Kincade's Rose (Megalodon Team) (15 page)

At a snail’s pace, Jayde reached out and
stroked his hair.  It was filthy, and yet it felt so good to her.  Just to be
able to touch him once again.  Her other hand gently traced the side of his
face, its fingers moving along his scruffy beard.

“Well, Mr. Kincade,” she spoke softly. 
“This certainly has been an adventure I will never forget.  Thank you for
getting me through it safely.  I will never forget you.”  Jayde leaned over and
kissed his forehead.

“Carrie,” his raspy voice said.

Jayde started at that.  Was he waking up? 
Then it dawned on her that he’d asked for Carrie.  It was as if her heart had
been ripped out of her chest with that one name.  Her dark eyes welled up with
tears as the curtain moved to admit Scott.

“We need to get going.  The COD is ready to
leave,” Scott said in a gentle voice.

Jayde wiped away tears and nodded. 
Like
I know what in the hell a COD is!

“Carrie, please,” Tyson mumbled one more
time.

Scott looked between the man lying on the bed
and Jayde standing next to him.  “He is not sure of what he is saying,” Scott
tried, reaching out a hand to her in comfort.

She dodged him.  “Don’t Scott.  Please.  I
am sure he knows exactly what he is saying.”  Jayde struggled to remove the
titanium band from her finger. Finally it was off and she placed it on Tyson’s
pinkie finger.  “He is asking for her.  Let’s just go.”  A glance down at her
finger showed a tan line from the week she’d been a wife.  It seemed so naked.

Jayde reached out for Tyson one more time
before stopping herself.  “Goodbye, Tyson Randolph Kincade,” she said before
she turned and left.

As she was buckled in for the ride back to
the United States, Jayde noticed Scott and the other members of the Megalodon
Team standing there on the flight deck.  All of them saluted her and she waved
as the door was slammed shut and the chopper lifted into the sky.

Four months later in Seattle, Washington

The damn phone was ringing off the hook. 
Jayde ran for it, spilling paint all over the tarp she’d placed on the floor. 
“Shit,” she swore as she jumped the last can and jerked the phone up.  “Hello?”
she yelled over Nelly’s music that blared throughout her apartment.

A deep voice came through the receiver and
nearly brought her to her knees.  “Jayde?”  She couldn’t respond and so the
voice spoke again.  “Jayde?  Are you there?”

Tyson.  After all this time.  And he
sounded good; in fact, he sounded delicious.  “Yes,” she croaked only to clear
her throat and try again.  “Yes, I’m here.”

“Do you know who this is?” that sinful
voice asked.

“I believe so.”  Like she could ever forget
the raw sexual desire his voice stirred in her.  There was loud noise in the
background.  Music and people shouting back and forth, it sounded almost like he
was in a bar.  “What do you want, Tyson?”

“To talk.  I’m in town. Can you meet me for
dinner somewhere?  Or I could bring something to your place,” Tyson answered.

Please come here and make love to me.
 
“Actually I am really busy today and I have a dinner function this evening. 
Maybe some other time?”  She just wasn’t strong enough to face him and hear him
tell her about Carrie. 
What is he doing in Seattle?  There isn’t a base
here.

“

Tyson knew she was deliberately avoiding
him.  He also knew she hadn’t touched the money he’d sent to her account.

When he’d finally regained consciousness,
Tyson had been at Bethesda Naval Hospital.  He’d been severely dehydrated and
mildly poisoned by the bullet in his shoulder. The doctor had told him whoever
had taken the bullet out had saved his life.

Yes, she had.
  Tyson had waited
anxiously for Jayde to visit him.  That had never happened.  Carrie had, his
teammates had, but not Jayde, never Jayde.  He’d also told the counterterrorism
unit’s representative about the rebel camp he had found and she’d said they
would take care of it.

The day he’d checked out the hospital,
Scott had taken him back to his studio in Georgetown.  Tyson had been packing
his things and opened the top drawer. The ring he’d placed on her finger in Belize…lay
inside.

“She heard you call for Carrie, you know,”
Scott had told him as he’d lovingly and painfully put the ring in his duffel
bag.

“I don’t want, Carrie,” Tyson had said
without looking up.  “I just want my wife back.”

“Let’s get you home, Cade.  Come on.”

Once again a full-fledged member of SEAL
Team Seventeen, Tyson had returned to missions, and doing what he loved.  But
the men would notice him staring off into space during down times or looking at
the ring he wore around his neck, which matched the one he still wore on his
finger when the situation would allow him to wear it.

Now they were docked in Bremerton, WA on
one of the submarines stationed there. Tyson took the hour ferry ride to
Seattle and called her from a bar along the waterfront, not passing up the
opportunity to see her after all these months.  He knew exactly where her
apartment was but wanted her to invite him.  But now that he heard her evasion
tactics, he didn’t care.  He was going to see her. Today.

