good morning," she said softly, attempting to turn in his arms to face him. He held her in place though, gently lifting her thigh with one strong hand and moving forward a few inches to take her again.

His solid erection slowly penetrated her, eased by her still-slickened walls from an unforgettable night of lovemaking. He thrust into her softly, gently, his fingers swirling over her clit. She didn't think it was possible for her to come so quickly, but within a few seconds of his expert touch, she was arching back, her walls clenching around him, and her orgasm exploding within her.

Patrick pumped into her a few more times before impossibly hardening even more and chasing down his own release. His thrusts grew more powerful, and he held her tightly to him as he groaned her name and emptied his seed deep inside her. When he finally withdrew, he turned her around in his arms and pulled her against his chest.

She closed her eyes and fell back asleep against him, the beating of his heart against her cheek lulling her into a gentle slumber.

#  Chapter 13

Patrick changed into his PT gear on Monday morning, heading toward base for training with the rest of his team. His head was completely out of the game though, which meant he was fucked, because having your mind on something other than your training or the mission was how accidents happened. How men got killed. And he had to be focused on the drills they had scheduled for later in the morning.

They'd get in their regular workout first and then change into Scuba gear to do some dives offshore. A storm was coming in, and their CO wanted them to get in a dive out in the choppy waters of the Atlantic. They had to be prepared for all scenarios when they deployed, so it hadn't come as a surprise to any of the men that they'd undergo this training regimen today. It was unfortunate for Patrick, though, since he couldn't keep his mind off of Rebecca.

He'd dropped his son off at school earlier and gone through the regular morning routine in their household, but his mind was a million miles away. Rebecca had blown him away, literally and figuratively. He'd been attracted to her when they chatted the first time they'd officially met, and he'd thoroughly enjoyed spending time with her on the beach and taking her out to dinner. But that night they spent together? She'd completely obliterated him, knocking down all of his defenses and somehow managing to steal another little piece of his heart.

And the crux of it all? She had absolutely no idea of the effect that she had on him. It was a refreshing change from women content on playing games. She'd decimated him with barely a glance his way, stealing his breath and working her way into his heart.

Aside from that, the woman was a freaking goddess in the bedroom, keeping up with his insatiable appetite for sex and allowing him to drive her to higher and higher heights of pleasure every time he'd taken her. Hell, he hadn't even pleasured her in all the ways that he'd wanted. When he'd pulled her lush body onto his lap before they made love for the first time, she'd been so pink, wet, and swollen for him. He was dying to taste her, to run his tongue through her folds, savoring all her sweet juices.

Rebecca had seemed as desperate as he was to take him inside her though, and once his throbbing cock had been pushing against her entrance, there was no place else he wanted to be. Another time he'd taste her, lick her completely senseless, letting her come on his mouth and his tongue. Another night he'd bend her over the bed, taking her from behind as he massaged her full breasts. Fuck. Just imagining it had him as hard as steel.

He drove onto base, flashing his military ID at the gates before joining the rest of his men in the weight room. He was on time, but they'd arrived early, and hell if he didn't hate being the last man there. All eyes were on him as he walked into the room, and he nodded at his men as way of greeting.

"Ice, I never heard back from you," Christopher called out when Patrick approached the other guys.

"This weekend?" Patrick asked, scanning the free weights before he began his lifting regimen for the morning. He'd start with those, followed by the bench press, and then he'd work on his quads. What he really wanted to do was go for a long run, pounding out his frustration and pent-up sexual energy. Envisioning scenarios in the bedroom involving Rebecca had adrenaline pumping through him, and he had to get his mind back on the day's training.

"Yeah, we met up at Anchors on Friday night," Matthew said, grunting as he bench-pressed beside Patrick.

"I had plans," Patrick said, not offering further explanation.

"Does she have a name?" Evan joked.

"None of your damn business," Patrick muttered.

"What's wrong, Evan?" Brent joked. "You can't get a woman of your own and need to chase after Ice's sloppy seconds?"

"That's enough," Patrick said, shooting an icy glare at Brent as Matthew let out a low whistle beside him. They were in dangerous territory joking around about a woman he cared for, even if they didn't realize it yet.

Patrick had called in a favor with a buddy of his on the police force this morning, asking him to run the plates of the SUV he'd seen outside of Rebecca's on Friday night. Something wasn't sitting well with him—between the strange hang-ups at her office, the guy taking pictures of her on the beach a week ago, and the SUV that Rebecca had seen parked outside of her house, Patrick had a bad feeling. Someone was following her.

He hadn't wanted to scare her the other night, but first thing this morning, he'd called his friend at the Virginia Beach PD. After he got a name, he could compare it to the names of the plaintiffs at the recent cases at the courthouse. They were all a matter of public record, so it shouldn't be too hard to determine if there was a match. An uneasy feeling in his gut told him that was exactly what he'd find.

He assumed if anyone was indeed looking for Rebecca, it would be someone she'd faced off against in court. Divorce didn't exactly bring out the charitable side in people, and if Rebecca was as successful of a lawyer as he thought, she likely had made a few enemies—whether she realized it or not. The thought didn't sit well with him, and wasn't that a gut check. For a man used to being on his own, minding his own damn business, he was unable to get the gorgeous lawyer out of his mind. The fact that she had a young daughter, and they both got along so well with his own son, only added to her mysterious appeal. For a guy who'd sworn he'd live the rest of his life alone, a life with a woman like Rebecca at his side was starting to sound pretty damn appealing.

"So when's the wedding?" Christopher joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. "It's not like you to be so protective over a woman, Ice. Is it safe to assume she'll be the next Mrs. Foster?"

Patrick bit out a curse. He hadn't planned on bringing his guys into the loop, but maybe it was better for everyone's sakes if he brought them fully up to speed. Hopefully he could locate the perp and handle this on his own, but you never could be too careful. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and if the person looking for Rebecca felt like they'd been slighted or wronged because of some victory she'd had in court, he needed to do everything in his power to put an end to it. To protect her. If that included bringing in the rest of the guys on his SEAL team, then so be it. They looked out for one another like family, and if Patrick said the word, he knew they'd come to his aid immediately, looking out for Rebecca and her daughter like they were one of their own.

"I have been seeing a woman, but that's not the issue."

"What's the problem then, Ice?" Mike asked, looking concerned. The member of their team with the most medical training, Mike seemed to have a sixth-sense of knowing when something was going awry. Maybe it was honed from years of tending to injuries in the battlefield, needing to simultaneously pay attention to everything going on around them while maintaining a level head to provide emergency medical treatment. Maybe he was just more attuned to the goings-on of others and recognized when something was wrong. The bottom line was that if there was trouble, Mike was always among the first of the men to sense it.

"The woman I'm seeing, Rebecca, is a successful divorce attorney in the region. She's well-respected by her fellow lawyers and at her law firm but has likely made a few enemies over the years due to the success she's had for her clients. Vengeful ex-spouses and that sort of thing. There've been a few incidents lately that have me concerned, and I think she may have a stalker."

"Shit, man," Brent said, his eyes blazing in anger. "What do you need us to do?"

Brent's sister had been killed by a jilted ex-boyfriend years ago, and he didn't take the idea of a man stalking a woman lightly. None of them did. They were trained to protect others, and the idea of a man harming a woman was not something any of them would tolerate. Ever. Patrick knew that Brent's sister's death weighed on him heavily, because she'd been killed while Brent was deployed on a mission. The police had failed to provide her protection, which was all the more reason why Patrick was determined to see to it himself that whoever was watching Rebecca, stalking her, was stopped immediately.

"Seriously?" Christopher asked, dropping his weights and walking over to them. "That's messed up. Say the word, and we're there."

"Absolutely," the other men agreed.

Patrick let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He should have brought his guys in sooner—they'd have his back one hundred percent, regardless of whether they gave him a hard time about having a woman in his life again. Hell, if he couldn't trust those guys, then who _could_ he trust?

In the back of his mind, he realized that he'd simply been hoping he was wrong. That all those incidents were just coincidences and nothing more. If his years of military training had taught him anything, though, it was that nothing was a coincidence. Too many small things occurring in a short time frame that just didn't add up meant trouble. He'd wait to get the name of the SUV driver back from his cop buddy, but he was virtually certain—Rebecca had a stalker. One that knew where she lived and worked. And he'd do everything in his power to protect her.

#  Chapter 14

Rebecca sat down to lunch with Alison, eager to tell her about the night she'd spent with Patrick over the weekend. Her best friend had sensed that something was up by the excitement in Rebecca's voice when she'd called earlier, and Alison had convinced her to take a rare lunch outside the office. Normally the two met for dinner since Rebecca was usually tied to her desk catching up on cases from her massive workload or busy in court during the day, but some conversations just weren't meant to be had around a four-year-old dinner companion. Since she had a rare free day with no court hearings or meetings outside of the office, she'd happily agreed to lunch.

"So tell me," Alison said, sliding into the booth across from Rebecca at the Italian restaurant they'd chosen. "What's up? I can tell from the look on your face that it's good!"

Rebecca laughed, taking a sip of her iced tea. "Oh, it's good all right." She thanked the waiter for the breadsticks he set on the table and waited for him to walk away before continuing. After explaining that she'd run into one of the SEALs they'd noticed at dinner a few weeks ago, Rebecca caught her friend up on their encounter on the playground with the kids, the morning she'd spent at the beach with Patrick, and their dinner together on Friday night.

"So wait, the hottie that changed your tire is the one you ran into?"

"The very one. Abby and I ran into him at the playground not long after we saw them that night. He's got a kid."

"Divorced?"

"Yeah. But his ex-wife died. The whole story is really sad."

"Oh my God."

"Yeah, we didn't go into it that much, but he certainly gets where I'm coming from."

"So you guys met at the beach one weekend with the kids and then he took you out on a _date_ date?"

"A _date_ date?" Rebecca asked, a bemused look on her face. "He took me to dinner, yes...."

"Sweetie, the time you spent with the kiddos in tow were more like play dates. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's awesome that you all had a great time. But when a man picks you up for dinner? That is a _date_ date."

"Well, let's just say that as great as dinner was, it was not the highlight of the night."

"You slept with him!"

"Shhh," Rebecca chastised, looking around. All she needed were for potential clients to hear that their lawyer was sleeping around and come to the wrong conclusions. Or worse, for one of the judges down at the courthouse to hear about it.

Although she had as much right as anyone to be in a relationship, she certainly wasn't going to flaunt it to everyone within earshot. Or divulge the intimate details. Besides, it was none of their business anyway. She'd dealt with enough over the past year, and while everyone had sympathized with her over the tragic death of her husband, she was determined to keep her private life just that from now on—private.

"You slept with him," Alison whispered, a huge grin spreading across her face.

"We booked an oceanfront room and spent the entire night together," Rebecca said, a flush spreading across her face. Just thinking about her night with Patrick had her nipples tightening and arousal pooling between her thighs. The man was nothing short of amazing in bed. He clearly knew his way around a woman's body and had no qualms about showing her just how attracted to her he was. The sex had been spectacular, the stuff she'd only dreamed about before. No man had ever made her feel that way—simultaneously desired, protected, and cherished. As difficult as it had been to say goodbye to Patrick the next morning, she found herself fantasizing about when they could play out the entire night again—and as quickly as possible.

"And?" Alison prodded.

"And it was completely amazing."

Alison begged her for more details, but Rebecca only shared the bare minimum with her best friend. Some things were meant to be private, but she was certain that Alison got the gist of how spectacular their night together was.

When Patrick had driven her home the following morning, she'd practically been floating on cloud nine. They hadn't made plans to see each other again yet, but Patrick had promised that he'd see her soon. Without a doubt, she knew he was a man true to his word. He wasn't the type to give assurances that he had no intention of following through with.

Besides, it was tough to figure out how to date with the kids. The last time she'd been on an actual date, when she first met her husband, she'd been single and childless. Navigating the world of dating as a mother was an entirely different matter. She was happy to discover that the butterflies of those first date moments were still there though, as well as the magic and fireworks the first time you slept with a man.

Handling her attraction to Patrick around her daughter would be another matter entirely. If they all spent time together again, it would be difficult not kissing him or holding his hand. She wasn't sure she was ready to let her daughter know of her feelings yet though. It would be confusing enough to Abby and Logan seeing Patrick and her together, acting like a couple, and if for whatever reason things didn't work out, she didn't want the children to be caught in the middle. As hard as it would be, they'd have to pull off the "just friends" vibe for the time being for the sake of their kids. At least when all four of them were together. Which would make their next actual date all the more special.

"I'm so happy for you, Rebecca. After this past year, and everything you had to go through, I've been worried about you."

"Thanks. I really didn't think I could ever feel this way again. It's early, obviously, but our connection was incredible."

"So when do I get to meet this guy? And more importantly, does he have any single friends?"

***

Rebecca returned to the office happier than she'd felt in months. It had been great to share her excitement with Alison and to get out and enjoy a nice meal with her best friend. If her workload ever lightened up, she'd have to meet up with some of her friends for lunch more often. In the meantime, she had a stack of papers to get through this afternoon, and as difficult as it was, she'd need to put Patrick out of her mind and concentrate on her work.

She had a hearing tomorrow at the courthouse, and she wanted to be thoroughly prepared when she faced off with her adversary in a child custody hearing. She always felt bad when the kids were caught in the middle of their parents' troubles, and she'd do everything in her power to see to it that her client received full custody of her two young kids. She'd handled a similar case a few weeks ago, with the cheating husband receiving only limited visitation rights with his young daughter. He'd also been saddled with steep child support and alimony payments. The man had been angry and had to be subdued by the bailiff in the courtroom when the judge pronounced his ruling. His own lawyer had finally calmed him down, but he'd been shooting Rebecca and her client icy glares as they'd all exited the building. It was certainly no wonder why her client had left him.

When she returned to her desk, she was dismayed to see a note from her assistant that there'd been two more hang-ups while she'd been at lunch, the caller ID blocked. A hint of worry worked its way through her as she remembered the car outside of her house last week. Patrick had said he'd look into it for her, running the plates, but she didn't want to bother him when he surely had enough to do on base. She was certain he didn't have the legal authority to run random license plates, and she didn't want to cause any difficulties for him.

