A Sexy SEAL Novella Anthology (18 page)

“We’re fine.” He slid his hand out from
under hers with an easy pat, then stood. “But it is almost time for
the toast and I should check to see that Bryanna’s ready. You know
how my father gets about punctuality.”

“Russell.” She grabbed his arm before he
could turn away, searching his face with worried eyes. “Are we
okay?”

“We’re fine. Nothing’s changed, Gwen. We’re
friends. We’re colleagues. We’re good.”

Then why did she feel like crying?

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,”
he said quietly as he leaned down to brush a soft kiss over her
cheek. “And when you do, I hope it only brings you happiness. Not
heartache.”

And with that, he was gone.

Leaving her alone in a swirling onslaught of
emotions.

Gwen didn’t have to search the ballroom to
find Noah. She knew exactly where he was, there at the bar standing
between his brother and Bryanna’s dad. The three of them looked so
official in their Navy uniforms. Official enough to put another
tiny crack in Gwen’s heart.

Because Noah looked so right.

Not just sexy. The man always looked
sexy.

It wasn’t just the fact that he was handsome
as hell in his fancy uniform with it’s fitted jacket that showed
off that fine ass. She wasn’t so easy that she got turned on just
because a man wore a uniform well. And when it came to Noah, she
figured she had plenty of reason to actually resent that
uniform—and what it represented.

But she couldn’t.

Because, heartbreak aside, she loved
him.

Not again, but still.

She’d simply never stopped.

A year or so back, Noah and two of his
teammates had been trapped three hundred feet under the surface of
the ocean when a trip-wired bridge went down on top of him. Before
that, he’d have thought seeing the resigned acceptance of death on
his friends’ faces, knowing it was on his own, was the worst thing
he’d go through.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

One elbow propped on the bar, he wished he
had something stronger than a beer. Unless he went for froufrou
wine, he wasn’t getting it, though. Commander Spencer might be
retired, but the man ran a tight ship. Men in uniform, soft liquor
served and big band music for the dance floor. That the guy was
practically bursting with pride over his daughter’s engagement was
cool. But that he kept expressing that pride by pounding an
enthusiastic fist on Noah’s shoulder was getting old.

So was standing here, waiting for Gwen to
announce that she was engaged to Spencer’s second son. That the
announcement was coming, he had no doubt. He’d seen her and Russell
come in together, arm in arm in that classy way that suited them
both. He’d seen Russ tuck her away in a private corner on the
opposite side of the room, then grab a couple of glasses of
champagne.

And any minute now, he’d see the man come
back with a satisfied smile on his face and a spring in his
step.

And announce to the gathering of family and
friends that he was marrying Gwen.

He was marrying Noah’s woman.

A miserable sort of fury churning in his
belly, Noah set his half-empty bottle on the bar and
straightened.

“Your toast is in a few minutes. You want
another beer before you have to perform?” Spencer offered with a
generous wave of his meaty hand toward the bartender.

“My what?”

“Toast. You know, your talk. You get up and
say stuff about how perfect my Bry is for Sam. That they’ll be
happy together and all that.” Spencer narrowed his eyes. “You’re
Sammy’s best man, aren’t you?”

He was?

Oh yeah, Noah pulled a face. He’d forgotten
that Sam had asked. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he
recalled his mother rambling on about wedding party
responsibilities, but he’d figured she meant things like not
getting drunk and fighting with the guests.

“A toast, huh?”

“More like a speech, with everyone lifting
their glass at the end,” Spencer advised, thumping Noah with one
beefy hand and almost putting him face-down on the bar. Whether
intended to be or not, Noah took that as a warning of things to
come if he didn’t get his speech right.

With that in mind, he straightened to his
full six-feet, shook off the tingling in his shoulder and searched
the room.

“Where ya going?”

“To find Sam.” And have a little chat with
his brother about getting him out of this.

“Toast is in five minutes.” The words had an
extra urgency behind them, as if Spencer could read his mind.

Glad to be out of thumping reach, Noah kept
moving.

“After I find Sam.”

But finding Sam didn’t help.

