The SEAL's Miracle Baby. Laura Marie Altom
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look good.” She appraised him. “Healthy.”
Wow. Talk about a less-than-stellar evaluation. “You, too.”
“H-How long are you in town for?” She’d tugged a strand of hair from her ponytail and twirled it through her fingers. It was a nervous habit. One he’d watched a hundred times during University of Oklahoma football games.
“Two weeks.”
“That’s not long.” She twirled faster.
“Nope.” What could’ve only been thirty seconds stretched into a year.
“It’s good seeing you, Grady.” She hitched her thumb in the direction her mom had gone, then started to follow. “I need to help wash clothes.”
When she was gone, the sun shone dimmer.
No one in his whole life had hurt him the way she had. How many times had he told himself he hated her? He’d planned all the snide or clever things he would say when their inevitable reunion finally rolled around. Yet there it went, already come and gone, and he felt like a sixth grader ogling a high school cheerleader. What was it about her that had him trapped for all this time in her spell? How could he once and for all vanquish her from not only his mind, but his heart?
* * *
“GRADY LOOKS GOOD, doesn’t he?” Billy Sue sprayed a pretreatment solution on Jessie’s favorite jeans.
“He’s all right.” Jessie filled the utility sink with warm water, dumping in a few capfuls of detergent for her hand washables. She was so bone-deep tired that she was sure the gravity of what the next two weeks truly meant hadn’t fully sunk in.
Other than her parents, the only person she’d ever loved was Grady. What did she do with that fact?
“Still have feelings for him?” Her mother shook matted leaves from a pair of sweats and into a trash bin.
“No.”
“That why you broke things off?” Why did her mom keep pushing? It wasn’t like her to be all up in Jessie’s private business.
“If you don’t mind—” she gave a pair of socks an extrahard shake “—I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Honey...” Billy Sue blasted her with a look of parental concern. “Maybe I can help. All those years ago, I thought he left you for the Navy.”
“He did.”
“But you told him to go?”
Jessie shrugged. “I guess. Sort of. But, Mom, you know about...my situation.”
“Wait—that’s why you broke things off with him? Honey, why? Did you tell him and he was upset?”
Fighting the knot at the back of her throat, Jessie shook her head.
“He wasn’t upset?”
“I didn’t tell him.”
* * *
“BILLY SUE, I CAN’T thank you enough for this meal and—” Grady’s throat tightened when his mother’s voice cracked “—your hospitality. I’m not sure what we’d do without you and Roger.”
“Aw, it’s our pleasure.” Billy Sue and his mom shared a hug.
The early spring air held a chill, but the outdoor fireplace kept the area around the table warm. Jessie’s parents’ home had been built on the town’s only hill, which meant the pool deck’s view was expansive. On a clear night, you could just make out the Oklahoma City skyline. On this night, the National Guard’s generator-powered emergency lights securing downtown Rock Bluff punched through the dust just far enough to make it look like swirling ground fog.
Roger asked, “Grady, could you please pass the rolls?”
“Ah, sure...” He could, but that would entail looking at Jessie. Didn’t her father know how hard Grady had worked to keep his gaze focused on anything but her?
During the exchange, their fingers brushed.
Jessie released the basket so fast that it dropped. Cloverleaf rolls scattered.
Cotton darted from beneath the table to sink his teeth into one, dragging it under an azalea bush.
“Sorry,” Jessie said.
“No problem.” Grady snatched the empty basket, setting it back on the table.
“It’s a problem for me,” Roger said with a chuckle. “I really wanted another roll.”
For his mom’s sake, Grady suffered through another thirty minutes of small talk, but then he helped clear the table and made a beeline for his room, where he’d stashed the six-pack he’d picked up from the lone surviving liquor store. It’d been a madhouse, and Grady couldn’t say he blamed folks for wanting to drown their sorrows in a bottle.
He’d managed a whole five minutes of nursing a beer while studying the manual on the new dive computer he’d soon be using when someone knocked on his door.
“Come in,” he hollered.
Only after Jessie entered, closing the door behind her, did he get the bright idea that he should’ve faked sleeping. A fact that shamed him back to grade school. The guys on his SEAL team would laugh their asses off to see how pathetic just a few hours spent around her had made him. Hell, on base, the guys called him Sheikh, on account of him having a virtual harem of women trying to get his ring on their fingers. What his friends didn’t know was that Grady hadn’t wanted any of them.
Jessie was his only girl.
He downed the rest of his beer and opened another.
“We need to talk.”
“I’m sleeping.”
“Don’t be stupid.” She hefted herself up to sit on the low, sturdy oak dresser. Not a good thing, considering she wore a denim miniskirt and tank top. When she crossed her legs, he caught a peek of yellow panties.
He took another drink, then covered his fly with his binder.
“All right.” She tucked her long, distractingly gorgeous blond hair behind her ears. “So this whole setup pretty much sucks for both of us, but let’s cut the tension and get through it like adults.”
“How?” Especially when that tank’s hugging your curves like paint and I remember you riding me with that hair of yours hanging all loose and wild?
“Come on, Grady. The statute of limitations has long expired on breakup hard feelings.”
“Says who?” He shoved an extra pillow behind his head. “From where I’m sitting, I’m still mad as hell.” He downed his second longneck and went in for a third.
She had the gall to cross her arms and roll her eyes.
“You think I shouldn’t still be pissed? I asked you to marry me. You accepted.”
“Almost a decade ago!” She smacked the dresser top. “Get over it. That’s ancient history.”
“The hell it is.” He sprang from the bed, planting his hands on either side of her, pinning her in, but not touching her—not giving her the satisfaction of him touching her. “Give me an honest reason, and I’ll let it go. More than anything, I want to let this—you—go, but you’re stuck in my head.”
“Sorry.”
“I need a reason, Jess.”
She raised her chin. “You know the reason.”
“Oh, right—you don’t love me.”
“Of course not. It’s been forever since I’ve even seen you. You’re a stranger. I’m happy without you.”
“Which is