Angi Morgan - Navy SEAL Surrender

Alicia closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. “I get it. You’re a naval officer who probably has a gal in every port. Well, Lieutenant Sloan, my little part of the world doesn’t have a dock. It’s centered around a four-year-old child. I’m her whole world. And I don’t take risks with it.”

“I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do. I have responsibilities to Lauren and have no intention of jeopardizing that by dating. Let alone having sex in a dried-up field with a man I haven’t seen or heard from in over a decade.”

“Don’t worry about Lauren. We’ll get her back.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Never.” He’d never hate her. He’d also never stop wanting her with every part of his being. Never.

Navy SEAL

Surrender

Angi Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANGI MORGANwrites Mills & Boon ®Intrigue novels “where honor and danger collide with love.” She combines actual Texas settings with characters who are in realistic and dangerous situations. Angi has been a finalist for the Booksellers’ Best Award, RT Book Reviews Best First Series, Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and the Daphne du Maurier Award.

Angi and her husband live in North Texas, with only the four-legged “kids” left in the house to interrupt her writing. They recently began volunteering for a local Labrador foster program. Visit her website, www.angimorgan.com, or hang out with her on Facebook.

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Many moons ago, I graduated high school with a small group of kids. Brian & Johnny are fictional characters but named after two men who won’t be returning at our next reunion. Several of the names in the Sloane brothers’ stories are familiar to my friends, but do not reflect any of their true personalities. All the characters are fictional, but not my friendship with my classmates.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Extract

Chapter One

Join the navy. See the world.

“I don’t think they meant the sandboxes I’ve been playing in.” John Sloane had met and helped a lot of great people around the world. He’d been to several cool cities, nice ports and seen a lot of water. But he never wanted to see most of the places his unit had been deployed again—even in the news.

Back in Texas. Right back where he’d started wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he was eighteen. But right now he didn’t care about choices or destinations. He just wanted information on his dad.

He’d returned from a training exercise and was told that his father had suffered a major stroke. When he couldn’t reach the house or his dad, he’d called the police station with no luck. They’d refused to help.

From the message, he knew that his father was alive and at the ranch. He’d arranged extended leave and a ticket back to his hometown. Taking as much time off as he wanted wasn’t a problem. He had a lot stored up. He wanted to be here as long as needed to get his father back on his feet. The only objective so far was to get home.

Two hours in triple-digit heat with the rental’s AC whacked-out had added to his building frustration. He was sailing blind with no information, since his brother hadn’t returned his calls and the home phone seemed to be out of order.

If John was being honest—no sense lying to himself—he hadn’t been the most dependable brother. Or the most communicative. Since they’d learned to open their mouths, Brian had been the twin to tell the world what they needed. Brian had been the responsible one keeping him out of trouble, right up to his last words to him, “Leave and never look back.”

That was exactly what he’d done.

John had followed through on his promise, joined the navy, left the ranch and had never come back.

In the navy, he wasn’t Brian’s twin or Johnny Junior or the baby. He’d quickly risen to chief petty officer and was the man you went to with a problem. He was the guy who got things done. Action, not words.

Then things changed. Promotions after online classes and a college degree. Instead of solving the problems, he followed orders. Now a lieutenant, he was the man responsible if someone got shot. A man who’d been doing too much thinking recently.

Texas? California? Navy? Private sector? Which road should just simple John choose? Too much thinking.... Right now he would help his dad, work the horses and maybe—just maybe—reconnect with his brother. That was the mission.

Deciding his future could wait.

His hometown was just ahead, and suddenly he didn’t feel so confident. Since that short good riddance right after graduation, he hadn’t seen or spoken to Brian. John hadn’t seen his father in almost three years. How would the town see him now? Who would he be after twelve years? The man he’d become, or the kid the town remembered?

Aubrey looked like a busy small town instead of the bus-stop intersection with one red light he’d left. Lots of changes, and yet the most familiar thing in the world to him. He knew what stool old man Searcy would be sitting on for his lunch at the café, and he knew who would be serving him his blue-plate special. His stomach growled, emphasizing his lack of lunch. Another ten minutes and he’d be home.

Home.

The word felt good. He’d stay, help his dad around the ranch, work with his back instead of a weapon. He’d welcome every minute of mind-numbing grunt labor. And somehow he’d figure out what to do with the rest of his life.

He raised a finger off the steering wheel, acknowledging those driving past. A friendly custom in north Texas, like tipping your hat. Or at least it used to be. People stared at him and quickly looked away when he caught their eye. He drove through his little town, now full of fast-food restaurants and an outdoor mini shopping mall. He turned off the main road, took the familiar turns and passed the mailbox—faded with one of the letters missing from his father’s name.

Parked on the side of the driveway was a cherry-red Camaro. A car he knew inside and out. The car had always hummed perfection. Mark Miller had won many drag races with that engine. When Mark had left for the army, John had tried to buy it from Mr. Miller many times. He slowed as the driver—obviously waiting on him—opened the door of the car he’d wanted throughout his teenage years. His tires crunched on the gravel as he pulled to a stop.

“Wow.” The word slipped from his brain to his mouth.

“You still haven’t gotten over this car?” the woman said, caressing the hood with long strokes.