The SEAL’s Instant Family Page 7

  “Glad you’re back.” She looked up at him. “Everything okay?”

  “Seems to be.” Since the girls were listening to what they said, he kept his response short and reassuring.

  “Can you keep track of them for a minute? I want to get the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers from the kitchen.”

  “S’mores,” Emma shouted. Both girls looked pleased at the unexpected treat.

  “Good idea,” he said, plopping down on the rug between the girls. “You might need this.” He pulled a flashlight from his back pocket and handed it to Mia.

  “Be right back,” Mia said.

  He put an arm around each girl when thunder rumbled outside. The storm was moving off, but he’d checked the radar and saw another wasn’t far behind it. Mia’s idea to have s’mores by the fire was a great distraction.

  “Here we are.” Mia returned with a basket of items and spread them out near the fire. “Who wants to roast a marshmallow first?”

  Kenton felt a brief moment of panic. She wasn’t going to let the girls closer to the fire than they already were, was she? Mia scooted nearer to it and trapped Emma between her legs. He got her plan now, so he did the same with Ava. Eliot took up a position between them as they extended long sticks toward the fire. Mia assembled the s’mores when the marshmallows were golden brown, letting each girl put the top cracker on her own treat.

  “I remember a night like this when I was young,” Mia began. “Your mom and I were staying at my grandparents’ house out in the country, and it had rained all day. There were puddles big enough to swim in. Just after sunset, my grandma let Caroline and me out of the house, and we ran like jackrabbits, stomping through puddles and shaking the water off plants.”

  Kenton wasn’t sure if the girls were interested in Mia’s story about running free or if it was the way she modulated her voice, but they were riveted. So much so that Mia told other stories from her childhood that involved her and the girls’ mother having fun.

  “Your turn.” Mia smiled at him as she concluded a tale of how a boy dared her to not only touch a frog but carry it around for an entire day.

  “Me?” She wanted him to tell a story? Like the kids and Eliot, he’d been happy to listen to her.

  “Sure. I’ll bet you’ve got some fascinating stories.” She smiled encouragement. “You grew up in town, right?”

  “I did,” he said, giving Eliot, who had come to lie next to him, another rub on the belly.

  “Storytelling helps to put everyone at ease.” Her gaze took in Eliot. The quirk of her lips showed she was amused by his role as dog whisperer. The animal had paced nervously until finally settling against Kenton. He felt anything but ease about being put on the spot for a story. Some of his fellow SEALs were storytellers, spinning yarns of their adventures as youths. He’d never taken part in those conversations, preferring to listen. He was going to have to come up with something, though. And quick. He cast around in his memory.

  “I went to Boy Scout camp every summer for several years,” he began. He’d loved those weeks. Patrick was always there, and Anderson had come just the one year, but they’d made some memories that time. “One time, I wanted to stay up late to watch the Perseid meteor shower.” He caught Mia’s raised eyebrows and realized he’d lost his audience. Time to correct course. “It’s when there are a whole bunch of falling stars on the same night.” Ava’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “Two buddies and I crept out of our cabin, climbed a big hill, and spent the entire night up there. We saw so many falling stars that we lost count. It was awesome, but we got caught coming back in early the next morning and had to wash the breakfast dishes for the rest of the week.”

  “Was it worth it?” Mia asked, her expression relaxed and happy.

  “Every dish and spoon,” he said. Not only had he seen dozens of meteors, he’d spent time with two of his closest friends.

  “Nice story.” He felt gratified at the compliment. It hadn’t been as good as the ones she’d told, but he’d liked the dreamy expression on the girls’ faces while he’d spoken.

  “Time for bed, you two,” Mia said, tapping first one girl and then the other on the nose.

  Kenton had to stop himself from begging for one more story from her. The evening, despite his earlier worries about security, had been nice. There was something special about sitting in the glow of the fire.

  But then he saw Emma yawn and knew the night was over. He checked his watch. It was already past their usual bedtime, and everything he’d read about raising kids had agreed that a regular bedtime needed to be observed. He rose, lifting Ava with him.

  “I’ll get them settled, if you want to…” Mia tilted her head toward the front door.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said, surprised that he hadn’t been the one to realize it was time for another security sweep.

  He wished the girls good night before Mia took them upstairs by the light of a flashlight. Once alone, he moved through the house in the same pattern he had earlier, taking extra time outside now that the rain had lessened. The air was cold and clammy, but the threat of storms had moved off. A truck from the electric company turned onto the street. A good sign that the power would be restored soon. He’d stay awake until it was to make sure the security system came back up as it should.

  When he returned to the living room, he found Mia cleaning up the s’more makings. She was packing up the evening, and he had a desire to prolong it.

  “A glass of red wine would go well with the chocolate, if you’re game,” he said as his nerves flared to life, preparing for the inevitable sting should she reject his offer.

  “A glass of wine?” She straightened, her voice rife with surprise. “With me?”

  “Well, Eliot too. He has woken me up several days in a row now. So, I guess you could say things are getting pretty serious.”

  She laughed. “I’ll join you two if there’s room. I’ve got some dark chocolate in the kitchen. Do you want me to grab a bottle from the wine rack?”

