SEAL the Deal(91)

That caught Mick’s attention. “You?”

“Aha! Yeah, you don’t know that either, do you, you know-it-all pain-in-the-ass? My Gram’s funeral was the first one she crashed.”

“What?”

“I was already going through hell in my life, but then Gram dies on top of everything else. You talk about vulnerable? I was the dictionary definition of it. I met Lacey and contacted her only a couple weeks later about selling Gram’s house. She had nothing back then. She rented a cheap room in a house with a bunch of loud college students a decade younger than she was ”

Mick was feeling sick, the image forming in his mind of Lacey struggling to get by.

“She needed that listing, Mick. She needed me to sell Gram’s house so badly she could taste it. But you know what she did? She convinced me that the house was meant for me. She saw the vision I had for it, the memories there that I couldn’t let go of. She flat out refused to list it.” Maeve squared her shoulders. “You stand there judging Lacey’s integrity? Well, maybe integrity has always been cut and dry to you. Maybe you’ve been so sheltered that you never had to find some gray area just so you could make ends meet.”

Now Mick’s temper flared. “Sheltered? I’ve been to war, for God’s sake.”

“That doesn’t make you better than any of us. That doesn’t mean you know what it’s like in a world where no one salutes when you walk down the street.” Shaking her head, she reached for the door. “I thought you’d be good for her. I thought you were one of the good guys. Maybe I was wrong.”

She flung the door open to find the tall, broad form of a man on the other side. He stood there in uniform, his chest full of ribbons, and the tiniest hint of gray coming in around his temples.

Mick snapped to attention at the sight of the senior officer.

Still fuming, Maeve gave the older man an obvious head-to-toe appraisal and muttered, “Does everyone have to be so damn good-looking around here?”

She bounded down the steps.

Captain Joe Shey’s grinning eyes followed Maeve as she blazed a path across the parade field, her feisty hips swaying as she darted along. Stepping into Mick’s home, he bent to pick up a piece of broken coffee mug. “Making new friends in Annapolis, I see, Mick.”

“Sir. I wasn’t expecting you.” Mick was poker-faced, but he seethed inside at the sight of the man who had stonewalled his career. A flood of memories of his last mission rushed back. The searing heat and the taste of sweat. Sharp winds thick with sand that cut into his face even as blood streamed down his side. The ache of Lieutenant Sully’s body flung over his shoulder as he charged to the secondary extraction point.

Suddenly, he wasn’t in Annapolis anymore. He was back in Afghanistan fighting for his life and the lives of his team.

Captain Shey’s voice dragged him back to reality. “I know you weren’t. We need to talk. You alone?”

“Except for you, Sir.”

“Good. Got coffee?”

“Yes, Sir. In the kitchen.”

Mick made himself and the Captain a cup of instant.

“Sit down, Mick,” Captain Shey ordered, his hand gesturing to the kitchen table. “I know I’m not your favorite person right now.”

Mick sat across from the man, bitterness tingeing the sides of his eyes and slowly spreading across his face. “Respectfully, Sir, how many calls did it take? To undo my San Diego orders and get me sent here?”

“Took more than I thought it would. You’ve got a few Admirals in your back pocket I wasn’t expecting. And you’re highly decorated. Navy Cross, for God’s sake. Hell, you’re a damn superstar.” He laughed a little, at complete ease in the situation, and leaned back in his chair. “I put you in for the Medal of Honor, by the way, for your last mission.”

Mick’s stared in disbelief.

“It’ll be forever before I hear back, and God knows they probably won’t give it to you seeing as guys generally need to be dead to get one these days. But I wanted it on record.”

“Sir, if you thought so highly of my performance on that mission that you’d put me in for the Medal of Honor, then why the hell am I teaching in Annapolis?”

“Your performance on the mission was admirable. But afterwards…” The Captain crossed his arms. “…you fell apart, Mick. You were dangerous.”

“To who? You?”

Captain Shey scoffed. “Hell, no. To yourself. To your team if you were sent on another mission.” Leaning forward, he took a long sip of coffee. “You overstepped boundaries. If I sent you to San Diego in that condition, you would have ended up getting a month’s worth of psych evals. You were too pissed off to be in black ops. We need level-headed men, not hot-headed SOBs who mouth off and question their chain of command.”