Loving the Navy Seal Read online

  Loving the Navy Seal

  Hidden Hollows Book 5

  Lynn Shannon

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  More from Sweet Heart Books

  1

  Sara

  Sara Wilson needed a dozen cupcakes, a strong dose of caffeine—preferably a double mocha latte—and several thousand dollars. In that order.

  What she did not need was a man. Unfortunately, the town busybodies didn’t agree. At least once a week, a well-meaning interloper came into the Hidden Hollows library armed with a matchmaking suggestion. Oh, it was done under the guise of returning and checking out books, but Sara was convinced they merely came to torture her.

  “A sweet, pretty woman like you deserves happiness.” Marie Jenkins stared at Sara over the top of her reading glasses. Her hair was nestled in a bun at the top of her head, several wisps of silver hair drifting around her wrinkled face. “There’s a new junior high teacher in town. Carl Jacobs. He’s very handsome and single.”

  “Not anymore,” Jennie, Sara’s assistant librarian, piped up. “Carl is dating someone from the next town over.”

  Thank goodness. Sara shot Jennie a grateful look, and the other woman smiled in sympathy.

  Marie dumped a pile of romance novels on the counter. “You see? You see there, Sara? If you don’t jump on the good ones, they get scooped up.”

  Sara sighed, reaching for her scanner to check the items out. “Mrs. Jenkins, I had the best man a woman could ask for.”

  The older woman patted her hand. “I know, dear. But it’s been three years. Don’t you think it’s time to try for love again? Jared would want you to be happy.”

  The words stabbed like a dagger in her gut. Jared would want her to be happy. And secretly, in the quiet hours at night, after she’d put her little boy to bed, Sara longed to find love again.

  But right now, life was far too overwhelming to even attempt dating. She had a five-year-old to take care of and a library to keep afloat. Romance was better left in the novels. There everyone got a happy ending. No one ended up widowed and broken-hearted.

  She finished scanning Mrs. Jenkins’ books. Then she picked up a flyer from the counter. “Have you heard about our new events? For the next two weeks, we’re hosting a Celebration of Reading.”

  “Oh yes, dear.” The older woman nodded. “It was quite the discussion yesterday during our quilting circle. Everyone is excited.”

  Sara smiled, handing her a few more flyers. “Please, spread the word. We want the whole community to participate.”

  Mrs. Jenkins left, flyers and books in hand.

  Jennie swiveled in her chair. “Sounds like your plan is working. The Celebration of Reading, I mean.” She grinned. “Not dodging the matchmaking crowd. That’s a losing battle.”

  Sara placed a hand on her hip. “Oh, don’t smile at me like a Cheshire cat. You’re thrilled they can’t try their hand at you now that you’re an old married lady.”

  “An old married lady with a baby on the way.” She leaned back and rubbed her pregnant belly. Eight months along, and it looked like she’d swallowed a basketball. “Ugh, can’t this sweet girl get here already? She’s stomping on my bladder.”

  Sara laughed. “When I was pregnant with Ben, I swear he used to stick his toes in my ribcage and play it like an instrument.”

  “Don’t you dare do that to me, baby.” Jennie instructed her tummy, then glanced at Sara. “Seriously, do you think the Celebration of Reading events will convince the city council to continue funding the library?”

  “That’s the plan. Mayor Stewart has been positive and supportive.” Sara pulled a cart over to the return box and started loading books. “She loves community events like this. Convincing her to be on our side will go a long way with the city council.”

  The alternative? It was too horrible to contemplate. The library her grandmother started fifty years ago, and gifted to the community, would shut down if the city council decided to cut their funds. Sara had to save it. For practical reasons and sentimental ones. There wasn’t any other choice.

  “Jennie, go home.” Sara glanced at her watch. Four o’clock. The library closed early on Mondays. “You look beat. I can handle things for the next half an hour.”

  She made a face. “Are you sure?”

  Sara couldn’t tell if Jennie was upset about getting off early or too tired to think about moving. Probably the latter. “Absolutely. Need help getting out of the chair?”

  “That I can still do.” Jennie hefted herself to her feet. “Tying my shoes, however, is a different story. Oh, don’t forget to stop by the bakery and pick up cupcakes for Ben’s baseball practice tonight.”

  “Right.” Sara grabbed a pen and wrote a note on her hand. “I have to make up for last week when I forgot the snacks. And the juice. Not to mention yesterday, I neglected to pack his favorite mitt for practice. It’s a wonder Ben still talks to me.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re a great mom.”

  Sara appreciated the words of encouragement, but there were a lot of crinkles in her Supermom cape recently. She waved goodbye to Jennie and then wheeled the book cart down the main aisle.

  As head librarian, she could delegate reshelving the returned books, but there was something innately comforting about doing the job herself. She loved seeing what the patrons were reading. Adored running her fingers over the worn shelves. Enjoyed the muted noise of other people nearby.

