SEAL'd Perfection Book 4 Read online

  SEAL’d Perfection

  Book 4

  By

  KB Winters

  Copyright © 2015 BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination and have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  SEAL’d Perfection - Book 4

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Dedication

  Chapter One — Kat

  Chapter Two — Jace

  Chapter Three — Kat

  Chapter Four — Kat

  Chapter Five — Kat

  Chapter Six — Jace

  Chapter Seven — Kat

  Chapter Eight — Kat

  Chapter Nine — Jace

  Chapter Ten — Kat

  Free Book!

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the brave men and women of our armed services who put their life on the line everyday to protect our freedom.

  Thank you for your service.

  ~ KB

  Chapter One — Kat

  “And in other news, the Chicago Zoo has some new additions in their penguin exhibit! Stick around after the break to meet the new chicks!”

  I huffed and flicked off the TV with a decisive smashing of the buttons on the remote control. When the screen faded to black, I tossed the remote to the couch, sighing when it bounced off and landed on the floor. God, when did everything turn to shit around here? I wondered to myself as I stooped to pick up the device from the floor. I sank into the couch cushions and rubbed my temples. I wasn’t really an avid news watcher, but since Jace left a month ago on a top secret mission, I found myself watching every broadcast I could, with the hope that some story would pop out and I could decode it somehow and figure out where Jace was and what he was doing with his SEAL team.

  Not like I’d be able to do anything about it. Knowing where he was, and what he was doing, might make me feel a little better, but it wasn’t going to bring him home any faster.

  “Ugh, get it together Kat,” I pleaded with myself, pinching my eyes closed.

  After a moment, I pushed off the couch and gathered the stack of dirty dishes that had been gradually taking over the coffee table. My ordinarily neat—minus any toddler interference—townhome had turned into a bit of a pig pen over the past weeks. Without Jax and Jace around, life had become an endless shuffle, work, home, school, and home again, and somewhere in the middle of it all, I’d lost the motivation to really care if the dishes were done every night, or the junk mail got shredded, or the carpet got vacuumed.

  I set the stack in the sink and pulled up on the handle to pour some hot water down, letting it run for a few minutes, before I realized I hadn’t put the stopper in and the water was all rushing down the drain. I bashed the handle down, ceasing the flow, and stalked out of the kitchen, too irritated and edgy to clean. It was my night without school and I had no idea what to do with myself for the rest of the evening. I had two days until my scheduled visitation with Jax—a once a week ritual, thanks to the biased mediator that had presided over the meeting I had with Mitch—and decided to clean the following night. Before I fully realized what I was doing, I’d flicked the TV back on and was scanning the channels to see if there were any news shows I’d previously missed, or to see if there were any late additions to the lineup, perhaps a breaking story from the Middle East, something to do with hostages and an esteemed SEAL team.…

  I knew I was being insane, but that realization didn’t really make much of a difference, as I spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch, bouncing back and forth between five different channels, praying for a sign of Jace and his team.

  As per the new normal, I went to bed alone, in an empty house, cut off and isolated from anyone and everything, tossing and turning until my mind finally released me from the constant churning’s that filled my days, and let me shift to the memory of what it had felt like to fall asleep locked in Jace’s arms.

  * * * *

  Ever since the mediation session, Friday afternoon’s had become the anchor of my week, the thing which all other activity revolved around. Watching Jax totter up the stairs to the front door, a huge smile on his face, as he screamed “Mama!” at the top of his miniature lungs, warmed my heart and when he fell into my arms and let me gather him close, for a split second, everything else melted away and the world felt right again.

  But the illusion was shattered another second later, when I opened my eyes to find Mitch, my ex-husband, hulking over the top of us, his eyes trained on me like I was some kind of threat.

  “Here’s his bag,” he grumbled that Friday, shoving Jax’s blue and orange backpack into my hands as I stood from embracing our little son. “I put Mickey in the backyard.”

  It was all I could do to hold back a snarl. Nothing he said merited hostility, and yet the very sight of him turned my stomach with a sharp stab of hatred.

  When Mitch understood that I had nothing to say in reply, he gave a slight nod. “I’ll be back to pick him up in the morning. Have him ready by nine.”

  The hate melted into the bottomless pit in my stomach, and I bit down on the insides of my cheeks to keep from tearing up in front of him. I’d cried like a baby when the mediator told me that I would be getting once weekly, overnight visitation with Jax until we could take the case before a judge and hash out a new arrangement. With Jace’s help, I’d hired one of the fiercest lawyers from Chicago, who was prepared to fight my case, but unfortunately, couldn’t do anything until the court date, which was still six weeks away. In the meantime, I was resigned to a sliver of time with my baby, from Friday afternoon to Saturday morning.

  “Jax, baby, come say goodbye,” I called behind me to my little man, who had already opened the sliding glass door to let in his beloved playmate, Mickey the over exuberant Golden Retriever.

