Always a Warrior(63)

* * * *



A few days later, after a shower and a fresh uniform, Damien strode into SEAL

headquarters. He wanted a solid twenty-four hours of sleep but he first had to answer Captain Nolan’s summons. He rapped sharply on the door then, without waiting for permission, walked into the office.



Perusing an open file, Nolan motioned Damien to a chair. He closed the file, pulled some printed forms out of a drawer, and shoved them across the desk.



“It’s that time again, McAllister.” Nolan leaned back in his chair, hands linked casually behind his head. “Your second enlistment is up in thirty days.” He grinned. “You know the drill.

We need your skills and qualifications. Nobody makes computers dance the way you do. Yada, yada, yada.”



With a careless shrug, Damien scanned the forms. The pertinent information was accurate. He snatched a pen off the desk and touched the tip to the signature line. Visions of Laurie and Stacy swam in his head, a stream of memories that hit him with the force of a bullet.

He hesitated. Re-enlist and stay with the only life he knew? Or was it possible, at this late stage, to find what he had lost once before? Could he change his life? Did he want to? Could he succeed with Laurie? He stared indecisively at the forms and finally put the pen down.

“Problem,

Damien?”

ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

92



He snapped his gaze to Nolan. Nolan only used first names when he intended to get personal. But Carl Nolan cared about his men—always there to counsel, listen, and if he deemed it necessary, kick some ass.



“A year ago, I would have signed this without hesitation,” Damien admitted, shocked as his reluctance to do just that. “Now? I’m not sure.”



Nolan’s eyes narrowed in speculation. “Laurie Crawford?”



The accurate deduction did not surprise Damien. His captain was extremely perceptive.

Six months ago, he had had a long discussion with Nolan, convincing both of them that any relationship with Laurie was short-lived and doomed to failure. Nolan had looked at him with the same intense speculation but let Damien’s decision stand. In the last month or so, Damien had grown aware of Nolan’s increasing scrutiny though the man kept his thoughts to himself.



Damien frowned but nodded curtly. “I can’t stop thinking about her, wanting her. The SEALs are my life. She can’t fit into that. She shouldn’t have to try. But after twelve years, I don’t know if I can be a civilian again—an ordinary guy.”



“You’ll never be an ordinary guy, Damien,” Nolan said thoughtfully. “But you have thirty days to find out if you can be a civilian—if you want to be, or even should be.”



Damien gaped openly at the man. “Thirty days?”



With a reluctant sigh, Nolan lowered his hands and fixed his piercing stare on Damien.

“Take your thirty days. Go see the woman. It’s possible she may not want you back now. Look at the situation from all angles. Make a decision.”



Damien sat in stunned silence. It had not occurred to him that Laurie might not welcome him back. But she loved him. Or rather, she had loved him once. Did she still? He had to find out. With an abrupt nod, he rose and left Nolan’s office. Possibilities both pleasant and unpleasant whirled in his mind. He went straight to his quarters, across the hall from Neal’s open door. He dropped his helmet on the desk and rubbed a weary hand over his face as he dropped into a chair. Looking up, he spotted Neal leaning against the door frame.



“Another six years,” Neal said. “Six more years of saving humanity from its own stupidity.” His bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect. He was a die-hard SEAL, much like Damien had always been.



“I don’t know,” Damien countered wearily. He really needed some sleep.



Neal Farrell glanced sharply at the man he called brother and straightened up. “What gives? Six years ago you re-enlisted without thinking.”



“I want—I need something else.” Though his mind churned with unanswered questions and post mission exhaustion, Damien stared steadily at his best friend. They had saved each other’s butts countless times, talked about girls, traded sorrows. Neal had gotten him stinking drunk after the divorce then found him a willing but temporary bed partner. They had been through thick and thin together since SEAL training.



“Don’t tell me—you met a girl,” Neal quipped flippantly, a teasing gleam in his eyes.



Damien said nothing, his thoughts as serious as if he was leaving on a mission in five minutes.



Amusement vanished from Neal’s eyes and he looked stunned. “Jesus, Damien. You’re leaving because of a woman?” He paused as his eyes narrowed in speculation then widened in realization. “Not Laurie.” He shook his head in disgust. “Christ, man, you’re obsessed with her.”