If he brought it up, she'd ask if he found out anything, but in the meantime, she might have to just let those unknown calls go straight to voicemail. Hopefully, she wouldn't lose any potential clients that way, but her assistant had seemed unnerved at all the calls with nothing but dead air on the other line.

If she didn't know better, it almost seemed like the calls were coming at different times throughout the day, as if someone was trying to determine when she was in the office. That was crazy, though, because if they wanted to speak with her or another attorney, they were getting nowhere by remaining silent on the other end of the line.

She had enough to worry about anyway, without wasting time on what was likely just a prank caller. Some people enjoyed getting others riled up, and if she was on the receiving end of one of those calls again, she'd simply disconnect. Eventually they'd get bored with their little game and move on, but in the meantime, she didn't have the time or patience to worry about it.

#  Chapter 15

Patrick let himself fall back off the small boat, diving down into the choppy waters. Two of his other men dropped into the water at the same time, while Matthew drove the boat and the others onboard guided the swimmers in the water. They were practicing rescue ops this afternoon, and their instructor was acting as one of the victims they were supposed to be saving. He thrashed wildly about in the ocean, playing a frantic citizen, and as Patrick swam over to offer his assistance, he captured Patrick in a choke-hold, pulling him under.

People in near-death situations were known to panic, and it was entirely likely that an actual drowning victim would act similarly. Rather than relaxing their body and allowing their rescuers—in this case, Patrick's SEAL team—to hold them up while swimming to safety, they latched on to them like a life preserver, pushing them under the water and doing anything necessary to keep their own head above water.

Patrick gripped his instructor's arms, which were like steel wrapped around him. Most men wouldn't necessarily be that strong, but as a trained SEAL, the instructor was every bit as powerful as Patrick. He wrestled with him for a moment, and finally Christopher swam over beside them. With each man grabbing one arm of the "victim," they were able to subdue him and safely swim with him back to the boat. Evan and Mike hauled him out of the water, Mike immediately checking his vitals, while Matthew stood at the controls.

"One minute, thirty-two seconds," the instructor said, glancing at his waterproof watch. "Not bad."

They conducted a few more rescue simulations, and after another hour, they were heading back to shore. The cold rain pelted down against all of them, the stormy waters churning below. Briefly, Patrick wondered what Rebecca would think if she knew about this particular training exercise. As terrified as she'd been standing on the pier the other night, he didn't see this sitting well with her. Anyone who was afraid to simply be over the water wouldn't be comfortable diving in it. Certainly she must realize that his job as a SEAL required him to frequently be out on the water, though, both in training and real-life scenarios. Hopefully he'd be able to eventually persuade her that she could be perfectly safe out on the water. It wouldn't be easy, but if anything, maybe he could at least help her to calm down enough so that she didn't instill those same fears in Abby.

Upon their return, Patrick and his men changed out of their wetsuits and back into civilian clothing. Patrick checked for messages on his cell phone and was happy to learn that his cop buddy had pulled a name from the plates that he ran. Patrick pulled up the listing of recent hearings at the courthouse and scanned through them. He wasn't sure how far back he needed to check but decided to start with those from this month and work backward. It was possible the man was holding a grudge from a court case long ago, but most likely, this had stemmed from a recent court decision. There was no telling how someone would act in a fit of rage, and if this guy felt he'd been wronged, he'd likely want to take out his aggression on either his ex-wife or Rebecca.

Patrick scanned through the hearings, wishing there were a way to sort them so that only Rebecca's cases were listed. He could always call her and simply ask for a list of her clients. Searching for those names would pull up the opposing counsel and their respective client as well. He didn't want to worry her any more than necessary though. It was always possible this name would match no one, and the driver of the SUV was simply a friend of one of her neighbors, his presence there pure coincidence.

However, the fact that he remained in his vehicle while parked on her street left him uneasy. Someone visiting a friend would be inside their house, not watching the neighborhood. He sure hadn't done a good job of hiding if he was after Rebecca—she'd noticed the vehicle several times.

After searching for ten minutes, Patrick was dismayed to see that the man's name matched one on a list of recent court cases. His blood boiled as he read the date of the hearing. Only three weeks ago, Rebecca had acted as the attorney for the man's spouse. It was likely another nasty divorce proceeding. Patrick knew Rebecca had an excellent track record, receiving what was fair for her clients. That meant she'd probably won a child custody for the mother or sizable alimony payments. Maybe her client had received a large number of assets or the family home. Something that was big enough to set off this angry man and lead him to search for Rebecca, stalking her outside her home and calling her place of business. One thing was for certain—the silver SUV parked on her street wasn't there by accident.

"Damn it," he muttered, pounding his fist down on the desk. It unnerved him that this man was following Rebecca but hadn't acted on anything yet. Was he planning something big? Waiting until he could be assured she was alone? At any rate, it wasn't safe for her to be alone in her home with Abby. Not when this guy clearly knew where they lived and was comfortable casing the house. As unhinged as he seemed to be, if he got a chance to hurt Rebecca, he'd likely act on it. Repeatedly calling her office and waiting on her street night after night weren't the actions of a sound man.

"What is it?" Mike asked, walking over to his side.

"Michael Hale. The ex-husband of one of Rebecca's clients. My buddy down at the precinct ran the plates for me, and this guy was outside of Rebecca's house last week. Multiple times."

"Fuck," Brent spat out. "Should we pay this guy a visit?"

"I'll handle it. Until I locate him, can one of you keep eyes on Rebecca? I need one man at her house and one at her office. I'll pull up the last known address for Michael Hale and track this mother-fucker down. He knows where Rebecca lives, and I'm not wasting another minute finding out what he's going to do next."

"We're on it," Christopher said. "Send me the address of her office building, and I'll head over there right now."

"I'll watch the house," Brent added, his voice cold. He'd sworn to protect his sister and failed, and Patrick knew he wouldn't let this guy so much as touch a hair on Rebecca's head.

"Are you letting Rebecca know about this?" Christopher asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Negative. I don't want her to be concerned. After we confront this guy and ensure he doesn't come near her again, I'll let her know that we've handled it. In the meantime, keep it on the down low."

"Roger that," Brent muttered, grabbing his keys.

"What is it?" Patrick asked, eyeing Mike. Although Mike hadn't said a word during the entire exchange, he'd been listening to the conversation, a pensive look on his face.

"Do you really think that's wise?"

"What?"

"Leaving her out of the loop like that."

"Fuck," Patrick spat out. "I don't need Rebecca chasing after this guy. She'd probably have his lawyer on the phone in less than a minute and chew him out for letting his client behave this way. All Michael Hale needs is a call from his attorney—this guy is pissed off at lawyers. He sure as shit isn't going to listen to one of them."

"For her own safety then," Mike pressed.

"Let me deal with it my way," Patrick said, his voice low. "I'll fill her in when this is over, but I don't want Rebecca unnecessarily worried about this."

Mike glared at him as the two men faced off, but since Rebecca was Patrick's responsibility and not Mike's, he stood down.

Relaying the necessary addresses and information to Christopher and Brent, Patrick did a quick search of public records, locating the last known address for Hale. He had a bad feeling that the only person he'd find there would be the guy's ex-wife, but maybe she'd know how to find him. If not, he had other ways of tracking him down. He was certain that this guy would show up at Rebecca's again, and this time, he or one of his men would be there to greet him.

#  Chapter 16

Rebecca was surprised when Patrick called asking if she and Abby wanted to join Logan and him for dinner that night. Didn't men have a thing about waiting a few days after a date to call? Technically, she supposed it had been three days since Friday night, but they'd spent Saturday morning together at the hotel.

The rest of the weekend had been a whirlwind, and between catching up on things at the office and enjoying lunch with Alison earlier, she was feeling rather behind at the moment. She still had to pick up Abby from school and get through some paperwork that evening. Not that she'd considered turning him down. She'd even offered to cook for Patrick and Logan, telling him about the tacos she'd planned to make that night, but he'd insisted on taking them out.

"Hi!" she called out happily when she spotted Patrick and his son seated at a table in the corner of the restaurant they'd chosen. Logan was playing a game on Patrick's smart phone and didn't look up, but Patrick stood in greeting.

"Hi," Patrick replied, glancing down at her with warmth in his normally cool blue eyes. She wanted to give him a hug or kiss but felt awkward with the children right there. He made no move to touch her either, and she felt a brief wave of disappointment wash over her. She'd just been thinking earlier today that she didn't want to confuse Abby or Logan, and here she was already changing her mind.

It was unusual to spend a night with a man and then act as if you were just friends the next time you saw him, she realized with chagrin. Being so close to Patrick yet simultaneously so far away was harder than she thought. She'd just have to make the best of it, because this was likely how things would be between them for the time being. Unless she wanted to explain to Abby and Logan all about relationships and dating, which she certainly didn't at this stage of the game.

"What's he playing?" Abby asked, climbing onto the chair beside Logan. That left Rebecca little choice but to slide into the booth next to Patrick. She could feel the warmth and heat radiating off his large frame as he sat beside her. He stretched one long arm onto the booth behind her, careful not to touch her, and smiled.

"I had a great time this weekend," he said in a low voice.

Fortunately Abby and Logan were both distracted for the time being, so Rebecca took a moment to smile up at him. He was wearing that cologne she loved, and briefly, she imagined the scent of him all over her skin again. Imagined his mouth moving over her body, his tongue trailing lines over her skin. She couldn't even fathom the next time they'd spend the night together at this point. It's not like she could send Abby off to her grandparents' every weekend, nor could Patrick do the same with Logan.

"So did I."

"I'm sorry we couldn't enjoy another quiet dinner alone just yet, but it's pretty hard to date when you have a young child, as I'm sure you're aware."

"Well, it's kind of new territory to me," Rebecca admitted.

Patrick raised his eyebrows.

"I mean, since my husband passed away, I haven't, uh, been with anyone."

Understanding flashed over his face. He reached for her hand beneath the table and squeezed it gently, his thick fingers weaving between her own smaller ones. "I guess I'm lucky you made an exception for me."

"Funny, I kind of feel like the lucky one," she said.

He let go of her hand and rested his on her bare thigh, letting it slide just under the hem of the sundress she'd worn. His large, warm hand against her bare skin had heat licking through her and arousal already pooling in her center. As she tried to divert her attention elsewhere, to concentrate on the kids or anything else, he began lightly tracing his fingers over her skin in lazy circles until she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She met his heated gaze, and a flush spread across her face. Fortunately the waiter walked over then, handing out their menus.

Patrick removed his hand but bent down to whisper into her ear. "I love watching the heat bloom over your skin."

She only blushed more, and he chuckled quietly beside her. Why she always reacted like a schoolgirl around Patrick was beyond her comprehension, but something about the way he teased her always had her blushing in a way no man had ever managed before.

"Mommy, I saw a spider," Abby said.

"Where?" Rebecca asked, looking around in confusion.

"On the playground today," she said matter-of-factly.

While Abby and Logan went on to discuss the spider, Rebecca laughed to herself. Her daughter was forever bringing up things that had happened hours or days before, seeming unconcerned when Rebecca had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

"Anyway," Patrick continued after the waiter had taken their order, "I hope this restaurant was okay for you and Abby."

"Are you kidding? This is one of Abby's favorite places."

"Same with Logan. I guess they know how to appeal to the kids."

"I have to admit, I was surprised to hear from you so soon."

Patrick laughed. "I would say then you've been dating the wrong men, but it sounds like that isn't the case."

"I dated my fair share of players before I met my husband. But don't get me wrong, I was happy you called."

"You'll always know where you stand with me," he said, his eyes blazing.

With as straightforward as Patrick had been, that didn't surprise her. He didn't play games, didn't mince words. He was matter-of-fact, from teasing her the first day they met to telling her exactly how their night at the hotel would play out. And had it.

A few minutes later the waiter brought over their dinner. As Rebecca helped Abby get her food in order, Patrick took his phone back from Logan. He briefly thumbed through his text messages and frowned.

"Is everything okay?" Rebecca asked, seeing his expression.

"Yeah, it's just a message from one of the guys on my team."

He set his phone down without further comment, leaving it face up to see any new incoming messages, and they dug into their meals. Rebecca bit into her cheeseburger, thinking that between this and her Italian lunch earlier, she'd have about a million calories to work off. A walk down the boardwalk later on with the kids might be nice, and she almost mentioned it to Patrick when Abby spoke.

"Mommy, when is that man coming back?"

Rebecca's blood ran cold as she stared at her daughter, a shiver snaking down her spine. "What man, sweetie?" she asked as calmly as she could, frozen in her seat. Her heart raced and blood pressure skyrocketed, giving her a strange sensation of thumping in her eardrums.

"He was there last week, in the yard. Remember when we were playing catch and I ran to get the ball?"

"Yes, I remember," Rebecca said, her voice shaking.

"Abby, what did the man say?" Patrick asked calmly. Rebecca knew he was trying not to scare her daughter, but she noticed the way he'd clenched his fists in anger as he waited for her response. He was reigning himself in, trying not to frighten them, but Rebecca was even more scared by his reaction, because she knew that her worry was not just in her head.

"He just wanted to know if you were my mommy. I told him we were playing, and he said he'd be back."

Rebecca's mouth dropped open, and she looked over at Patrick in a panic.

"I'll take care of this tonight," he said in a low voice.

"What? How?"

"You're just going to have to trust me."

"Are you mad, Mommy?" Abby asked, tears filling her eyes.

"Abby, honey, you know you're not supposed to talk to strangers. And if someone ever talks to you again, you need to tell me or another grown-up immediately."

"I'm sorry," she said, a tear falling down her cheek.

Rebecca rose from the table and engulfed her daughter in a big hug. "I'm not mad, but you have to promise to let me know the next time something like that happens. You never ever talk to strangers."

"I promise," Abby whispered.

Rebecca met Patrick's gaze, and she nervously swallowed. His face was set in stone, but she could tell his mind was working, calculating, analyzing this new information from every angle. He knew something, but she wasn't sure exactly what. There was no sense in further upsetting the children and discussing it anymore at the table, but a feeling of dread washed over her. Whoever had spoken to Abby had most likely been the mystery driver of the SUV—and they'd be back. Although Patrick had scared them off Friday night, she wasn't sure if that was enough to keep them away forever. She certainly wouldn't let Abby out of her sight until the situation has been resolved.