Five minutes and thirty seconds later—can’t
say Spencer wasn’t punctual—Noah stood as rigid as a statue on a
raised platform at the front of the ballroom. He stood to his
brother’s left because no matter how much Noah had threatened, Sam
refused to pick a different best man.

Sam held hands with a beaming Bryanna, her
dress a glimmering blue to match her eyes and her smile bright
enough to light the Golden Gate. Sure he was about to dim that
light, Noah avoided looking at her.

He didn’t look left, either.

He didn’t need to. He could hear Spencer
just fine as the Captain boomed out his pleasure in the same tone
Noah imagined he’d barked orders on a ship. Loud and gruff. On his
other side was Russell, looing awfully morose for a guy who was
rumored to be getting engaged.

Noah’s eyes swept the room.

Where was Gwen? Russ had already been here
with his father when he and Sam reached the toasting stage. But
when Noah shifted to see if she was out on the balcony, Spencer
elbowed him back into place.

So, trapped on the right and the left, Noah
stood, at silent attention. Eyes ahead, shoulders back, chin
high.

And took stock of this little fiasco.

Instead of winning back the only woman he
wanted, he’d pissed her off, tying off the finish of their
relationship in a neat bow. He’d busted his ass to be at an event
that would end in a round of humiliation in the form of public
speaking. And then, because he wasn’t putting a lot of stock in
Russell’s bummed out expression, the evening would likely end with
Gwen announcing she was marrying someone else.

Noah’s gut clenched.

Damn, that was going to hurt to hear.

He wished like hell he’d never finagled
leave. He wished he were still in Kabul, where the most painful
thing coming his way was an IED.

As if mocking that wish, a movement on the
far end of the ballroom caught his eye. Gwen stepped into his line
of sight. Her silver dress shone blue, reflecting the carpet as she
moved closer. Even at ninety-feet, he could see the worry creasing
her expression.

What was she worried about? Noah tried to
angle again to check out Russell’s expression, but Spencer was
reaching his crescendo.

“I’ll be glad to welcome Sam Morelli to my
family,” Spencer’s words caught his attention just in time for Noah
to lean back and avoid being clipped in the chin when the big man
gestured. “A fine young man from good family.”

Noah pulled his eyes off of Gwen when the
old guy started reciting the military service of anyone who’d
served in their family. By the time Spencer was reeling off
third-cousins-twice-removed and their role in the Great War, Noah
could only shoot Sam an incredulous look

Seriously
?

But his gaze was back on Gwen before his
brother finished rolling his eyes.

She’d reached the edge of the dance floor
and seemed to hesitate. The light played off her silver dress,
sequins shooting sparks back toward the chandeliers as Gwen swayed
this way then that. Stay or go, he knew she was debating. She
tended to hide when she was upset, to burrow away until she was
ready to face people.

Noah frowned, his gut clenched tight.

Had he done that? Ruined her evening that
much?

The same way he’d ruined things three years
ago?

He expected her to go.

But instead of sailing toward the exit, she
moved through the crowd of celebrants toward the front of the
ballroom.

And made Noah wonder why.

“Let’s all put our hands together to thank
the people who are standing with Bryanna and Sam.” Able to gauge
the man now, Noah automatically leaned back just before Spencer’s
arm arced his way. “Tansy Berk and Noah Morelli.”

Obviously a believer in ladies first,
Spencer gestured to the woman on the other side of Bryanna to step
up to the microphone that he hadn’t needed. Noah almost grinned
when he heard the sigh come through, loud and clear, when Tansy
took her place.

As the slick brunette told a funny story
about the couple, Noah remembered that her sister had been just as
amusing. But Eli had walked away from Macy, choosing duty over
love. Because they’d trained together, planned together, schemed
together, he’d expected every guy in their Sea Cadet unit who’d
taken the vow to do the same.

Stupidly, blindly, disastrously, Noah
had.

But Sam hadn’t.

“To a couple that deserves every taste of
happiness that life can dish up,” Tansy said, her voice rising as
she lifted the glass the hovering waiter handed her. “Bryanna and
Sam. To their life together.”

