Escape with a Hot SEAL Read online

  ESCAPE WITH A HOT SEAL

  Hot SEALs

  by New York Times & USA Today Bestseller

  CAT JOHNSON

  It’s a Hot SEALs wedding! But the path of true love never did run smooth for Navy SEAL Thom Grande, not even on the way to the altar, and he and his teammates will have to battle exes, in-laws and home grown terrorists, all to get him to the church on time.

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  CHAPTER 1

  “Ginny.”

  Virginia Starr tore herself away from staring at the worried face of the woman dressed in white reflected back at her in the wall mirror. She turned to look at her best friend. “Yeah?”

  With two fingers Molly rolled the single pearl on the gold necklace, a gift from Ginny that morning.

  “I think we might have to face the fact that just maybe he could not be coming.”

  Her maid of honor had used a whole lot of words to dance around what she’d really wanted to say. What could have been expressed with one short sentence had Molly been less concerned about sparing her feelings. Left at the altar.

  Or, even simpler, one word—jilted.

  It didn’t matter what Molly thought. Ginny knew better.

  She shook her head. “He said he’d be here, so he’ll be here.”

  Molly’s silence as she drew in a deep breath spoke more than any words could have.

  Turning back toward the dressing table, Ginny reached out and ran one fingertip over the delicate, crepe-like petals of one pink peony.

  The peonies were interspersed with pale peach roses and white ranunculus, hand-tied with a sky blue satin ribbon. Simple but beautiful. All she’d dreamed of and everything she’d wanted for the day she publicly became Mrs. Thomas Grande.

  Except in her dreams the groom wasn’t MIA.

  That term—missing in action—hit a little too close to home considering what Thom did for a living.

  She pushed that thought aside. She didn’t have to worry. For this week at least he wasn’t away on some danger-filled, super secret mission . . . or was he?

  Her eyes widened at the thought. Could he be? Wouldn’t he tell her if he’d been called in?

  She couldn’t let the doubts creep in. She had to trust the man she loved. The man she’d be joined with in front of friends and family in the eyes of God—if Thom ever got his butt to the church.

  A light knock sent Molly diving for the door. Breath catching in her chest, Ginny turned in time to see her parents peering into the doorway.

  “How’s she doing?” Ginny’s mother cringed as she asked Molly the question.

  Great. Now they were speaking about her like she wasn’t in the room.

  Scowling, Ginny answered, “I’m fine. He’ll be here.”

  God, how she hoped he’d get there.

  “I’m glad we didn’t book that catering hall with the non-refundable deposit,” her father said, low, but loud enough Ginny had heard it just fine.

  “Mm, hm,” her mother agreed, also softly, but also loud enough for her to hear.

  Ginny clenched her jaw at the turn the discussion had taken. It wasn’t as if she had ever wanted the catering hall to begin with.

  She had told them not to book the hall that her mother had wanted. That the backyard at the house would be fine. More practical given their circumstances.

  Molly glanced at her and then back to Ginny’s parents. “We still have a little time.”

  The silence of unspoken disagreement was, once again, deafening.

  Ginny closed her eyes and wondered—not for the first time—why she’d chosen to have this church ceremony and reception for close friends and family at all. Why she and Thom hadn’t just eloped and left it at that.

  Then she opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she remembered why she’d put herself through this unnecessary stress.

  She loved her dress, even if it was simple and off a department store rack because they hadn’t had time for anything else.

  And she loved the bouquet she’d made herself with flowers she’d bought at the florist. And the dozens of little white cup cakes, decorated with candied violets, that Thom’s mother had baked for them in lieu of a traditional wedding cake. And the white lights—actually her parents’ Christmas lights repurposed—strung in the trees in the backyard making her childhood home in Stamford look like a twinkling fairyland. And the hydrangeas—picked from bushes in that same backyard—displayed in mason jars and set out on the folding tables they’d borrowed from the local VFW.

  She even loved the invitations she’d designed herself, the ones she had printed out on beautiful card stock she’d found at the local office supply store to save time.

  Casual and inexpensive, but somehow perfect, this wedding was something she was proud of. It was all the things she and Thom had agreed it needed to be just in case he got yanked back to his base in Virginia for a mission and they had to reschedule.

  But he hadn’t been called back. He wasn’t somewhere in the Middle East or where ever. He was in Pennsylvania, for goodness sake, at a hunting cabin with two of the guys from his team. He'd said they'd be home last night, but she hadn’t heard from him. And his parents said he hadn’t come back to their place in Massachusetts.

  So where was he?

  Could he have changed his mind about being married?

  Fighting down the doubt, Ginny dared to look at the time on her cell phone. Five minutes to ten.

  The ceremony was scheduled to start at ten. Glancing at the doorway again, she saw a new arrival had joined the group. The pastor.

  The look of concern on the older man’s face mirrored that of everyone else in the room.

  “When’s that baptism start?” she asked, already knowing the answer but hoping for a miracle. They were in church, after all. It was a good place for one.

  “Eleven-thirty,” he answered.