Rebecca returned to her seat but found that she'd lost her appetite. When Patrick picked up the check, she was too upset to even argue with him about his paying for it. She'd treat him and Logan another time, but for the moment, she just wanted to get home, lock all her doors, and tuck Abby into bed, ensuring no one could harm her.

Patrick sensed her unease, and he took her hand as they exited the restaurant. He walked Rebecca and Abby to their car and turned Rebecca to face him as Abby climbed into her car seat. Logan hopped up and down at his father's side, filled with the type of energy reserved only for six-year-old boys. He remained blissfully unaware of the fear surging through her, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. Patrick wiped it away with his thumb.

"I'll never let anything happen to you or Abby."

"We don't know who it is," Rebecca whispered, "or how to stop him. How can I watch out for an enemy I didn't even know that I had?"

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this," Patrick assured her. "Until then, I'll have one of my men watch your house at night. Or I'll be there myself."

"What? That's crazy. They'd never agree to that—I don't even know them."

"They already have."

"But why?"

"Because we're like brothers—like family. If someone that I care for is in danger, then you can bet that the guys on my SEAL team are behind me one hundred percent. It's not even a question."

"I don't know," Rebecca said, shaking her head. "It's a lot to ask of them."

"I'd do it for any of them if someone they loved was in danger."

Rebecca startled, looking up at him in confusion. "Someone you...."

"I know it's early, and we've only known each other a few short weeks, but I'm falling in love with you, Rebecca." He bent down and kissed her softly, his lips gently caressing her own. "I swear that I'll protect you," he vowed.

Abby began whining from inside of the car, and Rebecca pulled back, feeling chagrined that she couldn't share her feelings for him right now, too. This was hardly the time or the place, despite his own admission of how much he cared for her. Hopefully he could read the expression on her face and know that she, too, was falling in love with him.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and buckled her daughter into her car seat, wishing more than anything that she didn't have to go right now. She wasn't sure what it was Patrick intended to do tonight, and she was almost afraid to ask.

"Drive safely," he said quietly, closing the door behind her after she'd climbed into her car. "I'll be in touch soon."

"Okay."

She backed out of the parking space, watching Patrick stand there with his son in her rear-view-mirror before she left. As she drove away, she couldn't help but feel like she'd left a little piece of her heart there with him.

#  Chapter 17

Patrick pulled up to an apartment building the next morning, the address scrawled down on a piece of paper he gripped tightly in his hand. Christopher had worked his magic last night, locating the current whereabouts of one Michael Hale. It had been easy enough for Christopher to hack into the records at the courthouse, pulling up his contact information. While not technically legal, Christopher was a computer whiz, and Patrick knew Christopher wouldn't feel guilty about retrieving the information when it meant protecting the woman he was falling in love with.

Hell. He'd hardly been able to admit it to himself earlier in the week, and last night he'd confessed his feelings to Rebecca. He'd sworn that he wouldn't let himself grow attached to a woman ever again, but it was getting harder and harder to find reasons to stay away from Rebecca. Each time he saw her, he wanted to learn more. Every time he kissed her, he wanted to bury himself so deeply inside her that they'd both forget their own names.

Brent had been there last night, watching Rebecca's house from afar. There'd been no sign of Hale or the silver SUV, and he hoped that after a little confrontation with the coward this morning, they could all get on with their lives. That Rebecca could live without worry. He'd put the man in his place and let him know in no uncertain terms that he was to steer clear of both Rebecca and her daughter. What they both meant to him, he didn't want to examine too closely at this point. But one thing was for certain—he'd do anything to protect them.

Patrick exited his SUV, his concealed weapon holstered securely. A man who had no qualms about stalking a woman would likely feel threatened enough by Patrick showing up at his home without the need for a firearm, but Patrick wasn't taking any chances. You never knew what someone would do in a stressful situation. Hale was clearly on edge about whatever had happened in the court hearing, upset enough to show up at Rebecca's home. Someone that far gone could react violently, desperately, and years of military training had taught Patrick to be fully prepared for any situation. He didn't know what he'd be walking into, which meant that he had to be nothing less than fully prepared. Hope for the best but assume the worst.

Christopher was waiting in a separate vehicle down the street, just in case Patrick had need for backup. His other men were listening in, and if everything had proceeded accordingly, Brent should still be at Rebecca's and Matthew at her office. Unfortunately, he'd had to bring his CO into the loop, insisting that Rebecca needed their protection. Brent and the other men had backed him up one hundred percent, and it was with his full knowledge of the situation that they'd put their plan into action this morning. Patrick knew that he wanted to confront Hale alone, though. He'd seen Patrick before and had been rightfully scared off then, and Patrick had a feeling the man would be intimidated similarly again.

He quietly walked up the stairs of the open, garden-style apartment building, thankful no one else was around at the moment. It was early, and most people were probably still just waking up, getting ready for their day. Which made his job of surprising Hale all the easier. With any luck, he'd still be sound asleep in bed—with an early morning wake-up call from Patrick to kick-off his day.

Approaching the door of the end unit, he knocked firmly. Patrick heard no movement inside—no rustle of someone shuffling behind the door, no footsteps, and no sounds from a radio or television. He knocked louder and paused for a moment, listening. There was nothing but silence. Two newspapers lying on the doormat had him wondering the last time Hale had even been home. In all likelihood, there really was no one inside the apartment.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself. He spoke quietly into his mouthpiece to update Christopher, and heard his response through his ear bud. There were no signs of anything unusual in the parking lot of the apartment building or out on the street, so they either hadn't arrived early enough or Hale hadn't returned home last night.

The door to the next apartment opened, and Patrick glanced up in surprise. A young woman stepped out, looking alarmed to see him. He offered a reassuring smile and tried speaking to her in his gentlest tone, asking if she happened to know Hale's whereabouts. She hesitated a moment, seeming unsure if she should even speak to him. When he asked again, saying he just was checking in on a friend, she finally admitted that she hadn't seen him since the weekend. Which meant there was no telling where he'd been the past couple of days.

Thanking her, Patrick stuck around a few minutes longer while the woman walked away, looking back at him nervously a few times. Maybe she'd be alarmed enough to mention to Hale that he'd paid him a visit. If the guy showed up at his apartment anytime soon.

The fact that no one knew Hale's whereabouts this morning was worrisome, and Patrick had a bad feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. He'd assumed he'd be able to find him at home, which had been a mistake. The guy had popped up multiple times last week, but now that he knew Rebecca and Patrick had seen him on Friday night, he was wise enough to lay low.

Patrick or one of his men could return to the apartment later on, leaving a bug at the door. Then at least they'd have ears on the place in case Hale returned. He wasn't ready to do any breaking and entering just yet, but if need be, they'd search the premises. Luckily there was a light fixture outside of each door in the hallway, located right on the wall. He could conceal a bug there easily enough, and at least they'd know if someone was entering or leaving the apartment. He wished he'd had the foresight to bring one along this morning, but that's what he got for rushing into things. Clearly he should be spending his time analyzing the situation from all angles, not taking Rebecca and her daughter to dinner.

He spoke into his mouthpiece again, instructing his men to stay alert. There were other ways to find the man. If everything worked out as he hoped and they could locate him, this ended today.

***

"This is fucked up," Brent muttered as the men convened on base later that afternoon. They were all there, save for Evan, who was positioned outside Rebecca's office building in Virginia Beach. He'd tailed her to the courthouse earlier, without her knowledge, and that worried Patrick. He'd have to talk to her about some basic safety protocols she could take until they located her stalker. Although the courthouse had security and metal detectors, Rebecca needed to be aware of her surroundings when leaving her home and office and walking alone to her car.

Evan had reported in a few minutes ago, saying there were no signs of a silver SUV or any suspicious activity. They didn't have a man on her house at the moment, but since neither Rebecca nor her daughter was home, Patrick didn't see that as a problem.

"How could a guy like that just disappear?" Brent continued, pacing around the room.

"He's here somewhere," Patrick said coolly. "I spooked him Friday night, but not enough for him to stay away forever."

"How's Rebecca handling this?" Mike asked, concern etching his features.

"She's pretty upset, especially since he spoke to her daughter last week. That is too fucking close for comfort."

Patrick had filled in his men earlier regarding the details, and they'd grown decidedly angrier hearing that bit of news. It was one thing to be stalking Rebecca, which was unconscionable enough, but to make contact with her child? He was playing a dangerous game, and there would be only one loser in the end.

Patrick's blood boiled at the memory of the fear in Rebecca's eyes last night. As much as he hated to see her upset, he hoped she would take the entire threat more seriously now. At first she'd been willing to write off the dropped phone calls as some sort of prank or coincidence, but after her daughter had confirmed that a stranger had been looking for her, Rebecca seemed to finally realize exactly how grave the situation was.

"She should be worried. This guy isn't someone to mess with," said Mike. "Anyone seeking revenge to the point of stalking his prey isn't thinking clearly, and there's no telling how he'll act if he gets a hold of Rebecca."

"Agreed. However, the only way he's getting near either of them is over my dead body."

"Hell yeah," Brent agreed, his eyes blazing. "There is something fundamentally wrong with any man who would hurt a woman or child. We need to end this."

"I'll pull up his credit card records," Christopher said. "Maybe we can locate him that way by seeing where he's been spending his time the past few weeks."

"Shit, man, is that even legal?" Matthew asked.

"No one will even know I was in there," Christopher assured him.

"Let's do it," Patrick agreed.

Patrick had been determined to confront Hale today, but if he wasn't going to appear, they'd have to smoke him out somehow. Christopher's idea was as good as any he had. If there was some spot he frequented, like a bar or restaurant, they could stake it out. Mike had offered to head back to Hale's apartment tonight, watching in case he eventually returned. He'd also leave a bug outside the door. It made sense to keep one man posted there tonight, though, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. It was possible he wasn't working alone, and the more intel they could gather, the better.

Patrick was more concerned with keeping Rebecca safe, and he was glad that one of his men had volunteered for watching the apartment overnight. If someone was near Rebecca at all times, providing her protection, the stalker would have no chance of getting close enough to harm her. For the moment, until they could pinpoint his exact location, that would have to be enough.

#  Chapter 18

Rebecca collapsed on her sofa that evening, the gravity of the events from the past few days weighing heavily on her. Abby's revelation at dinner last night had been heartbreaking—she'd let her daughter out of her sight for a moment last week, for a _few seconds,_ and that crazy man had found a way to talk to her child. What if he'd harmed her? What if he'd kidnapped her? Abby was only four years old. A grown man could easily overpower her and whisk her away. She'd be gone before Rebecca even knew she was missing.

It unnerved her that Abby had so casually mentioned the incident days later. She obviously hadn't been frightened of this man, this _stranger_. They'd had a long, serious talk last night about who Abby could and couldn't speak to. That didn't make dropping her daughter off at preschool any easier this morning though. She'd actually been trembling as she'd driven away and headed into work.

The only thing that gave her any semblance of peace was that the man hadn't harmed Abby last week. If he'd wanted to hurt her, he would have. There was no doubt in Rebecca's mind about that. It was Rebecca he seemed to be after, and to what end, she just didn't know. The fact that he was probably the one calling her office meant she'd likely worked with him in some capacity. Either he felt he'd been wronged by the settlement she'd worked out for him, or he was the opposing spouse in one of the divorce proceedings. In which case, he was unhappy with the settlement she'd obtained for his ex-wife.

She wracked her brain, trying to think of any recent cases which may have led to something like this. She'd handled so many heated disputes, it was tough to say. Divorce could be ugly, and it wasn't uncommon for the husband and wife to both be hurling names and insults at one another. If she came up with a list of everyone who'd ever been upset with some part of the proceedings, it could easily be a mile long.

Rebecca sighed, sinking deeper into the soft cushions. Maybe she just needed to make herself a nice cup of tea to help her relax and calm down. Too many thoughts were swirling through her head to allow her to completely unwind and think clearly at the moment. She could use a little stress relief.

Patrick's suggestion of meeting for dinner last night had been unexpected as well. She hadn't known when they'd see each other again after the weekend or how they'd handle a "date" with the kids around. She wasn't sure last night really even counted as a date, but he had paid for their dinner. And kissed her goodnight and said that he was falling in love.

Seriously, what was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just let go and be happy? She gave herself freely to Patrick in the bedroom but held onto her heart even more tightly. Was she just trying to protect herself? How could she open herself fully to him and give him that piece of herself? She'd spent an entire year trying to mend her wounds and put the broken pieces of her heart back together again. She wasn't sure she could so freely give it away.

A light knocking on her door at 8:00 p.m. startled her. In a flash, she jumped up from the sofa, her heart wildly pounding. She wasn't expecting anyone, and briefly, she wondered about the SUV she'd spotted last week. About the man that had spoken to her daughter. She hadn't seen the SUV at all since Friday night, when Patrick had been there, but what if they'd come back and gotten a little bolder? What if whoever was in the car had been looking for her and had decided to confront her? Patrick had said he or one of his men would be watching her house, and they wouldn't let a stranger approach her home, would they?

Her neighbors certainly weren't likely to drop by at this hour since they knew Abby would be sleeping, and all of her friends would call first. Shakily, she walked over to the front door. She'd changed after work and only had on a camisole and lightweight pajama bottoms, but she didn't have time to run back and put on something more presentable. Glancing out the front window, she was simultaneously shocked and relieved to see Patrick standing there.

She opened the door, and he took one look at her before pulling her into a tight embrace. "You're shaking," he said, his voice filled with concern. "What happened?"

"You scared me," she said, breathing a sigh of relief as she buried her head into his chest, inhaling his clean, masculine scent. His arms wrapped more tightly around her as he ducked his head down, holding her close. His lips brushed against her hair as he spoke.

"I scared you?"

"I was worried you were the person in the SUV."

"Have they been back?" he asked sharply, drawing her back from him and searching her eyes with a penetrating gaze.

"What? No. I haven't seen them since Friday night," Rebecca said, slightly startled by his reaction. "I had some more hang-ups at the office today. My assistant was a little worked up over it, so I guess I was just feeling on edge."

