Expecting the SEAL’s Baby by Katie Knight

One

Jeremy had one hand on his hip and the other held his phone to his ear as he stared out the living room window of his apartment. Briefly, he considered pitching the phone through the glass. It would be temporarily satisfying. Instead, he took a breath and continued to listen to his father’s lecture.

Laurence Quinn was a man used to getting his way. Maybe that was what came from a decades-long career in the U.S. Congress representing California. And Jeremy knew that it irked his father that he never got the same level of attention or respect from his younger son as he did from his constituents.

“Dad,” Jeremy cut his father off. “I got home two days ago. I’m not ready to make a commitment to a career yet.” After returning from overseas, he’d spent a week at a base in the U.S. processing out. And now, there he was, a man stripped of everything that had been important to him, standing in a bare-bones apartment and arguing with his father. This wasn’t how he’d seen his life playing out.

“You need to get off your duff and get out there,” Laurence said without a hint of sympathy. “It’s the only way to save face.”

“Mine or yours?” Jeremy shot back. His father had been lecturing him on how to “save face” since Jeremy was a rambunctious ten-year-old boy. The lectures had gotten worse when he’d became a teen and had pushed a lot of boundaries and committed a few misdemeanors. Each time, he’d gotten the same speech about how his actions reflected negatively on the family and his father’s career. Eventually, his family had taken the approach of keeping him hidden away, not even trotting him out at PR events, so he wouldn’t cause embarrassment.

“Both. Your brother’s running for senate. We can’t afford any bad press,” Laurence said. “I’ve talked your situation over with Dean’s campaign team, and we agree. It’s got to look like you were ready to retire because you have some opportunity you want to pursue. We need to create that and fast.”

“You haven’t already?” Jeremy was genuinely surprised by that. His father always had a plan.

“I can if need be. I’ve got influence,” Laurence insisted. “Let me think for a minute. You don’t have any education, but military experience can open doors if given the right spin.”

Jeremy bristled. His lack of higher education had been a sore spot for years. His parents were never going to forgive him for skipping college and enlisting in the Navy. But if they thought he didn’t have any education, they didn’t know much about the training he’d undergone while in the service. He’d learned plenty. It just hadn’t come with a degree.

“I’m not ready to make any decisions right now,” Jeremy said. What happened in Afghanistan continued to prey on him. He’d run the mission through his head, trying to see it from every angle. What had happened to those coordinates? How had they fallen into a trap? What could he have done differently to ensure that Blake walked out of that desert with them?

Damn, it bothered Jeremy. He’d been responsible for all of them, and the weight of that was pulling him down. He’d never felt so powerless and pissed off. He could hardly sleep or eat. All he could think about was clearing his name and rescuing Blake. Those two things mattered to him a hundred times more than satisfying his father’s need to make everything look good on the surface.

“Dammit, Jeremy,” Laurence said, the frustration evident in his tone—just as it always was. “You’ve got to leave your mistakes in the past and move forward.”

“No,” Jeremy said, not bothering to explain that he couldn’t. He couldn’t move on, not until he’d made things right. “I’m going to clear my name and find Blake.”

“Don’t try it,” his father warned. “You might kick over a bigger hornet’s nest. One that I can’t help you control.”

“I might,” Jeremy agreed, “but it’s my choice.”

“You could jeopardize Dean’s campaign,” Laurence said. And there they’d gotten to the heart of the issue.

Before he could tell his father that he didn’t give a damn about the campaign, the doorbell rang. He went to the door, thinking that he should be cautious about opening it, but not caring. If it was trouble on his doorstep, at least it would get him out of the conversation with his father.

He whipped the door open and sucked in a breath. Gina.

God, it was good to see her. She wasn’t smiling, but she was as beautiful as ever with her dark hair and eyes, highlighting her mother’s Mexican ancestry. As always, her makeup was flawless, and her clothes stylish to show off her figure. She’d been put together like that as long as he’d known her.

But she looked tired and thinner than when he’d last seen her, too. Blake’s situation had to be hell for her. The siblings had always been close.

“I’ve got to go, Dad,” he said and hung up before his father could reply. He motioned for Gina to enter.

“You didn’t give him the chance to respond,” Gina said as she walked past him into the apartment.

“He’d already said what he needed to.” Jeremy followed her the few steps from the door into the living room. He had a couch, chair, and an end table. A large television was mounted on the wall, not that he watched it much. His place wasn’t glamorous. In fact, it was barely nice, but he’d never spent much time here, so he’d never bothered to fix it up. Anyway, he doubted she was there to talk about his décor. “How are you, Gina?”

“I’m okay,” she said, turning to face him. Dark smudges were under her eyes, and her usual spark was muted. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who he’d teased and argued with about everything from the impact of cattle farming on the environment to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza. She sighed. “Oh, why bother lying? No, I’m not okay. What happened, Jeremy? Where’s Blake?”

“I wish I knew,” he said, feeling shame twist his stomach. He should have visited Blake’s family as soon as he got to San Diego, should have tried to explain, even if he didn’t have any good answers for them.

