The SEAL's Miracle Baby

She welcomed the breeze. Fresh air had never hurt a situation.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Now Jessie needed an antacid. Grady’s clipped tone alerted her to the fact that for him, there was no statute of limitations on hurt feelings. She’d hoped to at least pass the time with small talk, but it looked as though the only thing small in this car was Grady’s capacity for forgiveness.

Chapter Four (#ulink_8f17e72b-6047-57ae-950b-1c0350765051)

Grady was none too happy to find himself alone with Jessie. Even if the SUV her mom used for the day care smelled like a cross between Cheerios and crayons, Jessie’s faint strawberry lotion wreathed him in familiar scent. The fact that after all these years he still remembered that sort of detail about her only made his heart ache more.

Trying to play it cool, as if being next to her wasn’t killing him—he focused on driving along the five-mile stretch of blacktop country lane.

“How do you—”

“I take it—”

When they both talked at the same time, they laughed. For that instant, laughter was a good icebreaker, and loosened the knot between his shoulders. But then he remembered who he was dealing with—the woman who’d broken his heart. The returning tension hit like a two-by-four.

“You go first.” Jessie angled on her seat. “What were you about to say?”

“Judging by the car, and the Toddler Time logo on the doors, your mom still runs her day care?”

“Yep. Can you believe she’s also mayor?”

“Mom told me. How did that even happen?” As long as he’d been alive, the Rock Bluff political climate had been more of an old boys’ club. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for her, but was surprised.”

“Oh—I know. She ran on a lark. Her gardening club got bees in their bonnets about the old mayor—remember Fred Holscomb?”

“Sure. He’d been in office for, what? Like fifteen years?”

“Yep. Well, Mom’s club went before the city council with a proposal to beautify downtown—you know, adding things like hanging baskets of petunias to light posts and parking a few ornamental trees in fancy planters.”

“Sounds doable.”

“That’s what her club thought—especially since they’d raised the funding to make it happen. So they’re at the meeting, and all the ladies brought in cookies and brownies and Opal Mayville’s famous lemon bars for the council, when Fred starts spouting about what a pain his wife’s front porch flowers are, and how he gets sick of watering, and how, come August, everything’s just gonna burn up and die in the heat, so why even bother trying to plant anything? If it were up to him, the world would be a much better place covered in nice, low-maintenance concrete.”

“He really said that right in front of your mom?” Turning onto Old Barnsdale Road, Grady winced at the thought of the female wrath that opinion had no doubt raised.

“Yes, he did. Well, the meetings are televised on the new public-access channel a couple of high school kids put together, and the way Mom laid into him was epic. When he tossed out the challenge that if she thought she could do a better job as mayor, he’d darn well like seeing her try, she took him up on his offer and never looked back. Last November, after the garden club and quilting club and just about every other women’s group you can think of adopted her campaign, then voted in record numbers, she won in a landslide.”

“Damn...” On the main highway, Grady dodged debris piles. “Good for her. How’s she doing?”

“She’s holding her own.” Jessie’s tone held a note of pride. “For the first time since Carter was president, Rock Bluff has a balanced budget, and the firemen and police are thrilled with the change, because they never run out of baked goods for their break rooms.”

“Nice.” In the heart of the storm’s devastation, National Guard floodlights lit the way for dozer operators to work through the night. “So how does she have time for matchmaking and running her town and business?”

Jessie laughed. “Great question.”

They passed through the worst-hit area in somber silence. It went unsaid that the downtown that Billy Sue had wanted to beautify was no longer there.

Even this late at night I-35 traffic crawled, as it had been closed on both sides down to just one lane. Overturned cars had been moved onto the shoulders, and looked as if a giant had been playing Matchbox and thrown a tantrum. The headlights sparked on bits of tempered windshield glass littering the road.

“I still can’t believe this happened,” Jessie said. “In my dreams, everything’s back to normal, but then I wake and this nightmare is real.”

“Might take a while, but things’ll get better.”

“I know.”

His heart shattered when a glance her way showed her eyes shining with unshed tears. A fierce longing shot through him. He wanted to hold her, to promise everything would eventually be okay. He wanted to skim her soft hair back from her forehead, then kiss her lips and nose and cheeks, comforting her, reassuring her, loving her the way he used to when she’d bombed a test or gotten a flat tire. Never had he been more keenly aware of the fact that the old saying about not knowing what you’ve got until it’s gone was true.

They may have passed through the storm damage and now rode on a debris-free interstate heading north to Norman, but the personal wreckage between them spanned not miles, but time—nearly a decade. But no matter how much he wished to turn back those years, the Navy had hardened him, taught him to stay focused on reality. The here and now. And the reality of their whole, sad saga was that it was over.

His mind understood that fact.

The pain crushing his chest did not.

Away from her, it had been all too easy to compartmentalize what they’d once shared, to shove it into a dark corner, never seen by the light of day. Now, sitting her next to her, every so often catching whiffs of her strawberry lotion, made pretending she lived on a different planet kind of hard.

“Is being a SEAL everything it’s hyped up to be?” she asked. “Are you always trudging through swamps, carrying tons of equipment on your head?”

“Sometimes.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, glad for the opportunity to think about anything but his still-fierce attraction to her. “Depends on the mission. There was this one time when my team was hunting down a not-so-nice guy in a not-so-nice place I’m not allowed to mention when me and my friend Cooper drew the short straw and got stuck doing surveillance from a river. We breathed through snorkels and were only above water from our eyes up. We must’ve knelt on that muddy bottom for five or six hours when a snake passed by that was as big around as my thigh. Coop and I just froze. Like Indiana Jones, I can handle just about anything but snakes. Man, my heart beat so hard, it wouldn’t have surprised me had the bad guys heard it up in their camp.”

Jessie blanched. “That’s awful. Remember the time that cottonmouth chased us out of your dad’s catfish pond?”

“Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.” Grady shuddered. “I especially recall the part where you jumped on my back and let me do all the running.”

Her sly, sideways grin did funny things to his stomach. “Sorry, but you have tougher skin than me. Plus, you had on jeans and I was only in cut-offs and a bikini top.”

His recollection of that particular view made him instantly hard.

Mouth dry, body wanting what he could never again have, Grady returned his attention to driving instead of remembering how they’d laughingly retreated to his old tree house, where he’d untied her top, and helped her out of her shorts.

As if she remembered, too, she turned from him to stare out her window. “That mean old snake’s probably still there.”

“Probably.” Along with the remains of what we once shared.

* * *

“SOMETIMES I’D REALLY love to shake my mother...” By the time Grady parked the SUV in front of the health food store that had closed two hours earlier, Jessie’s nerves were shattered. She’d tried keeping conversation casual, but every topic led to times they’d spent together. “I knew this would happen, and I feel like a fool for not just calling myself to check the store hours.”

“Yeah.”

Yeah? Did that mean he agreed with her that she should have called? Nice. Too bad he hadn’t always been this much of a charmer, or she never would have fallen for him.

They left Norman’s quiet streets to rejoin the interstate’s ever-present bustle.

Despite being surrounded by so many people in all the passing cars, Jessie couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more alone. Grady was right there—close enough that if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him, skimming his strong, tan forearm. Or entwine their fingers. The knowledge that she would never again experience that sweet, simple pleasure of holding his hand ruined her. The pain collected at the back of her throat, closing off her air and stinging her eyes.

When her cell rang with her mother’s familiar cheery tone, Jessie was so flustered by the weight of her and Grady’s shared past that she struggled to even find her phone. “Hello?”