  Ginny nodded, accepting the reality of what that meant.

  They’d gone into this knowing he’d squeezed them into the schedule last minute. That it would have to be a short ceremony that started and ended on time.

  Of course, weeks ago when she’d chosen this date she’d assumed if they’d have to cancel she’d have some advance notice. A week. A day even.

  Certainly not five minutes.

  Drawing in a bracing breath, Ginny somehow found strength she didn’t know she had.

  Or maybe it was detachment rather than strength, because this day was beginning to feel like it was happening to someone else and she was just an outside observer watching it unfold.

  She smoothed the bodice of the white eyelet halter dress she’d bought on a summer clearance sale in spite of Molly’s protests. Ginny stood straight and tall, rising to her full height—all five-foot-five inches of it, including her heels.

  Taking one step toward the door she said, “I’ll tell the guests.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Two Months Ago

  The ring box in the cargo pocket of Thom Grande’s tactical pants pressed against his leg. The hard square shape of the jewelers box served as a constant reminder as to why his chest felt tight and his gut twisted.

  Not that he needed the reminder. There was no way he could forget what he’d decided to do.

  He hadn’t stopped second guessing the idea since the moment the crazy notion had crossed his mind. He certainly hadn’t forgotten since he’d made the final payment when he’d picked up the ring this morning.

  Sweating in spite of the A/C blowing on high in the chilled theater filled with SEALs, Thom plucked the neck of his T-shirt away from his skin.

  How the hell long was this briefing going
to last? He blew out a huff and flopped against the padded back of the seat.

  If attendance at this thing weren’t required he’d totally—a boot stomped down on top of Thom’s foot, cutting off that thought and focusing all his attention on the source of the attack.

  “Ow.” Frowning, Thom swiveled to glare at his teammate Brody Cassidy. He whispered, “What the hell? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Me?” Brody opened his eyes wide in a pointed stare. “You’re the one who’s been tapping your damn foot on the floor like a jackhammer for the past half hour. What’s wrong with you?”

  Brody was usually a pretty laid back type of guy, but something had obviously annoyed him today. Apparently—judging by the assault on his foot—that something had been Thom.

  He hadn’t even realized he’d been tapping his foot but he believed Brody. The man had no reason to lie and Thom certainly was distracted enough to have been doing what Brody had accused him of.

  “Sorry.” Thom drew in a breath. “I guess I’m a little antsy.”

  Brody let out a snort. “No shit.”

  Thom supposed that between his fidgeting in his seat and the racket his boot must have been making on the floor, his agitation was pretty obvious to Brody and anyone else seated nearby.

  “So what’s wrong? Ain’t none of us happy to sit here all damn day for this briefing, but nobody else is crawling out of their skin about it like you are,” Brody pointed out in his distinctive slow southern drawl.

  Thom leaned far to one side to get his hand into his pocket. He emerged with the small square box. The kind of jewelers box that usually contained one thing—a ring.

  “Holy shit,” Brody hissed as he obviously figured out Thom’s intentions just from the telltale size and shape of the small black velvet box in his hand.

  His friend’s reaction had Thom’s pulse pounding as his thoughts reeled. “I know. I’m crazy, right? I shouldn’t do this. I can’t do this.”

  Since theirs had become quite a conversation it was a good thing they were seated in the way back, and that they’d all been there too long to care much about what the speaker up front was saying or if they missed hearing some of it.

  “Whoa, there.” Brody held up both hands palm forward. “Now wait a minute, bro. Step on back. I didn’t say that.”

  “No, you’re right.” Thom shoved the ring box back into one of the gusseted leg pockets in his pants, as if putting it away could or would save him from himself and his bad decisions when it came to women.

  Shit. How could one comment from Brody have Thom ready to completely change the direction of his own future? Not just his future, but Ginny’s too.

  The answer was, it hadn’t been Brody. Thom had been having some pretty serious second thoughts about this decision in the first place.

  No, that wasn’t exactly accurate. He had no doubts that he loved Ginny. What he couldn’t stomp down were his fears. Mainly, the fear the relationship would implode, just like his first marriage had.

  Was it better to leave things as they were rather than try to move forward and mess it up?

  No. He wanted her. Wanted to be with her. So why was he feeling more trepidation at the idea of proposing to Ginny than he felt during a firefight?

  He truly loved Ginny. He had since that fateful winter he’d literally crashed into her life during a Christmas Eve snowstorm.

  It physically hurt him to be away from her. He counted the days, and then the hours, until they could see each other again.

  It made no sense for him to be nearly paralyzed with fear now that he had the engagement ring in his possession. Ginny was nothing like his ex-wife. Just as his relationship with Ginny was nothing like that with his ex had been.

  There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be with Ginny until the day he died. But unlike his military career, in which he’d steadily attained the advancements he’d worked for, marriage was the one area in his life where he’d tried and failed—and failed in a spectacularly miserable way. Or was it a miserably spectacular way?

  However he thought of it, it had been bad. Epically bad.

