Page 123 of Beast

Annie stood outside on our tiny balcony. The breeze blew her hair off her face. She was wearing a sundress that showed off her tan skin. She looked up to me, and her crooked smile, which I’d first noticed in the brothel, melted me.

“I’m going to miss you, Pat,” she whispered, careful not to wake Gabriel.

“Me too.” I kissed her slowly. I needed this kiss to take me through a long deployment.

Her arms wrapped around me. She held me tight, and nibbled my ear. I loved it when she did that. She reached out, grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom.

I was about to undress her and make love to her for the final time before I left. But she stopped me and knelt in front of me on the bed.

She took me in her mouth, and I gasped. I hadn’t let her go down on me since the night in the brothel. I still felt guilty about that day. It changed our lives forever, for the best, but I couldn’t shake the guilt. I hired her. I used her.

I stopped her and made her look at me. “You don’t have to do this, Annie. Ever.”

“I want to, Pat. I’m going to miss you so much it will hurt. I love you. I want to please you. I’m your wife.”

She wrapped her lips around me, her tongue dancing again. My mind flashed to that night in the brothel. We’d come full circle. Same girl, same amazing technique. But this time, instead of imagining that she was my faithful, loving, girlfriend who lived for pleasing me, and that being with me even for just a few months out of the year was worth enduring the loneliness when I was gone, it was real. She was real. She was mine. She respected that being a SEAL was my calling, and she didn’t want to change me.

I pushed her off me. I had something to tell her.

“Annie, I love you.”

She looked me straight in the eye. “I know. I love you, too.”

I meant it. I loved her.

She was no longer my mission.

She was my wife.

Epilogue

Annie

Three months later

GABRIEL AND I STOOD AT the dock. We’d spent all week making Pat’s welcome home sign. It was decorated with trains, American flags, frogs, and seals, the kind you found at the aquarium. In big letters it read, “Welcome home Patrick. Husband, Father and Hero.”

Vic’s mom and his daughter also waited with us. Poor Vic still hadn’t found anyone. He was such a great guy, but he was super picky. At least Kyle was in love, or so Pat said. I’d believe it when I saw it. Supposedly, he’d fallen head over heels for a NFL Cheerleader on the USO tour, one of the San Diego Wildfire Girls. Kyle, Pat and Vic had another rescue adventure—the USO convoy hit an IED and insurgents had taken the women hostage. Unlike my rescue, this one had been all over the news. I kept my eyes glued to the television, hoping to see a clip of my husband. But, of course, they’d managed to evade the media and their names and pictures were kept out of the press. Though this time, credit was given to SEAL Team Seven. Pat said it was just another day at work, completely humble and modest. He, Kyle, and Vic tried to pretend that saving people was no different than pushing papers around in an office. I had to admit, I had a twinge of jealousy knowing that my fine-ass husband had been surrounded by beautiful cheerleaders, who no doubt wanted him. Sexy girls without horrible pasts. I found myself stalking the cheerleaders’ website—eyeing the brunettes, wondering if one of them had caught Pat’s eye. I knew I was just being paranoid and insecure. Still deep down questioning that Pat could ever truly love me. But he went out of his way to assure me how much he worshipped me, every chance he got. I never doubted his fidelity.

Deployment went faster than I’d expected. Pat called every chance he could, which was around every week or so. He sent me letters, gifts for Gabriel, toys for Trigger. He was so kind, thoughtful and romantic. I thanked my stars every day that he was mine.

Gabriel was now in preschool, and I was taking college classes. Only two, because I wanted to ease back into it. The SEAL wives had been so amazing and welcoming—always ready with a casserole or last minute babysitting.

I’d pretty much cut out my old friends, except for Chris. He was still there for me and we met up weekly. He took Gabriel surfing every week. Pat swore he was okay with it, but I knew it made him jealous that another man was playing with his son.

As for my parents, I hadn’t seen them. At all. My mom had called me a few times, begging me to try to work things out with my father, but I wasn’t ready. Not until Patrick was back home. I needed his emotional support and to make sure they accepted him and Gabriel before I agreed to rejoin my family.

Patrick’s mom had come down to visit. I loved her—she was so sweet and warm and Gabriel adored his Granny. She’d even started looking for a job down here. Pat wanted her to move so she could be around for me when he was deployed.

“Mama. It’s Daddy!”

Patrick was standing at the helm of the ship, wearing his sailor uniform, complete with the bib, tie, and bellbottoms. He had at first refused to “man the rail,” but I told him how Gabriel would think it was so cool and how much it would turn me on to see him from the dock. He wanted to make me happy. I knew how much he hated that uniform, but I thought he looked sexy, the way the fabric clung to his ass. My husband was fucking gorgeous.

Pat walked down the gangplank and ran to us. I was so nervous—last time we had greeted him, I didn’t think he’d ever wanted to see me again. Now, we were a family.

He lifted up Gabriel, and pulled me into his strong embrace. A kiss. Long, sweet, loving. His lips, I’d missed them so. I couldn’t wait until tonight to be alone with him.

“Hey babe.” He placed his hand on my belly, now swollen. I was four months pregnant. “How’s our little girl?”