Forever with the SEAL (HERO Force Book 8) Page 5

  “Wait. Jesus, Mac.” Hawk ran his hand through his hair. “You don’t make this easy, do you?”

  Mac put his hands on his hips and waited for the euphemisms to come pouring out of Hawk’s mouth, the half-baked reasons he didn’t want a force of losers working for him.

  “Okay,” said Hawk.

  “Okay what?”

  He nodded. “I’ll run it by Jax. Tell him it’s what I want, that I’m behind you one hundred percent. I think he’ll want to help these guys, too. If he approves it, you can run the new HERO Force any way you see fit, as long as they’re good soldiers. I trust you.”

  Mac lifted his chin. “The best.”

  A new office. A new job. A chance to get back everything he’d lost. Mac smiled. “Let’s do this.”

  10

  Olivia’s whole body ached from fighting against her attacker, but none of her bones were broken. She had a slight concussion from hitting her head when she was thrown into the van and enough bruises to keep the makeup department busy for hours, but she was going to be okay.

  She’d faced the boogeyman who’d been terrifying her for weeks and was that much stronger for it. The reality of the monster who was after her was far easier to take than the fear of who he might be and what might happen to her at his mercy.

  The fact that she’d been betrayed by the man who was supposed to protect her wasn’t lost on her, though one thing failed to make sense. The bodyguard was brought on board after she first received a threatening note, not before.

  Maybe he was working elsewhere on the movie.

  He clearly had his sights set on her even before he’d been granted such good access. Maybe he’d even asked for the job when it became available.

  She shook her shoulders. It was difficult to imagine the mind of a stalker. Truly upsetting, and the last thing she needed right now was to be upset.

  She turned her thoughts to Trevor, her mind replaying the scene as he’d darted from relative safety behind a vendor cart across the expanse between them. She’d thought for sure he’d be killed. His name had been torn from a vulnerable place deep inside her, the scream of a woman with more to lose than she’d ever realized in her life.

  Remembering the moment, a tear slipped down her cheek, then another. It felt good to cry after all she’d been through, and she wept wholeheartedly for what might have been. By the time Trevor walked in, she was all worked up. She covered her face with her hands and wiped at her eyes.

  “Why are you crying?”

  She frowned harshly, trying not to break down again. “Because I love you so much and I almost lost you forever.” She reached for him and he sat on the edge of the bed, holding her. “I’m sorry I’m so emotional.”

  “Shh. It’s okay. You’re the one I almost lost.”

  “Before that,” she said. “I didn’t know how to tell you what I needed from you.”

  “Which is?”

  “I have to be stronger than I have been. I can’t hide behind a man, even if that man is you.”

  “I never asked you to hide behind me.”

  “No, but I did it anyway. You led and I followed. You talked and I listened. I didn’t matter to myself as much as you mattered to me.”

  He cupped her cheek. “And I was the opposite. I put myself before you, when I should have put you before everything. It won’t happen again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to start another HERO Force office. One I own myself so I can decide when I work and when I take care of my family. Mac’s willing to help me.”

  “Your family?”

  “Yes. You and me, for starters, but I hope we have a couple of kids, too. Marry me, Olivia.”

  How many times had she imagined him asking? But in the time she’d been here, she’d changed the way she saw herself—especially in a relationship. “How do we know it will work? That we can walk alongside each other instead of one in front of the other?”

  “We don’t. We have faith and we work hard. We love each other and we work together to change what needs fixing. I want to be your husband, Olivia. I want you by my side, and I want to be there for you, always—through the good times and the bad.”

  “And if I’m scared?”

  “All the good stuff is scary.” He chuckled and kissed the back of her hand. “But I’ll wait as long as it takes. We don’t have to do this now unless you want to.”

  She thought of the time she’d spent away from him working on the film. How much she’d missed him. There was no question she wanted to marry him; there was only her own uncertainty about how she was changing. “I’ve been standing behind people for so long, I need to lead the way for a while.”

  “There’s no one I’d rather follow,” he said.

  “You mean that?”

  He nodded. “You might have to put me in my place once in a while. Wrestle me to the ground, that kind of thing.”

  She laughed. “I can do that.”

  “So you’ll marry me?”

  Become his wife. Face the rest of their lives together, helping each other grow into the best they could be. She could trust him to do that. She knew she could. A smile spread slowly across her face, accompanied by a sense of peace. “I will.”

  He kissed her, their lips sealing the deal to become husband and wife. “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “I love you, too. More than you know, Livy.”

  11

  The lavender field was in bloom, the fragrant blossoms permeating the warm evening air as Trevor stood beside Olivia in the setting sun with a preacher who barely spoke English and Mac, their witness.

  She wore a plain white dress that hung off her shoulders and gathered at her waist, accentuating her figure and revealing her creamy skin. He thought of the ornate bridal gowns so many women wore, their hair perfectly coiffed, while Olivia’s blew in soft waves on the gentle breeze.

