A SEAL at Heart (18 page)

Without uttering a single syllable to the accused, she dumped her favorite ice cream treat on his head—cone and all—and then turned and walked away. That was it! She had nothing more to say to him. That rat bastard!

“Laurie! Wait! Laurie, I can explain everything.” Jack caught her arm, stopping her retreat. “You owe me that much.”

“I owe, you? Fuck you, Jack. I owe you nothing!” She held a hand on her belly. A noise was buzzing in her head, and she desperately wanted to throw up.
I
am
the
daughter
of
a
SEAL. I will not cry, and I will not throw up!

“Wait. Please let me talk to you—face-to-face.” As he turned her to look him in the eye, she felt her gut convulse as she threw up all over Petty Officer First Class Jack Roaker. “These ladies are from…”

Chunks of chocolate and strawberry streamed out of her mouth, landing all over his navy-blue running shorts and white T-shirt with the words
Doing
It
Dirty
written in gold. It seemed oddly appropriate to her, because Jack was all about mucking around in the dirt and with the ladies…

The chunks and liquid slid down his shirt and shorts and onto his golden skin. His grip was firm. He kept holding her arm, not moving. She had to give him a tiny amount of credit for not thrusting her away. She wasn’t sure she could have been still while someone threw up on her.

“Shit! Laurie, are you okay?” Rather than wait for an answer, he scooped her up—carrying her at arm’s length—and placed her in a chair. After she was seated, he brought her a glass of ice water from the waitress bar located only a few feet away from the table, at the back gate.

Grabbing a wet bar rag, he wiped himself off, and then seated himself across from her. He propped his elbows on his thighs, those heavily muscled legs that begged for a woman’s touch. “Laurie. Listen to me. There’s a lot, so much, I have to tell you…”

At this point, she was so numb, she didn’t know what to say. She could see his mouth moving, but his words didn’t penetrate. Wavering between anger and attraction, her brain was just too confused. What could he possible say that would resolve this intensely crazy situation?

Literally, she had caught the man red-handed…and blond-handed, and brunette-handed, too.

Heaven help her! The worst nightmare she could ever imagine had just come true: being knocked up by a military guy who screwed around and was completely dishonest with her. What could be worse?

The bevy of ladies drifted by them as tears filled her eyes. The brunette frowned at her and stuck out her tongue.

Laurie did not care one whit as the ladies left the bar. She just stared at Jack as he babbled on. Shaking her head, she decided she just didn’t want to hear one more syllable come from his mouth. It was a jumble of discordant noises, and she couldn’t take it one second longer.

“Don’t worry! I’m not asking you for a damned thing. I want nothing from you!” Gulping in air, she attempted to steady her nerves, but she had so much more to say. “Stop! Just stop, Jack. Please. I don’t want to hear it! I might be pregnant, and this is my choice, my decision.”

Jack was trying to say something even as his eyes looked like they were popping out of his head. He looked shocked beyond words.

Taking several deep breaths, she said, “Listen. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come find me. Not at home. Not at work. Just let me be.” Standing up, she wavered for a minute and then steadied herself. “I’m a strong woman, Jack. I’m just disappointed, and very sorry; you’re not the man I thought you were. I don’t need a person like you in my life. One SEAL that dicked around was quite enough in this lifetime. Good-bye, Jack.”

Keep
walking. Don’t look back. This is for the best!
She repeated the phrases as her feet took her forward and walked her out of McP’s.

The pub had always been a safe place. As a child she had played on the patio; when she was a teenager, dates had taken her there for a meal; in the summertime, Gich and her father had brought her to enjoy the music on Sundays; and now, she’d just told the man she loved she might be pregnant and never wanted to see him again.

Had she come full circle? Or was life very much like the past—doomed to repeat patterns?

In the car, she started the engine and pulled into the rush of traffic. Cars sped by, beeping their horns at her. The speedometer read twenty miles per hour, and she pushed the accelerator to make the car go faster.

Everything felt out of sync as she squeezed the steering wheel. Her fingers ached at the pressure and she had to loosen her grip. Fishing in her purse for her cell phone, she contemplated calling Gich and ratting on Jack. Rarely had she allowed herself to push that particular panic button, but was she justified here? What if she changed her mind and wanted to get together with him? “It’ll never happen. I’m too angry.”

Images ran through her head of the men brawling. “He’d kick Jack’s ass if I asked him to.” Staring at the ten digits, she just couldn’t bring herself to call. Gich would be so disappointed in her, and Jack would be toast. Years ago, he had told her he wanted love, marriage, and a happily-ever-after for her. Now, she realized she wanted that, too, but fate seemed to have a different plan.

Dropping the phone on the passenger seat, she abandoned the call. In her heart of hearts, she just could not believe that Jack was a player. Something else must be wrong! Without the answer, though, her heart was breaking one tiny piece at a time, and pretty soon there would be nothing left.

