Embattled SEAL (14 page)

They went back to the house and parked in the garage. Circling the hood, he pulled Cat’s door open and carried her into the house. As he dropped her to the bed in the bedroom, she laughed up at him. “Oh, really?”

He nodded once. “Yes, oh really. Get rid of those pants.”

Without the fear of pulling stitches or lingering infection, Harper felt like a completely different man. It was all psychological of course, but the change was significant. It released a ball of tension he had been carrying around for too long. That release made him almost giddy and Cat caught onto his playful mood.

He nibbled his way up her long legs, pausing only long enough to tug her panties away before spreading her knees wide. Cat’s breath caught as he kissed his way to the thatch of dark curls at the juncture of her thighs, then deeper. Sighing in pleasure she rested her hands on his head, giving him subtle directions. Her thighs tightened around his head as his tongue swirled around her clit, but he didn’t let her dislodge him. Reaching up, he burrowed his hand beneath her shirt and bra, cupping her breasts. “Ah,” she sighed, abdominals contracting as she rocked harder into his intimate kiss.

Harper relished feeling almost as vital as before he was wounded. The past two weeks had been a devastating blow, but now it was time to re-engage in life.

Cat rocked harder against his tongue and she began to gasp, twitching. Harper shifted, easing two fingers inside her slick channel. Cat groaned hard as he began to move his hand and within just a couple of minutes she climaxed. As Harper looked up the line of her undulating body and tasted her decadent release on his tongue, he thanked his stars that she had come to Amarillo for him.

Barely giving her time to catch her breath, Harper gripped her hips and flipped her over. Dragging a pillow from the head of the bed he wedged it beneath her hips. Crawling up her body, heavy thighs outside of hers, Harper fisted himself to guide into her. Cat arched up as he slid deep and began to move.

“Oh, yeah,” she sighed, face turned to the side. “This is what I was waiting for.”

Harper surged harder, trying to be gentle, but there was something compelling him to claim her. Cat was already his wife, technically, but he wanted to reestablish his place in her life. And today was the first day he almost felt like himself.

She arched her hips even more and something about the angle of his cock and that heavy vein gliding over her pubic bone sent him over the edge. With a shout Harper came, losing himself in the feel of her body undulating beneath his.

Panting, muscles quivering, he let himself drop to the mattress beside her. Cat panted as well, but her eyes glittered with satisfaction as she smiled at him. Harper grinned back but couldn’t muster enough energy to do anything more than that. His eyes drifted shut and he didn’t even notice when he drifted off to sleep.

Cat watched Harper’s
face go slack.

Damn, he was gorgeous.

The skin around his right eye was a little inflamed, with a couple specks of blood where the stitches had been removed, but it would heal. Considering he’d been at death’s door a couple weeks ago he looked damn fine. His dark buzz cut needed a trim but she wasn’t going to remind him—she liked it a little longer. Maybe if she asked nicely he would let it grow a little more.

The beard was thickening as well, softening. She hadn’t even noticed it when he’d, well…her mind was on other things at the time.

Harper snuffled lightly in his sleep and she grinned at the sound. Definitely not that of a super-elite warrior.

He heaved out a breath, turning on his side. A frown crossed his face as though the movement pained him, then he relaxed again. The scars on his chest were more angry, flushed red. But they were like all the other injuries he’d gotten. They would fade with time.

She stretched, luxuriating in the aches from her body. For the first time in a long time she felt like part of a team again.

Cat slid out of bed and headed to the shower. There were things she needed to do before they left to pick up the kids tomorrow afternoon.

H
arper vacillated between
overjoyed to see his kids and terrified. And until they walked off the landing he didn’t know how he was going to react.

Tate saw him first and bolted toward him, Iron Man backpack falling from his fingers to the concourse floor, gap-toothed grin wide. Harper leaned down and caught his son as he slammed into him, lifting him into his arms. Then Tate’s strong little arms were unyielding in their strength as they wrapped around his neck. Harper absorbed the unbridled joy and returned it tenfold. “You’ve grown so much,” he whispered, amazed at what a man his child was turning into.

Both kids were beautiful. Tate looked a little wild after sleeping on the plane. Dark hair stood on end and his fair skin was flushed, but his burnished golden eyes, the same as his mother, shone with happiness. Dillon had the dark hair but had inherited his own gray eyes. And right now they were as cold and unyielding as he knew his own could be.

The girl stood cradled in her mother’s arms. There were tears in her wounded eyes but she refused to let them fall. Still carrying Tate Harper walked forward, one hand held out. But Dillon turned her face into Cat’s chest.

He tried not to be hurt at the rebuff, but he was. And she had every right to treat him that way. Time after time he had let her down. Hell, if he boiled everything down he’d basically been a sperm donor. Other people had been there to welcome her into the world, cheer her on for all her milestones. As he thought about everything he had missed nausea turned his stomach. They may never be able to recover.

