Rogenna Brewer - The SEAL's Baby

Holden disappeared inside, and Mike took the lieutenant’s place curbside. Somewhere between Hannah’s abrupt departure and the drive over, he’d decided that if she had something to say to him, he wanted to hear it. Even if it was “Take your go-to-hell watch and shove it.”

He owed her that much at least.

Identifying the HCS-9 staff car by the Night Hawks flag as it pulled to the curb, he opened the door and offered his arm. “Spence—” she began, using him as leverage, only to be brought nose to shoulder board with his gold epaulet. She snatched her hand back as if from a snake. Once bitten, twice shy?

He tried not to take it personally; SEALs were called snake eaters, but never cold-blooded reptiles. Besides just her touch was enough to warm his blood.

“Sorry, not Holden,” he drawled. “Disappointed? And here I strapped on my sword just for you.” Or rather commandeered it.

“If I’d known, I would have worn my strap on.”

“Now that I’d like to see.”

“Then it’s too bad a lady has no need for a tempered-steel phallic symbol.”

That sounded more like the Hannah he knew and…missed. He let loose a hearty chuckle. How long had it been since he’d felt like laughing? How long had it been since they’d last exchanged banter? “From what I hear the lady created quite a stir arriving at the Change of Command Ceremony unescorted.”

“So they drafted you to be my handler?”

“This is an all-volunteer Navy.”

She raised a perfect eyebrow. “Speaking of volunteers, what have you done with Spence?”

“Ordered him to get lost.”

“Rank has its privileges?”

“Absolutely.”

That, and the green-eyed monster had reared its ugly head. Holden had been her co-pilot for at least the four years Mike had known her. He wasn’t so cynical that he believed men and women couldn’t be friends, but in his experience sex always got in the way.

More staff cars pulled up to the curb and he crooked his elbow. “Shall we?”

RHIP. His rank left her little choice but to accept his offered arm. She acquiesced, latching on to his biceps, and he measured his stride to hers. Although her legs were long and lovely, they weren’t as long as his.

The side boys opened the double doors.

“Ladies first,” he insisted, pressing a hand to the small of her back to keep that contact as he guided her toward the cloakroom.

Once inside, they removed their headgear and gloves, or in his case Holden’s, securing them inside their covers. Hannah handed them off to the hatcheck girl while Mike removed the scabbard and exchanged the ensemble for the ticket.

“Separate tickets, please,” Hannah insisted, fluffing out her hair.

“If you insist.”

“I insist.”

The hatcheck girl was riveted by their conversation. Mike took the second ticket but didn’t offer it to Hannah right away.

“I have three hundred guests waiting,” she prompted.

“Before your mother and sister came along, you were about to say something….”

“Mike, not here.” She glanced at the girl behind him and cleared her throat. “Given the fact we’ll be working together, I think we should keep it strictly professional.”

He didn’t care about the girl, but Hannah was lucky. The next wave of guests entered the building, leaving him little choice but to respect her wishes. “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

That’s not what her eyes were saying as they held his gaze and wouldn’t let go. Or maybe he was the one who couldn’t let go. “Why didn’t you tell me your father was a Navy SEAL?”

“You’ve been talking to my mother. What’s there to tell? I barely remember him.”

“I’m sorry, Han.” He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for—her father’s death, his own disappearing act, or both. How could he explain his fear of hurting her when that’s exactly what he’d done?

“Are we through with apologies?”

“I guess we are. And since we’re being so PC, Commander, I’ll expect a formal call at your earliest convenience.” He had no intention of letting this conversation go.

“Fine. May I have the ticket, please? I’m a big girl and can make it to the party on my own. I’ll call you if I need an escort, Commander.”

Ouch! He handed over the ticket, more than ready to abandon his duty. But he couldn’t let her go in there unarmed. “Han, word of advice for getting along with these guys. If you’re going to rock the boat, think gentle waves.”

POSITIONED NEXT TO Captain Loring, behind the giant sheet cake with the Night Hawks logo, Hannah mustered a smile for the camera.

Think gentle waves and rocking boats.

Capsized was more like it. Seeing McCaffrey today had turned hers upside down. There was something she wanted to tell him, but couldn’t without rocking several boats.

The enlisted Photographer’s Mate snapped the photo capturing her frown. “One more of the two of you cutting the cake,” he insisted.

Loring dipped his sword into the first slice as they both held on to the handle. “I don’t see your mother, Hannah?”

Hannah cast a sidelong glance at the man just as the photographer took his next snapshot. “Hold for one more,” he said again.

If she didn’t manage a smile, they’d be here all day.

“She’s driving over with my sister and the baby in our car. It’s easier than switching Fallon’s car seat back and forth.”

“Will your mother be in the San Diego area long?”

“Until the end of next week.”

“Maybe she’ll have time for dinner with an old friend.” He smiled into the camera.

Her mom and Captain Loring? Friends? Now that would take some getting used to. A slower, less certain smile spread across Hannah’s face. “Maybe.”

“Got it!” the photographer said.

Before the polite applause ended, she found herself searching the O Club for her mother and sister. “Sammy! Over here!” Hannah waved her through the door of the crowded banquet room. “Where’s Fallon?”

“Fallon’s cranky. Mom had me drive them home.”

“Oh.” Hannah quickly hid her disappointment. With McCaffrey here maybe it was for the best. “I should go, too.”

At home she could look into her daughter’s eyes, where the reason for keeping father and daughter apart made sense. She didn’t want to hurt either of them. But it was a decision already causing her pain.

“No way, this is your big day. Besides, you promised to introduce me to Spencer Holden. I’ve only been in love with him forever.”

Like every other groupie.

Holden had caused quite a stir when he’d walked away from the fame and fortune of Hollywood to enroll in an Ivy League college. A few years later he’d walked into a Navy recruiting office. The paparazzi still followed him around as if he were Elvis.

At first Hannah had found it all amusing, but it soon became annoying. And now her own sister had joined the ranks of the starstruck.

Sammy leaned back against the bar and surveyed the room. “Wow! Are all these guys single?”

“Not all.” Hannah was too jaded not to see past a well-cut uniform—with one exception of course, and he seemed to have disappeared. Finally she could relax. Except Sammy had that kid-in-a-candy-store look that made Hannah want to rush her sister from the O Club before she bit into the goodies.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant Commander Stanton.” Lieutenant Russell Parish, her Executive Officer squeezed through the crowd and came toward them.

“Yes, Russ, what is it?” He stopped next to Sammy, who had eyes only for Spence and every other pilot out on the dance floor.

“Ma’am.” Russ acknowledged Sammy as he reached across her to hand Hannah his calling card.