“

Jayde stared at the phone in her hand.  Her
whole body felt like it was on pins and needles just from that short
conversation.  It took a bit before the pounding beat of Nelly broke through
her trance.

An hour later, she was rinsing out the
paint roller in her sink.  The last wall had been painted, and the place was
finally beginning to feel like home.  As she set the brushes and rollers in the
other sink to dry she heard a knock on the door.

“Coming,” she yelled over the music.  Jayde
stopped to pick up her paint rag and dried her hands as she headed for the
door.  She didn’t look through the peephole because she was expecting a
package.

She opened the door widely and froze. 
Instead of the delivery man, there stood Tyson Randolph Kincade.  He leaned
nonchalantly on the doorframe and in his hand was a bag with rich aromas coming
from it.

He looked awesome.  His face was once again
clean shaven and his skin was tanned just like she remembered it; only now, his
hair was cut short, highlighting his facial features.  Hazel eyes sparkled with
amusement and more than a bit of passion.  “Hello, Jayde,” he murmured
seductively as he pushed his way into the apartment.  “I brought you some food
since you are apparently too busy to eat with me.”

Jayde watched him walked over to her kitchen
table and set the bag down on it.  He wore a pair of blue jeans, hiking boots,
and a white T-shirt that accentuated his tanned skin and lean muscles.  His
clothing highlighted every beautiful inch of his body.

As if oblivious to her shock, he rummaged
through her kitchen and found plates and silverware, then transferred the food
to the dishes and gestured her over.  “Jayde, come eat.”  He pulled out a chair
and waited for her to take it.

Slowly, she walked towards him, stopping to
pick up the remote for the stereo and turned down the music so it was just a
faint hum.  “What are you doing here?” she asked and slid into the chair. 
Why
am I reacting this way to you?  You wanted Carrie!

“I said we needed to talk.”  He pushed her
chair in
.

“And I said I was busy today,” she
countered, her dark eyes following him around the table to the other side where
he sat.

“Well, I am not in town for very long,” he
said, then winced.

“I see,” Jayde responded in an insipid
tone. 
Either Carrie or another mission
.  Jayde was determined not to
appear interested.

“How are you doing?” he questioned as he
dug into his steak.

“Good.  I really like it here.  I work with
an art dealer in a gallery and have started to sell some of my paintings.”  She
cut her grilled salmon.  “Salmon, you remembered what I ate.”

“I remember everything about you, my little
rose.”  His eyes darkened possessively for a moment.

Jayde had to swallow a few times before she
could speak to him.  “You seem to have recovered well.  How are you doing?”

“Physically, I am doing well.  Healed up. 
The doc said you did an awesome job of removing the bullet,” Tyson said,
gratefully.

Physically?  What did that mean?
 
“Glad you are doing well,” Jayde admitted honestly.

“Why didn’t you contact me?” he asked as he
ate some asparagus.

“What for?  Why would I contact you?”  At
his raised eyebrows she added, “I wasn’t pregnant so there was no reason to.” 
She paused, deliberately ignoring the storm clouds brewing in his eyes.  “But
since you are here, thanks for getting this place for me.  I really love it.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘no reason to’? 
Were you even curious about how I was doing?” He stopped eating and waited for
her answer.

He was hurt.  Jayde saw that now.  “Of
course I was!  Tyson, you had just about lost your life to save mine; why
wouldn’t I be curious about how you were doing?”

“I never saw you there at the hospital.” 
His eyes challenged her.

“I’ll admit I didn’t go.  But,” she said as
he leaned back and crossed his strong arms across his chest, “when I last saw
you on the carrier, before they put me in the COD…you were calling out for
Carrie.”  Shock and disbelief passed over his face.  “I figured if you did want
someone there, it would be her.”

Tyson shook his head in denial, but she
continued on.  “I heard you and Scott that day in the safe house…when y’all
thought I was in the shower.  I was listening at the door.  You remember, don’t
you?”

At first confusion filled his features,
then dawning realization. “Yes, I remember.  I can explain that—”

“That’s the thing, Tyson…you don’t owe me
any explanations.”  Jayde cut another piece of salmon.  She put the fish in her
mouth and chewed slowly so she didn’t have to talk.
Dear Lord, why didn’t
anyone say love was this painful?

“Yes, I do.”  Tyson took a drink of the
wine they were having with their meal.  “We are still married.”

Jayde had been in the process of putting
another bite in her mouth when he’d said that, causing her to pull it away and
set it on the plate.  Her eyes were wide as she looked at him.  “What are you
talking about?” Jayde asked in shock.

“We,” he began and moved one lean finger
between them, “we are still married.”

Her face began to lose its color.  “No…no,
we can’t be married.  That was a sham wedding.”  Tyson stared at her solemnly. 
“Wasn’t it?” Jayde asked, her voice rising an octave.