Tate finally released his neck but refused to let go of his hand. After collecting the bags they headed for the Yukon, Tate jabbering a mile a minute. It seemed to Tate that all was forgiven. Or forgotten. Dad was back and all was well again. But even his enthusiasm began to wane in the face of Dillon’s icy reserve. At one point he leaned over, whispering to his sister. Harper glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Dillon shook her head, arms crossed over her narrow chest, then turned back to the window.

Harper had no idea what he needed to do. The only thing he did know was that it was going to take time.

Cat reached over to rest her hand on his thigh and he was struck with such a strong sense of nostalgia it almost made him wince. They had ridden together like this too many times to count. Without conscious thought he realized that everybody had taken the same seats they always did when they went somewhere as a family.

He had been the one to ruin it. If he had been better able to deal with the paranoia that had plagued him, if he had sought help sooner, things would definitely be different.

That guilt would be added to all the rest that he carried.

Cat tried desperately
to defuse the situation between Harper and Dillon but her daughter was being obstinate. She wouldn’t even look at her father.

Tate had ten million things to tell her about, from the rusted Matchbox car he found on the beach at Grandma’s house to the teacher at school that supposedly didn’t like him. “I’m sure you’re wrong,” Cat murmured. “Teachers have to like all kids. It’s in the job description.”

Tate gave her a squinty eyed look, trying to tell if she was lying or not, but Cat kept her face straight. Within a few seconds he was off on another tangent. Then he wanted food. Then he had to pee. At one point she looked over at Harper and laughed. Obviously he had forgotten what it was like to live with a little boy. He looked more tired than he had the past few days.

After a few stops and starts they made it down the road. They drove down the main strip of Cańon City.

“Mom, why do those signs say not to pick up hitchhikers?”

Cat glanced back at her daughter, debating what to tell her. “Well, there are a couple of prisons around here. There’s a big one just outside of town we’ll pass. They don’t want people picking up criminals.”

Even in the dimming evening light she could see Dillon’s eyes go wide, then she turned to look back out the window. She was probably trying to decide which of the many pedestrians out right now were bad people. Tate didn’t help matters when he pointed out a guy running across two lanes of traffic. “Oh, I bet he just robbed a store!”

Cat shook her head. “I think he’s just trying to cross the road, kiddo. Like a bunch of other people do every day.”

Tate looked a little disappointed but didn’t contradict her. When she looked to Harper for a little parental solidarity though, it was to find his brows furrowed. His gaze scanned the area, head moving back and forth as if he were scanning for terrorists. Cat got a worried feeling in her chest and she reached over to rest her hand on his thigh. Harper jerked as if he had forgotten where he was.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

He blinked, nodding. “Yeah. Lost myself a little there.”

“I could see that.”

He gave her a sheepish look. “I think I’m going to be hyper-aware now that the kids are here.”

“I had a feeling you would be. And I don’t mind it as long as it’s within reason. I love you, Harper. We can deal with anything.”

He stared at her for a long moment before jerking his attention back to the road. She thought she could see a shine of appreciation in his eyes though.

When they arrived at the house Tate was ready to explore but Cat put the kibosh on that. “We need to get you guys settled, then you need a bath before bed.”

“Aw, Mom,” he whined.

But she could see the tiredness in his eyes. Virginia was three hours ahead of Colorado so it was technically past their bedtime already. No, they didn’t have school the next day but she wanted to keep them on the schedule they were used to.

And in spite of his protests, as soon as Tate’s head hit the pillow his eyes began to droop. “I want Dad to tuck me in.”

Harper was more than happy to accommodate him. Settling to the edge of the mattress, Cat watched him run his palm over Tate’s dark hair. “You sleep good, buddy.”

“I will. Love you, Dad. Glad you’re back.”

Then he burrowed his head into the pillow and was out.

Harper sat next to him for another minute and Cat rested her hand on his broad shoulder. He covered her hand with his own, then drew it to his mouth for a kiss. Holding on to her fingers he led her out of the room.

Dillon was in the den curled into the chair Harper normally sat in, ear buds plugged into her iPad as she swiped. She glanced up when they entered the room but didn’t say anything, continuing to play. Or she at least pretended to. Cat noticed that her movements began to slow.

Cat and Harper sat on the couch and flicked on the TV. As Harper flipped channels she curled into his side, legs out beside her. She closed her eyes and rested her head in the crook of his arm. “I think I’m more tired now than I have been for the past two weeks.”

His heavy chest rumbled under her ear as he laughed. “I have a new appreciation for what you’ve had to do while I was gone. The kid just doesn’t stop.”

“Until he gets tired. Then he crashes hard. Kind of like somebody else I know.”