The Navy Seal's Bride

There was something about him that unnerved her, that was rattling her like a key chain blowing in the wind, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. He was troubled, sure. There were things he was obviously holding tight to his chest. But he was honest, she’d give him that. From the expression she’d seen more than once in his eyes, from the way he looked at Gabby, she doubted he was any good at lying.

Although maybe that was just a by-product of his special-forces training. After all, she didn’t exactly have a great track record when it came to judging men.

“Penny for them?”

She laughed at his old-fashioned saying. “You caught me dreaming again.”

He opened the back door for Gabby, and then the front one for her. Caitlin wasn’t even sure a guy had ever opened a door for her before and yet Tom was already making a habit of it.

“You sure it’s okay to take me all the way home?”

His eyebrows nudged together as he frowned. “Like I’m gonna buy you an ice cream then make you find your own way to your place?”

Caitlin laughed. His expression was so comical she couldn’t do anything but laugh. “Okay, okay. I don’t like being a burden, that’s all.”

From the look on his face, he didn’t think she was a burden.

And from the look of it, he was struggling with what to say, how to behave, as much as she was. Could he honestly be as unused to attention from the opposite sex as she was? Caitlin sure doubted it. She’d perfected her look, a back-off way of staring at guys who so much as threatened to show interest in her. Tom’s body language was closed, but he sure didn’t have a stay-away vibe, not in that way.

“Miss Rose, do you have a husband?”

Caitlin coughed, tried not to inhale ice cream up her nose as she spluttered. Where the heck had that question come from?

“Gabby!” Tom scolded. “That’s not a polite question.”

Caitlin didn’t turn to look, couldn’t even brave a glance at Tom. But she wasn’t going to let Gabby get in trouble for being inquisitive. Didn’t she always tell her class the importance of asking questions? Maybe she needed to remind them of what types of questions were appropriate, though!

“It’s fine, Tom. It doesn’t matter.”

“So do you?” Gabby asked.

“Gabriella!” Tom’s voice boomed through the car.

No, thought Caitlin. No, she didn’t. But the thought of saying that in front of Tom scared her, made her want to wrench the car door open and run. Because she’d built a fort around herself, never made herself available in any way, and she sure as heck wasn’t ready for that to change.

“Sorry,” Gabby said, sounding unsure why she had to apologize. “It’s just that Tommy doesn’t have a wife and Mommy is always saying that he needs a ‘nice girl to settle down with.’”

Caitlin fought the urge not to laugh at Gabby’s put-on voice and failed miserably. One look at Tom and he was in hysterics, too, laughter ringing through the car. Jokes she could handle. Jokes were safe.

“A nice girl, huh?” She couldn’t stop the smirk that settled on her face when she found her voice again.

Tom glared at her, but that only made them both laugh again. “Don’t kids say the darnedest things?” Only this time his gaze hinted at a seriousness below the surface, and she wondered if Tom was after a nice girl, or if it was just his sister-in-law wanting him to find one.

Either way, it meant nothing to her. She wasn’t interested in a relationship, and Tom wasn’t her type.

What she couldn’t understand was why talking about Tom like that had sent an itch under her skin that she couldn’t dislodge.

CHAPTER THREE

“SO you’re telling me that nothing happened?”

Caitlin sighed into the lukewarm coffee she was nursing. “Correct.”

Her friend and fellow teacher sighed dramatically. “Look me in the eye and tell me,” Lucy demanded.

Caitlin wasn’t lying. She was dreadful at keeping secrets, but she was guilty of one thing.

“I promise nothing happened,” she said, raising her eyes and shrugging. “Seriously.”

Lucy tucked her legs up beneath her, curled like a cat on the sofa. “But you wanted something to happen, right?”

Heat burst onto Caitlin’s cheeks as she sipped her now almost-cold coffee, trying to avoid Lucy’s gaze. “I agree that he’s kind of cute, but he’s not really my type. And seriously, Lucy, what was going to happen in a class full of six-year-olds?”

The groan she received in response told her she’d given the wrong answer.

“He’s every girl’s type, Caitlin.” Lucy stood up and stretched. “Either you’ve got rocks in your head or you’ve gone blind. I saw him leave your class yesterday and he’s hot, hot, hot.” Lucy waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t give me that rubbish about being in a classroom either, because I know you walked him out. It’s about time you gave a guy a shot. One day you might just surprise yourself.”

Okay, so Tom was hot. Gorgeous in fact. Sexy as hell. But it still didn’t mean she was capable of liking him in that way. And if he’d been interested in her, surely he’d have made a move by now? Guys like Tom were used to playing the game, knew how to attract a girl and how to reel her in.

Which was another reason she wasn’t interested in him.

“I’ve got to get back to class,” Caitlin said, raising her fingers in a wave and scurrying toward the door. “And nothing happened, okay? I mean, jeez, I only just met the man. I was hardly going to jump him in the hall!”

“Admit it, Miss Rose,” Lucy called out, voice all prim and proper. “There’s nothing about him not to like and you know it.”

She ignored Lucy and kept on walking. That part her friend was wrong about. Caitlin had perfectly good reasons for not being interested in Tom, for wanting to keep her distance from him, she just had no intention of sharing them. Of delving into the past and letting those feelings resurface.

Not now.

Besides, she was happy. Liked her life the way it was. If a man came along to tempt her, he’d have to be perfect husband material. And Tom Cartwright sure as heck didn’t fit the bill.

“Miss Rose, Miss Rose!”

She looked up to find a little girl from her class jumping up and down in the hallway. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Caitlin bent to talk to her, preferring to be on the same level as the children.

“Sarah fell over in the playground and hurt her knee. She’s crying.”

Caitlin took the girl’s hand and let herself be led outside. “You did the right thing, sweetheart, let’s go find her.”

Tom found it hard to indulge in the simpleness of guzzling water on a hot day. He’d spent so long rationing every sip, being so careful to preserve what he’d come to think of as his lifeline. Yet here he was, back on American soil, gulping water as though he had an endless supply of it.

He stopped and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

It suddenly hit him as if he’d been slammed into a wall—a solid, massive brick wall.

He was back for good. There were no more rations, no more missions. Nada. He was back now and he had to lump it or leave it. Or however the hell that saying went.

“Sir?”