Stirred Up By a SEAL

Chapter 1-2

Rachel made another restless lap around the house. Jonah’s house. Where she was meant to be staying for the next three weeks because he had two extra bedrooms, since Brax and Holt were now living with their wives.

It had seemed like a great idea when she’d accepted his invitation. She’d save a bundle on lodging while she was here, and it put her in close enough proximity to finally do something about this attraction. Except, after half a magnum of champagne, she’d misread everything.

Now she was dying in this awkward limbo, expecting him to get home any minute, not knowing what to say to him when he did. But it had been a full day since The Incident, and as far as she knew, he was still at the hospital, awaiting the birth of his sister’s first child. Not that she’d dared text him to ask. Opening up any channel of communication seemed like the pinnacle of bad ideas under the circumstances. Instead, she’d paced the house like a lunatic, wrestling with the horror that came with reclaimed sobriety.

She was never drinking champagne again.

When her phone rang, she yelped, leaping away as if it were a poisonous snake. Calling herself an i***t, she edged closer to check the readout.

Audrey Graham.

On a shaky exhale, she scooped up the phone and answered the friend she’d put on a plane in Knoxville earlier today. “Hey.”

“I just wanted to let you know I made it home to Syracuse.”

“Oh, good.” Her voice came out an octave higher than usual.

It didn’t take Audrey’s certified genius brain to figure out something was off. “Rach, what’s wrong?”

She’d opted to say nothing to Audrey this morning, but after having the whole day alone with her thoughts, Rachel knew she had to spill or she’d explode. Dropping onto the sofa, she buried her face in her lap and groaned, “Everything. I kissed Jonah last night.”

“Ah.” The simple, one-syllable answer was so much Audrey’s non-judgmental therapist response it had Rachel’s temper sparking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Her tone was calm and placating, as ever. “I just wondered when that was going to come to a head.”

“You knew?” What was she saying? Of course, Audrey knew. Even before all the graduate degrees, she’d been a natural observer. She saw everything. It was part of what made her a gifted clinician and researcher.

Instead of answering, Audrey came back with a question of her own. “How was it?”

Despite the fact that her friend couldn’t see, Rachel covered her face with both hands. “Awful. He didn’t kiss me back.”

“Oh.”

Audrey’s legitimate surprise only compounded Rachel’s mortification. “I just… We’ve gotten to be such good friends, and he’s the first guy I’ve found really attractive since John died, and I thought it would be easier to take that leap with someone I care for and respect, just to get over the hump. But he didn’t kiss me back, and then he was gone to the hospital with Sam. And of course he should have gone with her. But now I’ve had time to sober up, and, Audrey, what the hell am I going to do for the next three weeks? How can I face him? I’m staying in his house!” The words spilled out in a flood, laying out everything she’d been spinning over since last night.

“He’s not home yet?”

“No.”

“Hang on a sec.” Her voice got muffled for a moment as she murmured to someone else. “I’ll be off in a little while.” A low, male voice answered, ending on a low chuckle. Because, of course, Audrey’s husband, who happened to be Rachel’s cousin, was right there.

There was a click that might have been the closing of a door.

“Okay, I’m back.”

“Please, dear God, tell me Hudson’s not listening in.”

“Nope, I sent him to unpack and get the laundry started.” Audrey sighed, and Rachel could picture her settling into the comfortable reading chair in her study, massaging the legs that had been rebuilt of pins and titanium after the catastrophic car accident years before that had first crossed her path with Hudson’s. “Now, it seems to me you have two choices. You can either pretend it was a drunken mistake and laugh it off. Or you can talk to him about it while you’re sober.”

“If I could talk about it sober, I wouldn’t have had to drink half a bottle of champagne to get up the guts to kiss him in the first place.” Why, oh why, had she thought that was a good idea?

“You and Jonah talk about everything.”

“Not everything.” Not how she’d been having dreams about him. How his hands were the ones she was imagining on her body now. It was disconcerting. And it was thrilling to know that part of her hadn’t died with John. Or it had been before she’d all but expired from mortification on the spot at the reception.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question?”

“Yes.”

Rachel blew out an exasperated breath and tried to come up with a coherent answer. Fear had become so much a part of her life since John’s accident. She’d gone from knowing who she was and where she stood, absolutely, to questioning almost everything in her life. It was why she’d sold her bakery. Why she’d spent the past couple of years as an instructor for Audrey’s experimental baking therapy program for military veterans struggling with anxiety, depression, and PTSD, where she’d met Jonah and the other guys.

“I’m afraid of everything. Of ruining our friendship. Of being rejected. I’m terrified that the idea of a friends-with-benefits arrangement will insult him somehow. This seemed easy through the veil of champagne. It made sense. But now? I don’t know.” And the not knowing was killing her.

“Well, you can’t undo the kiss. So you have to decide whether you want to make excuses, or whether to actually go for what you want. And you might want to make that decision soon, because Sam just texted. The baby’s here, so Jonah will probably be on his way home shortly.”

She so wasn’t ready for that conversation.

“What did they have?”

“Girl. Aurora Leigh. They’re calling her Rory.”

As Audrey reeled off the rest of the expected information, Rachel smiled through the pinch around her heart. She and John had been trying for a baby the year he’d died, and a part of her had been devastated not to have a piece of him to carry on. But it didn’t dim her legitimate joy for Sam and Griff. She didn’t know Jonah’s sister well, but she’d heard plenty about her through Audrey, as the two had taught at the same university for a while, before Audrey had reconnected with Hudson.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing lots of pictures. Thanks for listening.”

“Any time. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“Not a damned clue. But I’ll figure it out. I don’t have any other choice.”

She sat in silence for several minutes after hanging up the phone. Did she want to take the risk of talking to Jonah openly about what she wanted, or was it better to take the out of alcohol-impaired judgment and cling to the friendship they’d built? The answer wasn’t simple. Neither option had a flashing neon sign saying, Pick me!

The truth was, he’d been up for something like forty hours by now. In all likelihood, he’d want to sleep in tomorrow. She needed to be up early anyway to get things rolling at the bakery so they could open on time at seven. The best option right now was to avoid him. Maybe after another night’s sleep, she’d know what to do.

She scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen counter for him to find. Then, like the coward she was, she took herself to the guest room he’d given her and went to bed.