  She was beautiful, pure and true. The most simple and complicated woman he’d ever known, and the only one he wanted to spend his life with. He swallowed against a knot that was forming in his throat as the preacher began the ceremony. Then she was talking, the look in her eyes reflecting what he knew must be shining from his own.

  “I, Olivia, take you, Trevor, to be my husband. To love and to cherish, to worship with my body, to shelter with my soul, forsaking all others. I promise to be true to you, to accept you as you are and as you grow and become the man you’re meant to be.”

  Trevor was smiling as he slid the gold band onto her finger. It looked good there, and he imagined it still catching the light when her hand was old, his love for her just as strong as it was today. He licked his lips. “I, Trevor, take you, Olivia, to be my wife. To love and to cherish, to worship with my body, to shelter with my soul, forsaking all others. I promise to help you shine, to lift you up and honor the woman you are, now and forever.”

  “You may kiss your bride,” said the preacher.

  Trevor took her face in his hands and touched her lips with his own, savoring the moment, noting the breeze against his skin, the warm fragrance on the air, determined to remember it always.

  Her arms went around his neck and she pulled back, smiling at him. “Do you mean that part about lifting me up?” she asked.

  “I sure do.” He bent and scooped her into his arms, making her laugh.

  “I wish you much good fortune,” said the preacher with a chuckle, walking away.

  “I’m going to head out, too,” said Mac. “I’ll be in touch before we fly to New York.”

  “Sounds good,” said Trevor. He waited for his friend to start his car before dropping to his knees in the lavender field. Olivia giggled as he laid her on the ground, following her down with his body.

  “You’re not seriously doing this,” she said.

  “These lavender plants are pretty tall.”

  She hit his back as he kissed her again, settling his weight against her. “We’re going to get arrested for indecent exposure.”


  “Do they have that in France?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s find out. It will be a great story to tell our grandchildren.” He was kissing her, the need to connect with her stronger than ever. She hummed softly as she opened her mouth to his, their tongues dancing as she moved beneath him.

  “We are not telling anybody about this.”

  He’d pulled her to the ground as a joke, but his body was quickly convincing him to make love to her. “Let me make sure they’re gone.” He sat up, seeing both the preacher and Mac’s cars had left the area. In the distance, a summer storm turned the sky purple, the line between it and the blue sky above them sharp and beautiful, making him sure they indeed stood before God on their wedding day.

  He turned back to his wife, suddenly choked by emotion. The hem of her dress was pushed to the tops of her thighs, a pink flush covering her chest and cheeks, and he quickly forgot the approaching storm. He ran his hands up her shapely legs and pulled her panties down, kissing his way back up until he licked the swollen folds of her sex, settling on the sweet bud between them.

  Her moans of pleasure carried on the fragrant air, the scent of the approaching storm now present, too. The first drops of rain struck his skin as she climaxed beneath his ministrations, and he moved up her body, pulling the neckline of her dress down to reveal her bare breasts.

  “I love you, Olivia Hawkins,” he whispered, taking her in his mouth and suckling her nipple, one hand freeing himself from the confines of his pants. The rain was sprinkling now, wetting her skin, and he licked the water off her on the way to kiss her mouth once more.

  She guided him into her body as thunder cracked quietly in the distance, the sound mingling with their heavy breaths as he lost himself in the sensations of loving her.

  This was his wife. They moved together, each one half of the whole, becoming something greater than they had been on their own. He came with a rush of emotion, their bodies one beneath the purple clouds, hers milking him with the strong strokes of her orgasm.

  When the last of the tremors subsided, she linked her ankles behind his rain-dappled ass. “I’ll love you forever,” she whispered.

  Forever.

  Thunder rolled, contentment filling him up and welling over. “Me, too.”

  12

  It rained on their way back to the hotel, which Olivia insisted was good luck. She stared at the fields of lavender as they sped past, strips of earth flashing between their purple rows. Trevor reached over and took her hand, her smaller fingers curling around his, and she sighed, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

  It was nearly dark by the time they reached the hotel. A ridiculously large bouquet of deep red roses stood on the table in their room.

  Olivia cocked her head. “I wonder who sent them.” She’d told several members of the cast and crew about her impromptu wedding today, taking special joy in telling Lockheed she wouldn’t be on the set. It was just as well, since the shower scene they were filming didn’t involve her.

  “There’s a card,” said Trevor.

  She picked it up, the angry slant of the black penmanship conjuring a visceral reaction. She gasped, suddenly lightheaded. “It’s him.”

  Trevor cursed as he took it from her hand and read it out loud. “Congratulations on your marriage. Love always, Evan Lockheed.”

  She braced herself on the back of a chair. “Lockheed was the stalker. Then how was the bodyguard involved?”

  A metallic click made her turn around. There stood the director in the open doorway, a gun in his hand. “He’s my cousin, Reynaldo. Not the brightest crayon in the box. He caught me sneaking into your room and I had to tell him something.” He moved deeper into the room. “Terribly afraid of the occult, that one. You’ve got to admit, I did a pretty good job acting innocent. Maybe I should have been on the other side of the camera acting with you.”

