Page 15 of A SEAL's Heart
He wanted me here, so I’ll stay for now. But it doesn’t feel right to sleep in any of the bedrooms on his good bedding. I take the narrow steps to the attic.
I push open the door, and a layer of dust swirls in the air. Shona’s cleaning activity didn’t make it up this far.
Storage boxes and sports gear fill the place. A pair of skis prop up against one corner, and a climbing rope and harness lie next to them.
I slide some boxes around, clearing space on the floor.
He stacked his camping gear in a corner, and I rummage through it until I find a camping mattress. This is a better place for me.
I unfold the camping mattress and clear a space for it on the floor. I’ll grab my sleeping bag and other belongings from the shack, and this will do me just fine.
It’s a warm place to stay until I can figure all this out. I’ll convince Shona and Donald to take the house, or Avery. I doubt Amos will want it. He’s probably already on his way back to base.
But this will do until I can figure out my next move.
I’ll give the house to the family, heal my jaw, and get the fuck out of here. I’ll do the speech therapy to keep my doctor and Avery happy. And I’ll ignore the way my dick stirs to life whenever Avery is around. I’ll bury those feelings down deep and stay away from Avery Monroe as much as possible.
I pull back the curtains of the window and peer out at my view.
Across the road is the Monroe house. From three stories up, I’m looking down at the garden, at the top of the magnolia tree out front and Shona’s rose bushes that provide splashes of bright color on the green lawn. My gaze moves up the house and to the rooms on the same level as me.
Their house is larger, a family home with three levels. My window looks straight across to one of the bedrooms. The wallpaper is a light mauve color and there are posters of bands and colorful pictures on the wall.
There’s movement in the room, and on instinct I crouch out of their line of vision. A person comes into view wrapped in a bath towel. Her shoulders are bare, and she has bunched her blond hair into a messy knot on top of her head. My breath hitches. I’m staring straight into the bedroom of Avery Monroe.
8
AVERY
Light rain mists up the living room window, making the house across the street appear hazy. It’s been two days since the will reading, and I haven’t seen Ed come out of Jake’s house. Ed’s house, I remind myself.
If it wasn’t for the dim glow of orange light coming from the attic, I’d assume the place was still empty.
“Have you decided what to do with it yet, hon?” Mom leans on the back of the chair next to me.
I draw my gaze away from the house across the street and glance at my laptop. Numbers dance on the page, and I rub my eyes.
I’ve been trying to get my head around the investments Jake left me. I didn’t know he was putting so much money away. The house, the investments. My brother planned for a future he’ll never get to have.
Mom’s hand rests on my shoulder, and the warmth of her touch is comforting.
I’m glad I moved back here when I took the job at Hope Medical Center. I haven’t lived with my parents since before I went away to college, and staying here was supposed to be temporary. But I’m in no hurry to move out now. I couldn’t leave Mom and Dad on their own, and I’m glad they’re here. We’re going through our grief together and comforting each other.
I glance out at the dark house across the road. Who does Ed have to comfort him?
Jake told me once that Ed grew up in foster care. I can’t imagine what that’s like. Ed has lost his best friend and his career. I won’t let him go through this alone.
I push my chair back and stand up. “I’m going across the road.”
Mom smiles. “I told Ed he was welcome here anytime, but I know his type. He won’t come over without an invitation. Invite him for diner tomorrow night, honey. It will be nice to have the company.”
The gate swings open too wide, and I flinch as it bangs against the fence. If Ed didn’t see me coming, he’ll have heard me now. It shouldn’t make me nervous, but my stomach flutters as I take the path to Jake’s house. Ed’s house.
In one hand is the peace lily I picked up at the store yesterday as a housewarming gift. With the other hand, I knock on the door. It opens immediately, and my stomach does a double flip. Ed takes up the entire door frame. His dark hair falls in shaggy waves over his eyes, and there’s a layer of stubble over his chin. It doesn’t cover the long scar from the surgery.
He stares at me with his intense brooding gaze that draws me in like a magnet.
“Hi,” I say.
