A SEAL's Vow (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 2) (15 page)

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Authors: Cora Seton

Tags: #Military, #Romance

BOOK: A SEAL's Vow (SEALs of Chance Creek Book 2)
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Not that they should be.

Clay crooked his arm, and she took it without thinking. They both seemed to realize simultaneously what they’d done. “Is this okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded. Why not? Touching him wasn’t hurting anyone, and she didn’t feel anxious. Maybe the paperweight incident was a one-off. Without another word, Clay began to amble along the bank of the creek. Full of food and mellow as the evening settled in, Nora took a moment to enjoy herself. She didn’t mean to lean against him as she walked, but his shoulder was right there, and with her arm linked through his it was difficult to keep her distance. Besides, it was kind of nice to feel the heft of his muscles under her hands. For the moment she felt… safe.

“It’s a beautiful setting,” she said when they made their way around a bend in the creek, but what she was feeling went far beyond the loveliness of their surroundings. Clay’s willingness to slow things down and just walk with her, rather than try to convince her to move their relationship along, meant a lot to her. As she relaxed, she realized how wound up she’d gotten in the past few days. Here she was with a Navy SEAL. Her stalker was just a teenager. Even if he had made his way out here to Montana, which was highly doubtful, he’d never attack her in Clay’s presence. And the broken glass… well, that was just a broken glass, wasn’t it? No one had been anywhere near the manor when they’d checked. She had to stop letting her imagination run away with her.

Some of the tension that had tightened her shoulders slipped away. She let her guard down and, with stolen glances, took in Clay’s handsome features. Rounding another bend in the creek, they moved out of Dell’s sight. Not that he was looking. The last she’d seen of him, Dell had stretched out full length on the blanket with his eyes shut.

She glanced over her shoulder, saw the cameras had lagged behind a little, and stopped. “Clay—”

“What?” Clay stopped, too. Waited for her to finish her sentence. “Nora, what is it?”

She found she didn’t want to talk. Instead, she wanted to let him know how she felt. She went up on tiptoe and kissed him before she could change her mind. She had a fleeting sensation of Clay’s hard muscles, his mouth soft on hers, the heat of his hands through the thin material of her dress when he shifted to take her into his arms.

She pulled back just as suddenly as she’d lurched forward.

“What was that for?” Clay didn’t pursue her.

“I… I don’t know.” How could she explain the turmoil inside her? She was too full of hopes and fears and confusion.

When it was clear she wouldn’t go on, he simply took her hand. “How about we keep walking?”

She went along with him, but now Nora’s thoughts were in turmoil. What had she done? She’d told him just this afternoon she wouldn’t do anything rashly, and now she was the one kissing him…

“Don’t overthink it,” Clay said gently. He gave her hand a squeeze.

Once again he’d made the perfect response. She relaxed again, appreciating the easy camaraderie she felt with Clay, the sense that she’d known him longer than she had.

But she couldn’t lead him on. She knew where this was going, after all.

“Clay, I can’t marry you.”

His stride hitched, but only for a second and then he kept going, although his pace sped up. Nora hurried to keep alongside him.

“You’re turning me down before I even ask you,” Clay pointed out.

Embarrassment made her reply tart. “You have to marry someone in less than forty days.”

“I didn’t ask for that deadline, you know.”

“You didn’t have to accept it.”

“Yes, I did.”

His response irked Nora. Wasn’t it hubris to think one person could make a real difference in the world? “Do you really think you can change anything with a television show?” The bank of the creek was narrow here between the woods on one side and the water on the other. In order to stay side-by-side, they had to walk close together. Clay seemed too big, suddenly. He was all muscles and shoulders and overconfidence.

“Actually, I think you can change a lot with a television show. I hope people become familiar with a lot of terms they don’t know. I hope they see us using equipment that isn’t in their homes today, and they become less afraid of it. I’d like the idea of paring back a little and choosing possessions more consciously to become part of the American mind-set.”

“And you’re willing to marry to make that happen.”

“Yes.”

His utter certainty made Nora curious despite herself. What had happened to Clay that made him so determined to pursue this course?

“Let’s keep moving,” he said before she could question him, with a backward glance toward the camera crew that was closely following them again. He led her onward. “So this job. What’s it all about?”

Nora decided to accept the change in topic. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to bare his soul in front of the cameras, after all. “I hardly know. Some kind of curriculum about Walker’s clan for seventh graders.”

“If it’s for middle schoolers, it should be a walk in the park.”

“Nothing about teaching is a walk in the park,” Nora said tartly. “Especially not concerning a subject so sensitive. For years, Native Americans were all classed as bad guys—and as too primitive to build societies whose cultures were worth preserving. So much damage has come from that legacy—it’ll take hard work to turn it around. It’s a big honor for someone like me to be asked to be a small part of it.” When he raised an eyebrow, she clarified. “Someone white. I’ve got to go in there knowing it’s Walker’s grandmother who needs to take the lead. I can help with organization and ideas, but Crow culture isn’t mine to define.” She realized she was lecturing him. “I know it seems like a simple thing to draw up a unit on Crow history, but what we teach our children about the past tends to define their futures, you know?”

“That makes sense. I didn’t mean to downplay what you do.”

“Most people couldn’t care less about any of it.”

“I’m not most people.”

They walked in silence for a minute and Nora tried to recapture her equilibrium. Nothing was going right today, and she wanted to enjoy this time with Clay. Who knew how much longer she’d have with him?

Despite the delicious smell of the pine trees, the sound of the running water in the creek beside them and the last rays of sunlight streaming through the branches overhead, all the light went out of the day when Nora thought about a future without Clay. It frustrated her to know that even though she hadn’t been looking for a man when she’d come here, she’d left her heart open to an entanglement. He would be hard to get over, and she was sick of feeling battered and bruised, even if only mentally.

