Navy SEAL Surrender

Alicia closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. “I get it. You’re a naval officer who probably has a gal in every port. Well, Lieutenant Sloan, my little part of the world doesn’t have a dock. It’s centered around a four-year-old child. I’m her whole world. And I don’t take risks with it.”

“I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do. I have responsibilities to Lauren and have no intention of jeopardizing that by dating. Let alone having sex in a dried-up field with a man I haven’t seen or heard from in over a decade.”

“Don’t worry about Lauren. We’ll get her back.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Never.” He’d never hate her. He’d also never stop wanting her with every part of his being. Never.

Navy SEAL

Surrender

Angi Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANGI MORGAN writes Mills & Boon® Intrigue novels “where honor and danger collide with love.” She combines actual Texas settings with characters who are in realistic and dangerous situations. Angi has been a finalist for the Booksellers’ Best Award, RT Book Reviews Best First Series, Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and the Daphne du Maurier Award.

Angi and her husband live in North Texas, with only the four-legged “kids” left in the house to interrupt her writing. They recently began volunteering for a local Labrador foster program. Visit her website, www.angimorgan.com, or hang out with her on Facebook.

Many moons ago, I graduated high school with a small group of kids. Brian & Johnny are fictional characters but named after two men who won’t be returning at our next reunion. Several of the names in the Sloane brothers’ stories are familiar to my friends, but do not reflect any of their true personalities. All the characters are fictional, but not my friendship with my classmates.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Extract

Chapter One

Join the navy. See the world.

“I don’t think they meant the sandboxes I’ve been playing in.” John Sloane had met and helped a lot of great people around the world. He’d been to several cool cities, nice ports and seen a lot of water. But he never wanted to see most of the places his unit had been deployed again—even in the news.

Back in Texas. Right back where he’d started wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he was eighteen. But right now he didn’t care about choices or destinations. He just wanted information on his dad.

He’d returned from a training exercise and was told that his father had suffered a major stroke. When he couldn’t reach the house or his dad, he’d called the police station with no luck. They’d refused to help.

From the message, he knew that his father was alive and at the ranch. He’d arranged extended leave and a ticket back to his hometown. Taking as much time off as he wanted wasn’t a problem. He had a lot stored up. He wanted to be here as long as needed to get his father back on his feet. The only objective so far was to get home.

Two hours in triple-digit heat with the rental’s AC whacked-out had added to his building frustration. He was sailing blind with no information, since his brother hadn’t returned his calls and the home phone seemed to be out of order.

If John was being honest—no sense lying to himself—he hadn’t been the most dependable brother. Or the most communicative. Since they’d learned to open their mouths, Brian had been the twin to tell the world what they needed. Brian had been the responsible one keeping him out of trouble, right up to his last words to him, “Leave and never look back.”

That was exactly what he’d done.

John had followed through on his promise, joined the navy, left the ranch and had never come back.

In the navy, he wasn’t Brian’s twin or Johnny Junior or the baby. He’d quickly risen to chief petty officer and was the man you went to with a problem. He was the guy who got things done. Action, not words.

Then things changed. Promotions after online classes and a college degree. Instead of solving the problems, he followed orders. Now a lieutenant, he was the man responsible if someone got shot. A man who’d been doing too much thinking recently.

Texas? California? Navy? Private sector? Which road should just simple John choose? Too much thinking.... Right now he would help his dad, work the horses and maybe—just maybe—reconnect with his brother. That was the mission.

Deciding his future could wait.

His hometown was just ahead, and suddenly he didn’t feel so confident. Since that short good riddance right after graduation, he hadn’t seen or spoken to Brian. John hadn’t seen his father in almost three years. How would the town see him now? Who would he be after twelve years? The man he’d become, or the kid the town remembered?

Aubrey looked like a busy small town instead of the bus-stop intersection with one red light he’d left. Lots of changes, and yet the most familiar thing in the world to him. He knew what stool old man Searcy would be sitting on for his lunch at the café, and he knew who would be serving him his blue-plate special. His stomach growled, emphasizing his lack of lunch. Another ten minutes and he’d be home.

Home.

The word felt good. He’d stay, help his dad around the ranch, work with his back instead of a weapon. He’d welcome every minute of mind-numbing grunt labor. And somehow he’d figure out what to do with the rest of his life.

He raised a finger off the steering wheel, acknowledging those driving past. A friendly custom in north Texas, like tipping your hat. Or at least it used to be. People stared at him and quickly looked away when he caught their eye. He drove through his little town, now full of fast-food restaurants and an outdoor mini shopping mall. He turned off the main road, took the familiar turns and passed the mailbox—faded with one of the letters missing from his father’s name.