“No one will answer my questions.” She dropped her purse on his couch. “I’ve called and called, but all I get is it’s classified. It’s like running my head against a brick wall. I want the truth about Blake and why you retired. Those things must be connected.”

“They are,” Jeremy admitted and debated how much he should tell her. A lot of it truly was classified. He didn’t give a damn what they did to him, but he didn’t want to get her in trouble. “A mission went bad, and I took the blame for it.”

“Were you to blame?” It was a tough question, but he wasn’t surprised she asked it.

“No, I swear it,” he spoke from the heart. “I’d never do anything to put my team in danger. I’ve done some stupid shit in my life, but not while serving as a SEAL. I hope you believe that.”

She nodded and sand down on the couch. “I needed to hear you say it—and now that you have, that's good enough for me.”

* * *

Gina Greenwood dropped her face in her hands for a moment. She didn’t want to cry in front of Jeremy. She’d shed enough tears of sorrow and frustration in the past ten days since a naval officer had shown up at her mother’s house with the news that Blake was missing in action. The time since had been like a nightmare that she couldn’t wake up from.

Soon after receiving the notification about Blake, she’d heard that Jeremy was suddenly resigning his commission and knew that the incidents had to be related. She’d had to ask if he was to blame, but in her heart, she knew he couldn’t be. He’d never do anything to harm Blake. She’d come to Jeremy’s apartment to confirm that and, hopefully, get information.

“Why won’t they tell us anything?” She looked up at Jeremy. “We can’t even find out if they’re looking for Blake. They must be, right?” She wanted answers and comfort—but she wasn’t sure how equipped Jeremy was to give them. He looked like he’d been dragged backward through hell.

It didn’t stop him from being attractive, of course. Nothing could do that. His hazel eyes were shadowed now, but she’d seen them spark when they’d sparred. With his brown hair cut military short and a chiseled body, he could turn women’s heads on the street. He’d turned hers since she first met him. Not that anything had or could come out of it. He was her brother’s friend and a military man through and through—exactly the sort of man she’d sworn to herself she’d avoid.

“Let me get you something to drink and we’ll talk,” he said. “Soda? Wine?”

“Wine, please,” she said and watched him disappear into the galley kitchen. Soon, he returned with two glasses and a bottle. She took a sip while he sat next to her, stretching his long legs out. She had the overwhelming urge to curl up against him. He’d hold her, she knew, and offer any solace he could, but first, she needed answers. “What happened in Afghanistan?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “We headed out on what appeared to be a routine recon mission. I’d been getting intel from a local for the past few months, all reliable, so I didn’t question it when he gave me a set of coordinates.”

“What did you expect to find there?” she asked and saw his hesitation.

“I can’t tell you that part,” he said, “because it’s—”

“Classified? Trust me, I’ve heard that word enough.” She angled her body toward him. “I don’t need it from you, too.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t break protocol.”

“Why not?” her tone came out sharper than she meant it to. “Why protect them? The brass has sent you home and pinned the blame on you.”

“Not officially,” he said.

“Because of your father,” she concluded and saw the confirmation on his face. His father was too important of a man for his son to be dishonorably discharged. She hated that sort of politics, but she was glad for him that he wouldn’t be court-martialed. Her shoulders sagged as she realized she couldn’t push him on the issue of classified information. Not when he was skating on thin ice already. “What can you tell me?”

“I suspect that someone got to my informant and used our secure way of communicating to give me bad coordinates,” Jeremy explained. “They led straight to a trap. Five guys were injured, and Blake was taken hostage.”

“Oh,” she said, shocked to hear of the wounded men. “I didn’t know about the others. I’m sorry for them.” Five other families that had to be asking questions as well. But at least they knew where their family members were. She was left completely in the dark. “Okay, so bad coordinates led to a trap, and you think this was done intentionally?”

“I’m sure of it,” Jeremy said. “I know that doesn’t make it easier, Gina.”

He looked apologetic, but the situation was so frustrating. She leaned back against the cushion and drank more wine while she thought. She didn’t hold Jeremy responsible for what happened, but that didn’t take away the fact that her brother was still missing.

“How’s your mom?” he asked after a few minutes of silence. “I plan to visit her.”

“She’d like that,” Gina said. Jeremy had always been a favorite with her mom. “This whole mess is breaking her heart, but you know how she is. She hasn’t given up hope that we’ll have a happy ending.”

“Have you?” His voice was soft as he refilled her glass.

“No, but I hate feeling so helpless.” She’d taken leave from her job as a nurse practitioner. The medical center she worked for insisted she needed time to be with her mother, and they’d been right. Besides, she felt too distraught and distracted to safely practice medicine. Not giving her work one hundred percent could result in a tragic mistake. “The waiting and not knowing is awful.”

“We’ll get through this,” he said, resting his arm along the back of the couch, just above her shoulders.