A car cut her off, almost causing an accident. Her body shook.

Tears streamed down her face, making it too hard to see, so she put on her blinker and pulled over. Turning off the car engine, she put her head on the steering wheel and wept.

Thoughts whirled in her head. What had she done? She’d just kicked the man whom she loved out of her life! What was she, a complete idiot?

Confusion made the tears come faster. Her hands slammed against the steering wheel.

A loud rap on the window startled her. Laurie looked up to see a police officer. She turned the key halfway and lowered her window. “Y-y-yes.”

“Ma’am, are you okay?” The police officer looked concerned. She needed that right now.

“No,” she sobbed. “I’m not. I might be pregnant and I just told the father to take a flying leap.” Groping in the center console, she found a small packet of tissues. She blew her nose. Speaking very fast, she asked, “Did I make the right decision? I mean, I did, right? I caught him with other women, and that says he’s a jerk! Right?” She was now weeping with an open mouth, so she could breathe.

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath. “Ma’am, is there someone you can call? I’ll wait with you.”

“P-p-papa G-g-gich,” she stammered. Grabbing the cell phone from the empty passenger seat, she shoved it into the cop’s hand. “I want Papa! Waaaaaahhhhh!”

A part of her brain knew she was opening not just a can of worms, but a box of vipers by inviting Gich into the situation, but the stress of the moment had gone well beyond her ability to cope. If ever a girl needed her daddy, it was now, and Gich was the closest thing she’d ever had to a parent who cared.

“Sir, this is Officer DeGines. Is this Papa Gich? Your daughter is sitting in her car on Orange Avenue in Coronado. I think she’s going to need a ride home.” The cop paused. “No, sir, she was not in an accident, but the, uh, hormones of her pregnancy might be adding to the, uh, situation, sir.”

“What? Pregnant!” Gich’s voice shouted over the phone, and she could hear him clearly. “Well, that fucking asshole! I didn’t see that one coming. I’ll be right there.”

It seemed as if only a few minutes passed before Gich’s truck pulled up in front of her car. The cigar stump usually clenched between his teeth was missing, and he was wearing a clean button-down Hawaiian shirt. He’d probably done that for her, made himself respectable so the cop would let him take her home.

Gich shook hands with the police officer. They traded comments and then Gich helped her out of the car. He didn’t utter a single negative word as he placed her safely inside the cab of his truck and then fetched her purse and locked her vehicle behind him. “I’m here, sweet Laurie. You can relax.”

She blew her nose on the wad of crumpled tissues in her hand. Suddenly, familiar scents tickled her nostrils: Gich’s musky aftershave, the faint scent of his robust cigar, and sea air.

Help
me!
Would Gich take her to his home? Living in a small house on the edge of the ocean in Imperial Beach made everything smell like salt water. As a child, she’d adored it. Life was easier then.

Lying down on the seat, she placed her head on his lap. His hand stroked her hair for a few seconds and then settled on her shoulder for balance while he snapped the seat belt around her, and then he started the truck. Of course, he never put one on. He detested being restrained by convention or the law. The rebel instinct was alive and well in him. But he always made sure she was safe.

Slowly he pulled away from the curb and headed toward home. “Thank you, Papa Gich.”

“I’m here, Laurie girl. I’ll always be here.” His words drew a few more tears to drip from her swollen eyes. She loved him more than she could say and was grateful for his presence in her life.

The tears dried, and unfortunately, hiccups surfaced from deep in her diaphragm to accompany them on their journey across the bridge.

“I love you, Laurie,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “I will always stand by you.” She knew he was telling the truth. Gich was always true to his word—the one man she could count on.

“Papa Gich will make it better,” he said as she closed her eyes. Gich would take care of everything—just as a daddy should always do for a child.

Keep your eyes up and your ass down.

—Favorite saying of Moki Martin, retired SEAL

“Roaker! You selfish son of a bitch! What the hell were you thinking?” Gich appeared in front of him on the street, almost as if he had materialized there. The man flew under everyone’s radar, and it didn’t surprise Jack that his mentor would seek him out.

“Took you long enough,” said Jack, annoyed. “For the record, those ladies had just toured the base and Spasick—Team ONE’s Intel Officer—asked me to drop them off here. He had back-to-back commitments.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck about tourists? I’m talking about Laurie.” Gich pointed a finger into Jack’s chest and it felt like a spear skewering his heart.

He had nothing to say. No words. Whatever was coming his way, he’d own it like a man, but fuck, he wished he didn’t have to do this.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re going to play it. No words. No defense. You just going to take it.” Gich’s face was red and his fists were like two large hams. “I’d like nothing better than to beat you senseless. Pretty fucking futile if you didn’t fight back.”