"When did they call?"

"Sometime this morning, why?"

"Just wondering about something," he said without further explanation. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine; I just wasn't expecting anyone to come by—it's great that you did, but I was concerned for a moment." She shrugged, feeling a little bit foolish. Did he think that she freaked out like this every time someone came to her door? It was tough to imagine anything scaring Patrick—he was a big, bad Navy SEAL. But certainly he'd understand why she'd be wary of unknown people coming to her house, given the circumstances.

"Next time I'll be sure to call first," Patrick reassured her.

"Where's Logan?" she asked, her heartbeat finally returning to a normal speed. It was a school night, so she couldn't imagine that he'd be spending the night at his grandparents' again. Her own daughter had already been tucked in bed and sound asleep for an hour.

"My sister is watching him right now."

Rebecca looked up at him in confusion, searching his cool blue eyes. "I didn't know you even had a sister."

"There's a lot we still don't know about each other yet," he said quietly. "I'd like to find out more though," he added, lightly tracing his knuckles over her cheek. Warmth spread through her, and again, she wondered how a single touch from Patrick could so quickly make her come undone.

"Me too," she whispered.

"My sister can only watch Logan for a couple of hours, so I can't stay long," he said regretfully.

"I'm just glad you stopped by. I wasn't sure when we'd get to see each other again."

"It was hard to stay away," Patrick admitted. "I thought about you all last night."

"Is that so?" she asked, a hint of a smile coming to her lips.

Arousal filled his eyes, and since she'd been having trouble keeping her mind on anything but Patrick while lying alone in her bed, she understood exactly where he was coming from. She'd had several long, restless nights of her own, her body demanding relief that only Patrick could provide. She longed for the safety and comfort of his arms, yes, but also for the connection they'd shared as he'd made love to her, driving her higher and higher, lost to everything but him.

"Absolutely," he said, stepping closer.

He tilted her face up and bent down, meeting her lips in a searing kiss. Her entire body ignited at his touch, her heart beating faster, her breathing growing shallow. Within moments she felt a throbbing between her legs, and she pressed her thighs together, desperate to ease the ache. His tongue swept into her mouth, aggressively thrusting in and out as he claimed her.

He turned them so that her back was pressed up against the door and caged her in, his large body blocking hers as his hands began to explore. He tugged her camisole down, her full breasts spilling out over the stretchy material. His large hands palmed her roughly, kneading and caressing her aching breasts as she moaned. As long as she lived, she knew she'd never get enough of his heated kisses and scorching touch.

He pinched one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it lightly between them, and she cried out, the feeling shooting straight to her core. He plucked at her gently, pulling and tugging on her taut nipples, leaving her writhing against him, desperate for more. Ducking his head down, he lightly flicked his tongue over one taut bud. She gasped and cried out, but he didn't let up, teasing her relentlessly as arousal pooled at her center.

"Patrick," she gasped, pleasure beginning to surge through her. She'd never come from a man playing only with her breasts before—she was still almost completely dressed for heaven's sake. But Patrick knew exactly how to touch her, to kiss and tease her, sending flames licking through her body.

Desire coiled through her center, snaking lower and lower, until she felt every touch of his directly in her throbbing clit. He gently tugged one nipple between his teeth and bit down lightly, blowing on it gently a moment later to ease the sting. Rubbing his thumb back and forth across the pebbled nipple, he sucked the other into his mouth, flicking his tongue mercilessly over it. His hand tightened at her hip as he held her against the door, and as the sensations from his ministrations became too much, she cried out, climaxing right there in her front hall. Her release dampened her pajama bottoms, and she gasped against the door, practically boneless with pleasure.

Patrick scooped her into his arms, holding her close to his broad chest as he effortlessly carried her over to the large sofa in her living room. "I've been wanting to do that since Friday night," he said, his voice gruff with desire. "You're so sensitive."

"It's you," Rebecca admitted.

Patrick growled in approval and gently laid her down on the cushions. He tugged her pajama bottoms off, his eyes growing hungry as he spread her legs apart. Lightly tracing his fingers over the sensitive skin on her inner thighs, he groaned. Unbuttoning his jeans, he pushed them down along with his boxers, and his thick arousal sprang out. "I need you," he said, covering her trembling body with his own. He kissed her neck, sucking and nipping at her, running his tongue up and down, as she felt the weight of his arousal against her thigh. "I wanted you so badly last night. I need to be inside you."

"I need you, too," Rebecca said, clutching his large erection in her hand. He was throbbing with want, with need, and she couldn't wait to feel all that power deep within her. She gripped him tightly, working her hand up and down, circling a drop of pre-come around the head of his engorged shaft.

Patrick groaned. "Don't toy with me, sweetheart. I want you too badly."

She guided him to her center, in awe of the power she currently held over this man. She wanted to take him into her mouth, to bring him to his knees as she worked her tongue and mouth over him, driving him senseless with desire. That would have to be saved for another time though, because Patrick was a man on the edge, the desperation of his need to be inside her written all over his face.

Patrick entered her slowly, his throbbing cock filling her wet heat. "That feels so good," she moaned as his thick erection stretched her and he began to slowly move in and out. It was almost too slow, too good—the pleasure she felt as he stroked her inner walls nearly more than she could bear.

"Look at me," he commanded, and she met his cool blue gaze. Lust filled his eyes, along with something more—tenderness at their joining. Protectiveness. And possessiveness, as he began moving faster, thrusting deeply within her velvety walls as he claimed her, watching her reaction to his every move, making her his own.

"Patrick," she gasped, wrapping her arms tightly around his muscular chest. It felt so good to hold him in her arms, to feel his muscular body on top of hers, and to feel his manhood deep inside her, right where he belonged.

He took her faster now, harder, his thrusts deepening as he moved his hips rapidly between the cradle of her thighs. Her inner walls began to tighten, clenching around him. There would be no stopping the pleasure he sought from her, his body thoroughly commanding her own. He demanded nothing less than her complete surrender, and her explosion was immediate, unstoppable, as she screamed. Her orgasm went on and on, prolonged by Patrick's powerful strokes, and she bucked wildly beneath him, softly crying out his name again and again.

At last she finally began to float back down to earth, breathless and spent. Patrick buried his head in her neck after he came, kissing and nuzzling her. One hand swept over her breasts, caressing her softly, possessively. His fingers began plucking at her over-sensitive nipples, already trying to arouse her once more as he impossibly hardened again, still seated deep inside her. His drive was insatiable, his yearning unstoppable. Once more, she was unable to stop her body's response to each of Patrick's teasing strokes and tender caresses. She was his and his alone.

He shifted lower and kissed her breasts around each areola, sending desire shooting right through her. Ducking his head, he softly bit the gentle curve of tender flesh beneath her nipple as she moaned. Patrick was simply devouring her, mind, body, and soul.

He sucked one nipple into his mouth, driving her wild with want and desire. He twisted onto his side, pulling Rebecca with him. Hitching one of her legs up over his hip, opening her once again to him, he thrust into her softly, slowly, his eyes never once leaving hers. His thumb swirled over her swollen clit, and she was gone, crying out in pleasure once more.

A moment later Patrick came again as well, kissing her passionately as he released deep inside her. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured, so softly that she wondered if he'd really spoken at all.

"Then stay," she whispered, before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

#  Chapter 19

Rebecca awoke in surprise the next morning, tucked into a blanket on her couch. She stretched as she blinked, shielding her eyes from the brightness. The sunlight beamed in through the windows of her living room, and she heard Abby just beginning to stir in her bedroom down the hall. She must have fallen asleep with Patrick last night, she realized. He'd made love to her again and again, until she'd come so many times she could hardly remember her own name. Finally, she'd simply drifted off to sleep in his warm embrace.

He'd wrapped the blanket around her, she realized. And put her pajama bottoms back on, she thought with a blush. Why that embarrassed her, she didn't know. The man had explored nearly every inch of her naked body. Taking care of her by righting her clothing and tucking a warm blanket around her shouldn't be cause for unease.

She cared for him, she realized. More deeply than she thought that she could. He hadn't told her again that he was falling in love with her, but they hadn't had much time for words in the midst of their unbridled passion. They'd talk soon enough, she thought. She had so much on her mind with all of the strange incidents going on that she hadn't had time to closely examine her feelings or what she wanted from him.

She wanted to be with Patrick. That part was simple and true enough. It was the falling in love part that scared her—the needing another person more than you needed your next breath. Could she live with that uncertainty again? Her husband had a perfectly safe job yet had been killed in a car accident. A horrific one. Patrick was a freaking Navy SEAL. It was hard to imagine a job more difficult or dangerous. Could she live with herself knowing that he left all the time on missions she could never know about, all the while knowing there was a chance he wouldn't return? There really was no easy answer.

She padded into the kitchen, ready to put on a pot of coffee, and saw a simple note on the table:

Stay safe. –Patrick

It was the same thing he'd told her the first time they'd met, although now they both realized she might actually have someone she needed to stay safe from. She'd forgotten to ask him if he'd been able to run the plates of the SUV, although certainly Patrick would have mentioned if he'd had any updates.

She could hear Abby calling her now, and she hurried down the hallway toward her daughter. She slowed down a moment later, realizing that she was actually sore from the lovemaking session she and Patrick had last night. Sore and exhausted in the best possible way. She couldn't believe he'd been able to make her come, to pleasure her, so many times. Rebecca had always enjoyed sex in the past, but nothing, _no one_ , had ever made her feel like this. Patrick was a force to be reckoned with, and she absolutely loved being on the receiving end of all his attention and affection.

She realized with a sense of chagrin that last night she hadn't gone over all of her notes for the hearing at the courthouse today like she'd planned. Patrick had blindsided her though, showing up on her doorstep unexpectedly. He'd made love to her so passionately, so thoroughly, it was no wonder she'd lost all sense of control and fallen asleep in his arms. She'd have time to quickly review the files while Abby ate breakfast, but Rebecca would have to grab a bite to eat for herself later on.

She opened the door to Abby's room and smiled as her daughter sat up in bed, her hair tousled from a night of slumber, her eyes still heavily lidded. She had a big smile on her face as Rebecca walked in, saying good morning and giving her a hug.

"Mommy, is it a school day?"

"Yep, kiddo, it is. And mommy has a big day at the courthouse, so we need to get ready."

The two walked into the kitchen, and Rebecca prepared Abby's breakfast, listening to her chatter about a vivid dream she had the night before. She put on a pot of coffee and grabbed the files that she needed to review over breakfast. Her eyes once again fell on the scrawled message Patrick had left, and she felt a surge of warmth rush through her. It was nice to have someone care for her, she realized. She'd been on her own for so long, she'd almost forgotten what it was like to let someone have your back and watch out for you.

Only after she'd finished her first cup of coffee did she realize that he'd never said exactly why he'd come over. Having him show up out of the blue like that was a wonderful surprise, but she had a feeling that Patrick was the type of man who had a reason behind everything he did. He _had_ mentioned that it had been hard to stay away, so perhaps he'd just wanted to spend more time together.

He'd been instantly on edge when she'd mentioned her fears to him about who was knocking on her front door, and for a moment, she wondered if he knew more than he was letting on. Patrick would certainly tell her if he had discovered something though. He'd want Rebecca and Abby to stay safe, and keeping her in the dark wouldn't help anyone.

All she could do was hope that the strange calls to her office would stop and life could resume as normal. The last thing she needed was more trouble after the year that she'd had. The sooner she could put this entire episode behind her, the better she'd feel.

***

Patrick pulled onto base early that morning, eager to reconvene with his men. He'd need to get updates from Christopher and Mike, learning what they'd found out last night from pulling up Hale's credit card records and keeping watch on Hale's apartment. Then the men had training to do. His CO had been understanding the other day when he'd stressed the urgency of the situation, but since there had been no sign of Hale anywhere, his team had to get back to their own work. Their CO had warned they might be deployed again soon, and Patrick was desperate to end this before he and his men were sent on a mission.

He could call his cop buddy to keep an eye on Rebecca if they were forced to leave, but he knew the PD wouldn't keep eyes on her 24/7 like he and his team were doing. A stranger talking to Rebecca's daughter and an SUV parked in her neighborhood would not be cause enough of concern for the police. Not when actual crimes were being committed every day. There sure was nothing illegal about parking on a public street, but it made his blood boil to think of Hale parked in Rebecca's neighborhood last week. With any luck, one of the guys would have some new information this morning, and they could track this guy down. Ending this for good.

Briefly, he allowed his mind to drift back to thoughts of Rebecca. Although she still hadn't confessed if she shared the same feelings that he did, she'd certainly been enthusiastic to his advances last night. It had been hard to leave her there on the sofa yesterday. She was so soft and pliant, tucked against him so tightly, he never wanted to go. But he had to get back to Logan so his sister could go home. It was enough that he'd asked her to make the hour drive from Norfolk to babysit his son for the evening, but he'd tried to convey to her that it was extenuating circumstances. He knew she'd assumed it had something to do with his work as a SEAL, and he felt slightly guilty at letting her believe it was the U.S. Navy keeping him away.

He had to see Rebecca though, to hold her in his arms and make sure she was okay. The fact that she'd been scared to the point that she was shaking when she opened the front door only confirmed that he'd been right to go to her. He hadn't planned on ravishing her right there inside her front hall, but the moment she'd met his heated gaze, he couldn't stop himself.

The only thing that enabled him to leave her at all last night was the knowledge that a man on his team would keep eyes on her house overnight. Between the six of them, they'd keep her safe. Thoughts that they may have to deploy again soon worried him. The orders could come at anytime, and he needed this resolved if he wanted to keep his mind one hundred percent on their upcoming mission.

"Any news?" he asked the others when they'd convened.

"Nothing at his apartment," Mike said, much to Patrick's dismay. "I sat out in the parking lot all night and there were no signs of Hale or anything suspicious."

"I guess we'll just have to rely on the bug you planted then," Patrick said, his eyebrows creasing.

"Yeah. If he does return, we'll know it. There's nothing but a stack of newspapers at his front door now."

"He hasn't used any credit cards at all in the past two weeks," Christopher said, frowning. "I hacked in and pulled up all of his records last night. There are a few spots he used to frequent that we could check out, but this guy is keeping a low profile."

