SEAL Mountain Man (A Navy SEAL Brotherhood Romance) Read online

  “Thanks,” I smiled.

  “I’ve heard amazing things about you. I know you’ll fit right in here,” Mitchell offered, lingering at the door.

  “I appreciate the opportunity. I know I’ll love it here,” I forced a half-smile.

  Mitchell nodded, and then left me alone with my box, my thoughts, and the hideous décor of the room.

  I was grateful for the opportunity, that was true, but I wasn’t sure I would learn to love this place. At twenty-eight, it was amazing to be offered a partnership in an already established practice. The clients were mostly retired Navy vets that stayed on the island after their service. I looked forward to talking to them, helping them, especially after losing both my brother and my father. The SEALS brotherhood was what they lived for, even my dad, years after he retired, he was loyal to the men who he served with, and his stories always ended up on the topic of his military days. I missed those stories, so bad it actually hurt my heart.

  The contents of my box were unpacked, and there was nothing left for me to do. Tomorrow would start a new day, a new chapter in my life, even though it felt as though I’d already lived this chapter.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said to Mitchell as I stuck my head in his doorway. He lifted his eyes from his laptop and smiled.

  It had only been a couple days since I’d returned to the islands, and to my childhood home. The Asian delivery place right next to my house had been dinner each night, but I wanted something different, something that reminded me of the states, of New York, the home I’d left to come back here.

  I drove down the road, slowing at a coffee shop sign that promised to have the best cup of coffee in town, and gourmet doughnuts. That was probably as close to New York I was going to get, so I pulled into the parking lot.

  My mouth watered as I walked in the door, the aroma of savory and sweet delicacies nearly lifted me from my feet and carried me to the counter. It was just like home—New York home. The bakery across the street from my old office had the same familiar aroma, the same delicious baked goods, and the same unique style décor. “Welcome to Mad Creations,” a familiar voice greeted me. I turned toward the sweet voice, shocked to see my best friend from high school, Madison standing behind the counter. Her hair was still red and curly, and her body still short and pudgy, although I’d say she’d put on a few pounds since high school. “Oh my God, Taylor, is that you?” she squealed, rushing from behind the counter and towards me like a charging bull. I didn’t have time to prepare for her embrace that nearly knocked me back two steps. “I haven’t seen you since graduation,” she squeezed her arms around my torso like a boa constrictor subduing its prey.

  “I just got back into town,” I exhaled as she released her grip.

  Her eyes narrowed, and her lips rolled to a frown as she stared into my eyes. “I heard about your father, I’m so sorry, Taylor,” she consoled me.

  “Thank you,” I choked out while struggling to hold back my tears. “It’s good to see you.”

  Her bright green eyes lit up, and her smile warmed my heart. “Sit, I’ll get us a coffee and we can catch up,” she insisted, motioning for me to take a seat. “You hungry?” she asked. I nodded. I was starving.

  I watched her go behind the counter, pull out a couple huge doughnuts with a specialty glaze, and then order the young girl at the register to make two French vanilla coffees.

  “So, what have you been up to?” Madison asked, taking a seat beside me.

  I filled her in on my adventures in New York. She sat with her elbows on the table, propping up her head as her eyes danced and her lips curled. “I wish I would’ve taken off after college,” she sighed.

  I knew Madison had taken a course at the community college and never had plans on leaving the island. She always told me I’d leave and never come back, forgetting her forever. It was somewhat true. I hadn’t thought about Madison much, even though we were attached at the hip all through school. Now, here we were, all grown up, chatting like we’ve never missed a day.

  “Are you married?” Madison asked, reaching for my left hand. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed I didn’t have a ring. “Divorced?” she groaned.

  I laughed. “No, never married.”

  I hadn’t had much time to think about dating, let alone marriage. My life was busy, too busy. So busy that I hadn’t even been there for my dad. “What about you?” I asked, expecting to find out she was married with three kids already.

  “I’m dating someone, but no proposal, yet,” she said hopefully.

  An older couple came into the store, causing a small bell to ring as they entered. “I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss,” I whispered to Madison.

  The young girl behind the counter greeted the customers and then moved to the cash register to take their order.

  “My boss is pretty cool,” she smirked.

  “This is your shop?” I gushed. She nodded proudly, her cheeks turning a pale shade of pink.

  “Mad Creations, Madison,” she explained the name.

  I felt bad for not visiting her, or even looking her up when I’d made trips home to visit my dad. They were always only a couple day visits with the long flights sucking up most of my vacation time. Madison was my dearest friend, one of the sweetest people I knew, and sitting her with her now made me feel a little better about moving back to Hawaii.

  “This is amazing,” I grumbled as I chewed on the sweet doughnut with a savory bacon frosting. The tiny candied bacon pieces on the top of the doughnut put the fancy place I frequented in New York to shame.

  Madison’s cheeks turned a little brighter pink as she thanked me. She’d always been modest, unable to take a compliment without blushing or giggling.

  “Well, maybe this will be your new favorite spot,” she grinned.