  Even so, it wasn’t as if SEALs didn’t get married. Plenty operators he knew did. A few even stayed married. But Thom and Debbie’s divorce had been particularly nasty.

  His ex-wife had left him so penniless the only real surprise here was that he’d saved enough money to buy an engagement ring for Ginny.

  It wasn’t just himself and his own feelings factoring into the decision. There were his kids to consider and his ex-wife’s overbearing control over his visitation with them.

  Then there was his schedule, which sent him all over the world at the whim of the military.

  And there was Ginny and the hurdles on her end of this long distance relationship. She had a life in Connecticut, far away from Virginia. Her family was up north and from what he’d learned over the years they’d been dating, her mother was not going to be at all happy at the thought of her only child moving away to be with him.

  He was away a lot. To ask Ginny to wait for him, alone in base housing, wondering where he was and when he’d be back, didn’t seem fair to her. Or to her family who was used to having her close by.

  In light of all that, why he was nervous was no longer the question. What had made him even think he could make this work? That was the question.

  He glanced toward the front of the theater. This thing had to be over soon.

  Checking the time on his cell, he discovered that it wasn’t as late as he’d assumed. It only felt as if they’d been there forever.

  Sighing, Thom slumped in his seat.

  Leaning closer, Brody said, “Hey, listen to me. When we get the hell out of here you and I are gonna go somewhere and talk this through. A’ight?”

  Thom nodded, giving in. “Okay. Thanks.”

  He didn’t know how talking to Brody could help, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

  It wasn’t as if he had a better idea. Or something better to do. Not with Ginny four hundred miles away. Four hundred and four to be exact. He’d counted each and every mile the too few times he’d driven to be with her.

  Before he talked himself out of this proposal, abandoned his plan and had to ask the jeweler about his return policy, Thom figured he should at least be open to reasoning things out, rationally, possibly over a drink since he sure felt as if he could use one.

  Hell after his flipping out on his teammate, on top of the boredom of the past few hours, Thom was pretty sure Brody could use a beer too . . . or something stronger.

  Given how crazed Thom felt at the moment, bourbon straight up definitely wasn’t out of the question.

  The cell, still in his hand so he could obsess about the time, vibrated.

  There was a rustling of motion and the glow of blue light around him as other men checked their own phones. Next to him, Brody reached for his pocket too.

  Thom didn’t need to look at the display to know what was happening. All the signs were there. A platoon’s worth of SEALs getting simultaneous texts in the middle of an all-hands briefing could mean only one thing. They were getting called in for something.

  So much for his planned visit with Ginny.

  “Shit.” Thom breathed out the curse, low and mostly to himself.

  “Yup.” Brody’s agreement as he bent over the cell in his hand told Thom his teammate had heard him and agreed with the sentiment. The cell’s display illuminated Brody’s face in the dim theater before he clicked it off. “Time to go.”

  Brody stood. Thom and about a dozen other guys did the same.

  This was clearly one of those good news, bad news kinds of situations. The good news was they got to leave this eternally long required briefing. The bad news was there was no telling what they were being recalled for or what they were about to walk into.

  This—getting yanked away on next to no notice to travel God only knew where for an assignment of indeterminate danger for an undisclosed amount of time if he came home at all
—was exactly why Thom shouldn’t even think about proposing to Ginny.

  It was also exactly why he wanted to. Why he had to.

  If this morning were to be the last day he woke on this earth, he would have wanted to wake next to her.

  As he walked shoulder to shoulder with Brody toward the meeting room, he felt calmer about his decision to propose than he had all day.

  That considering his own death had settled his restless mind was pretty screwed up. But then again, the men who opted for a career in Naval Special Warfare didn’t tend to think the same as others.

  Of course, his calm could also stem from knowing that thanks to getting recalled he had a temporary reprieve from having to do anything regarding the ring in his pocket.

  Now that he wasn’t a nervous wreck and his obsessing was done—for the time being—he turned his mind to possible reasons for the summons from command.

  “What do you think this is about?” Thom asked Brody, even though they’d all know soon enough anyway.

  Brody blew out a loud, lip-flapping breath. “The way things have been lately, there ain’t no telling.”

  Thom sniffed in agreement. “That’s the truth.”

  They’d all been on high alert and told to expect the possibility of more high profile terrorist attacks in larger cities since Ramadan was about to begin.

  Besides that, any number of things could have happened anywhere in the world while they’d been in the briefing. Or nothing had happened but some politician had decided that now was the time to call on them for a showy mission to grab some press.

  In spite of the need for secrecy, the media loved to report on SEAL Team 6, and the politicians taking credit for the team’s successes didn’t hate the public exposure.

  It didn’t take long to cover the distance from the theater to the meeting room. When Thom walked through the door he could see his commander, Grant Milton, was already in the front of the room flipping through some papers in a file folder.

  Grant glanced up as operators filed into the room. He looked like he was in a hurry to get started, which gave Thom a clue as to the urgency of the situation. Luckily, everyone called in should have been on base for the all-hands meeting so they wouldn’t have to wait long for anyone.