The Seal's Surrender. Maureen Child
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carried.
“What is it?” she asked as she reached for it. “Hemlock?”
“Nothing so deadly,” he said with a half laugh. “Just water.”
She took a drink, letting the liquid soothe her tight throat before trying to talk again. Lifting her gaze to his, she said, “Thank you. For the tissue and the water.”
“Here to serve, ma’am,” he said.
“But I bet you didn’t expect to have to go above and beyond the call at a party.”
He shrugged. “Hey, a party, a terrorist situation—the SEALS can handle it all.”
“Good to know,” she muttered, then, still clutching her glass of water, turned around again to stare out at the lake. She couldn’t keep looking at him. That just wasn’t good for her equilibrium. Way better on her nerves to stare out at a lake the size of an ocean, its choppy waves slapping toward Lake Shore Drive.
“Tell me about your daughter,” he said quietly and Jennifer’s eyes closed briefly on a twinge of something as painful as it was tender.
But she supposed she owed him this, for crying all over him.
“Sarah’s so smart,” she said, and though her voice started out thin and trembling, talking about her pride and joy strengthened it. Shaking her head, she continued, “She started talking before she was a year old and now she’s already arguing with me.” Jennifer chuckled, and the sound grated against her throat. “When she’s a teenager—” when not if, she told herself silently “—we’ll probably lock horns all the time.”
“Probably,” he said agreeably. “God knows Doug and I drove our poor mother nuts when we were teenagers. Of course your Sarah most likely won’t be into drag racing, so that’s one worry you won’t have.”
She flicked him a glance, not at all surprised by his little admission. He was a SEAL, after all. And clearly he loved his job. So it naturally followed that as a kid, he would have sought out dangerous pastimes.
Just like Mike, she thought with an inward acknowledgment of old pain. The two of them would have gotten along great together, no doubt. Then, as if he’d sensed what she was thinking, the man beside her spoke up again.
“Your husband must be just as proud of her as you are,” Chance said.
“My husband’s dead,” she said, tasting the words it had taken her so long to get used to saying.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” he said.
“You didn’t know,” she said softly. “No reason to be sorry. He’s been gone almost two years now.” She sighed heavily. “He never even knew Sarah.”
A long uncomfortable minute passed before he said, “I was raised by a single mother,” he said. “I know how hard it is.”
She looked up at him, into those whiskey-colored eyes and read understanding there. And darn it, she appreciated it. Though Emma was beyond kind and a good friend as well as an employer, she couldn’t really appreciate what it was like to be the sole person responsible for raising a child. Not when she had Grant, as much in love with her today as he had been years ago.
Then he said, “If you don’t mind my asking, how did your husband die?”
“Mike was a police officer,” she said, lifting her chin just a bit. “He was killed in the line of duty. I was still pregnant with Sarah when he died. He never even saw her.”
“Maybe he did,” Chance said and she looked at him. “Maybe he sees her every day.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“I’ve seen enough things over the years to convince me that anything’s possible.” He paused for a long minute, then said, “I never knew my father, either.” Then he stopped and laughed shortly. “At least, not until a few days ago.”
She shook her head in sympathy, though she was glad to turn the subject away from Mike. “I can’t even imagine what that must be like,” she said, choosing her words carefully now. “Finding your blood father after so many years…”
He nodded, lifting his face into the cold, sharp wind. “I know what you mean. I’m not real sure how I feel about it, either. But,” he said, giving a quick look over his shoulder, “it meant something to Doug, so here I am.”
“You only came here for your brother’s sake?”
“Why else?”
“To get to know your family?”
“Nah. My mother’s gone now, so my family is Doug. The rest…” He shook his head again as if he didn’t know quite what else to say.
“The Connellys are nice people,” Jennifer said, wanting him to know that this new family of his was ready and willing to welcome him.
“Seem to be.”
“They’ve been wonderful to me and Sarah.”
He gave her a slow smile. “If your daughter’s anything like you, I can’t see that that would be a hardship.”
Oh, that smile was just as dangerous as the man, she told herself, taking a mental step backward. She didn’t need this kind of complication right now. Her world was Sarah. Her attentions had to be devoted to making her little girl well again. And to help her keep her attentions focused, she knew the best thing to do was to keep her distance from this man.
“I, uh—” She glanced at the sliding glass doors with real regret. Though she knew she had to leave the balcony, she wasn’t looking forward to making small talk while her heart was aching. Still, this party was a big deal for Grant and Emma. Hadn’t Jennifer and her employer been planning it for weeks? No, heartache or not, she had to do her job. “I’d better get back inside,” she said and even she heard the reluctance in her voice.
Chance straightened away from the railing and looked from the doors to her. She wasn’t ready to go back in there and face the chattering mob. He could see it in her eyes. The vulnerability was still there, etched deep.
It was none of his business, of course, but still, he felt a kinship of sorts with her. She was a single mother, as his own mom had been. Her husband had served the public, his country, as Chance did, only he had paid the ultimate price. A rising wave of protectiveness filled him and before he could think more of it, he said, “I think the party can get along without either of us. So why don’t you let me take you home instead?”
She thought about it for a long minute, and he could see in her eyes just how much she wanted to get out of here. The question was, would she?
“As much as I’d like to,” she said, “I don’t think I should—”
“With that crowd in there, no one will even miss us.”
“Emma would.”
He acknowledged that with a brief nod. “Okay, then, we’ll stop and tell her we’re leaving. I should say thanks, anyway.”
Now that her objections were taken care of, all that was stopping her from taking him up on his offer was the fact that he was a virtual stranger—long-lost relative of her employer or not. “You can trust me,” he said softly.
Her lips twitched slightly. “It’s not that,” she said.
“Then what? I’m just offering you a ride home, not a weekend trip to Jamaica.” Why was he trying so hard to convince her? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that suddenly he needed to be the one to see her safely to her door.
She looked beyond the glass doors again to the party, and he saw her shudder. She really didn’t want to go back in there. And damned if he could blame her. He had no interest in rejoining the mob, either.
And playing on that feeling, he said, “You’d be doing me a favor.”
“What?”