“Thanks.” He was trying to be positive for her and she appreciated it, so she turned her head and smiled at him. She’d smiled so little in the past few days that it felt almost strange to do so now.

“Now you look like yourself,” Jeremy said. “Pesky little sister of my best friend.” His tone was teasing, making her smile even more broadly.

“Obnoxious and cocky friend of my brother,” she returned, giving him a light punch to the chest. He caught her hand and held onto it, surprising her, but it felt good to be close to him with his familiar strength and the warmth of his smile.

“I’ve missed fighting with you,” he said.

“We can fix that.” She pursed her lips, pulling her hand from his. “What should we spar about today? The skyrocketing price of prescription drugs? Who will win the World Series?”

“What teams are playing?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“How am I supposed to argue with someone so ill-informed?” She gave a pretend huff of exasperation. “We won’t be able to settle anything if you don’t know the facts.”

His eyes slid over her face, lingering on her lips, and she drew in a shaky breath. There it was again. The inexplicable, but undeniable attraction between them. She gulped wine, trying to mask her feelings. Giving into those would be a mistake, so she led the conversation in a different direction. She’d always been able to talk and argue with him about anything, and it felt good to do something so normal. She teased him about how he was more handsome than his brother, whose face was plastered everywhere due to the election. He laughed and said that he had one thing then that his brother didn’t.

The conversation flowed easily—as did the wine—and before she knew it, the bottle was empty, and they were relaxed against the couch cushions. His arm was now openly draped over her shoulders, and somewhere during the conversation their heads had gotten closer together. She closed her eyes and felt more relaxed than she had since hearing of Blake’s disappearance. Being with Jeremy, somehow, made it all better.

“Gina, have you ever wondered…” His sentence trailed off, and when she opened her eyes, she found his locked on hers and almost glowing with intensity.

“Wondered what?” her voice was a whisper. The moment was suddenly too intimate for anything louder.

“What would happen if we kissed.” He made no move to close the narrow distance between them—but he didn’t move away, either.

She thought about drawing back and giving him a pert answer. Maybe she could even work herself up to mocking his request and stalking away.

But the truth was, she’d wondered, too. Many times over the years. The heat of a blush crept across her cheeks and down her neck. She blushed easily, but this one wasn’t in embarrassment. It came from the anticipation of the kiss that she knew was going to happen.

“Gina.” Their faces were still inches apart, but the distance was closing slowly, achingly.

Neither of them rushed it nor pulled back. Before their lips met, he cradled the back of her head in his hand and tilted her face up to his. He kissed the knuckles of the hand he held and placed it on his shoulder. She’d touched him before, hugged him when he came to visit her mother’s home, but what was coming was no friendly embrace. His expression, everything about the moment, promised passion.

She could have drawn back, and he’d have let her go. She knew that about him. But she wanted a taste of what he was offering, so she let him close the remaining distance. His mouth slanted over hers in an innocent kiss that lasted only a few seconds. He drew back, his hazel eyes darkening with desire.

Was that it? No, no, she thought and gripped his shirt in her fingers. That little kiss wasn’t enough. “You call that a kiss?” her voice was low. “I couldn’t form a judgment based on that. Can you?”

“Trying to be a gentleman,” he said.

“Why break character?” she quipped, and he gave her a sexy smile.

“If you insist on more.” He kissed her cheeks and her forehead, and as delicious as that was, it still wasn’t enough.

“I insist on a lot more. I want a real kiss with you, Jeremy. Just this once.” Even as she said it, she knew she was lying. Once wouldn’t be enough, but it was all she’d allow herself since nothing could be real between them. She couldn’t trust a military man to be faithful—she’d learned that lesson from her father. Even her brother, as much as she loved him, seemed incapable of settling down. She knew better than to expect anything more from Jeremy. All she could expect was this. But this was exactly what she wanted.

His lips finally met hers, and she opened to him immediately. When his tongue touched hers, she couldn’t help the little sigh that escaped her. Within seconds she was straddling his lap and had her hands running through his hair. Kissing him was everything she’d imagined it would be. He was leading without domineering as he enticed her to want more.

When she pressed her breasts against his chest, desiring the feel of him, he paused and pulled back. His hand stroked her cheek, and he took in a shuddery breath.

“I want you, but…”

She anticipated what was coming. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t push me away because you think you should.”

“I was going to say, but not on the couch.” His grin was self-assured, even swaggering.

“Very wise of you. We need more room.” She hopped off him, her head spinning a little with the wine she’d drunk, and glanced around the small apartment. “Over there?” She pointed to a door that she assumed led to the bedroom.

“Not without me,” he said, lifting her in his arms before she could take a step. He carried her across the room and nudged open the door with his foot. His bedroom was just as sparsely furnished as the rest of the apartment, but there was a queen-size bed in the center of the room, and that was all that mattered.

He landed on top of her as they tumbled on the bed together, and another kiss began that left them both breathless. God, she needed this. She needed something good after the days of driving herself crazy with worry. After that, she no longer bothered to think and gave herself over to the sensations of their lovemaking.