  For twenty minutes, she strolled the aisles. The teenagers working on a school project in the back corner left, as did the mom and her daughter in the children’s section. Stillness and quiet wrapped around Sara.

  She steered over to the romance section and plucked one of the books off the cart. The embracing couple on the cover tugged at her emotions.

  She missed Jared. Every day.

  He hadn’t just been her husband; he’d been her first love and high school sweetheart. His death from an aneurysm had crushed her. Three years later, the sharp edge of Sara’s grief had morphed into a dull ache. Loneliness had seeped into the crevices of her life.

  But actually date again? Sara’s nose wrinkled. The idea of romance was far more attractive than actually trying to find it. Sometimes Sara wished she could be like the heroines in her beloved books. Sharp-witted and flirty. Reckless at times. Gorgeous in that make-a-man-turn-his-head kind of way. But she wasn’t.

  She was quiet and stuttered when nervous. Her hair was a riot of curls that refused to be tamed, and she never made it through a day without getting dirt or food of some kind on her blouse.

  And her heart had been broken. Shattered into a thousand pieces and taped back together. There were jagged edges and small holes. It wasn’t perfect, and Sara feared she would never love with total abandon again. Having lost her husband, and knowing what she did now, had irreparably changed her.

  If all of that wasn’t enough to give her pause, there was Ben to consider. Anyone she dated would be a part of her son’s life too. It wasn’t something to take lightly.

  Sara sighed and slipped the book onto the correct shelf. Right now, she had more than enough on her plate. There wasn’t a white knight waiting in the wings to ride in and fix her life. No, love was messy and comp
licated. And not something she needed.

  Being a good mom. Saving the library.

  Those were the only two priorities she had.

  2

  Grant

  Grant Edwards took a long look at his childhood home across the street. It’d been ten years since he saw it last, and time had weathered it. The one-story clapboard was in need of a fresh coat of paint. Weeds marched across the cracks in the driveway, and the flowerbeds were overrun.

  Behind him, the slap of a screen door preceded his Aunt Suzie’s footsteps. His aunt had lived across the street from his parents his whole life. Widowed, without children of her own, Aunt Suzie had been his third parent.

  She came up next to him on the walkway. “It’s not going to get any easier.”

  “I know that.”

  Grant was no stranger to difficult missions. As a Navy SEAL, he made the impossible possible. But convincing his mother to enter treatment for her depression and hoarding was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  Grant guzzled the water from the plastic bottle in his hand. It’d taken him four days to get to Hidden Hollows, which was quick considering he’d been on the other side of the world. That meant three planes and a long car ride from his base in Virginia. He’d only been in town an hour, but already Grant wanted to be with his Navy SEAL comrades on a new mission.

  He finished the water, still feeling as parched as the dried leaves fluttering across Aunt Suzie’s yard. The brochure for the treatment center was a weight in his back pocket. “Does Mom know I’m coming?”

  “No.” Suzie sighed. “I wasn’t sure when you’d get here so I haven’t said anything.”

  He nodded. Grant crumpled the water bottle and started across the street, pausing long enough to toss the plastic container in the recycling bin.

  Dread churned in his stomach as he climbed the front porch. His boots thumped against the worn wood. Grant’s hand paused on the doorknob. He didn’t consider himself a coward. He’d been to war and back, and he had the scars to prove it. But navigating the relationship with his mother was like walking through a minefield blind.

  The only easy day was yesterday.

  The Navy SEAL motto had never been more true.

  He took a deep breath and opened the door. “Mom, it’s me. Grant.”

  The blinds were drawn, casting the house in shadows. Boxes accumulated on the couch in the living room. Magazines were stacked in neat piles along the far wall. The scents of stale food and dust assaulted his nose. On his left, the dining room table was covered with different kinds of china. Some of the pieces rested on the floor and in the chairs.

  A shuffling came from the kitchen, and his mother appeared. April was wearing a bathrobe. The roots of her hair were gray, fading into a dark brown from her last dye job. Her eyes widened with recognition. “Grant, honey, I didn’t know you were coming. What a nice surprise.”

  She held out her arms for a hug. Grant embraced her, shocked at the birdlike fragility of the bones along her back. She’d lost a lot of weight.

  “How are you doing, Mom?” he asked, pulling away.

  She shrugged before turning and shuffling back into the kitchen. He followed. Dirty dishes were scattered on the countertops and piled in the sink, dried food crusted on them. Grant breathed through his mouth and kept his expression neutral. “Do you mind if I do some of the dishes?”

  He’d learned long ago to ask before touching anything. One wrong move, and his mom would have a meltdown.

  “No, honey. Leave them.” She twisted one plate, putting it precisely over a crack in the countertop. “I’ll take care of it later.”

  The table was covered in a mountain of laundry. The chairs and floor held an odd assortment of kitchen items. Several mixers gathered dust. Pots and pans threatened to topple over. A lump of fear mingled with concern lodged in Grant’s chest. Aunt Suzie hadn’t been exaggerating. The house had never looked this bad.