Noah took a glass of his own, lifting it
high even as his gaze sought Gwen’s. He frowned when he saw that
she’d moved even closer. Now she was right there, less than ten
feet away. Close enough to be brought up on the platform when
Russell got his hands on the mic.

“Here’s a speech from the best man. Ladies
and gentlemen, Petty Officer Noah Morelli with a few words of
wisdom for the happy couple.”

Wisdom? Seriously?

He knew there was probably an irony in that,
but he didn’t have time to find it. Not when Spencer was glowering
at him from his four-inch and fifty pound advantage.

Ignoring the mic since it’d only hammer home
that he was talking in front of a couple hundred people, Noah
stepped forward. For a second, he looked at the glass of champagne
in his hands, then looked at his brother.

He only had to clear his throat once, but
thankfully after he did the words were there.

“A wise man recently told me that we all
have our strengths, just as we all have our weaknesses. The trick
is knowing which is which.” A wave of laughter rolled through the
crowd as Sam grinned at having his words thrown back at him. “A guy
smart enough to know that is smart enough to make the right choices
in life.”

His gaze shifted toward Gwen, standing there
just out of reach with a polite expression on her pretty face.

“It’s our choices that make us who we are,”
Noah said slowly, his eyes roaming her face.

Then, remembering why he was babbling
emotionally in front of the crowd, he cleared his throat and looked
back to his brother.

“To Sam,” he said. “A man who’s made a great
choice in wanting to spend his life with Bryanna. Because she makes
him want to be a stronger man.”

Surprise and gratitude flashed in Sam’s
eyes, then he nodded.

“And to Bryanna.” Noah’s gaze shifted to the
pretty blonde. “Who is strong enough to love a SEAL. To me, there’s
no stronger woman than that. Together, you’ll be happy because
you’ll refuse to accept anything less.”

Ready to be done, Noah lifted his glass in
the air so fast he almost had a champagne shower. As soon as Sam
lifted his in return, Noah knocked back a deep swallow, then,
denying his urge to jump off the platform, returned to his position
next to his brother.

And waited to escape.

Five minutes later, he was seriously
reconsidering running. Not satisfied with just the wedding party
toasting happy couple, Spencer had called up reinforcements.

“You’re got to be kidding,” Noah murmured to
his brother when the old man had stepped off the platform to get
more champagne

“You don’t have to stay up here,” Bryanna
said, leaning around Sam with a sympathetic smile. She stood on
tiptoe to look past his shoulder, then winked. “Go ahead, go. Dad
will be distracted browbeating the caterer for another minute at
least.”

Noah followed her gaze and figured she’d
probably overestimated the escape window by a half.

“Cover me,” he told his brother as he turned
to go.

“You’re not leaving the hotel, are you?
You’re just getting out of the spotlight, right?”

Damn.

Noah’s feet froze.

Since he
was
going to take off, he
turned back around to give Sam a one-armed hug and a slap on the
back.

“Congratulations, man,” he said before
turning to Bryanna. Her hug was gentler and he skipped the
backslap. Instead, he brushed a kiss over her cheek before meeting
her surprised eyes.

“Take care of him.”

“Noah—”

“Gotta go,” he said, interrupting Sam and
jumping off the platform at the same time. Because he had to get
the hell out of here before this blessed reprieve was over.

He angled toward the exit, but before he’d
taken three steps he saw his mother crying into some lacy piece of
fabric. She was surrounded by a multitude of women doing the same,
all of whom were related to him in some way and none of whom would
hesitate to cut off his escape.

He checked the other exit and saw the path
lined with more relatives.

So he turned on one heel, did an about face,
and headed for the balcony.

He wasn’t hiding.

Just staying out of the way until he could
leave.

Because if he stayed, he’d make another play
for Gwen.

But he knew, even though it went against
every instinct, every reflex, that he should simply walk away
without a fight.

Gwen deserved that much from him.

If it were just him, he’d take it to the
limits. He’d do whatever it took to get her back, to keep her as
his and his alone. But this wasn’t about what he wanted. He’d
realized that when he was up with Sam and Bryanna.