  There was no maybe about it; this was my new favorite spot. “Are you back in your old house?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s so weird to be back home without…” I paused. I felt my throat swell and a lump form in the center as I worked to hold back tears. I couldn’t bring myself to say without my dad, or my brother.

  A few more people straggled into the shop, a younger group, loud and laughing at a joke they shared. I noticed Madison become a little anxious, and I knew she needed to help the girl at the counter. “I’m going to take this to go and let you get back to work, if you don’t mind,” I smiled, scooting my chair from the table and grabbing the remains of my doughnut and coffee as I stood.

  “Come back and see me, or maybe I’ll come see you,” she suggested, and then gave me a quick hug before rushing to her customers.

  She was a silver lining in my dark cloud of life.

  Chapter Three

  Elijah

  I’d had a week to think about my trip back home, and my father’s death. The only thing I’d gotten figured out was, I was actually glad my father was dead, and that feeling that way made me sick to my stomach with guilt.

  A car horn sounded outside my house, causing me to grab my bags and head for the door. I took one last look around at my place and walked out the door.

  Isaac grinned as he held his head out of the driver’s side window of his car. Sometimes I hated that Isaac was so damn chipper, so fucking happy. All I wanted to do was throw up right now. “Put your bags in the trunk,” he said, pulling the lever by his seat and stepping out of the car.

  He grabbed my largest bag from my left hand and flung it into the trunk while I stashed my other two smaller ones in next to it. “You ready for this?” Isaac asked.

  “Nope,” I smirked, and slammed the trunk shut.

  “If you need me to go, I can get a later flight, or hell, I’ll just go now and buy what I need once I’m there,” Isaac offered.

  “Maddie would have your ass,” I laughed at the thought of Isaac explaining his spontaneous trip to paradise to Maddie.

  He grinned in agreement and chuckled. “I just miss Hawaii,” he admitted.

  It had been about
four years since we were stationed there, and neither of us had been back. Isaac often talked about it, wishfully stating he’d move there one day. I never did have that dream. It was my home as a child, and it wasn’t a good one. It didn’t matter how beautiful Molokai was, to me, it was filled with ugly memories.

  “How long do you plan on staying?” Isaac asked.

  “I’m not sure how long it will take to get the house settled. Maybe a couple weeks,” I responded weakly.

  I wasn’t sure what I was walking into. If my dad had been sick for years, then he probably wasn’t keeping up with the house. There would most likely be plenty for me to do once I arrived, just to get the place in shape to sell.

  “Unless I torch the place, then I’ll be on the next flight home,” I smirked.

  Isaac didn’t look amused. I knew he wanted to ask why I wasn’t close to my dad, why it didn’t bother me that he died, but he didn’t dare. Men didn’t talk about those things, especially Navy SEAL men.

  “You never know, you might get there and decide you love it and want to stay,” he beamed.

  “Not a fuckin’ chance,” I sneered.

  “Well, if you find Xander, tell him I said hey,” Isaac asked with a smile.

  The rest of the drive he talked about Maddie, telling me how she was enthralled in wedding planning to the point she was nearly insane. It was strange listening to him talk, the high pitch in his voice displaying his excitement, even when he tried so hard to act annoyed. He loved every minute of this domesticated shit, it was written all over his smug face. “When is the wedding?” I asked.

  “We haven’t set the date yet, that’s another big issue,” he sighed to display yet another fake annoyance. I grinned in his direction, biting my tongue to keep from calling him out.

  “So, you’ll probably run into a lot of people you haven’t seen in years, like high school friends, maybe a high school sweetheart,” Isaac teased.

  I shrugged and let out a grumble, not really excited to run into anyone on this trip. There were several high school sweethearts, but none that I still pined over, and my best friend, Tommy Madden, who was killed in combat. I held him in my arms, watching him fade away. I was there for his last breath, the last beat of his heart.

  “I doubt there’s too many I would remember, or who’d remember me,” I scoffed.

  I didn’t want to bring up Tommy; Isaac and he had become really close during the tour where he was killed. I knew he still thought of him often, and was probably thinking about him now. There was no need to talk about it.

  “We’re here; last chance to turn back,” Isaac joked, pulling up the airport curb. I wished it was that easy, to just turn back. Why couldn’t I? Why wouldn’t I just let the damn house be condemned and plowed to the ground?

  I got out of the car, lifting my bags from the trunk after Isaac released it from inside the car. He stood beside me as I gathered all my bags with an awkward look in his eyes. Suddenly, his arms wrapped around me, and he was squeezing me tightly against him. “Jesus, I’m coming back,” I sneered, stepping back from his embrace. I couldn’t help but laugh, maybe nervousness, embarrassment, or a little of both. I’d never hugged a man before, and never had one hug me. It felt strange, but not bad like I’d expected.

  I shook my head, laughing, as I walked away from Isaac and into the airport. This was it, last chance for turning back, so why didn’t I?

  The airport was crowded, and people were rushing in every direction. I scanned the counters until I found my airline, and then moved to the line to check my bags. A heavyset man moved to the front, heaving his large bag up on the scale. Watching him struggle with the fraying bag made it obvious that it was over the weight limit, so when the woman at the counter told him he had additional charges, the only one surprised was the man.