"Damn it," Patrick muttered. Even if Hale was paying for his expenses strictly using cash, they could still determine some of the places that he usually spent time at. If they culled through the credit card records, they could pick out a few locations he'd been to the most and start there. People were creatures of habit, and he likely went to the same establishments around the same time each week. There might be a gym he belonged to, a grocery store that he shopped at, or a favorite restaurant that they could track him down at. Hell, even his kid's school or ex-wife's house might be places they should visit again. This guy was bound to show up somewhere.

"He used to hit up a bar down by Anchors every Thursday night," Christopher noted. "We could try checking that place out."

"That's not until tomorrow though."

"It's a start," Brent said. "Unfortunately, it's as good a lead as any right now.

"Agreed," Patrick said.

He glanced down at his watch, knowing the men had training to get to. As soon as this morning's drills were over, Patrick fully intended to have one of his guys on Rebecca. He'd feel better if someone was outside of her office building, ensuring nothing suspicious was going on. In the meantime, maybe he would call in another favor with his cop buddy. He'd owe him big time after this, but for the moment, he'd ask him to keep an extra patrol car in the area or something. There was unlikely much that the police would be willing to do at this point, since Hale hadn't actually threatened Rebecca. But if anything happened, he'd never forgive himself for not covering all of his bases.

He changed into his PT gear, only mildly relieved that they had a starting point in locating Hale tomorrow night. It was better than nothing, but they'd go over the other credit card records this afternoon and come up with a game plan for tracking him down. Divide and conquer and all that. The sooner this ended, the better. And if his team was going to be called up again soon, deploying to God knows where, he wanted to be able to leave with Rebecca completely, one hundred percent safe. Anything less would be unacceptable.

#  Chapter 20

Rebecca walked out of her office later that afternoon, a feeling of relief washing over her. The hearing at the courthouse had gone smoothly earlier, she'd gotten caught up on the mountain of paperwork piled high on her desk, and they hadn't received one suspicious phone call. She hadn't realized the weight of the past week until some of her burdens had been lifted. It was difficult keeping up with her clients and demanding schedule, worrying for the safety of Abby and herself, and navigating through the uncharted waters of starting a new relationship. Or whatever it was going on between Patrick and her.

At some point they'd have to sit down and talk, determine what really was happening between them. He'd said he was falling in love with her, but was it just the sparks of sexual chemistry between them that had him feeling that way? They'd practically burned up the sheets in their hotel room with their passionate night of lovemaking. Was he really just in _lust_ with her?

She couldn't imagine him spending time with her and her daughter, though, if he only wanted sex. There'd been plenty of women drooling over him every time they'd been together. A man as large and imposing as Patrick commanded the attention of any room that he entered. No, if he just wanted a good time, he'd certainly do better than setting his sights on a busy lawyer like herself with a young child to care for. He certainly wouldn't have tucked her in the other night and held her so closely against him as she fell asleep if he didn't care. And he never would have looked at her the way that he did, with warmth filling his cool blue gaze, if he only looked at her as a warm body in his bed.

She clicked the remote to her car, unlocking the doors, and glanced around as a feeling of unease washed over her. Her skin prickled with awareness as a chill snaked down her spine, and she knew someone was watching her. She whipped around, expecting to see someone approaching her, and then let her gaze sweep through the cars parked in the lot.

There, across the parking lot, was a man in a black sedan watching her. He spotted her and quickly glanced down at his smart phone, but something wasn't sitting right with Rebecca. The man in the car looked completely out of place—his short, cropped hair and broad, muscular frame screamed military. The casual clothing he had on wasn't the usual buttoned-up look of the lawyers and other business types in her office building. In fact, she could swear that his face looked familiar, too. Was that one of the guys she'd seen Patrick with when she and Alison had dinner at the seafood restaurant all those weeks ago?

It was, she realized. Without giving it a second thought, she marched over to the car. The man didn't even try to pretend at this point that he hadn't been watching her, and he stepped out of the vehicle, his brown eyes landing on her.

"You're friends with Patrick." It was more of an accusation than a question or comment.

"Yes, ma'am, I am," he said politely, his voice low but soothing. "Christopher Walters," he said, extending his hand.

She searched his face, feeling slightly unnerved at how calm he was. It was almost like he'd expected her to be upset at spotting him in the parking lot of her office building. She shook his hand and introduced herself, before asking what he was doing there.

Christopher cleared his throat, for the first time having the decency to look a little guilty. "Patrick asked us to watch out for you until we find Michael Hale."

"Who's Michael Hale?" she asked suspiciously.

Patrick hadn't mentioned anything about knowing the name of the man who'd allegedly been stalking her. He'd offered to run the plates of the SUV outside her home but hadn't brought it up again. He'd said he or one of his men would watch her home at night, but she'd assumed that had been more to ease her fears than out of strict necessity. Up until this moment, she'd assumed the license plates had been a dead end.

Patrick had been with her at dinner the night Abby disclosed a man had spoken to her, and he'd seen how shaken up Rebecca had been. He knew that she was still receiving anonymous calls at her office—aside from today, oddly enough. And somehow he'd figured out who the stalker was, been concerned enough to alert his SEAL team and order them to provide protection to her during the day, yet he hadn't felt the need to mention any of it to her?

"I think you should discuss this with Patrick," Christopher said quietly.

"He's the stalker. Michael Hale."

Christopher didn't dispute it, confirming her suspicions. She wracked her brain, trying to figure out why the name sounded familiar, but her anger toward Patrick prevented her from thinking clearly.

"Damn it, why would Patrick keep me in the dark about this?"

"He wanted to protect you," Christopher said calmly. He didn't offer any other defenses for Patrick, either assuming his protection was enough of a justification for having the members of his SEAL team follow Rebecca around or realizing that he didn't have any other reasons to offer her.

"Where is he?" Rebecca asked coldly.

She had to pick up Abby from after-school care, but she'd call the school to notify them that she would be late. She wasn't going anywhere until she confronted Patrick. It wasn't the fact that he'd asked his friends to look out for her that bothered her so much as the fact that he'd done so without her knowledge. He _knew_ the name of her stalker and hadn't told her. She could have banned him from her office building, notified the security officers down at the courthouse, contacted the man's lawyer and demanded he keep his client in line.

"Probably on his way home from base," Christopher admitted. "I'm, uh, pretty sure he was planning to stop by your house later on though."

"I need an address," she said firmly.

Christopher hesitated a moment as she pinned him with an icy glare, before reluctantly writing down Patrick's home address. She glanced at the slip of paper and realized she could be there in twenty minutes, which would give her plenty of time to give Patrick a piece of her mind before driving over to get Abby.

It was ridiculous, really, that the first time she'd go to Patrick's house would be to give him hell. She knew he'd never expect her to show up yelling at him, but who the hell did he think he was keeping information like that from her?

She snatched the piece of paper from Christopher and stomped back to her car. Realizing what was likely to happen next, she glanced back over her shoulder.

"Do _not_ follow me!"

He nodded, and as he climbed back into his own car, she noticed him typing out a text on his cell phone, no doubt alerting Patrick to her impending arrival. There was little he could say that would appease her right now. If they were going to be anything to each other, she had to be able to trust him. While she understood implicitly that he wouldn't be able to divulge everything in his life, such as his work as a SEAL, she fully expected him to fill her in when it involved either her or her daughter. She deserved to know that Patrick was concerned enough to have his men following her around all day, and she sure as hell deserved to know the moment he'd discovered the name of her stalker. The sooner they got that straightened out, the better off they'd be.

#  Chapter 21

Patrick's senses were on high alert as he pulled into his driveway. Something was off, and he couldn't pinpoint what it was. He climbed out of his SUV, scanning the front of his house. The front door was closed; nothing seemed out of place. The neighborhood was quiet. Thankfully Logan was at his grandparents' house for the night, because the hair on the back of his neck was standing up as he took a step closer to his home. Someone was watching him.

He shifted his eyes imperceptibly to the trees off to the left, but it wasn't a heavily wooded area, and it was unlikely that someone could hide there. The shrubs in front of his home were neatly trimmed—although a child could certainly crouch down behind them, they'd do nothing to conceal an adult. _There._ If he'd blinked he'd have missed it, but he noticed the curtains rustle in one of the upstairs bedroom windows. He'd left them closed this morning in his rush to leave and get to base early, but someone was in his home now. Watching him.

Hell. He'd had eyes on Rebecca at her office today; he'd had a guy outside her house last night. Even the damn hallway right outside Hale's apartment was bugged in case the bastard returned. But he'd done little to secure his own home aside from locking his doors.

Without a doubt, he knew it was Hale inside of his house. If it were a burglar, they'd break in at night while he was sleeping or during the day when they rightly suspected that he was at work. The only reason someone would be there right now was that they'd be expecting him to arrive home from base. They probably knew he usually got home at this time with his son so that they could have dinner. They were waiting for him.

He approached his front door calmly, acting as if nothing were wrong. There was no need to let Hale know that he was on to him. As soon as he was inside, he'd be on top of the bastard before he knew what had hit him. But in the meantime? He'd let his enemy think he was walking into a trap, unaware of the danger lurking within his own home.

Why the hell Hale had chosen to break into his house rather than Rebecca's he wasn't sure. He could only assume Hale had noticed his men outside Rebecca's home and had ascertained that he was being watched. Thank God he'd chosen to come here, instead, because the idea of Rebecca returning to an empty home with Hale waiting inside had his blood turning cold.

When he reached the front porch, out of view from the window upstairs, he quickly texted his men, telling them to get there ASAP. Shit. There was already a text message from Christopher, indicating that Rebecca was on her way to his house right now. He'd have to move quickly, disarming Hale and restraining him before she arrived. There was no way he was chancing having her get involved in any of this. He'd subdue Hale and then call the cops. He didn't need sirens wailing through his neighborhood right now, notifying this crazy man that he was on to him.

He quietly slid his key into the front door, turning the lock. Opening the front door as softly as he could, he reached for his weapon. He hand was on his gun, ready to pull it from the holster as he entered the house, when Rebecca's car pulled into the driveway. How in God's name had she gotten here so quickly?

"Rebecca," he said in as calm and quiet a voice as possible as he turned toward her, "you have to leave right now."

The door was slightly ajar behind him, and every nerve ending in his body stood on edge. He was trained never to have his back to the enemy, never to let his guard down, but at the moment, he had to get her the hell out of here. The only thing that kept him from wrestling her to the ground right now was the knowledge that Hale was still upstairs. If the man had already been prowling through the main level of his house, close to him and Rebecca, there was no telling what Patrick would do, consequences be damned.

At the moment, he had seconds to get Rebecca to leave. He had no idea what Hale was up to inside his home or what type of weapon he had, but Rebecca was not going to be here when he found out.

"Who the hell do you think you are, bossing me around? You had no right to keep that information from me!" she shouted angrily.

Her eyes blazed with fury, and Patrick cringed. Even if Hale no longer was watching from the window to witness her arrival, he'd hear her voice. He'd be there in a moment. Rebecca argued for a living, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let her stand here fighting with him now. Not when her life was in danger.

"Rebecca," he warned.

"I'm not leaving until you explain yourself. You found out his name and didn't even tell me. Didn't you think that I had a right to know?"

Patrick glanced back into his house through the crack in the door and caught sight of Hale edging through the shadows, down the stairs. Instantly he knew, without a doubt, that he had to get Rebecca to leave immediately. In her anger, she wasn't listening to him, wouldn't take his advice. He'd have to make amends with her later for keeping her out of the loop this whole time and for what he was about to say, but this was for her own protection. It cut through him like a knife, but he did the only thing he could think of to keep her safe, to shield her from Hale. There was only one way to get Rebecca to leave right now.

"It's over between us."

"What?" she asked, shock crossing over her face. It was obvious that whatever explanation she'd expected from him, whatever story she was imagining she'd hear about why he'd kept Hale's name a secret, Patrick breaking up with her was the last thing on her mind.

"I don't want to see you anymore," he said coldly, hoping that Hale could hear him. "You need to leave."

"But—what?" she asked again, hurt filling her eyes.

Patrick heard a footstep in the background and knew that Hale was getting closer. He knew Hale hated Rebecca, would not hesitate for a moment to harm her, and he said the only thing he could think of to get the man on his side. To keep him from acting out in violence, even if it only stalled him for a moment.

"I usually spend only one night with a woman, but it was so good, I made an exception for you."

Her face fell as she stood there, taking in his words. For a moment she was frozen, unmoving, and then suddenly something snapped inside her. "Go to hell!" Rebecca shouted, tears openly spilling down her cheeks. "Just stay the hell away from me!"

He kept his face expressionless, his gaze icy, as she quickly turned and walked away. It slayed him to lie to her like that, to let her believe that everything he'd said had just been to get her into bed. To make her think he'd never cared for her.

The pit in his gut was growing larger with each step that she took away from him, walking right out of his life. He was actually feeling physically ill from hurting her like that. It was the only way to get Hale on his side, though, and to keep both of them from getting hurt. It would make Hale pause just long enough inside the house, deciding how to proceed, that when Patrick pounced on him, the guy would never see it coming.

Rebecca's car backed down his driveway, and he reached for his gun, turning swiftly back toward his home. Aiming his weapon in front of him, he kicked open his front door, bursting into the front hall. Hale jumped in surprise at the bottom of the stairs, dropping his own weapon, and hastily scrambled to retrieve it. Patrick was on him in a flash, easily overpowering him and kicking Hale's gun across his foyer. The man was subdued and tied up with Patrick's belt, his hands completely immobile behind his back, mere seconds after their altercation had begun.

"Guys like us don't need women in their lives," Hale said as Patrick ground his face into the floor. He pushed his knee into Hale's back, applying more pressure than necessary, and Hale groaned.

"You and I are nothing alike," Patrick spat out.

"We both got even with that bitch," Hale said with a chuckle. "I scared her and you fucked her."

Patrick lifted Hale's head up and slammed it down into the floor, knocking the man unconscious. He grabbed his cell phone and called 911, notifying them of an intruder in his home and saying that he'd already subdued the suspect. The 911 operator got angry with him, telling Patrick he should have waited for the police to arrive, and Patrick growled into the phone.