“You’re right, you know. I have to marry in a short period of time, and that’s not ideal,” Clay said suddenly. “Here’s the thing. I like you. I’m attracted to you. I’d be a fool not to try to see if you’re the one for me.” When Nora tried to let go of his hand again, he stopped and grasped her other hand, too, so that she had to face him. “So we’ve got until July to figure this out and plan our wedding.”

“Clay—”

“What would it take for that to be okay for you?”

“There isn’t—”

“There has to be a way. Tell me.”

As fierce as his determination was, it didn’t intimidate Nora. His desire was clean and straightforward—nothing like her stalker’s twisted need to hurt. Was there a way to bridge the gulf between them? Suddenly Nora wanted to try.

“I’d have to know you,” she said in a rush. “That’s not possible, though.”

Clay chuckled. “Oh, yes, it is. Try going on a mission with a guy into enemy territory, living with him 24/7 while knowing you’re a split-second away from death. You figure out who they are real quick.” He cocked his head. “Maybe that’s what we need. A shared mission.”

“There’s no enemy territory in Chance Creek.” And she’d rather not face someone who was trying to kill her. Just thinking of the situations Clay must have experienced made her shiver.

“There are other kinds of missions.”

“And what—you’re going to make one up?”

“Nah. Not me. Boone’s the chief around here.” Clay grinned and her heart did a little flip. That smile undid her in so many ways. “He’s good at finding missions, too. You’d better hold on to your socks, baby girl. Shit’s about to get real.”

Nora rolled her eyes and turned around. “Settle down there, sailor. You’d better take me back.”

Chapter Twelve


H
e hadn’t made
much progress he could document, but Clay felt like he’d taken a giant step forward with Nora during his walk. He’d broached the topic of marriage—the elephant in the room. Now she knew he considered her a candidate, and she knew he meant to pursue her. And he’d come up with a brilliant idea. They needed a common goal—a challenge they could share. He was sure Boone could think of something. As they walked back toward the picnic site, he didn’t force the conversation. Instead he enjoyed the waning daylight, the peaceful scene and the timeless feeling of the moment.

Then the cameraman in front of him tripped.

“Fuck!”

Byron landed hard on his ass and nearly pitched his video camera into Pittance Creek. Clay leaped to grab it and offered a hand to the young man.

“Thanks.” Byron got up gingerly and rubbed his lower back. “Damn tree roots.”

The ground was smooth as far as Clay could see, but he’d let the kid have his dignity. “You all right?” he asked as he handed back the camera.

“Yeah.” Byron looked over his shoulder. “You better not be filming this,” he said to Craig.

Craig chuckled. “Of course I’m filming this. It’ll go on the bloopers reel.”

“Turn it off.” Byron pushed past Clay to confront Craig. “I said, turn it off.”

“No way.”

Clay moved back to stand by Nora. They exchanged an amused look while the two men were arguing. When she held his gaze, he lifted a brow. She nodded imperceptibly, and he bent down slowly enough to give her a chance to pull away. When Nora held her ground, he kissed her. At first she held still, as if braced to flee, but then she softened and the kiss became real. He cupped the back of her neck and savored the taste of her, running his tongue over the curve of her lips and moving closer when she let him in.

A moment later, Nora pulled back. “Behave,” she said quietly in what he supposed was her schoolmarm voice. It was a sexy voice, and it had the opposite effect than the one she was probably hoping for.

“I don’t want to.” He leaned in for another one.

She didn’t stop him, so he slid an arm around her waist. She felt so good in his arms he didn’t care if they were being filmed. Nora didn’t protest, so he took his time and enjoyed himself, until the sudden quiet told him the cameramen had spotted them.

He broke away from Nora reluctantly. “To be continued later.”

“Maybe.” But she smiled and his heart lifted.

His mind went back to the puzzle she’d presented him. How could they get to know each other quickly enough to make up their minds about marrying?

It all came down to time, he decided. He was going to spend every moment he could with Nora.

“Talk about sex,”
Renata said, surveying Nora and the other women as they sat at the kitchen table in the manor the next morning, ostensibly to come up with a full proposal for their next B and B guests. “You girls are alone, the talk gets racy, you swap stories. You know the drill.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Nora said. She definitely didn’t intend to take part in some kind of girls gone wild scenario.

“I never kid,” Renata shot back. “Start rolling. I’ll be back later to check on things.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room after she’d left. Byron, the youngest cameraman, had taken up a position on one side of the room, and Craig had positioned himself on the other side. A third man held a boom over their heads, and several other people waited in the wings to help out where needed.

“Tell us more about your honeymoon, Riley,” Avery said in a strained voice.

Riley made a face. “I already told you everything—”

Craig made a rolling motion with his hands—a kind of
start talking
gesture. Riley gave in with a sigh. “It was… wonderful,” she said.

“That’s what you said last time. We want details.” Her tone expressionless, Avery fiddled with the pen and paper she’d brought to the table. A pitcher of lemonade sat sweating nearby. Nora took a sip from her glass, savoring the tartness of the drink.

Riley glared at Avery in exasperation, but then, with a sidelong look at Byron, she dropped a hand to her belly and spoke with an exaggerated Western drawl. “Let’s just say if I’m not pregnant, it’s not for lack of trying. That cowboy really put me through my paces.”

Savannah choked on the sip she had just taken. “TMI! We’re being filmed,” she hissed.

But something had gotten into Riley, and she continued. “We went at it morning, noon and night.”

“Was it romantic?” Avery played along with a grin.

“It was… exhausting. I don’t know what got into Boone. I slept through some of it, I think. He just kept on going.” Riley waved a hand expressively.

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