A SEAL's Kiss

“I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Besides, you had fun taking me to prom,” she claimed.

Fun? Maybe.

But it’d also been his first introduction to torture, realizing that Sage was everything he found sexy in a woman, and completely off-limits.

Which put that night at the top of his most-regrettable choices list. For a Special Forces officer who’d served multiple missions during wartime, that was saying something.

“Sage.” Through playing word games, he wanted information. And his expression made it clear he was going to get it.

“You can be such a grump,” Sage said, pulling a silky dress of some sort over her head. He should have been relieved when the mossy green fabric covered all that tempting flesh. That he wasn’t, he figured, was due to her not giving him his usual buffer time between his typical instant lust for her and the point when his well-honed discipline kicked in.

“A grump who’s engaged to be married, apparently,” Aiden pointed out. Better to take control of the conversation and get right to the point. Otherwise who knew where this discussion would meander.

Despite the worry still etched on her forehead, Sage clapped her hands together and gave him a pleased smile. Why he’d expected her to look ashamed was beyond him.

“Oh, good. You’ve already heard. That makes breaking the news to you easier.”

Aiden tilted his head to one side and shook it a little, wondering if that’d shake his brain cells into the same odd configuration as Sage’s apparently were.

“Do you regret nothing, ever?” he asked in wonder.

“Regret? What’s to regret?” Suddenly as serious as he’d ever seen her, her face grew ferocious and her eyes fierce. She threw both hands in the air. “My father is dying, Aiden. Hearing that you and I were engaged was like giving him a huge dose of hope. Even his doctor said it’s been great for him. Why on earth would I regret that?”

It was like taking a mortar shot to the gut.

Fast, painful and devastating.

For a second, Aiden couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t begin to process the immensity of her words, of what they meant.

Clearly not quite the way she’d planned to break it to him, Sage slapped her hand over her mouth, her expression horrified. Then her eyes filled with tears. Before he could decide if he should hug her or run, she held out both hands as if to say wait. It only took her a couple of breaths to regain her composure, then she sank onto the couch and gestured that she’d wait until he had processed it all.

How did someone prepare for this kind of hit?

He was trained in war. He was skilled in strategy and stealth ops. He’d learned early into his career with the SEALs to build into every relationship the strong possibility of an abrupt goodbye.

Hell, his career had been founded on loss.

But this?

This was something different.

Suddenly feeling as if his entire world was made up of destruction and death, Aiden pushed his hand through his short-cropped hair and tried to gather his thoughts.

Self-pity and drama wouldn’t help anyone, least of all the Professor. And as Sage had already made clear, finding ways to help the older man was their top priority.

“What’s the diagnosis?” he asked quietly, finally ready to hear the details.

“Stage three pancreatic,” she said hoarsely, watching her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress instead of meeting his eyes. Her way of keeping control of her emotions, he knew.

He needed to research this cancer. See what studies had been done, what treatments were offered. Perhaps there was something experimental they could explore.

But hope and a positive attitude would go further than any treatment, Aiden knew. An oncologist specializing in rare forms of cancer, his own father had shared more than one story about miracle recoveries based on nothing more concrete than optimism and faith.

“Tell me what you’ve done,” he finally said, dropping into a wing-backed chair and gesturing that he was ready to deal with whatever she could dish up.

“It all started when Nina—who just eloped, by the way—tried to fix me up with some guy,” Sage began. By the time she’d wound her way around to how her father had heard about their fake engagement at the same time he was telling her the news about his illness, Aiden was shaking his head in awe.

Despite the craziness, it actually all made perfect sense. Well, Sage sense, which was usually perfect in hindsight.

“So that’s how we ended up engaged,” she said with a deep sigh. “I’ve tried to find a way to wriggle out of it, but you’re so great in my father’s eyes that nothing I’ve said will convince him that you aren’t perfect. For me, even.”

“For you, even,” he repeated, laughing helplessly and admiring Sage’s easy acceptance of her own flaws. “Now that’s saying something.”

“It’s making him happy,” she said, looking down at her tangled fingers and giving a sigh heavy enough to break a heart. “It’s giving him hope and a purpose. I cringe every time he mentions the wedding, but he glows. How can this be a mistake if it helps him get better?”

How, indeed.

“What if he expects an actual ceremony?”

She was shaking her head before he finished the words.

“He knows I won’t get married while worrying about his health. That’d be bad juju.”

Aiden’s grimace quickly shifted to a rueful grin. Looked like all that new-agey stuff she was obsessed over might pay off.

“And the exit plan?” he asked. Never commit to a mission without a clear way out.

“When he’s better, and cleared by at least two doctors, we realize that we aren’t suited. I’m thinking we blame your career choice,” she said, batting her eyelashes and giving him a look so sexy and persuasive that he was nodding before he realized what she’d said.

“What? Why my career?”

“Because I don’t have one.” For a second, her lower lip poked out in a cute pout. “And before you suggest we blame it on me being too flighty, I’ve always been that way. He’s not going to believe you changed your mind over something that’s always been a fact.”

It took Aiden a second or two to follow that logic, but once he did, he had to admit she was right.

“Okay, fine,” he said grudgingly. “We can blame my commitment to being a SEAL. Statistics will support that claim.”

Hopefully a few of his team would beat the odds, since two were recently married and one newly engaged. But military and marriage weren’t a good bet under most odds. Factor in the added issues of Special Forces, with the extra dangers and secrecy, and the odds got a little longer.

“Ahhh, statistics,” Sage said fondly. Then she rolled her eyes. “A nice fallback and one my father will undoubtedly let himself believe. But we all know that I’m not statistically correct.”

“Are you any kind of correct?” Aiden asked in exasperation.

She pondered for a moment, her fingernail tapping on her lower lip in a way that made his mouth water.

“I’m sexually correct.”

“You do sex correctly?” he clarified before he could stop himself.