Parked on the side of the driveway was a cherry-red Camaro. A car he knew inside and out. The car had always hummed perfection. Mark Miller had won many drag races with that engine. When Mark had left for the army, John had tried to buy it from Mr. Miller many times. He slowed as the driver—obviously waiting on him—opened the door of the car he’d wanted throughout his teenage years. His tires crunched on the gravel as he pulled to a stop.

“Wow.” The word slipped from his brain to his mouth.

“You still haven’t gotten over this car?” the woman said, caressing the hood with long strokes.

Thankfully, she thought he was gawking at the muscle car. The vehicle was a nice backdrop to the curvy medium-height babe with long wavy dark brown hair and eyes hidden behind aviator shades. Dressed in old worn jeans that hugged her hips and a tank top that hugged everything else, he couldn’t focus on the car if he wanted to.

And he really didn’t want to. If he had air-conditioning, he would have cranked it to high. Instead, the sweat beaded on his forehead. He grabbed the button-up shirt he’d tossed on the seat next to him to wipe his face.

“Driving with the windows down? Braving the Texas heat, Johnny? You forget how hot it gets here in July?” the babe asked, crossing the road in worn boots. She slid her glasses to the top of her head, tucking her hair back in the process. Bright smiling eyes laughed at him.

“Alicia?” He recognized her voice, but none of the curves she currently sported.

“Welcome home.” She leaned on the open window, giving him a great view straight between her breasts. A much better view than he’d ever seen in high school.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“I was already at the house. Wanda thought she saw Brian in a new car and sent a text asking if he’d come into some cash.” She shrugged her bare, tanned shoulders. “I knew Brian was in the barn. So I assumed and waited.” She stepped back, pulling the door open. “Get out here so I can give you a proper welcome home. It’s been a while.”

Alicia Miller, now Adams. Or had she gone back to Miller after her husband had died? Either way, he barely recognized his high school sweetheart. She’d definitely filled out in all the right places. He popped the seat-belt release and stood, towering over her in a white undershirt that probably smelled as bad as the horse stalls. She wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. He hugged her back.

Home.

They separated, and the pearly-white smile he expected was gone. He missed her hand swinging upward, until it connected with his cheek. Connected hard. He rubbed it, not ashamed to let her know the slap had stung. Caught off guard by a girl. Or maybe he deserved it. Time enough to contemplate later.

A fitting welcome home.

“Before you ask, that was for your dad. J.W. will never say or do anything to make you feel ashamed, but you deserve that and more for just leaving. It broke his heart.”

The little fireball choked on the last word. But she was right. And he was grown enough now to admit he’d made a mistake by not calling more often. “You’ve seen him? Is he okay?”

“He gets stronger every day. I’m his nurse and help him with physical therapy. That’s what I do, at-home nursing.”

“Just for the record, that’s the one and only time you’ll slap me and get away with it.” He leaned against the rear door, crossing his arms to keep them in check. He didn’t know if he wanted to drive away or reach out and pull her back to fill the emptiness he suddenly experienced.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m not even sure why I did that. I never do that. And now I’m just babbling.”

“Really?” Had it been too long to tease her? She’d been a junior in college the last time he’d heard anything. Their lives had changed when he hadn’t chosen that route. Really changed when Brian had taken the blame for the accident. They hadn’t spoken since his twin had accused him of being irresponsible and leaving a campfire burning.

After boot camp, his dad said Brian had decided not to attend college. Brian’s taking public blame for the fire meant John could achieve his dream of entering the navy. It wouldn’t have happened otherwise, and he owed his brother his entire career.

Join the navy. See the world.

It had been his dream, and his brother had pushed him toward it, sacrificing everything to let him keep it. That was the problem. The closest people to him had believed the accusation.

“I should be...” She gestured toward her car. “Your father’s waiting.”

“You said Brian was in the barn?”

“He was earlier.” Alicia stuck her hands into her front pockets, creating a shrug whether she wanted one or not. “Sorry I slapped you, Johnny.”

“I’m sorry you needed to.” He rubbed his cheek again, scraping the three days of growth.

Alicia took a step toward him, awkwardly pulled him down for what he thought was another hug. He didn’t reach for her. Instead, supersoft fingers caressed him from the bottom of his ears down both lines of his jaws. The sting disappeared faster than a radar blip.

Before he could react, she’d kissed his lips, lingering just a second too long for it to be just a friendly welcome home. Then she waved and returned to her car.

“See you around.”

The dust from the road stuck to his arms and face as he stood there like an idiot while she drove away.

“Wow.”

The Double Bar had been around for over a hundred years, supplying its fair share of cutting horses and rodeo stock. Oak trees had towered over the winding gravel driveway, since just after the Civil War. They’d formed a canopy and should have been a sight for his weary eyes. It was normally one of the coolest places on the ranch. The trees stretching above his head looked gnarly. Had anyone trimmed them since he’d left? He had to slow to avoid the potholes. The pasture looked more like West Texas desert than grazing potential for a herd.