“No.  It was real and legal.”  He put his
left hand across the table and Jayde saw the ring was still on his finger.

“No, it wasn’t even in the States!” She was
rambling and didn’t care because she knew it didn’t matter if it was in the
United States or not.

“It’s real.”  Tyson reached around his neck
and pulled off the chain he wore.  Opening the clasp, he removed a band from it
and went to where Jayde sat dumbfounded. With the utmost care he picked up her
left hand and easily slid the ring back on her finger.  “This is where it
belongs.”

Funny, when he slipped the ring back on her
finger, Jayde felt a sense of peace that had been missing ever since she’d
taken it off.  “Where did you get these rings?” she asked, truly curious.

“From an old sangoma in Africa.”  Tyson
nodded at her look of disbelief.  “No, really.  We came to his village and
saved them from the rebels; afterwards, I was in his hut and he gave them to me
and said, ‘Keep them with you and the woman you are meant to be with will find
you. .The rings will save you and bind the two of you together for all
eternity.’” Tyson cupped her face in his hand, “And when this ring is on your
finger, Jayde, it’s right. I know it is. I feel it. We are supposed to be
together, for eternity.”

“I can’t be married,” she muttered, unsure
of what else to say, for his words affected her more than she thought they
would.

Tyson tipped her face up to meet his gaze. 
“Why not?”  His brows furrowed.  “Are you seeing someone?” His tone dropped one
hundred degrees in a matter of seconds.

Jayde was so shocked by his question that
she couldn’t answer.  Tyson clearly misunderstood her hesitation. “Well, I’m
afraid I am going to have to insist you stop seeing him.”

She shook her head.  “I am not seeing
anyone.  I just…I just…I…I just need some time.”  Her hands ran over her face. 
“This is not Belize, Tyson, my family is…well…they just are.  I don’t know if
I—”

“Have you stopped loving me?”

“No.” Jayde surprised herself with the
quickness of her answer.

Before Tyson could say anything to that
they heard a loud beeping.  “Shit,” he swore as he looked down to his right
side.  His pager was going off.  He read what it said and his face immediately
became serious.

“Look Jayde—”

“I know.  You have to go.  So go.”  Jayde
didn’t want to be this hurt by his sudden appearance and then disappearance.

“We still need to talk about the fact we
are married,” Tyson said even as he headed to the door.

Jayde followed him.  “No, we don’t.  I will
start on the paperwork.  I hope I didn’t keep you from marrying Carrie.  I
really just thought it was a ruse.”  She held the door open and waited for him
to leave.

Tyson spun around so fast she stumbled back
a step.  “No!”  His hand grabbed hers with the ring.  “I don’t want a divorce. 
I want to give this a chance, Jayde.  Please.  Just give it…give us a chance. 
I will come here when we get back.”

“Don’t you mean ‘if’ you get back?”  Jayde
snapped, defiantly.

“No, my little rose, I mean when.”  He
kissed her ringed finger, his eyes never leaving hers.  “Don’t give up on us
when we haven’t even had a chance yet.”  Tyson let go of her hand only to haul
her paint-smelling body up to his and plant a kiss on her so intense it made
her toes curl and her eyes roll back into her head.

When Tyson removed his mouth from hers, she
was putty in his arms.  “I love you, Jayde Kincade.”  One more kiss and he was
gone, leaving her alone in her doorway with swollen lips, a wedding ring, and a
hell of a lot to think about.

To her combined pleasure and dismay, Jayde
spent the next hour daydreaming about really being Mrs. Tyson Kincade.  She’d
just hit their silver anniversary when her phone rang.  On the other end was
her eldest brother.

“What do you want, Ron?”  For once in her
life, Jayde just didn’t feel up to playing her family’s games. Her mind and
body were exhausted from seeing Tyson again.

“You need to come home.”

“Why?”  Jayde even turned up her music.

“Turn that stuff down!” her brother
ordered.

“No.  I like it and its mine!” she
snapped.  “Why do I need to come home?”

“Kinden’s ill,” Ron said.

“What’s wrong with her?”  Jayde put the
right amount of concern in her voice.  Her eldest sister, Kinden Alice
Porter-Grant, and she had never gotten along.  Their relationship had consisted
of Kinden ordering and Jayde doing.  Regardless, Jayde did love her sister,
just didn’t like her.  Kinden was a drama queen; if she had the sniffles, she
wouldn’t go outside for ‘fear she’d get worse’.  Kinden being ill could mean a
migraine.

“She had an accident and now needs in-home
care until she gets back on her feet,” Ron paused, as if waiting to hear Jayde
say she was on the first flight out.

“Okay.”  Jayde said, immediately sorry for
what had happened to her sister, not knowing what kind of accident since her
brother seemed disinclined to tell her, “But I don’t understand why I have to
come home.”