  “You have no right to be here,” she said, her voice low and menacing. She’d been scared too many times, afraid of the unknown, the mystery man now revealed. Facing him made her strong. There was nothing Evan Lockheed could do to her that he hadn’t already done in her terrified imagination. She lifted her chin. “Get out.”

  He jerked his head back. “I love you, Olivia. You have to know that by now.”

  “You are a self-centered, egotistical micromanaging asshole, and I most certainly don’t love you,” she said.

  Lockheed’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring. He turned toward Trevor. “You did this to her.” He lifted the gun.

  “No!” screamed Olivia, reaching for the weapon.

  But Trevor was already in motion, his foot connecting with the revolver and sending it flying. “Freeze.” Just like that, he held his own weapon trained on Lockheed.

  The director looked at her, his dark eyes nearly black in the dimly lit room. He was menacing, but she refused to cower.

  “What are you going to do if I don’t?” Lockheed asked. He took two steps toward Olivia.

  Hawk fired. Lockheed stood motionless for a beat before falling to the floor.

  “Are you okay?” asked Trevor.

  “Yes.”

  The sound of someone running outside the door had Trevor on alert, his weapon at the ready as he stepped into the hallway, ready to shoot. “Jesus, Mac, you fucking scared me.”

  “Lockheed was the stalker, not the bodyguard,” said Mac, reaching the room.

  “Yeah, we figured that out,” said Hawk, putting his weapon away. “How did you know?”

  “The bodyguard survived his injuries. After a good dose of lithium, he couldn’t say enough about his cousin the director and Lockheed’s manipulation of his fears. Led us right to him.”

  Olivia stared at Lockheed’s lifeless body. She’d stood up to him, just like the marquess would have done, but it didn’t feel like she was acting. It felt like she was strong. She took a deep breath.

  “You okay?” asked Trevor.

  She nodded. “I’m going to be just fine.”

  13

  Two months later, New York City

  You wouldn’t know they were fucked up to look at them.

  Physically, Mac’s SEALs looked just like Jax’s crew down in Atlanta, their broad muscles and trim fatigues making them appear imposing. So far, Trevor had resisted the temptation to ask the stories behind the men—the reasons these twelve men had each been selected by Mac.

  He stepped out of his office at the new HERO Force headquarters and onto his private terrace overlooking the New York Public Library and Bryant Park behind it. Olivia stood with her back to him, but turned at his approach and smiled. “It’s beautiful out here,” she said.

  “My wife has excellent taste in real estate.” He wrapped his arms around her midsection. They were settling into married life, spending time together in their new apartment, and getting to know New York City. It was a whole new life from the one they were sharing before she went to France. It was better than he could have imagined.

  She leaned her head back against his shoulder. “Are you sure these men will be okay?”

  “Mac believes in them, and I believe in Mac.”

  “Are they all from your SEAL team?”

  “No, only one. He did another tour since I saw him last, though.”

  “Hmm. What about the others?”

  “I’m not sure. But I trust him.” Mac had sobered up and was back to his old self, for all intents and purposes.

  She sighed and twisted around to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I heard from my agent. I got the part.”

  “That’s great. When does it start?”

  “We’re filming on location in Vancouver starting in March.”

  “HERO Force should be up and running by then. Mac won’t need me here.”

  “You’re sure you don’t mind coming?”

  He rested his forehead on hers. “You’re the most important thing in my life. I’m not going to forget that ever again.”

&nb
sp; She kissed him soundly on the lips. “I love you, Trevor.”

  He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “I’ll bet you’re glad I ran into your car on that mountaintop.”

  She hit his chest. “You’re just lucky you didn’t kill me.”

  “Hey, if I were a better driver, none of this would have happened. You should be grateful I crashed into you.”

  She laughed and turned back to face the skyline. “Every day, you idiot. Every stinking day.”

  Epilogue

  Mac leaned back in his chair and rubbed his knuckles over his lips, staring at the list of names on his computer screen.

  One of them might be his wife.

  He’d been sober for four and a half weeks—what some people might call a month—but he’d barely graduated from counting days and wasn’t ready to change units again just yet.

  It was HERO Force that got him through. Flying across the country collecting his recruits like a child plucking seashells from the shore. These men needed him more than he needed to drink, and for now, it was enough.

  All but one of the guys had come easily. Because of the way they were, they didn’t have relationships that tethered them to their towns, no wives or children who needed to move across the country. Families were for men who had something to give, and his shattered SEALs had a whole lot of nothing.

  They’d stayed in shape, for the most part. Pumping iron had a tendency to keep you sane when life tried to flush you away. Mac had kept it up, too, during his time in France—exercising between daily hangovers and that night’s drinks.

  Yes, he knew from whence they came, and his rules for the men were the same as his rules for himself. You need to be sober. A couple were on pain pills, but those had to go, too. It was easy to fall into that trap. The wounds of war were painful, doctors all too eager to prescribe something to take that pain away. Throw in a good shot of depression and you were lucky more of these men didn’t end up addicted.