SEALed With a Kiss: Even a Hero Needs Help Sometimes... (46 page)

Nor could she deny that for him part of the appeal of the situation was its violent raw edge. Life was stripped to its essentials. The choices were about living or dying. He was alive, vibrant, magnificent. The molten light of the fire licked and burnished his skin with red and gold, delineating the sinews of his forearms, outlining the power of his thighs.

An icy hand gripped her heart, squeezed. He was even more different from her than she had allowed herself to know. He was alien. Not just her natural opposite in that he was a man. He was utterly
other.

Just when her mind would have rejected him, her heart broke free of its icy bond and expanded in a surge of warmth that rivaled that of the fire crackling slowly and inexorably closer. Hot, almost burning her chest, her throat, her eyes, it stole her breath, consuming everything in its path.

He was exactly as he was supposed to be, as perfect and as inevitable as a mountain. Changing him, even wishing him different, would be a sin against his soul and her own.

This was love. Knowing that the other person was
other,
and not some idealized reflection of herself—and finding that perfect.

Pickett swallowed and her head jerked in a short nod. "After I jump in the water. Then what will happen? What will you do?"

Jax's teeth flashed a teasing, sexy grin in the lurid light. He waggled his straight dark brows with comical innuendo. "The
breast
stroke."

For an infinite instant she cradled his cheek, relishing the tiny prickles of his beard. "Go," she whispered. "Get Tyler to safety."

"Don't move from this spot until you see me in the water."

Pickett looked over the rail at the black water shifting in the fire's glow. "Will I be able to see you?"

Jax looked a little chagrined. "I'm used to making sure I'm
not
seen. Give me your scarf." He quickly tied the long swath of silk around his head and faced her. "Will this work?"

His head was covered from the forehead back in silk pattered with flowers. The ends of the scarf streamed and fluttered in the wind. He should have looked silly; instead he looked like a merry pirate, swashbuckling, yet stern, the gaiety of the flowers somehow enhancing the implacability of his purpose. His masculinity sprang from some immutable essence that could not be diminished by femininity, only enhanced by it.

Pickett's heart leapt and swelled as in one of her intuitive flashes she saw what she and Jax had to give to one another. Rather than losing or sacrificing any part, by giving themselves in love, they would each become more perfect, more fully what they already were.

"Pickett, I asked you, will this work?"

The flowers of the scarf appeared almost black in the lurid light of the fire, but the white background glowed. As soon as she said yes he would leave her to face the fire, to face jumping by herself. She was just barely holding herself together with him by her side. What would happen when he was gone? Her jaw tightened against the up-rushing terror. She pulled in deep breaths, demanding her throat relax enough to get a word out. The most important thing was to get Tyler to safety. "Yes," she said.

Jax straightened and shifted Tyler to his hip. "Okay, big guy. We're going to swim just like we did in the sound, you remember? You're going to hold tight to my neck and I'm going to swim with you on my back."

"We're going to jump off?" Tyler started to struggle against Jax's encircling arms. "Uhn-uhn. Pickett's 'fraid to jump."

Pickett grasped the child's ankle to get his attention. "Not anymore. That was before." She fumbled for an explanation he would accept. "That was when I was little. I didn't have your daddy with me so I was afraid. But now I'm not. You said it was fun to swim like that with your daddy. You get to go first," she twinkled, "and then it will be my turn."

She was amazing. You'd think she was discussing a ride at a fair. Her shoulders were shaking in a telltale quiver but she found courage to give to Tyler. "Lady, you blow me away."
Please God, let her find the courage to
... he stopped the thought.

Swiftly he brought Tyler tight against his chest, stepped onto the bench and then the wide top of the rail. One-handed, he let himself down on the other side and slid carefully onto the pilings that jutted from the base of the pier. The further he could get from the pilings the better. Crusted with barnacles and trailing fishing hooks from a thousand casts that went awry, they were a formidable danger to unprotected flesh. Was Pickett watching? He didn't dare risk his balance to look back at the rail.