  “Bye-bye!” He yelled over his shoulder, laughing when Mickey barked in agreement.

  “See you in the morning, buddy,” Mitch called past my shoulder. He gave me one last look and then turned to go back down the stairs to his fancy sports car that he’d left idling along the curb across the street. I peered through narrowed eyes to spot Hannah—his knocked up mistress-turned-wife, sitting in the passenger seat. I watched him get into the car and then shut the door before he had a chance to pull around and see me standing on the porch.

  I gave myself a minute to breath, collecting myself, before going into the living room to join Jax in whatever new game he’d made up in the last five minutes. I needed to put away all the drama and focus on enjoying the time with my son, especially since there was so little of it anymore.

  Jax and Mickey had made short work of ripping off the cushions from the couch and chair, turning them end to end on the floor to make a wall. I laughed and squat down beside him. “What
’s all this?” I asked, ruffling his hair.

  “It’s a castle!” He squealed, obviously delighted with his achievement. His proud voice and puffed out chest melted away the rest of my anxiety and enabled me to shift into playtime mode with Jax as we spent the rest of the afternoon playing princess and dragon in the living room.

  It wasn’t until dinner time that the happy bubble that had formed to insulate my heart, took a hit. I set down a plate of chicken fingers for Jax, and was about to fix a plate for myself, when I heard Jax’s little voice asking me a question. I poked my head around the corner. “What did you say, sweetheart?”

  “Where’s my friend?” He repeated, his little hands up in the air, as though pointing to the empty chairs on either side of his.

  I knew who he was talking about without even asking, but for whatever reason, couldn’t help from asking, “Who?”

  “Friend Jace!” He shouted.

  He hadn’t asked about Jace in a while, and as I studied his puzzled expression, wondered what had made him think to ask about him, when I saw the leather jacket hanging on the opposite chair from his. Jace had left it behind the morning he left. I’d kept it in the bedroom for the first few weeks, finding comfort in the scent of it, but had moved it to the back of the dining chair a few days earlier in an effort to stop thinking about him so much.

  Not that it had worked. No, not even close.

  “Jace is on a special trip,” I told Jax, setting my own plate on the table and sitting down into the chair next to the one Jax was in that had his booster seat attached to it. I glanced at Jace’s jacket on the back of the other chair and for a moment found it hard to breath, my every fiber constricting with want, wishing he was just down the hall washing up to join us for the meal.

  “Can we go too, mama?” Jax asked.

  “Not right now, sweetheart. Come on, let’s eat before our chicken gets cold.” I led by example, dredging the crispy piece of chicken through the ketchup on my plate, and nibbling the edge, even though my appetite was non-existent.

  Luckily, Jax followed along, digging into his own food and didn’t ask about Jace for the rest of the night.

  That night, when I went to bed, I took Jace’s jacket with me.

  Chapter Two — Jace

  The only thing worse than being torn away from Kat, was the swift realization that it had potentially all been for nothing. After a week of prepping for the mission, the rest of my team and I’d been sent to wait for further orders aboard a Naval Aircraft Carrier off the coast of Africa.

  And waited was all we’d fucking done.

  Each day that dragged on left me more and more agitated. The government was trying to continue negotiations, and after several false starts, where we’d been suited up, ready for the green light, the terrorist group holding the hostages was still dragging out their demands. The only good thing was that, so far, none of the hostages—an assortment of journalists and humanitarians who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time—had been harmed.

  “Winslow, for fuck’s sake, sit down. You look like a fuckin’ tiger about to rip off someone’s face,” Senior Chief Petty Officer Gerard snapped in my direction.

  “All due respect, sir, but that’s pretty much how I feel. What the hell are we even doing here?” I asked, whirling around on the heel of my boot to stalk in the other direction. Our quarters were pretty tight and if I had to pick an image for the way I was feeling, a caged tiger was spot on. “These suits act like they need us, but then, once they drag us out here, ground us and won’t let us go in and do our job!”

  Senior Chief Gerard just looked at me, his expression unchanged. “Sit. Down.”

  I sank onto the nearest bunk but held his gaze, waiting for an answer.

  “This isn’t my first rodeo, and it isn’t yours either. What the hell’s got you so jacked right now?”

  Before I could answer, my buddy, Petty Officer Kyle Brown waltzed into the room. Kyle was a cool guy, but the way he strutted around, like he’d just won Homecoming King annoyed the piss outta me. In that moment, he had the shit eating grin to match. “Winslow’s got a woman these days, he’s not annoyed—his dick is. Missing that sweet pu—”

  I flew at him, slamming him into the door before he could keep running his mouth. He laughed and tried to shrug me off. His eyes went a little wide when he realized I wasn’t loosening my grip on his shoulders. “Hey, man, I was just playin’,” he said, shoving against me.

  “Winslow, back off,” Gerard barked.