  He nodded. “I’ll add an extra log to the fire.” During other evenings, he and Mia had parted as soon as the kids were in bed. She had to get up early, and he enjoyed the quiet to check with his contacts and do some reading about parenting. So this was new.

  A few minutes later, she carried in a tray of supplies. He opened the bottle and poured them each a glass. Without discussing it, they both sat on the floor in front of the hearth. It seemed a better choice than the couch for the evening.

  “What should we talk about?” she asked after they’d clinked glasses and tasted the wine. It was a rich vintage, and he felt its warmth travel through his veins. That heat could be the company, too, he admitted. The flicker of firelight on Mia’s skin was tantalizing. He needed to come up with a topic of conversation fast, or he’d start thinking about how her knit shirt showed off the swell of her breasts. Enough. He cut his thoughts off.

  “How did you end up working at a bakery? Did you go to culinary school?” He had wondered about her history, and it seemed a safer topic than his contemplation of her figure.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I tried college, but I couldn’t see spending the money when I didn’t know what I wanted to do. So I left after a semester and began to wander. I took jobs that appealed to me and knocked around the country for several years.”

  “What was your favorite place?” Even though he’d never want a life like that, he was fascinated by it.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She broke off a couple of squares from the dark chocolate bar and handed one to him. “There have been a lot of interesting places. I think Savannah was my favorite city. It has a cool, laid-back vibe. And the tips were good.” She raised her glass and took another sip of wine.

  “Where did you work?” he asked to draw her out.

  “Restaurants, mostly. I get the food business, and I love talking to people.”

  He could see that about her, even if he didn’t have a similar ease around others. She had a
way of making everyone feel comfortable.

  “What about you?” She turned the question on him. “Did you plan to join the Navy after high school?”

  “I made that decision when I was ten and set my sights on it. If I hadn’t gotten into Annapolis, I’m not sure what I’d have done.” That goal had controlled what he’d done throughout his youth, because he knew what it would take to be accepted: excellent grades, athletic skill, and self-discipline. He’d started talking to recruiters when he was fifteen.

  “My guess is that there was no danger of you not getting in.” She watched him over the rim of her wineglass.

  “Probably not,” he conceded. “I was focused.”

  “Was?” Her brows lifted. “I think you still are.”

  “Well, yeah. You’ve got to have a plan in life. That’s how you get what you want.” It was a lesson he’d learned early. His uncle Ned had a dream, but no plan to achieve it. When Kenton was nine, Uncle Ned had gone off to Nashville expecting to make it big in country music. He had talent, but no connections and no plan to make them. He just hoped to be “discovered.” A year later, he’d come back, having gone through all his savings without ever achieving any success, and he had to live with Kenton’s family until he could get back on his feet. It was partly Uncle Ned’s example that had driven Kenton to be so regimented about his own future. That and the example set by his own parents.

  “You mean like this house?” she asked.

  “A solid home is important to me.” He didn’t add that the home was a foundational step in his life plan of home, wife, and kids.

  “And you won’t end up homeless like me,” she quipped. He looked at her to assess her tone, but her poker face was in place.

  “That apartment fire wasn’t your fault,” he said. Something like that could happen to anyone.

  “No, but like other things, it set me in a different direction. I never know for sure what’s coming next, and usually that’s okay. I figure the universe gives me what I need when I need it. Losing my apartment meant I found my way here temporarily. Who knows where it will take me next?”

  “What about the girls?” Having kids had to have changed her nomadic ways. Kids took planning.

  “They’re young enough to go with the flow. Once they get to be school age, I’ll have to make decisions about where I want to be, but I have three or four years before I need to worry about that. Until then, I’m open to new experiences. Like meeting you,” she added softly.

  “Huh?” She was happy to have met him?

  “I wouldn’t have met you without the series of events that led me to your house.”

  Was it important to her that they’d met? He hadn’t thought about the coincidence that had brought them together and given him a taste of raising kids. He couldn’t have planned for that and wasn’t sure how to respond, so he chose caution. “I hope it’s been a good experience.”

  “It has. We’re very different.” She leaned back against a pillow. “But I like you.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I’m not,” she said. “I’ve learned not to guess what people are like until I’ve met them. About you, based on your mother’s words and what I saw in the house, I might have misjudged.”

  “How so?” He finished his wine and set it aside.

  She smiled at him again. “I wouldn’t have thought you were the type to sit on the floor and drink wine on a stormy evening.”

  He wouldn’t have said that about himself, either, but there he was. The energy around them had changed, and it didn’t have anything to do with the electric storm that had passed. “Am I the type who might kiss you?” The question was out before he could stop it.

  “I don’t have a type for that, but, as I said—” she twisted to place her wine glass on the hearth— “I welcome new experiences.”

  Kenton took that as invitation enough and reached for her. They’d shared two hugs, nice ones, but this moment was completely different. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and his went to her waist. They were still sitting on the floor but facing each other now. The fire crackled in the background, and the soft light picked up the colors in her hair. He coasted his hand through it, liking the way the shining waves filtered through his fingers.

