SEAL the Deal(43)

“I don’t get it. Why?”

Mick let out an audible breath. “This last mission I led with the SEALs. I can’t say much about it, but it was bloody. We were under fire, made it to the extract point, but our transport left prematurely because they were under fire. My CO was in the helo and ordered a shift to a secondary extraction point even though he knew my team was on the way.”

Lacey listened, bewildered by this glimpse into his other life. Half of it she didn’t even understand—a litany of acronyms and military jargon. But she felt the gravity of what he was describing.

“He just left us,” he continued, “smack in a valley stuck between two mountains with fire coming from both sides. Put my guys in extreme danger. We had to fight our way to the other extraction point. We made it out alive, but four of us were wounded. I took shrapnel in my shoulder and one guy lost his leg to a mortar round. I had to carry him three miles under heavy fire before we made it out.”

Stunned, Lacey sat in silence, imagining a Mick she never knew existed. It was a world apart from sitting on Maeve’s back porch playing Scrabble and drinking beer.

“I was pissed as hell. There was no reason for him to have ordered the shift. When I demanded an explanation, he couldn’t give me one. I told him what I thought of him to his face with the use of some rather questionable language. Before I knew what hit me, he made a phone call and my orders for San Diego were changed to the Naval Academy. Completely stabbed me in the back.”

Cautiously, Lacey’s eyes met his. “Is it really so bad to be sent here, Mick?”

“Career-wise, yeah, it’s a huge setback. I am out of my community. It’s a dead end if I can’t work some miracle to turn it around. And he knew it when he made the call. Since then, I’ve had a hard time trusting anyone. Maybe I’m not such a great friend to have, Lacey. Guys like me are good in a firefight. I’d never let you down. But in this world, I’m still learning how to live with civilians.”

Lacey sighed, exhaustion draining from her body. “Mick, about Edith’s house. I want you to know I didn’t recommend that she sell it. In fact, I said the exact opposite.”

He held his hands up. “You don’t have to tell me that. It’s not my business. You were right.”

“No, but there is something I need to tell you.” The time to tell him the truth had come, and a knot formed in her stomach at the thought.

“If it’s about your work, I don’t want to hear it. You were right. You’re a real estate agent. You do what you have to do to make a living. I have to trust your judgment. If Mrs. B decides to sell her house, I hope you’re the person to list it, because I know that you’d make sure she was treated right.”

“But there is something you should know. When I started out in this business, I really didn’t know too many local people,” she began uneasily.

“Lacey, stop. Really. I of all people should give you privacy where your business is concerned. Half of the things I did in the SEALs I’ll never even be able to tell my children if I ever have any.”

“But—”

“I have no right to expect that someone else’s life is supposed to be an open book for me. Much less a friend. I hope that’s what you still are, right? Friends?” He extended his hand.

Lacey smiled and shook it. “Friends.”

Grinning, he pulled her toward him and lightly brushed a kiss to her cheek. He touched his forehead to hers. “Thank God, because I’m still fully intending to get you naked one of these days.”

Lacey burst out laughing.

***

With the help of Mick and Jack, the three women managed to get the house straightened up. Mick secured a piece of plywood to the broken door and tried futilely to convince them to let him spend the night on the couch near the door.

Taking an elongated sip of Merlot as she stretched out on the couch, Lacey let the oakiness fill her senses. Now, with Mick and Jack gone, Lacey couldn’t help the uneasiness welling up inside of her. She savored the wine’s soothing effects, even if it only offered her a false sense of calm. “I just don’t get it. Why would someone break into your house just to mess it up? Is there someone who is mad at you?”

Kicking off her shoes, Maeve rested her feet on the ottoman. A small fire in the fireplace crackled in front of her. “Phil and I had to fire the receptionist a few months ago. But I can’t imagine it’s her.”

“What about your ex-husband?”

Maeve’s eyes grew visibly cold. “Believe me, if there was any reason to send the cops after him, I’d grab it. But he’s very happy with his new life.”