Page 45 of Married to a SEAL

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Did I just hurt you?” she asked, pulling back.

“I’m fine,” he said in a low voice, his blue eyes warming as he wrapped his muscular arms around her and pulled her close. His large hand cradled the back of her head as he held her to his chest, and she inhaled his clean, masculine scent, instantly relaxing into his solid warmth. “If an IED couldn’t take me out, neither can you.”

She burst into tears.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t cry,” he said, running a hand down her hair. “I was just teasing you.”

She looked up and met his gaze as hot tears continued to fall down her cheeks, and then he was ducking down and kissing her, thumbing away her tears. He tasted of peppermint and something else that was pure Patrick, and she kissed him deeply, not caring that anyone else in the office might walk in and see. His full lips moved over hers again, equally soft and demanding, and then his tongue slowly sought entrance between her parted lips.

He caressed his tongue against hers, leaving her gasping for breath as he held her.

Finally he pulled away, both of them breathing heavily.

Her hands slid down his chest, feeling the bandages beneath his tee shirt. He held perfectly still, his gaze fixed on her movement.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Hell no. I’ve dreamed of kissing you, touching you. That’s what kept me going. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

“But when did you get here? How? I thought you were supposed to be at Walter Reed?”

“I told them I needed to be home in time for your doctor’s appointment,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smile. “I almost made it, too. Traffic was hell.”

“But how? I thought you’d be up at Walter Reed for a few weeks. They told me you were flying there today.”

“My stitches are healing perfectly. My ribs are still broken, so I’ll be moving extra slowly for a while. And I’ll have to do physical therapy for six weeks minimum. But they discharged me from the hospital. I can rest at home just as well as in a hospital bed at this point.”

“But shouldn’t you be at home in bed right now?”

“Nope. I’ve been up walking around all week slowly getting my energy back. I mean, I won’t exactly be doing PT every morning—well, not the military version anyway. Physical therapy on the other hand will keep me busy for a while. I was pretty damn lucky, to tell you the truth. They flew me into Andrew’s AFB this morning, but Blade came and picked me up. We just drove all the way down. That damn beach traffic made it longer than expected.”

Her eyes raked over him again, scanning for further injuries. He was standing slightly stiffer than normal, and she knew he had to be in some pain. But for a man who’d been airlifted to a hospital in Germany after sustaining injuries on the battlefield, he looked pretty damn good. “I can’t believe you’re here—that this is real. I feel like I’ve been waiting so long to see you. You must be exhausted after that long flight. And the time difference?”

Patrick shrugged, wincing at the movement. “I’m used to sleeping on planes. I actually slept an hour in Blade’s pick-up truck, too, on the drive down. The meds I’ve been on the past couple of weeks totally wiped me out. It feels better to be taking plain old ibuprofen at this point. And I’m still finishing up antibiotics to make sure I don’t have an infection.”

“Where are you stitches?”

“Right here,” he said, gesturing to his side. “Between that and the broken ribs, I won’t be doing any heavy lifting for a while. Or driving.”

“I can drive you around. And I’ll drive you to physical therapy in the morning. We’ll hire packers and movers this summer to get Abby and I moved in. I didn’t even tell you that I met with the realtor again.”

“Sweetheart, there’s an entire SEAL team that can move you and Abby into my place. They can pack up your stuff, too. We don’t need to hire anyone.”

“Oh, we can’t ask the guys on the team—”

“It’s already a done deal. Blade insisted when he picked me up. Hell, I appreciate the help. And the fact that those guys were looking out for you when I couldn’t. They know we’d do the same for them. I have done it,” he added with a low chuckle. “I’m not really used to leaning on the others for physical help like this, but if it’ll get you living with me faster, I’m all for it.”

“All right. Wow. This is just—it’s just too much. I still can’t believe that you’re even here. I thought I’d be driving the kids up to Walter Reed for a few weeks to see you. Holy crap,” she said, suddenly glancing around. “I have to get to court! Where are the papers I needed?”

Patrick cleared his throat. “That was sort of a guise to get you back in the office quicker. My idea,” he added. “When I called your assistant earlier, she told me you had the afternoon free. Apparently, the court time did get changed by the judge—to next week.”

“And you wanted to meet me here in the office?” she asked with a laugh.

“I was actually planning to meet you at the doctor—I wanted to surprise you there and get to see what the doctor said about the baby.”

“Oh! I have the ultrasound. Wait, where’s my purse?” she asked, looking around.

“You can show me in a minute,” Patrick said, taking her hand. He lightly ran his thumb over her knuckles, and she shivered, loving the way he always made her come undone with a single touch.