“What the hell’s happened?”

Granddad’s old Dodge truck was loaded with feed and supplies. No doubt his work would start this afternoon, no waiting around. The ranch never let you take a vacation. John parked the rental, dropped the tailgate of the truck and slapped a bag.

Wham. Slammed to the ground, he spit dirt from his mouth. A punch to his kidney caused him to tighten his gut and pull his arms tight against his sides. The attacker shuffled off and away. John scrambled to his knees and popped up to both feet.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up now!”

“Brian? What the...” He wiped the dirt from his face just in time to block a punch. His hands automatically formed fists. He resisted throwing his right at the last minute, but his shoulder momentum took him a step closer to his brother. “Cut it out or find yourself on the ground.”

“Yeah, who’s going to put me there? Oh, right, the son who’s been gone twelve years. Think you can take me with all your fancy military training?”

John couldn’t start his return home by teaching Brian a lesson. He relaxed his body enough to appear nonthreatening, but didn’t lose eye contact. Brian would always give his punches away by dropping his gaze to the ground before he swung. Better to avoid being hit than make things worse by hitting back.

“Come on, man, I just got here,” he said. Home for fifteen minutes and already he’d been slapped and eaten a face full of dirt. His lower back didn’t feel all that great, either.

“That’s the point. Dad’s stroke was over a week ago.”

“No excuses. I was on a mission and got here as soon as I could. How is he?”

“Busy saving strangers and can’t be bothered at home.” Brian grabbed a fifty-pound bag of feed, throwing it to his shoulder like a bulky pillow, then stomped toward the shed. “Go see for yourself. Alicia usually leaves him in front of the television.”

Guess it wasn’t the right time to remind his brother he’d called a couple of dozen times in the past two days. John rubbed his side, then his jaw, and dusted some of the dirt from his body. What a welcome.

“Dad?” He pushed the screen door open with the hesitation of entering the unknown. He didn’t know what to expect. Light on his feet, soundlessly moving through the kitchen and sitting room, he was afraid of what he’d find in front of the loud television.

A severe stroke ten days ago when he’d been working horses. That’s all John knew. He’d left messages on his dad’s cell, but no one had called back. His dad kept him up-to-date. Sad, but he didn’t know his brother’s number.

Bad communication skills were nothing new before he’d left for the navy. More bad habits had formed when he’d been in training and not allowed to call. Then long missions with no communication. Different time zones. Easy after that to avoid calling home by just being too busy—or pretending to be. His father had accepted the excuses. His brother had told him never to look back and meant it.

He was a different man. They both were. They had time to fix what was wrong. Later.

Right now it was about his dad—who was asleep in a wheelchair in a room that no longer resembled his mother’s favorite in the house. Full of a hospital bed, pulleys, a portable toilet and other medical stuff, everything familiar had been removed. There was a flat-screen TV hanging on the wall.

He heard the water running in the kitchen behind him and jerked around, surprised Brian had entered without making a sound.

“Dad, wake up.” Brian shoved a shoulder into John as he passed. His angry twin turned a gentle hand to touch their dad’s shoulder and not startle him awake. “John’s home.”

He understood the pain. His brother had a right to be upset, from the serious look of things. He’d been here taking care of the ranch and their dad. Alone.

The last time they’d been face-to-face, they were skinny kids eating their dad out of a ton of groceries. Identical twins who could have passed for each other—and had fooled more than a teacher or two. Not to mention the girls. There were differences now. The most obvious was their hair. His was the navy regulation, high and tight over his ears. Brian’s was longish, touching his collar.

John knew the tense jaw-clenching muscle all too well. Strange seeing what it looked like to others. Their bodies were toned from different types of exercises—his PT and Brian’s ranch work. Weird that they still looked so much alike.

“I got here as soon as I could. I had no idea,” John apologized. He would not complain about the lack of information provided by his brother. It would just upset his dad.

“That’s an understatement,” Brian mumbled.

His dad shook his head. Upset. Brian patted his shoulder. “I know, Dad. I told you I’d explain things when he got here.”

He kept his mouth shut, stunned at the fright he saw in his father’s eyes. The stroke had left him paralyzed. He couldn’t talk. Brian lifted a straw to the left side of his dad’s mouth and patiently waited, that angry gleam still in his eyes when he connected with John.

“Dad had a stroke and was lucky to survive. Recovery’s going to take a while, but he’s doing great.” He put the mug on the table. “Looks like Alicia wore you out as usual, old man. Time for a nap, right?”

Brian moved swiftly. John moved in to help but was waved off. In two shakes, J. W. Sloane was back in bed. Brian maneuvered him quickly and with the same calm ease he handled troubled animals.