"I'm a goddamn Navy SEAL. No one is going to threaten me in my own home."

Matthew and Evan came rushing through the front door a moment later, Matthew informing him that Brent had gone to Rebecca's just in case the intruder in Patrick's home hadn't been Hale.

Damn it all to hell, he really hadn't been thinking clearly. He'd assumed it was Hale in his house and sent Rebecca away, unprotected. Thank God his instincts had been correct, but what if he'd been wrong? He'd have broken her heart into a million pieces and still sent her into danger. He was going to have Christopher's head on a platter for letting that woman out of his sight at her office today. If he'd kept her there or never given Rebecca his address, their entire fight could have been avoided.

He hoped she'd forgive him once he explained what he'd done, that he'd been desperate to keep her away from his home. To protect her from Hale. It was bad enough that she'd already been angry when she arrived, but for him to be forced to act so cruelly to her? The expression on her face gutted him, and he needed to go to her. Now.

Sirens wailed in the distance, and he stood up, eyeing the men from his team. "As soon as they take Hale out of my home, I have to find Rebecca."

The others nodded. "We'll handle it, Ice," Matthew said, his gaze level.

Patrick nodded and ran out the door, climbing into his SUV. He quickly sent a text and then peeled out of the driveway, passing the police as he exited his neighborhood. He didn't care what the hell his men told the police officers arriving at his home or what kind of trouble he may get into for leaving the scene. All that mattered was the woman who'd stolen his heart, and he had a sinking feeling that his actions to protect her may have just led him to lose her forever.

#  Chapter 22

Rebecca pulled into her driveway, hands shaking, tears falling down her face. In her haste to get out of there, to rush home, she'd nearly forgotten to pick up Abby. She'd driven right past her daughter's school before making a u-turn, arriving just on time for the evening pick-up. They charged by the minute if you were late to get your child, which meant every parent arrived on time unless there was a dire emergency. Rebecca hadn't wanted to be the parent who arrived there late, with her daughter left wondering what had happened and why she was the last child there.

Her argument with Patrick had left her so shaken that Rebecca couldn't even think clearly. She'd been driving blindly, unaware of her surroundings, and finally arriving at Abby's school as if on autopilot.

Rebecca had ignored the stares of the other parents as she'd gotten Abby, unable to stop the tears filling her eyes. She'd barely held it together as she'd taken her daughter back to the car and had clutched the steering wheel tightly as she drove home. It was only in the safety of her own driveway that she'd sobbed, releasing the anguish inside. How could she have been so stupid? Patrick had lied to her about everything. He hadn't trusted her with the truth about her stalker. He hadn't been honest about his feelings. She'd dared to open her heart and believe they stood a chance together and what had he done? Nothing but use her for his own enjoyment and pleasure, dumping her when he'd had enough fun.

She wiped the tears from her face as she got out of her car, retrieving Abby from her car seat in the back. Once again, Abby was lost in her own world, telling her a story about preschool. Rebecca was grateful her daughter didn't notice how upset that she was, because there was no way she could offer an explanation without breaking down into sobs once more.

They walked to the front door, and once they'd gotten inside, Rebecca turned on a cartoon for Abby, much to her surprise and delight. They always watched the news in the evening, if they had the TV on at all, and her daughter wasn't about to argue with this special treat.

Nothing about her encounter with Patrick this evening added up. He'd sent his friend Christopher to her office to watch out for her, only to break up with her that same day? He'd said he was falling in love with her, but when she'd shown up on his doorstep he'd freaked out? He wanted her safe but not in his home?

The reality of the situation slammed into her. Maybe he was seeing somebody else. She'd gotten his address from Christopher, after all. He wasn't expecting her to show up. He could've had a woman inside right then, listening to their entire conversation. He'd been so tense when she approached him, she'd sensed that something was wrong—something aside from her yelling at him, that is. Not that he'd clue her in, of course. Patrick seemed to think it was up to him to handle every situation—to handle _her_.

They hadn't exactly discussed being exclusive, but my God. Although it would have been within his right to see other women since they hadn't discussed the matter directly, he never should have said he was falling in love with her if that was the case. If he really wanted to be dating other women, why hadn't he just left her alone?

She never should have let herself believe that he cared for her, not when they never bothered to discuss where they each stood. Maybe he'd said he was falling in love, but she hadn't offered him any assurances of her feelings in return. Hell, maybe when she hadn't returned his affections, he'd decided to move on or see other women. Not before sleeping with her one last time, of course.

Her doorbell rang a moment later, and she glanced out the window to see one of his SEAL friends. It wasn't Christopher, whom she'd met earlier, but a different man, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was almost as tall as Patrick and easily as big and muscular. She didn't feel like arguing with yet another man today, having already chewed out Christopher and Patrick, and opened the door, simply saying, "Yes?"

The man didn't even bother to introduce himself, just said, "Hale was inside Patrick's home."

That got her full attention, and her eyes widened. "What? When? Is Patrick okay?" Damn it. Even though he'd just broken her heart into a million little pieces, she was still worried about him. What did that say? She'd told herself she didn't know how she felt about him and the second she feared he'd been harmed, she suddenly knew?

Her heart stopped as she waited for an answer, the pain almost more than she could bear. She thought it had hurt when he'd broken her heart earlier, but what if he'd been hurt or even killed by the crazy man stalking her? What if Michael Hale had gone after Patrick _because_ of her?

He most likely had, she realized. If she hadn't been involved with Patrick, then Hale would have been after her but not him. Patrick had gone out of his way to protect her, and as a result, her crazed stalker had gone to his home.

"He's fine," the man said, his voice low and intense. "Patrick said all those things earlier to get you to leave. He didn't want Hale to harm you."

"What?" Rebecca asked, tears filling her eyes. Her world had already been toppled once this afternoon. Now this man was telling her Patrick did still care for her? "This doesn't make sense."

The man pulled his phone from his pocket, scanning a text message he'd just received. "Patrick's on his way over. I'll wait outside until he gets here, if that's all right with you. I'm Brent Rollins," he added.

Rebecca nodded, suddenly feeling too emotionally exhausted to say another word, and softly closed the door.

***

In less than ten minutes he was there, knocking on her door. She heard an engine start in her driveway and knew that Brent was leaving. Once again, Patrick had let yet another one of his SEAL team members watch out for her until he'd arrived, proving again how concerned he'd been for her safety. Whether he'd ordered his men there or they'd done so out of their own volition, she didn't know. Certainly they wouldn't have bothered if she didn't mean something to Patrick. She could almost understand why he'd treated her so cruelly this afternoon, breaking her heart, in his desperation to get her to leave. But keeping her in the dark about the name of her stalker? Potentially jeopardizing her safety by not trusting her with the truth? That wasn't something she could so easily overlook.

"I'm sorry," he said the second she opened the door. "My God, I'm so sorry. He was in my house, Rebecca. He was in there, waiting for me with a gun, and he would have killed both of us if given the chance. I had to get you to leave, and I knew you wouldn't listen to me."

"Patrick," she said, tears filling her eyes. She'd been prepared to yell at him again like she'd done earlier at his house, but seeing him standing there, remembering the way he'd said he'd only been using her, had her trembling and about to break into sobs once more.

"I'm in love with you, Rebecca. I'm completely in love with you," he said, his eyes shining with sincerity. "I only said those things because I was desperate for you to leave. I'd die if he'd hurt you."

She took a shaky breath, attempting to calm down enough to talk to him. He reached out for her, but she raised her hand, warding him off. Hurt flashed through his eyes, but he stood back, watching her. The distance of the few feet between them was nearly killing her, but she was too angry with him to want his comfort.

"Patrick—Jesus. I know you'd do anything to protect me, but I can't be with you if I can't trust you. You told all the guys on your SEAL team the name of my stalker, you had them waiting outside of my office building, but didn't bother to mention it to me? What if you guys had been deployed on a mission? Who would've protected me then?"

"Rebecca—"

"Then I would've been here all by myself—and I'd have been none the wiser about the dangerous man chasing after my daughter and me. Don't you see? Protecting me doesn't mean shutting me out."

"I'm sorry," Patrick said, looking forlorn. "I only did what I had to—what I thought I had to do," he amended. "I can see that I was wrong, but don't you understand why I kept it a secret? You'd have tried to track him down yourself, and I didn't want anything to hurt you."

" _You_ hurt me," Rebecca said, tears filling her eyes once more. "First you broke up with me, letting me think it was over between us, that I meant _nothing_ to you _,_ and then when you caught the guy, you tell me it was all a big ploy. Didn't I deserve to know about it? Didn't I have a right to know the name of my goddamn _stalker_? They have security at the courthouse. Police officers. My office building has security and requires visitors to sign in at the front desk. But I couldn't notify any of them with the name of the man coming after me because you kept your mouth shut about the entire incident. What if he'd hurt Abby?"

"I'd never let anything happen to you."

"You told the guys on your team more than you told me—and it's _my life_ that was in danger. My daughter's life. I just can't reconcile the fact that you'd keep information like that from me."

"Rebecca, I swear I'll make it up to you. Please don't shut me out. And this afternoon, my God," he said, his own voice cracking slightly. "The look on your face nearly killed me. And I couldn't go after you because Hale was right inside my goddamn house. I understand that you're angry, but I can't apologize for needing to keep you safe."

"I just need some time, Patrick," she said with a sigh. "You hurt me. And too much has happened today for me to even think clearly. I don't even know what I want right now," Rebecca said.

"Can I come in?" Patrick asked, his eyes hopeful. "We can talk as long as you want. I'll leave as soon as you say the word."

"Maybe in a few days," she choked out, shaking her head. "I need to think everything over and be by myself right now."

"Mommy! I'm hungry!"

Rebecca glanced back to see her daughter coming from the living room. In the midst of everything, she'd forgotten to even get dinner started for her daughter. With each passing moment, she was feeling worse and worse about everything that had happened today.

"I have to go," Rebecca said. "Call me in a few days if you want, but I just can't talk to you right now."

"Rebecca," Patrick said softly, his eyes pleading. "Please don't do this."

"You didn't give me a choice."

She turned away and closed the door, leaving Patrick standing there on her doorstep.

#  Chapter 23

Patrick muttered a curse and hauled his rucksack onto his back the next week, walking up the ramp of the C-17 cargo plane as they prepared to depart their base in Virginia. Dressed in his desert fatigues and combat boots, he tried to drink in his last breath of fresh air before being stuck inside in a plane for a flight halfway around the world. Nothing like fourteen hours in an uncomfortable seat, headphones on to drown out the roar of the engine, and nothing to do but think.

Damn it all to hell. His CO had notified them the evening before of their eminent deployment, and he'd spent another restless night wondering how to win back Rebecca. He'd waited patiently for several days after their argument, giving her the time and space she wanted. He hadn't called her once over the weekend, despite the urge he had to rush to her home, kiss her senseless, and beg for her forgiveness. The hours had ticked by endlessly without training on base to fill in the time. It had killed him not to go to her, but she'd asked for time alone and he needed to respect her wishes.

But when his orders had come in last night to deploy the following morning, he'd given in and finally called her. He'd had visions of taking her into his arms and promising to return soon. To leaving with the knowledge that she'd be there waiting for him when he returned. And of spending the night making love to her so thoroughly she'd have no doubt in her mind as to how much he needed her.

Instead, his call had gone straight to voicemail. She'd either been unavailable or unwilling to take his call. Most likely the latter. It's not like she'd called him back in the twelve hours since then. He couldn't even tell her that he was leaving, not over the phone. If she wouldn't speak to him, wouldn't see him, then he had no choice but to leave with the rest of his SEAL team and hope she'd be willing to talk when he returned. Whenever that was.

The pit in his stomach was growing with each step he took. Each second that ticked by was taking him that much farther away from Rebecca. Making it that much easier for her to just slip through his fingers and out of his life.

He deserved it, he knew. Even if he had been trying to protect her, he'd broken her heart with his revelation. Not a damn word of it had been true, but had that stopped the hurt from seeping into her eyes, the tears from falling down her face, or the pain from eating him up?

He almost regretted even calling her at this point. If she did see the missed call from him and decide to call him back now, he sure as hell wouldn't be there to answer. He'd hoped to hear from her last night, but he hadn't left a message. She had no idea what he wanted, and maybe she'd needed to think over whether or not she was ready to talk. With his luck, she'd try while he was deployed on his mission and then think he was angry and avoiding her call. And wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake? Without the opportunity to actually speak to her, he'd been damned if he did call and damned if he didn't. Hell.

"No word from your lady, huh?" Christopher asked, falling into step beside him.

Patrick's men had kept quiet about Rebecca after the incident in his home with Hale, knowing Patrick had no interest in talking about her. Not until they'd reconciled. He'd been hell to deal with, he knew. When he'd decided she was his, not being able to go to her, to comfort her, to make love to her was nearly killing him.

Matthew and Evan had spoken with the police at his home after he'd rushed off to Rebecca's house. Hale had been arrested without incident and was currently being held in jail without bond. Between the charges of breaking and entering into Patrick's home, having an illegal firearm, and stalking Rebecca, he wouldn't be getting out before his trial.

Brent had been there at Rebecca's to greet Patrick upon his arrival. He'd been sitting there in the driveway listening to the radio, acting as if nothing were wrong. Thankfully he'd done something to calm Rebecca down before he'd made it there, although Brent had never told him what he'd said. Patrick had words with Christopher the next day on base, furious that he'd sent Rebecca to his home alone. There'd been no stopping her, and Patrick knew she couldn't be argued with when her mind was made up. Short of Christopher physically restraining her, there was nothing he could do to convince her to calm down and not rush over to Patrick's. That didn't mean Patrick had been happy with him for letting her drive off alone though. Not when he'd promised to watch out for her.

"I haven't spoken to her in days," Patrick muttered. "I tried calling her last night, but she didn't answer. I didn't even leave a message. What was there to say? I couldn't tell her we were leaving."

Christopher nodded. "She'll come around. All of us can see you're crazy in love with the woman."

Patrick leveled him with a gaze.

"Hell, Ice, don't act like it's some big secret."

Patrick sighed. "I can't think about it now. We've got a mission, and I won't let a woman get in the way of that."