“Aw, you called me, pretty!” Unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, Jack shook his head. Emotions pounded his heart and brain, making his head feel like it was about to explode. When he looked up, Jack sought Gich’s eyes with his own.

Tears slid quietly from his eyes. He didn’t bother to wipe them away. “Gich, what the hell am I going to do? My whole life is screwed up and I’m hurting the people who are most important to me.”

His gaze held tight and then slowly the fury slid off Gich’s face. The man scratched his chin, hemming and muttering to himself. Finally, he took Jack’s arm and led him to a table tucked next to a local café. They sat down on opposite sides of the table.

Jack couldn’t stop the waterworks. Silently he wept as Gich watched him.

After a time, Gich punched Jack’s arm and said, “C’mon Jack, crying lets the pain out, and now it’s time to stop and address the problem. Give me the Sit Rep.” This was one of the reasons Gich was a top BUD/S Instructor. He was always teaching the newbies life lessons.

Shrugging off the mantle of frustration and upset, Jack wiped his face on his shirt and looked Gich in the eyes again. “She told me not to contact her. I’m not letting her go through this alone. I want to marry her. I will provide for her and the child. And I need her to get that.”

Leaning back in his seat, Gich stroked his mustache. “My boy, the fact you started this discussion focusing on her, with all the crap you have going on, shows me that you have honor. But I knew that about you—you stepped up in the past and continue to do it in the present. So then, why didn’t you call her for six weeks?”

“The XO forbade it, ordered me to withdraw completely, and I follow orders. What happens if I don’t? The repercussion for
not
doing as we are told is—I would be thrown in the brig, and Laurie could be in trouble for eliciting information that threatens national security.” His emotions rode so high, Jack spoke as if he were running a race. “I know, it sounds like a load of shit! The killer hook was the fact that Laurie helped me. The fucking doctor who put all of this in motion couldn’t and he hated that fact!”

Slamming his fist on the table, which made the steel and wood frame vibrate, Jack shook his head, wishing it were a big mistake. “I shouldn’t have told that doctor anything. Not a goddamned thing! I was so fucking thrilled to have some of my memory back that I babbled like a two-year-old. Why didn’t I think first… think about the fact that the XO would be reviewing any important notes with the doc?”

Gich’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, well, well, that is interesting. All of your ‘sessions’ are confidential and the XO didn’t have a right to know those exact details unless your doc’s a dick and you pissed him off. Though the Navy does have a few peculiar regulations when it comes to National Security and civilians.” He stretched his legs in front of him and said, “Let’s face facts, Jack, you’re a SEAL. You could have found a way around ‘not talking’ to her. Texting. A letter. Or calling your old mentor for a drink and asking him to pass a message on to the lady I didn’t want you to date.”

“Fuck! Why didn’t I think of—?”

“You didn’t use your noggin, Jack! Half of me wants to believe this cock-and-bull story of yours, and the other half feels like you’re blowing smoke.” Signaling the waitress, who had been lingering just inside the door, he ordered. “I’d like a black coffee with a shot of whiskey, and he’ll have the same, but unleaded. Don’t tell me that you don’t have whiskey, because I saw your cook, Charlie, less than twenty minutes ago buying a bottle for some fancy damn recipe.”

The waitress laughed and went off to fill the order.

“Jack, you’re up Shit Creek and I don’t know how to give you a paddle.” Gich studied his fingers. “Laurie is my daughter. I adopted her, way back when her dad died, and I have to put her first. She isn’t like you or me. We can make do. We can make something out of nothing and be fine. Our lives are hard and filled with pain and torment, but we chose it. She was born into it, yet that doesn’t mean she wants to be tough all the time.”

The waitress placed the coffees and some napkins in front of them and left. Gich sipped his drink that looked more whiskey than coffee. The cook knocked on the window and Gich toasted him with the mug.

Gich pressed Jack further. “What else did the XO say? I can’t believe he didn’t give you any other out.”

“Fuck! Fuck! I can’t believe I didn’t catch that!” Jack sat up straight in his chair and looked Gich square in the eyes. “He told me to do what I needed to do—to heal. Fucking asshole, this was my out. Why didn’t I see it before?”

“Because you got stuck on emotion—missing her—and not on how to maneuver around the equation.” Gich snorted derisively. “Okay, now let’s see if I can wrap my brain around this, Jack. This was a miscommunication of sorts, and you like Laurie, is that right?” Putting his arm on the table, Gich leaned forward, staring at Jack, almost daring him to be a lothario.

“Of course, I like her!” Jack was incredulous. “I more than like her. And… and I know I owe you an apology, too. I should have come to you. I’d like to do that now, ask you if I can be with her.”

“That boat might have sailed, my brother. Laurie’s not like other people. She’s strong and can handle the truth, but deceit really pisses her off and her memory is eternal.” Gich stroked his mustache in contemplation. “What are you going to do about that?”

