Navy Seal Dad

Anger and frustration stormed inside him as he recalled the conversation with his captain three days ago….

“Damn it, Mac, this sucks. But you know as well as I do that a SEAL’s got to be physically 100 percent. Loss of hearing, even in just one ear…” Captain Mike Rossi rammed a fist through his hair. He looked Mac square in the eye. “I’m sorry, kid. I really am. But I can’t risk the safety of the rest of the team.”

Standing at attention, his back ramrod straight, Mac felt as though he’d just been plowed down by a tank. It didn’t matter that he’d known it was coming. He’d expected to be cut loose from the team for nearly two months now, ever since the explosion in the raid on that embassy had left the hearing in his right ear diminished. Yet even anticipating the inevitable didn’t lessen the impact of the blow when it came. “I understand, Captain.”

“You’ve got a lot of leave coming. Take it, Mac. Go to New Orleans. Talk to the specialists at the base hospital there. I understand they’re doing some great things. Find out all you can about that new surgical procedure and then decide if it’s worth the risk or not.”

“I’ve already decided to have the surgery, sir.”

The captain frowned. “You should check it out first. Weigh all the risks before you make any decision. Forty percent hearing is better than none.”

“Forty percent isn’t good enough to be a SEAL, sir.”

“Being a SEAL isn’t everything.”

“It is for me, sir.” Which was the truth. For him being a SEAL wasn’t just what he was or did, it was who he was. And if he could no longer be a SEAL, he was…he was no one.

The captain’s frown deepened. “This isn’t something you should make a snap decision about, Mac.”

“I know. And I’ve given it a lot of thought, Captain. I want to have the surgery.”

“Check it out first, SEAL. That’s an order. Afterward if you still want to go through with it, it’s your choice. But if I were you, I’d think long and hard before I make any decision. And while you’re thinking, it wouldn’t hurt to look up that lady friend of yours who lives there and maybe see how she feels about it.”

Mac had hoped that the captain’s failure to comment on him getting dog-faced when he’d broken things off with Rachel two years ago and his lack of interest in any woman since had gone unnoticed. He should have realized that Eagle Eye Mike Rossi never missed a thing when it came to the members of his SEAL team. “I…we ended things the last time I was in New Orleans. Things weren’t that serious between us.” Or rather Mac had decided to end things because they were getting too serious, he admitted in silence.

Rossi gave him a knowing look. “Too bad. It might make a difference in your decision if she were still in the picture.”

Rachel wasn’t in the picture anymore, Mac reminded himself. Yet, here he was anyway because he hadn’t been able to stay away from her. Just as he hadn’t been able to forget her, regardless of how many missions he went on or how many willing women he could have had in his bed since he’d left her.

And now that he’d seen her again, he was no closer to banishing Rachel from his thoughts than he had been when he’d walked out of her life two years ago. If anything, he wanted her even more.

So what are you going to do about it?

Dammit, he was still a SEAL, Mac reminded himself. A member of the U.S. military’s fiercest, bravest and smartest band of warriors. A SEAL didn’t walk away from a battle because the odds were stacked against him. A SEAL found a way to even the odds and win.

“Hey, sailor,” a sidewalk barker standing outside one of the nightclubs called out in that unmistakable drawl that marked him as a New Orleanian. Opening the door a fraction, the giant of a man offered Mac a glimpse of a long-limbed woman dancing onstage to the seductive wail of a sax. “Why don’t you come on in out of the cold, my man? Lovely Lola’s next show is about to start any minute. You have my word,” he said with a smile that glinted with gold. “Lola’s act will warm you right up and make you glad you’re a man.”

“Thanks, pal,” Mac said with an answering grin. “But there’s another lady I’ve got to see.”

Rachel didn’t see him at first—not until after she had climbed the stairs and deactivated the alarm to the house. Bone tired from a day that had started with the shock of Mac showing up at the hospital and ended with her pulling an extra stint in the E.R., she’d driven home on automatic pilot. Tomorrow she would worry about Mac, she promised herself. Tomorrow she would sort out how she felt about the things he’d said to her, and she would figure out how to break the news to him about P.J.

But right now…right now all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep. Stifling a yawn, she reached into her purse for the house key when a movement from the far end of the veranda caught her eye.

Rachel froze. The weariness of a moment ago dissolved in a heartbeat. Fear-induced adrenaline took its place. Suddenly she realized how vulnerable she was, standing alone in the darkness, illuminated by the glow of the porch lamp Chloe had left on for her. Since it was long past midnight, the street was quiet save for the wind whistling through the oaks. No lights burned in her neighbor’s homes. No cars made their way down the silent street. She was alone and even if she screamed for help, no one was likely to come to her aid in time.