  “Do you have a kissing plan?” Her voice was light and teasing.

  “Don’t tempt me,” he whispered as his mouth closed over hers. Some moments didn’t require planning, and this was definitely one of those. He ran his tongue along her full bottom lip before delving into her mouth. She tasted of wine and chocolate and woman. Absolutely intoxicating.

  Her fingers played against the skin of his neck and jaw as he deepened the kiss, their tongues tangling. When he broke away from her mouth, she lifted her chin, letting him know what she wanted. He wasted no time kissing down her neck until he nudged aside the top edge of her shirt to lick her collarbone. Her soft moan told him he’d found a spot she liked. Where else could he kiss her that would make her moan? He retraced his path back to her lips as his hands stroked the length of her back.

  He was considering laying her down on his living room floor when a sharp crack of thunder made them break apart. Eliot jumped to his feet and began to bark, and the cry of a child from overhead reached them. Kissing was over for the night. Almost.

  He cupped her cheek with his hand and placed one more soft kiss on her lips before rising and helping her to her feet.

  10

  Mia checked on the apple Danish baking in the oven. She’d had an unexpected day off, since the power remained out at the bakery. Fortunately, it was on at Kenton’s home, so she and Kenton had cared for the girls, observing his time schedule during the morning and early afternoon. Then he’d retreated to his office and even missed dinner, and she had to wonder if he was avoiding her. She hoped the sugary scent of the Danish would draw him out, because they probably needed to have an adult conversation about the previous night’s kissing.

  Neither one of them had brought it up, even when they’d had a minute or two during the day when the girls were occupied. Did his silence mean he was regretting it? She hoped not, because she sure wasn’t. Those kisses had been among the best she’d experienced, and she couldn’t quite say why. Was it because Kenton kissed like he did everything else, with serious intention, even if there hadn’t been a plan? Or was he just a great kisser?

  She wasn’t sure, but she hoped to get the opportunity to find out.

  “Eat?” Emma danced around Mia’s feet as she removed the pastries from the oven.

  “They’ll be too hot, but you can have one in the morning for breakfast. I promise.” She’d leave a note for Kenton. He’d probably object to the sweet at the morning meal due to the lack of nutritional value, but Mia kept her promises to the girls. “Bedtime for you two. Up we go.”

  Mia let the twins play in the bathtub to wear them out before tucking them into their cribs. She knew they’d talk with each other before going to sleep, but that was good for them. Twins usually had a language of their own, and these two were no different. Their speech patterns were just developing, but she’d noticed both verbal and nonverbal communication between them.

  Before leaving their room, she adjusted the nanny cam in the corner and checked to make sure it was connected to her phone.

  “Night night,” she said, giving them each a kiss before closing their door and going downstairs.

  She entered the empty living room that was remarkably clutter-free, since they’d followed Kenton’s rules about cleaning up after play. It was all in the schedule, but it meant that Mia had nothing she had to do. She could bake more or start laundry, but neither of those options sounded as good as rousting Kenton from his lair. She turned her head to look toward his office door.

  But she needed to set the stage. The storms the day before had ushered in fall-like temperatures, so a fire might be nice and romantic. She piled wood and kindling in the fireplace and had a fire going in no time. With that done, she headed for th
e kitchen.

  Wine or something else? The colder air had her thinking about a warm beverage. Irish coffee seemed perfect. In the kitchen, she started a fresh pot of coffee brewing while she got out the whiskey and brown sugar and whipped up some heavy cream. She assembled the drinks in glass mugs, dusted a dash of cocoa powder on top, and carried them to Kenton’s office.

  “Knock, knock,” she said and nudged open the door. “I brought you something, but I’d like to entice you to come out of here.”

  He glanced up from where he sat in front of his computer screen with a pen in one hand and a notepad nearby.

  “Please,” she added, hoping to recall him from the thoughts that appeared to take him miles away.

  “You’re right.” With a sigh, he put the pen down and closed the lid of his laptop. “I’ve been in here too long. The girls?”

  “Already in bed. Irish coffee?” She handed him a mug.

  He grinned at her suddenly. “What makes you think I’m Irish?”

  “It might be the Fitzpatrick part of your name. Not that it matters when it comes to liking this drink. I’m not Irish, and it’s one of my favorite treats.” She waited for him to take a sip before continuing. “I started a fire. Will you join me?”

  She didn’t wait for him to respond but walked toward the living room. The office door closed, and she heard his footsteps following her. When she sat on the couch, she patted the seat next to her. He was still tense, probably from what he had or hadn’t discovered while in his office. Maybe if she got him to talk about it, he could move past it so they could enjoy the evening. And kiss some more, which she admitted was her main motivation.

  “Learn anything new?” She didn’t know exactly what he was doing in there, but she guessed it had to do with the assailant who had come after them.

  He shook his head as he sat next to her on the couch. “Analyzing my last mission again. I’m still trying to figure out where it went wrong.”

  “And you think the threat against us is connected to it?” He’d told her about the mission and conveyed his concerns about how it might be the source of the threat, but she hadn’t asked too many questions.