“I got this. Go get cleaned up and I’ll get him settled. I’m sure you have things to explain.”

Things hadn’t changed; his brother issued orders for him to follow. And just like every day of his life, he followed orders well. Stowing his gear back in a room that hadn’t changed except for the layers of dust, he wondered if the day would ever come where he’d be deciding his own fate.

Chapter Two

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Mommy! Mommy! Look, I’m a princess.”

Alicia Ann Adams watched her four-year-old daughter run across the playroom, dodging toys and playmates. Her yellow sunflower dress had a purple stain on the front—most likely grape jam from a snack. She lifted her over the gate guard in her day-care room to squeeze her close. “What did you do today?”

“We painted and dressed up. I was a princess and gots to wear the crown all the time.”

“Well, that was appropriate for my very own Princess Lauren. Did you put your toys away?”

“The other girls are still playing with everything, Alicia. Don’t worry about it this time.”

She put Lauren down, dreading the next part of the conversation. “Go pick up a bit, sweetie. I need to talk with Miss Mary.”

“Is something wrong?” asked the woman responsible for her daughter’s daily care.

Mary Fitz had owned and run the day care forever. Alicia had stayed here before starting kindergarten, and had worked here in high school. There was nowhere else she wanted her daughter to stay. Which made not being able to pay Mary all the more difficult.

“I’m afraid tomorrow’s our last day. It isn’t fair to ask you to let Lauren stay when I can’t pay you, Mary.” What was she going to do? She couldn’t take Lauren with her to her clients’ homes, and she had to work.

“Nonsense. I’ve told you before just pay me when you can. I trust you. I know what you’re going through. Working on your own to spend more time with your daughter is admirable, dear. Starting this place wasn’t easy, either. Everyone thought I was a crazy widow. So don’t fret. She’s safe here.” Mary turned back to the children. “Lauren, time to go, sweetheart.”

Alicia was going to cry. She hadn’t been able to think of Dwayne without all the problems he’d left when he’d died four years ago. Leaving her with a newborn and without a will had created chaos in a once-happy life. Those thoughts seemed utterly ridiculous compared to his death. Nevertheless, they were true.

The tears were building, so she pressed the palms of her hands to her closed eyes, attempting to stop the waterworks. Mary had saved her life. Again.

“It won’t be too long. I have to drive a bit farther, but there are two more patients in Sanger.”

“It’s really not a problem, Alicia. I’m glad to help.” She lifted Lauren over the doorway gate. “She had so much fun playing princess today. Such an imagination. Keep the crown, sweetie.”

“Say bye-bye to Miss Mary.” They both waved to one of the nicest people left in their lives. “See you tomorrow.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t branching out on her own willingly like Mary thought. She’d been forced to resign from the Denton hospital.

After years with a spotless record, her patients’ exit questionnaires were suddenly full of mysterious complaints. Complaints that had all begun at the same time Dwayne’s trust fund was frozen and her mother-in-law sought control.

Coincidence?

And then an anonymous caller said they’d witnessed her selling drugs. Anonymous? Not hardly. It has to be Shauna.

She’d never believed anyone could be that cruel. Especially family. She didn’t want to believe Shauna, her mother-in-law, was responsible for the loss of her job at Denton Regional. But if she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have known about Alicia’s dismissal and wouldn’t have filed for custody of Lauren the same day.

Ugh. I certainly wish I wasn’t forced to refer to her as my mother-in-law.

Dwayne had never called Shauna Weber his stepmother. She was the same age and had even gone on a couple of dates with him their junior year. She’d married a man two years younger only four months after Dwayne’s father had died.

Think about the extra time you have with Lauren today.

With only a couple of home clients on her Monday schedule, she should be rejoicing about the light load and playing with her daughter. But a light load meant light money. Next on her list was to speak with her landlord. He’d be upset splitting the rent again, but her paychecks just weren’t large enough for her to get a couple of weeks ahead.

A real shame they couldn’t head straight to the park, but it was 107 degrees outside. Almost as hot in the car, even with the AC on high. Store first, then dinner, then a cooler playtime on the swings before her bath.

It was hard to enjoy anything. She was still shaking. Money—or the lack of it—always got her this way. Then throw in what happened with Johnny and she was a nervous wreck.

How in the world had she ever thought she could welcome him home? She could still feel the sting of that slap on her hands. Feel the strength in his arms around her waist. Feel the tingle down her spine from kissing him.

She glanced in the rearview mirror to watch Lauren playing in her car seat.

It had been a major mistake kissing him. Really kissing him. Add a shot of guilt and disloyalty to her deceased husband, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. If Johnny didn’t know how she felt about his return before—he did now. Well, there was always the possibility he might be as thickheaded as when he’d left. Was he the only thing she could think about?