  He wanted to haul his mother over his shoulder and run from the house, but that would only cause more harm than good. His mother’s prison wasn’t this home, it was in her own mind.

  Grant hooked his thumbs in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Aunt Suzie mentioned you haven’t been going out. Not going to church or the grocery store.”

  Those were recent developments. Up until a few months ago, his mother’s depression and hoarding had been manageable. No one in Hidden Hollows knew about it outside of Grant and Aunt Suzie. Protecting his mother’s secret had been ingrained in him from the time he was old enough to remember by his dad.

  If people knew, Grant, they would make fun of her. Treat her differently. Shame her. We can’t tell anyone. Ever.

  April’s mouth twisted. “I don’t like Suzie spying on me. She needs to mind her own business and stop coming over here to mess with my things.”

  “She loves you. So do I.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the brochure. “Mom, there’s a place I want you to look at. It’s called Helping Hands, and it’s in California. We can fly out there together and—”

  She glanced at the paper, and her expression hardened. “That’s a treatment facility.”

  “It’s a place people go to heal.”

  She waved her hands in the air. “Do I look like I need help? I’m fine.”

  The question was so ridiculous, Grant had to smother the urge to snap back. He closed his eyes, wrestling with his emotions. It was times like these when Grant missed Pop the most. His father, Michael, had been a gentle giant who’d managed his wife’s mental health with tenderness and grace.

  Grant had never managed to fill Pop’s shoes. He was neither patient enough nor could he find the right words, but he had to try. “Mom—”

  She sliced a hand through the air. “No, I don’t want to hear another word about it. Do you understand me, young man?”

  Frustration nipped at him, but he swallowed it back down. He didn’t want to fight with her. They’d done enough of that when he was a teenager. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. Now it’s time for my show. I’ll see you later.”

  She shuffled out of the room. Moments later he heard the television in the back room come on. Grant left the brochure on the countertop. Maybe she would look at it later.

  He stepped back outside, closing the front door firmly behind him, and marched across the street. Aunt Suzie was sitting on a porch chair. “April didn’t listen to you, did she?”

  “Mom needs some time to get used to the idea.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry, Grant. I shouldn’t have let things get so bad.”

  He let out a long breath. “It’s not your fault. This has been a long time coming, to be honest, and Mom has refused all offers of help. I’ll keep talking to her.”

  It was going to take time to convince Mom. How much, Grant couldn’t be sure, but more than a day. Probably more than a week. It was fortunate he had time off from the navy. There had been a snafu with his reenlistment paperwork which coincided with his return stateside. Technically, he wasn’t employed with the SEALs until he provided his signature on the bottom line. But Grant wasn’t going to turn in the papers until he had his mom settled. There was time. Not years or months. But a few weeks was workable.

  “Why don’t you go into town?” Suzie glanced at the slender watch on her left wrist. “If you hurry, you’ll catch Sara at the library before it closes.”

  Sara. A thousand memories batted at the corners of his mind, but Grant refused to indulge them. “I was hoping to keep a low profile.”

  His aunt laughed. “Oh honey, I know it’s been a long time since you visited, but Hidden Hollows hasn’t changed that much. There is no such thing as a low profile.” She paused, her expression growing serious. “Have you spoken to Sara since Jared died?”

  “From time to time. A phone call here and there. We exchange emails occasionally.”

  They’d all been friends in high school—Grant, Jared, and Sara. Jared and Grant had
grown up together. Sara had arrived in Hidden Hollows as a freshman in high school. She and Jared hit it off over a Bunsen burner the first day in chemistry class and later became inseparable.

  It was sometime in Grant’s sophomore year of high school when he realized his feelings for Sara went beyond friendship. By the time he left for the navy, he was hopelessly in love with her.

  But never, not once, did he consider acting on it.

  First and foremost, Sara was his best friend’s girl. And Jared…well, Jared was the right man for her. Loyal, kind to the core, and as settled in Hidden Hollows as the mountains skirting the town. They belonged together.

  What would it be like to see Sara now that Jared was gone? Grant didn’t know. And he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out.

  Suzie shifted in her chair. “It might be nice to see Sara. And Ben.”

  Maybe. Or maybe it would rip open another hole in his heart. Grant had put off grieving for Jared by staying away from Hidden Hollows. He feared seeing Sara and Ben would unlock the pain lurking under the surface of his heart.

  Pops. Jared. Why did all the best men die young? Pops, killed by a drunk driver while going to the store to buy milk on a Tuesday afternoon. Jared from an undiagnosed brain aneurysm. While Grant—who didn’t have a wife or children—ran headlong into bullets and came out alive. Life wasn’t just unfair, it was cruel.

  He sighed. “I’m tired after a long trip. I’ll make a decision about seeing Sara tomorrow.”

  Aunt Suzie pinned him with a look. “Mark my words, Sara’s going to find out you’re in town. You get to decide how that happens today. After that, the choice won’t be yours anymore, because the gossip will get to her first.”