"Hold tight with your legs, Tyler. You might need to hold your breath a long time, but you can do that, can't you?" He could feel Tyler's nod against his chest. Skinny legs gripped his waist and sharp little fingers dug into his neck.

SEALs referred to people they were tasked to rescue as precious cargo.

This was his own precious cargo, his son, to be carried to safety but not to be relinquished ever. And that was
his
lady. His, by God.

He took a firmer grip on his precious cargo, placed one hand on top of the silky head, to counteract the buoyancy that could otherwise squirt Tyler out of his arms like a pea popped from a pod, and jumped.

Bubbles caressed and stoked him on all sides. Another time he would have relished the sensual delight of jumping into warm water without a hundred pounds or more of equipment. Another time he might have let himself relax and sink as far as he could through the caressing bubbles, content to let the ocean bring him to the surface in its own time.

Tonight he pulled up his knees to stop his descent then kicked for the surface almost as soon as the water closed over his head. The powerful muscles of his thighs propelled them to the surface.

They had only been under seconds but Jax knew an unreasonable measure of relief when he heard Tyler suck in a breath. The kid had been through so much tonight, enough to traumatize most adults. Jax wouldn't have chosen to make this his first experience of jumping into water. In the next moment he knew the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. The little boy shook water from his eyes, cleared his nose the way he had been shown, threw back his head, and crowed in delight. "Do it
again,
Daddy!"

With an enormous
whoosh,
flames shot up from a new section of the building. Pickett heard a loud electrical buzzing and popping and the pier went dark. People screamed. Seen only in its own light, the fire seemed larger and more menacing. From time to time burning chunks of pier fell into the water. The railing was eerily outlined by tongues of flame, and flames suddenly leapt up a lamppost.

Was the fire closer? Pickett couldn't tell. The wind blew smoke in front of it making it hard to see. Pickett leaned over the rail to watch the two heads so close together move toward the shore. There was only the light of the fire to see by now. Soon they were lost to sight in the thick pall of smoke. Pickett choked back a sob. They were all right. They had to be. Even if she couldn't see them, she reminded herself, Jax would keep Tyler safe. But she wished she could see him take the child to shore. Set him down. Give him to one of the people who was surely there by now. Was that the sound of fire trucks in the distance or was it wishful thinking? Maybe they would get here in time and she wouldn't have to jump.

She shouldn't think about that.
Don't think about jumping.
She hadn't been exaggerating to Jax. She really did almost flunk swimming because she wouldn't dive even from the lowest board. And strangely enough, for her, jumping off the side of the pool was just as bad. Honestly, she thought she passed because the teacher didn't want to have to deal with her again.

Don't think about how far away the water looks. Don't think about how much bigger the swells look from the height of the pier when you can see them from trough to trough.

Don't think about it.

Watch for Jax. In a few minutes he would have gotten Tyler to shore. In a few minutes he would turn around. In a few minutes she would be able to see his head through the smoke.

He actually thought she could do this. Pickett choked back a half-hysterical laugh.

Don't think about it.

She hoped everybody in the bait shop and lunch counter had gotten away. She offered up a prayer for their safety and the safety of all the people on the pier.

Oh dear God, help me. Just let me do everything Jax said and get it right.

But he didn't know what a hopeless klutz she was.

Oh, dear God, help me not to think about it.

The smoke was thicker now.

She could only see the water directly below and a little ways toward shore. Would she be able to see Jax? Yes, she would. He said
when you see me I'll be in the water.
That meant she
would see
him.

A man shouted high and panicky, "We gotta get out of here. We gotta jump!" A child wailed, there were murmurs and shouts, and several people climbed up on the rails.

Two young men—Marines, judging from their "white wall" haircuts—jumped to the rails. They disappeared and what felt like a long time later there were twin splashes and heads appeared.

Other people began to jump. Horrified, Pickett watched a young woman clutching what looked like a baby climb up on the rail. Before Pickett could reach the woman to tell her to wait, that Jax would help her, she leaped from the very tip of the fantail.