  I shifted my weight from left to right, sighing and growing impatient as the man started pulling items from the large bag, stuffing them into a smaller one, and some into his carry on. Finally, he managed to evenly distribute the weight so he saved some cash, and I was next.

  The woman at the counter had dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. Her smile spread across her face with perfectly painted red lips. “I’m sorry for the wait,” she apologized.

  I nodded, trying to avoid staring at her large chest popping out from her undone button on her blouse. She took my bags, weighed them, and then handed me my boarding pass. “Have a wonderful trip; I hear Molokai is beautiful,” she smiled.

  I nodded again; no reason to tell her my trip wasn’t for pleasure, or that I thought Molokai was filled with ugly memories, no matter how beautiful the landscape.

  The crowd of people started to thin out as each one moved towards their gate. Mine was all the way at the end, and even after the wait at the luggage counter, and the long walk, I’d still arrived forty-five minutes before boarding time.

  I spun around, scanning the area, stopping my sights on a bar just across from my gate. I could use a stiff drink; hell, I could use the entire bottle.

  Only a few businessmen sat in the corner of the bar, their briefcases at their feet, and their smartphones in their hands. No one was at the bar, and even the bartender seemed to be absent. I took a seat at the end of the bar and stared at the bottles. I was planning on grabbing a beer, maybe an imported draft, but the Jack Daniels was screaming my name.

  Finally, a leggy blonde came out of a small door behind the bar. She was carrying a plate of food, headed towards the businessmen in the corner. “Be right with you, hon,” she winked in my direction.

  My dick twitched against my jeans, coming alive without permission. She slid the plate in front of the men, a cheese tray with grapes and tiny breads. Pretentious.

  My eyes followed her every movement, so smooth, so cat-like. Damn. “What can I get ya?” she asked, her southern accent so thick it seemed fake. I lifted my eyes from her breasts and to her smoky-gray eyes. This was certainly the type of woman that I’d invite to that small little room she’d appeared from for a quick, but proper hello.

  “Jack,” I smiled.

  She turned to grab the bottle, giving me a nice view of her rear. The woman looked like she fell right from the pages of the Playboy magazine I used to look at hidden under my dad’s mattress as a boy.

  The glass slid in front of me, the smell distinct and familiar. As I lifted it to my nose, memories of my dad, his drunken rages, and my dysfunctional childhood returned.

  I took a sip, and then a guzzle, finishing the drink without restraint. “One more, please,” I winked.

  Her full lips pouted out playfully as her eyes batted in my direction. Again, she turned, and that ass, damn that fuckin’ ass. I squirmed in my seat, adjusting my dick as it began to push against the denim. Thoughts of bending her over the bar, fucking her right here in front of everyone soared through my mind like a Learjet.

  “Where ya headed?” she asked, sliding the second glass of Jack in front of me.

  “Molokai,” I replied, sipping my drink slowly.

  “Alone?” she gasped, her flirtatious nature not so discreet.

  “It's home,” I grumbled, not agreeing with my own words as soon as they escaped my lips. It used to be home. It wasn’t home now. Miami was home. Molokai would never be home to me again.

  Her interest piqued, and I could tell it wouldn’t take much to get that tight skirt up around her hips and those panties to her ankles. A thong, probably lace; that’s what it was, I bet. Fuck. I downed my drink, left a fifty on the bar, and excused myself before I got into trouble.

  She looked disappointed that I was leaving, even with the hefty tip.

  I took a seat in my gate’s waiting area and let my head rest against the stiff vinyl chair. Maybe the flight would be delayed, maybe canceled. Maybe Molokai would fall into the ocean, and I’d never have to go back there again, ever.

  Chapter Four

  Taylor

  Birds sang outside my window, their cheerful melody pulling me from my sleep. I slid u
p in bed, staring around my childhood room; nothing much had changed. Posters lined my walls of my favorite bands from high school, awards, trophys, and pictures were all in the same place where I’d left them a decade ago, and for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to change anything. I kept thinking that one morning I’d wake up and hear my dad calling me for breakfast, or my brother yelling at the TV during a basketball game. But, each morning I woke up to silence, to emptiness, to the reality that they were both gone.

  The hardwood floors were cool against my feet as I stepped out of bed. I hurried for my slippers and walked out of my room to the hall. I adjusted the thermostat, turning off the cold air, and stopped at the sofa table where a picture of my brother, dad, and me sat. It was the last picture the three of us had taken together, and as I picked it up, I realized it was the last picture ever taken of my brother.

  The aroma of coffee floated through the house, pulling me towards the kitchen. I poured a cup of coffee and carried my mug and the photo out to the back porch.

  Tommy looked so young. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the last time I saw my brother. We were both home for a holiday, Christmas I think. He looked so handsome in his Navy SEAL uniform, and I was envious that he was stationed in Hawaii, not far from home. Dad was so proud, boasting about his own days as a SEAL over our meal.

  I laughed as tears rolled down my cheeks, remembering how Tommy used to tease me, and how he’d defended me when dad complained about me moving to New York. I missed him so much!