  I waited for two more heartbeats and then let Kyle go. Kyle shrugged his shoulders and shot me a glare before sinking down into the bunk opposite me. “What the fuck, dude? The fact that you’re dating someone a state secret or something? Shit.”

  I heaved out a long breath. What is wrong with me? I am seriously losing it cooped up on this fucking ship.

  “Man, I don’t know,” I started, looking down at my hands as though they’d betrayed me somehow with their rash actions.

  Kyle shrugged again, letting me off the hook for coming up with an answer. We’d been friends since basic training, and had more than a couple clashes under our belts, enough to know that we were cool. “Chief Jenkin’s looking for you.” With a grimace, Senior Chief Gerard peeled himself out of the chair he’d been occupying and left the room, muttering something under his breath. When he was gone, Kyle trained his attention back to me. “All right, what’s up?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, man. I’m feeling claustrophobic I guess.”

  “We’ve done this a dozen times before. If it’s not about the girl, then what?”

  I growled, hating the twist in my gut I got whenever I thought about Kat for too long. “She’s got a kid. And she’s going through a lot with her ex. I know this is the gig, but getting ripped out of real life like this was the worst possible timing, and now, we’re stuck here in the middle of the fucking ocean, and I haven’t been able to talk to her or even send an email to see how things are going with the custody battle and all that. I just have to know she’s okay.”

  Kyle stared at me, silent for a moment, before his grin returned. “Holy shit, Winslow. You are in love!” He followed that up with the sound of a whip cracking and I was ready to lunge at him again. Before I could get up, Kyle pulled something out of his pocket and flashed it in front of me, the silver device shimmering in the fluorescent lights. “Chill, bro. I’m just messing with ya. Here, it’s yours for the night.” He tossed me the phone and I snatched it out of the air like a cat catching a fly.

  “How did you get this?” I asked. Normally we weren’t allowed to keep our personal phones on us when we were in the field.

  Kyle shrugged. “Gerard said I needed to be able to talk to my family. Leah’s about to pop any day now, so he gave me a pass.”

  I smiled at him and for the first time since getting the bone chilling news about the mission, felt a rush of pure happiness. “Thanks man, I’ll get it back to you later.”

  Kyle shrugged and then got off the bunk, leaving the room so I could be alone. I tapped the screen, orienting myself with the layout of the apps, and then found the phone option. With my free hand, I dug into my pocket, pulling out the small picture that Kat had given me right before I’d left. It was a Christmas picture of her and Jax that they’d had taken at some shop in the mall the year before. I smiled at Jax’s happy face, his cheeks chubby and rosy, with a toothy grin as he looked up at Kat. I traced the lines of Kat’s face, aching to reach through the photo and run my fingers over her smooth skin. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I flipped the picture over and dialed the number she’d scrawled on the back. I held my breath and pushed the call button, lying back on the bunk as the line rang.

  With each subsequent ring, my heart sank a little lower, and when the robot voice came on to tell me we’d been disconnected, , it took every ounce of willpower not to throw the phone against the opposite wall.

  “Fuck!”

  The message cut off and the line wen
t dead. “Shit!” I growled. I sat up and stumbled through the international number again—but then shook my head against the idea. On the back of the picture, Kat had also written her email address. I knew I only had a few more minutes until we’d all need to meet to go over whatever new developments there were with the mission. That was a given anytime the Senior Chief had to meet with Andre Welsh, the CIA liaison working with us. And, as a general rule, the longer their meeting went, the more pissed the Senior Chief would be when he got to us. Being late wouldn’t be wise.

  I stared at the blank email page, suddenly at a loss for words. I’d spent the last few weeks mentally listing things I wanted to share with Kat, or questions I wanted to ask her, and yet, when given the chance, my mind was as empty as the illuminated screen of the phone.

  After a few minutes, my fingers loosened, and I started typing in a frantic, rat-a-tat-tat rhythms, spilling out everything like it was a race against the clock to get everything out at once.

  A knock on the door let me know I’d officially run out of time. I hit send, hating that I hadn’t been able to get a second pass to polish up what had turned into a lengthy, stream of conscious type message.

  Hopefully she would understand.

  Chapter Three — Kat

  The week dragged on, but eventually, Friday rolled around again, and after getting off work early, I’d been camped out at Hilda’s to kill time and keep my mind occupied, waiting for Jax to be dropped off.

  “Honey, I’ll just never understand where that pipsqueak of a man found the balls to do this to you…” she railed, as she filled up the tea pot to make us both a cup. She hated the new custody arrangement just as much as I did, and although she tried to keep her ranting to a minimum, she threw in some barbs about Mitch whenever we talked, as her own way of venting her feelings.

  “I don’t know,” I moaned, my face buried in my arms as I lay my head down on her table. “I just have to hang in there for another five weeks. Then we will have the trial, and my new lawyer can stomp all over him…At least, that’s how I like to picture it in my head.”