“Everything I can possibly do… with your help and blessing, of course,” said Jack. “I’ll marry her if she wants a ring; otherwise I’ll support her and be there when I can.”

Gich finished his coffee and then said, “I’d refine that speech. You’re not going to win agreement from her with that crap. Either love her and be with her or don’t bother.” Gich shrugged. “I went through something similar once. There was a lady I liked. I couldn’t own it, and she married my best friend, my swim buddy. The life I should have had went to someone else, and I’ve spent the rest of my life picking up the pieces of one of my biggest mistakes.”

Leaning back in his chair, Gich continued. “I’ll be honest with you, Jack, you’re not good enough for Laurie. No one is. But if it has to be a Team guy, then you’re one of the best I know. Don’t do this—go any further with Laurie—if you’re planning to ring out. She doesn’t need the heartache and neither do I.”

Jack’s gaze was steely. “I don’t quit, sir. That word is not in my vocabulary.”

Gich nodded. “We’ve got a long road ahead of us. I’ll do what I can to bridge the gap, and the rest of it will be up to you.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Jack grinned and then added, “Dad.”

A shiver went through Gich. “Shit! I guess that means I’m going to be a grandpa. I never thought I’d see that day so soon. And don’t you be spreading the gratitude so swiftly. You’re not secure, Jack. Not yet.” Gich wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Come on, let’s go to McP’s for a real drink. This is going to require a serious strategy and thorough planning.”

***

Bringing another shot of tequila to his lips, Jack slammed it back and placed the empty glass on the table. The liquid burned a fiery trail to his gut. His head was already swimming and he knew it probably wasn’t the wisest move, but whatever challenge Gich put in front of him, he took. In many ways, it did numb the pain.

Fuck
me!

His stomach rolled, preparing to toss the contents of three hours of drinking steadily. Jack stood, nodded to Gich, and actually made it to the men’s room before he hurled seven shots and six beers into the toilet.

When his stomach was empty, he leaned his head against the wall.
Why
am
I
doing
this?
Within ten minutes of arriving at McP’s they’d achieved a plan. Gich was going to talk to Laurie and convince her to hear her former lover and, he hoped, soon-to-be husband out.

Hell! A husband! I’m not ready for marriage.
Yet Laurie was different. The woman was capable of pushing his head and heart ten different ways. Feeling his cock slide into her was a slice of heaven he’d be happy reliving for the bulk of his days.

God only knew if it would change things in their relationship, being married. Some of his brethren said it did and others really liked the security of being married. No more going from woman to woman or having to play “Guess your insecurities” or “Are you more fucked-up than me?”

The throbbing in his head lessened and he made his way to the sink. He washed his hands and splashed water on his face. Using his shirttail as a towel, he mopped his eyes and mouth and then straightened his clothing. Knowing this was as presentable as it was going to get, he left the washroom and headed back to the table.

Two more shots were waiting for him. Gich eyed him and then nodded. “You should have plenty of room for more, now.”

Jack wasn’t exactly sure what made him shake his head. Nonetheless, he sat down at the table and said, “I’m done, Gich. I’ve never been a drinker and I’m not going to start now.”

“Good on you, son,” replied Gich as he reached over and downed the drinks. “I knew you had a steady hand on the helm, Roaker. Now, keep thinking and living that way. Between us, I had to know that you would say your limit.” Placing the glasses on the table, he signaled to the waitress for a check. “Laurie’s biological daddy drank until everything disappeared. You and I have spent enough time together that I have a pulse on your personality, but I had to know if you had a line.”

Digging bills out of his wallet, Gich dumped them on the table next to the check. Then he leaned forward. “Toe the line, Jack.”

“Yes, sir.” That was a promise. “Out of curiosity, if I had kept drinking, what would you have done?”

Gich shrugged his shoulders. “Probably sobered you up and made you drink again, until you showed me a line.” He scratched his chin. “Though I could see the part of you that wanted to take the punishment I was dishing out. There’s a wiser part inside that wouldn’t let you put yourself in jeopardy and was quite done with the game.”

“Yeah,” said Jack was a slow grin. “My gut said it was time and I listened. Guess that’s good.”

“Always,” said Gich. “Now help an old man over to that Mexican restaurant on the next block for some food. I’m not going to waste excellent tequila by being a sissy bear and throwing it up. Instead let’s get some tamales and really give the alcohol something useful to do.”

“Sure thing. I need coffee,” said Jack as he accompanied the only man alive who could bring him to his knees and build him back up with a single look. Today, though, all alone he’d turned a corner. A piece of him had grown—away from Gich and patriarchs and “must dos”—to be independent of the past and to know how clearly he was taking deliberate steps to shape his own future.

He was sure some men missed the signal to take a life-changing turn. The tools to make his life what he wanted it to be were right here, inside of him. It was about desire. In his mind anything was possible, if strategized properly.