"She already is," Christopher said.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean, Blade?" Patrick asked, shooting him a steely glare.

"You've been moping around since last week. You'll work it out when we get back, so accept it and move on. Another week or two won't change anything."

"Since when the hell did you start giving out relationship advice?"

Christopher laughed. "I'm basing this on years of experience, man."

"Hell, I've never seen you with the same woman more than once," Brent said, coming up behind them. "So what is this experience you're referring to?"

"Fuck you," Christopher spat out good-naturedly.

Hell, they were deploying to the goddamn Middle East in mere minutes and those guys still couldn't stop ribbing each other about women. Some things never changed.

"What are you two bickering about?" Matthew asked.

"Christopher's giving out advice about the ladies," Brent said.

"I'm sure you needed it," Matthew retorted.

"Do I look like I have problems with that?"

Patrick steeled himself to refrain from mouthing off to any of them. Those guys were his brothers and had been there for him when the woman he loved was in danger. Who the hell was he to give them a hard time now?

In the meantime, wheels-up was in ten minutes. They didn't have time to joke around, and he forced himself to push any further thoughts of Rebecca from his mind. The fact that she was safe was all that really mattered for the moment—and that thought alone would be enough to keep him going during the long days and nights ahead.

#  Chapter 24

Rebecca and her daughter walked down the boardwalk together the following weekend. It was another perfect spring day, with a crisp, clear blue sky, and the sun shining brightly above them. Rebecca knew she should have been perfectly content enjoying the moment with her daughter. A light breeze blew off the ocean, kids shrieked with laughter, and happy families and couples surrounded them. It was exactly the type of day she would have enjoyed only a month or two ago, she realized. A wonderful afternoon at the beach, alone with her daughter, was exactly the way she'd have chosen to spend her weekend.

It was crazy how quickly everything had changed and her entire life had been turned upside down. First when Patrick waltzed into it, unknowingly sweeping her off of her feet and stealing her heart, and then when he'd just as quickly shattered her and then simply vanished.

Her fight with Patrick had been a week and a half ago, and save for when he'd called one night earlier this week but not left a message, she hadn't heard from him again. She'd watched his name flash across the screen of her cell phone that evening, and it had taken everything in her to ignore the call. She wanted to be with him, to talk everything over, but she just hadn't trusted her feelings at the moment. Their fight was too fresh, she still felt too raw, and she had to be completely _sure_ when she made a decision.

She couldn't just cut him out of her life so easily, and likewise, she couldn't just run back to him with open arms. So she'd waited a couple more days and then called him back, saying she'd be willing to talk if he still wanted that, but he hadn't returned her call. Several days had passed since then, and she had the horrible feeling that she wasn't going to hear from him. As desperate as he'd been to speak to her that night he came over to her house after the incident with Hale, he didn't seem that eager to talk now.

She fought back her tears as Abby pointed to her favorite ice cream shop, begging her mom for a treat. Going there now would remind her of Patrick, but it's not like she could avoid it forever. They'd gone there long before she'd met him, and they certainly could go there after. It's not like she'd necessarily _never_ hear from him again. Maybe he just needed some time, too. Or he'd moved on and right out of her life.

"Sure, honey, let's get some ice cream," Rebecca said.

She pulled open the door, and Abby ran inside, jumping up and down in excitement at the counter. She ordered ice cream for her daughter, and they went to sit at a table. Rebecca didn't even bother ordering coffee for herself this time—she'd had enough trouble sleeping without any extra caffeine keeping her awake at night.

Her dreams had been plagued with Patrick—some good, some bad. In one of them he'd been breaking up with her again, telling her to go, and she'd woken up crying. But the next night she'd dreamed he was slowly making love to her, kissing her passionately as he took her, his large body covering her, making her whole. It had been so vivid she'd actually orgasmed in her sleep, gasping with pleasure as she awoke. She'd felt happier than she'd been in ages before her heart sank, realizing it had just been a dream.

Abby inhaled the chocolate ice cream cone, barely pausing to take a breath. After she'd finished and Rebecca had cleaned her up, they headed across the street to her favorite playground. Rebecca's heart nearly stopped as she spotted Logan on the swings, right where they'd met him the first time.

Patrick was nowhere in sight, but there seemed to be an older couple with him, who she assumed must be his grandparents. She debated turning around and leaving, but Abby was already running to Logan in her excitement.

Rebecca reluctantly followed behind, smiling politely at the older woman standing by the swings as she helped Abby climb onto the one beside Logan.

"You must be Rebecca," the woman said, smiling warmly.

"Oh," she said, taken aback. "Yes." Unless Logan had told his grandmother her name when they'd been approaching a moment ago, which seemed unlikely, Patrick must have told them about her. She wasn't sure what to make of that.

"He really loves you," she said.

"Pardon?"

The woman laughed, crinkles forming around the edges of her eyes. "Patrick, my dear. He loved my daughter once, too, but their marriage didn't work out. And then cancer took her when she was far too young. I know he loves you though."

"I haven't heard from him," Rebecca said hesitantly.

Patrick had once told her that he left Logan with his grandparents when his SEAL team deployed. Did that mean that he was gone? Maybe that's why she hadn't heard from him again. She'd left him a message a few days ago, but he certainly didn't have his cell phone with him while deploying to who knows what part of the globe on a mission no one could know about.

"They left last week."

"Right," Rebecca said, tears filling her eyes. Is that why he'd called? To tell her that he was leaving? She felt awkward, and turned away, watching her daughter on the swings. She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry because she missed him or because she hadn't gotten to talk to him before he left. Maybe because now she had to worry when or if he'd come home at all.

"Loving someone isn't easy," the older woman said.

"No, I guess not," Rebecca said with a gentle smile, wiping her eyes.

"Can we all go to the beach again soon?" Logan asked her. "When my dad comes home?"

"Maybe," Rebecca said. "We'll have to see."

"My dad can call you when he gets home. Then we can all go together."

Rebecca laughed, tears openly spilling down her cheeks. If only everything were as simple as it seemed through the eyes of a child.

Then again, maybe it really was that easy. She loved him, she knew. When she'd been worried that Hale had hurt Patrick and when she found herself again worrying for his safety now, she knew without a doubt that once again she'd given her heart to another.

For the first time all week, she started to feel hope.

#  Chapter 25

" _Hi Patrick, this is Rebecca. I saw that you called a few days ago, and if you still want to talk, I'd like that. Give me a call when you get a chance. Bye."_

Damn it. She'd left the message over a week ago, just as he'd feared. He hoped like hell she hadn't spent the past week upset, wondering why he hadn't bothered to call her back. Thinking that he didn't even care. He should have tried harder to see her before he left—shown up on her doorstep, sent her flowers, anything. Hell, he'd have written her a damn love letter if he was the kind of man who'd think to do such a thing.

She'd asked for a few days to think things over, and although he had called her right before his SEAL team deployed, he'd been gone for two weeks. That meant she'd called him back ten days ago. Hell.

He dropped his gear onto his living room floor, wanting nothing more than a hot shower and his own bed. And at least twelve solid hours of sleep. Logan's grandparents said that he'd already gone to bed, so Patrick would pick his son up in the morning. There was no point in even attempting to get him tonight, because once that kid fell asleep, he slept like a rock.

He'd get Logan before breakfast, they'd spend the day getting in some father-son bonding, and then he'd go to Rebecca. It'd be a workday for her even though he had some time off. He'd keep Logan home from school tomorrow to enjoy their one-on-one time, and maybe they could go to Rebecca's together in the evening to surprise her.

He had about a million different things he felt like he needed to make up for, but maybe the kids could play while they talked. He'd do just about anything to get back in her good graces, and although showing up unannounced with his son wasn't ideal, he hoped it might take some of the pressure off. They'd see each briefly, talk a bit, and make plans to get together again, just the two of them.

He hastened a look around the room, his eyes barely able to stay open. It was hard to believe this was where he'd confronted her stalker a few shorts weeks ago. At the moment, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. Their mission had been so intense, he'd barely had time to think of anything back home. It was better that way, anyway. Patrick and his men needed to be one hundred percent focused, and he prided himself on being able to compartmentalize the other parts of his life. It's what had earned him his nickname, Ice. He was completely calm and focused. Always.

As much as he wanted to rehash the details of his past few weeks—of his mission, of his fight with Rebecca, of the day the stalker broke into his home—and as much as he needed to plan out how to approach her tomorrow, right now, the only thing he could think of was sleep. Anything else—everything else—would have to keep until morning.

***

Rebecca's case had gone well today. She had a male client for a change, and his wife had left him for an older man. They'd met with her and her lawyer, hashing out the details of the divorce in record time. Since the wife hadn't been concerned about their marital assets, what with her new sugar daddy, Rebecca's client had gotten everything he asked for.

She wished all of her cases could be that cut and dry, but she felt bad for the husband who'd had his heart broken. He was a sweet man, actually, and had even joked that he couldn't believe a woman like her was single. Was she?

It had been almost two weeks since she'd called Patrick. She'd run into Logan and his grandparents last weekend, so it was possible Patrick was still off on whatever mission he'd been deployed on. She realized that had only been a few days ago. The pit in her stomach grew a little more every day—both at her wanting to see Patrick again, feeling anxiety about the conversation they'd eventually have, and worrying about where he was and what he was doing. And of course, most importantly, if he'd make it back home. They were highly trained, she knew, but accidents could happen anywhere, anytime. Whenever he did return, she'd tell him she wanted a chance. She just had to hope that he hadn't moved on in their time spent apart.

She picked up Abby on her way home from work, and after a quick dinner, they went outside to play in the yard. It was the first time they'd played catch together since the man stalking her had talked to Abby, and despite the fact that she never knew he was there that evening, she felt slightly uneasy. There was no one here to harm either of them, now, but in the back of her mind she felt a little on edge.

When the black SUV pulled up to her curb a little while later, she realized what had her so worked up—Patrick was back. It was almost as if she'd sensed, that she _knew_ , something was going to happen this evening. She'd mistaken it for fear of her stalker, but it was as if her mind and body knew that Patrick was finally home.

Patrick helped Logan out of the car, and Logan ran to Rebecca and Abby. Patrick stood by the side of his SUV, watching, as if unsure how Rebecca would receive him. He was so silent and still that at first Rebecca wondered if he was angry—if he hadn't wanted to come at all. She felt uneasiness wash over her but bent down to hug Logan hello. He flung his arms around her, hot tears streaming down his little face.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, running her hand over his soft hair. She felt Patrick's eyes on her from across the lawn but kept her focus on Logan. She briefly wondered what Patrick was thinking, how he felt about her comforting his son. She didn't have time to consider it though, because Logan shook in her arms as his tears came down harder. Rebecca sank to the ground, pulling the little boy into her lap.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, buddy?"

"I missed my dad when he was gone," he whimpered.

"I know, sweetie. He missed you, too."

"I wanted to see you this week, when I missed my dad, but my grandma said we couldn't. That even though we saw you at the playground, we had to wait for Dad to come home to see you again." Logan sniffled, trying to put on a brave face, as Rebecca wiped his tears away.

"I'm sorry, buddy, but you know your grandparents love you too, right?"

"I wish you were my mom."

Rebecca's heart stopped for a moment and then resumed pounding rapidly in her chest. Logan's words swirled through her head, and she wondered how much, if any of this he'd shared with Patrick. They'd spent so much time together throughout the spring, it was no wonder Logan was confused. She held Logan closer and planted a kiss on his head. "That's very sweet, Logan. You know I love you, right? But right now I'm Abby's mom."

"I promise I'd be good," Logan whispered, daring to glance up at her with tear-filled eyes. "I'll help you take care of Abby."

Her heart felt like it had exploded. The tears filling Rebecca's own eyes couldn't be contained any longer, and they spilled out over her flushed cheeks. Patrick finally couldn't take it anymore, and he walked across the lawn in large strides and knelt down beside them.

"Why are _you_ crying?" he asked quietly, wrapping his muscular arms around both of them. Heat bloomed across her cheeks as she felt his warm embrace and smelled the clean soapy scent that was purely Patrick. She shook her head, hastily wiping her tears away. It was silly, really, crying over Patrick's son.

"I was wrong," she admitted, meeting his steel blue gaze.

"About what?"

"About us not being able to be together."

"How so?" he asked, hope rising in his voice.

"I need you. Just like Abby needs you, and Logan needs me."

"I always knew I needed you, sweetheart."

"Maybe we can go inside and talk? I'll put on a movie or something for the kids."

"I want to see a movie!" Abby shouted, dropping the ball she'd been holding onto the ground and running over.

"All right," Rebecca said, wiping her tears away. "Let's all go inside."

#  Chapter 26

"You know I couldn't tell you I was leaving, right?" Patrick asked earnestly, taking hold of Rebecca's hand as they stood in her kitchen. Sounds from the TV in the living room carried over, and they could hear Abby and Logan laughing in the background. "I couldn't leave a message like that on the phone."

"Yes, I realize that," Rebecca said. "It was just hard—I thought you were angry with me, and that's why you hadn't returned my call. I needed a few days just to think, and then when I didn't hear back from you...." Her voice trailed off, and she looked up, meeting his intense blue gaze.

He cupped her face with one hand, and his thumb traced over her lips, softly, gently.

"You're not mad at me anymore?" he asked, his voice low.

"No, I understand why you didn't tell me his name. You knew I'd do something to try and find him myself, and you were worried about my getting hurt. I understand why you did that, but you can't shut me out like that, Patrick."

"I won't, not when I can avoid it. You do realize I can never share my work with you—my job as a SEAL."

"I know. But if it involves me or my daughter, I have a right to know."

"It just about killed me to send you away from my house," Patrick said, his voice gentle.

"Me too," she admitted, tears once again filling her eyes.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," he said, pulling her tightly into his arms.

Rebecca rested her head against his chest, taking a deep breath, and allowing a few tears to slip down her cheeks. When he'd been gone, she'd been so worried she wouldn't ever be able to hold him again, to feel his muscular arms wrap tightly around her. No matter what happened, she didn't want to lose _this,_ this feeling of safety and comfort she had whenever Patrick was near.

"When did you get home?"