Quickly she gauged her chances of getting the door unlocked and safely inside before he realized she’d spotted him. She couldn’t risk it, she decided. Not with P.J. asleep in the house. Seconds ticked by in which fear knotted like an icy fist in her stomach. She tried to recall the techniques she’d learned in that self-defense class and drew a blank.

She had to do something! Beads of perspiration dampened her brow despite the cold temperatures. Fighting back the panic that threatened, she told herself to think. Then she remembered—the mace! She had a can of mace in her purse. Her heart thundering in her ears, Rachel closed her fingers around the metal cylinder. “Who’s there?” she demanded in a voice that sounded surprisingly strong given the fact that her legs felt like jelly.

Keeping her eyes trained on the corner where she’d detected the movement, Rachel lifted the can like a gun and aimed. “I know you’re there. So you might as well come out.”

Suddenly a hand shot out from behind her, disarming her so quickly that her finger was still poised to shoot. At the same time another hand clamped over her mouth midscream, and she felt herself being pulled back against a very hard, very strong, very male body.

“Rach, it’s me.”

With the metallic taste of fear in her mouth and her heart beating frantically, his words failed to register. She kicked at his legs. She jabbed her elbow into his midsection. Panicked, she wished for a pair of killer stilettos as she lifted her foot and did a karate-style back kick to his shin. She barely heard her captor’s grunt as stars exploded in front of her eyes and pain ricocheted up her leg.

“Rach, cut it out! It’s me,” he repeated. “It’s Mac.”

Rachel stilled. “Mac?” she mumbled the name against the hand covering her mouth.

“Yeah,” he told her as he removed his hand from over her mouth.

Suddenly weak with relief, Rachel whooshed out a breath. It was Mac. Not a mugger. Not a burglar. It was Mac. And, she realized in the next breath, it was Mac who had just scared her silly.

Slowly he loosened the arm anchored around her waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Relief swiftly gave way to anger, and Rachel whirled around to face him. “Frighten me? You scared me half to death,” she accused, her voice shaking with fury. “What are you doing here slinking around in the dark? And how did you find out where I live?”

“I wasn’t slinking around. I was waiting for you. Since you never made it to the restaurant, I came by hoping we could talk. And as for finding out where you live, I’m a SEAL, Rach,” he said crisply. “Finding you wasn’t hard.”

Her breath was still coming fast, but already the edge of her anger was cooling. “I-I’m sorry about dinner. But you still should have said something. You should have at least let me know you were there.”

“I started to, but when I saw how tired you looked, I decided tonight wasn’t a good time. I was waiting to make sure you got inside safely before I left. Then I was going to call you in the morning and see about rescheduling our date.”

“It wasn’t a date,” Rachel corrected. “It was dinner between…between acquaintances.”

Mac snorted. “We were a bit more than acquaintances.”

Deciding it best to ignore that remark, Rachel explained, “I got tied up at the hospital. That’s why I didn’t meet you at the restaurant. There was an accident. A bus filled with high school kids on their way to a football game was rear-ended by an eighteen-wheeler.”

“I heard. Was it bad?”

“Not really. Mostly bumps and bruises. A few stitches, a couple of sprains and one broken ankle.” Suddenly, standing alone in the dim porch light with Mac felt too intimate. It reminded Rachel of other nights when they had stood in the moonlight and she’d recounted the events of her day for him. Slamming the door shut on her memories, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. “Anyway, by the time I got a break and was able to call the restaurant, you’d already left. I didn’t know how else to contact you.”

“It’s all right,” Mac told her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He ran his thumb along her jaw in a gesture that was tender, loving…like the look in his eyes.

No, she wouldn’t do that to herself again, Rachel vowed, and turned her face away from his touch. But not before she caught the flare of emotion in his eyes. For a second she almost believed that she had hurt Mac. Just as quickly, Rachel dismissed the notion. More likely she’d been right earlier today, and she had simply dashed Mac’s hopes for a quick reunion while he was in town. Swallowing hard, she reminded herself of what a mistake their relationship had been the first time. It was a mistake she had no intention of repeating. “All the same I’m sorry about standing you up.”

“Quit apologizing, Rachel. Your roommate already explained about the flu hitting the hospital’s staff and how you had to pull an extra shift in the E.R.”

“My roommate?”

“Chloe.”

Rachel sucked in a breath. “You talked to Chloe?”

“Yeah. When I came over to find out why you didn’t show up at the restaurant, she answered the door and told me what happened.”