"Last night," he said, smoothing her hair with one large hand. "Logan was already asleep at his grandparents, so I just crashed."

"I was so surprised to see you tonight."

"I couldn't stay away."

They talked more, seated beside one another at her kitchen table. The kids were happily occupied with the movie, and although Rebecca checked on them twice, after an hour she realized their laughter had finally subsided.

Walking in to the living room, they found both Abby and Logan sound asleep on the couch.

"I better tuck her in," Rebecca said quietly. "You can put Logan in the guest room if you want."

Patrick eyed her, quickly assessing the situation, and agreed. A few minutes later Rebecca silently closed the door to Abby's room and backed out into the hallway. A moment later, Patrick was behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her close, his lips brushing against her hair.

"I've been dreaming about this for weeks," Patrick said, softly kissing her temple.

"About what?" she asked teasingly.

"This," he said, gently brushing her hair back and kissing the tender spot just behind her ear. "And this," he added, ducking lower to softly kiss her neck. "And these," he whispered, moving his hands so that they lightly cupped her breasts. She moaned and arched back into him as he begin kneading and caressing.

"I dreamed about kissing you and holding you. Making love to you."

"Patrick," she whispered helplessly as she melted back into his solid frame.

"You feel so good," he said huskily.

She twisted in his arms and slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. Patrick's heated gaze was fixed on her every move. Smiling, she grabbed his muscular forearm and gently tugged him toward her bedroom.

He seemed to snap out of his reverie, and he hastily slipped her blouse off her shoulders as they stepped through her doorway, letting it fall to the ground. He gazed at her lacy black bra and ducked down, kissing one breast right through the fabric. Warmth surged through her body at his hot lips on her, and she watched him, transfixed, crying out as he pulled her nipple into his needy mouth. Arousal pooled at her center, and she moaned as his muscular hand cupped her aching sex through her shorts.

"I need to taste all of you," he said desperately.

She nodded, reaching around to unfasten her bra. Patrick hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts and slid them down. Groaning as he gazed at her black satin panties, he lightly skimmed his knuckles across her stomach, leaving her trembling.

"Take those off," he said gruffly. She did as he asked, and then Patrick reclined on her bed, gripping her hips and lifting her atop him. "Come here," he said, pulling her up even more so that she straddled his face.

"Patrick," she gasped, trembling, as his tongue made one hard lick down the center of her sex.

She gripped onto her headboard, needing something, anything, to hold her steady as Patrick drove her out of her mind. He explored all her folds, lightly teasing and caressing her, tasting all of her juices. She moaned at the feeling of his mouth against her, of the way his tongue intimately stroked her. She was dripping with arousal, and he eagerly lapped up all of her sweet juices.

A moment later, he finally turned his attention to her throbbing clit. Gripping her hips tightly as he held her to him, he flicked his tongue back and forth, sending pleasure shooting straight through her.

"Oh God," she sobbed, trying to move away from the intense pleasure, but he held her firmly in place.

"I take care of what's mine," he growled. "I need to taste you, to pleasure you, and only then do I deserve to sink deep inside you."

"Patrick," she pleaded, needing more.

He devoured her as she gasped and then finally thrust his tongue into her molten core. Pulsing it in and out as she helplessly thrust against him, she nearly came undone.

Gently lapping at her again, he slid two thick fingers inside her. Her walls clenched down around him as he slowly thrust them in and out. He returned his mouth to her throbbing clit, lightly tickling her with pleasure as she whimpered. The combination of his fingers and tongue was almost too much for her to bear. He drove her higher and higher, leaving her desperate for release.

"Please," she cried out as waves of pleasure began to surge through her. The ministrations of his tongue became faster, and then Patrick finally sucked her clit between his lips, pushing her over the edge. She screamed, gasping and bucking as he held her to his face, letting her flutter against him and come on his mouth and tongue.

Patrick lifted her down to his lap and then gently rolled them both over so that she lay on her back with Patrick's large frame stretching over her own. There was nowhere else she wanted to be than beneath this powerful man, letting him love her. As he bent down to kiss her, she could taste herself on his mouth. He lined his erection up with her entrance and thrust into her slowly, gently, her walls still clenching around him as the last waves of her orgasm rolled through her.

He increased the tempo of their lovemaking, his thick length once again filling her up, stretching her, making her whole. He took her deeply, and with his powerful strokes, he once again claimed her, making her his, as their bodies moved together as one.

Her eyes locked with Patrick's, and she gasped as she began to orgasm once again. He ground himself down, rubbing his groin against her throbbing clit. As he did it once more, she cried out, clutching onto his broad shoulders helplessly as she once again fell off the precipice, lost in the pleasure he gave her as her orgasm went on and on.

Lost only in him.

Patrick looked at her with nothing but love in his eyes, and she knew then, without a doubt, that she loved this man, too. That she needed to be with him just as surely as she needed her next breath. That she finally needed him the way he'd needed her.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I've always loved you."

He kissed her once more as he powerfully released inside her, leaving them both breathless and spent, and then he held her close as they both finally drifted off to sleep.

♦ ♦ ♦

Thank you so much for reading Patrick and Rebecca's story! If you enjoyed this book, you'll love SEALED WITH A KISS. Find out what happens with Evan "Flip" Jenkins!

He won't let anything stand in their way. Not even her.

Alison Garrett doesn't do relationships. Especially with a younger man. After her heart's been trampled on in the past, she's reluctant to give the handsome Navy SEAL she met a shot at anything other than friendship. A barbeque with friends, couple of beers, and rock-hard abs aren't enough to change her mind. Even if he does ooze sex from his pores.

Navy SEAL Evan "Flip" Jenkins is used to getting any woman he wants. Except her. The strawberry blonde beauty he meets at a party catches his interest, yet eludes him. Their innocent flirting can't conceal the way he wants her—big time. He's down for the thrill of a chase, but what if she doesn't want to be caught?

When Evan's SEAL team is dispatched on a hostage rescue mission in enemy territory, Evan is critically injured, never letting Alison know his feelings. Will he get a chance to return to the woman he's fallen for? And more importantly—will she have him?

One-click SEALED WITH A KISS now!

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Join my Facebook group, Makenna Jameison Reader Group, for giveaways and sneak peeks of future books. Turn the page for an excerpt from SEALED WITH A KISS...

# SEALED with a Kiss Excerpt

Evan "Flip" Jenkins took a long pull from his bottle of beer, watching the strawberry blonde woman standing near the cooler, chatting with Evan's SEAL team member Patrick "Ice" Foster and Patrick's girlfriend, Rebecca. The woman's long hair gleamed in the sunlight, framing the delicate features of her porcelain skin and emerald green eyes. She burst out laughing, flashing a huge smile that lit up her entire face. Evan wished he was standing closer so he could've heard what made her laugh like that. What he wouldn't do to hear that sound again and again. It was light and carefree, sweet, and feminine. It filled his chest with a stirring he couldn't even begin to describe and seeped deep inside him, lighting his entire body with awareness and desire.

Her snug tank top highlighted her gorgeous curves, the swell of her breasts giving way to a small waist and slender hips. She wore a loose, long skirt beneath it—the swish of it against those silky legs as she walked around earlier had nearly killed him. How he longed to see exactly what was beneath it, the peeks of flesh he'd gotten taunting and teasing him with every delicate step she took. Her feet just barely peeked out beneath the bottom of it, and he saw a hint of dainty sandals and pink toenails. She was so sweet and feminine it practically hurt just to look at her.

A flush spread over her cheeks, probably from the summer heat, but Evan imagined she might look like that after a very thorough kissing from him, in which his hands skimmed over all those supple womanly curves and his mouth claimed hers. An even better image popped into his mind—the woman, crying out in pleasure from beneath his large frame after he'd thrust into her, making her come in his bed. The first of many times he'd pleasure her again and again.

"Man, you've got it bad...," his fellow SEAL Matthew "Gator" Murphy taunted, following Evan's gaze across the backyard.

"How do you figure?" Evan asked, his eyes not leaving the gorgeous redhead.

"You've been staring at her all night, and she hasn't glanced your way once. You're totally fucked."

Evan guffawed, spitting out his beer.

Matthew slapped him on the back and laughed. "Yep, just like I said. Totally fucked."

Evan bit out a curse and turned away, Matthew still chuckling in the background. As the youngest man on his SEAL team, Evan was used to the other guys ribbing him. Still, at twenty-seven, he wasn't exactly some kid fresh out of BUD/S. He'd joined the Navy right out of high school and had proudly served his country for the past nine years. He'd seen more life and death than most guys his age, and he'd accomplished more in his short career than some men could hope to achieve in their entire lives.

Although that earned him respect in other areas of his life, namely where civilians and women were concerned, the other men on his SEAL team still enjoyed giving him a hard time. Especially when it came to women. Those guys were like five big brothers—rough and tumble alpha males, like him, who fought hard and played harder and were fiercely protective of those they cared about. Their unbreakable bond had been tightly forged after years of training together in grueling situations on and off shore and repeated deployments to critical situations all over the world. They were ready to go at a moment's notice and fought swiftly as one unit, gauging each other's reactions and reading one another's thoughts as though their ties had been those of blood brothers.

Not that any of that mattered tonight, judging from the way the other guys were giving him shit over failing to impress a woman.

Hell.

Their team leader, Patrick, had invited the SEALs and their CO over for a barbeque at his place. Some mishap had prevented the CO from hosting it at his home, but Patrick didn't seem too put out by the change in plans. He'd been manning the grill throughout the evening while Rebecca directed guests to the beers in the coolers and food spread out on the table. And his often cold-as-ice team leader had never looked happier.

Hell, if Evan had a home of his own and a woman at his side, he'd be glad to host shit like this, too. Especially on a balmy summer evening like tonight. The air was warm with just a bit of the salty breeze from the ocean, the scent of the charcoal was mixing in with the delicious aroma of the food on the grill, and he was feeling a bit restless.

If he had a gorgeous lady in his life, he'd be able to enjoy burgers and beers with his buddies and then haul his woman off to bed when the evening was over, ravishing her until morning. Until they were both boneless with exhaustion and thoroughly sated.

Not gonna happen tonight.

The one-night-stands he'd enjoyed over the past few years—hell, the ones he'd enjoyed ever since he'd joined the military—just weren't cutting it anymore. He'd been too old for that kind of thing for a long time now. Sure, he enjoyed female company and the immediate sexual gratification that came from bedding a woman, but afterward? He'd be alone in his apartment night after night, waking up at the ass crack of dawn for PT and drills with no one to come home to at night.

Then he'd meet another woman the following weekend and repeat the cycle again. Ad nauseam.

The redhead his eyes had been glued on all night he'd seen before. He'd briefly met her in passing one day at Rebecca's a month or so ago. Somehow he'd gotten roped into dropping some shit off for Patrick, and she'd been heading out the door just as he got there. Cute little shorts, another tight tank top...hair pulled back in some kind of messy twist that looked cuter than hell on her. She'd grinned up at him, those big green eyes capturing his heart, and hurried off before he'd known what had hit him.

Damn if she wasn't even sexier tonight. Her skirt wasn't revealing like those shorts had been. It was sexier than hell though. Then there was the way all that strawberry blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders. It caressed her breasts as she'd walked around the backyard, enrapturing him. He wondered what all that long, silky hair would feel like whispering across his chest as she rode him. He'd twist his fingers through it, lost in her. Pump into her until she flushed and came for him.

Hell. He'd barely even spoken to her and was already imagining night after night of her in his bed.

He stalked toward the picnic table, which was currently overflowing with platters of food. Ribs, hot dogs, sausages, burgers—just about anything a man could want to chow down on. Patrick had obviously been in charge of the food. No doubt if Rebecca had selected the menu they'd be eating healthy grilled chicken and fish. Maybe those tiny little sandwiches women served at parties.

He grabbed a burger and side of ribs, scooping some potato salad onto his plate and finally adding a hot dog as well for good measure. If only catching the attention of that elusive redhead—Alison—was as easy as grabbing what he wanted for dinner. When they'd been introduced earlier, he'd tried to charm her with a little flirting. She'd politely shaken his hand, flashed him the sweetest smile he'd ever seen, and then breezed right by him, her eyes set on another member of his SEAL team.

It didn't help that when the guys had introduced him they'd pointed out he was the youngest of the men. Save for Patrick, they were all single, and eager for the attention of a gorgeous woman like Alison. Her eyes had lit up at the amount of testosterone filling the backyard as she scanned the crowd, and before he could even attempt to get to know her, she'd chased after some other guy.

She was barely a few years older than him, if that. Hell, at six-foot-two, he towered above her small frame by a foot. She was slender and petite, with a personality radiating warmth. He was tall with the build of a SEAL, of a man who spent hours doing PT and who had been hardened by war. He always treated women with respect but was used to commanding the attention of a room and getting the woman he chose.

With their testosterone-driven group, the women had always flocked to them. When the guys went out to Anchors, a popular bar near their base in Little Creek, Virginia, they'd practically be fighting the women off. If she thought a younger man couldn't provide for her, care for and pleasure her, she was dead wrong. He'd be more than happy to show her exactly all the ways he wished they were acquainted.

Balancing his plate of food in one hand, he grabbed another beer. His eyes scanned over the crowd, searching. Plotting. He was determined to find a way to catch her eye, and the night was still young.

Mission on.

One-Click SEALED WITH A KISS now!

# About the Author

Makenna Jameison writes sizzling romantic suspense, including the addictive Alpha SEALs series. She is a #1 Amazon bestselling romance author. Makenna loves the beach, strong coffee, red wine, and traveling. She lives in Washington DC with her husband and two daughters.

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# Books by Makenna Jameison

ALPHA SEALS

SEAL the Deal

SEALED with a Kiss

A SEAL's Surrender

A SEAL's Seduction

The SEAL Next Door

Protected by a SEAL

Loved by a SEAL

Tempted by a SEAL

Married to a SEAL

Seduced by a SEAL

Rescued by a SEAL

Stranded with a SEAL

Summer with a SEAL

SINFUL MARINES

One Night with a Marine

Her Sinful Marine

SOLDIER SERIES

Christmas with a Soldier

Valentine from a Soldier

In the Arms of a Soldier

Return of a Soldier

Summer with a Soldier

