Page 19 of The Seal's Promise
“You’re not in charge just because you know how to change a flat and won’t take no for an answer.”
“Yes I am, so go get in my truck because you know you can’t afford to get sick, and you won’t be any help with the lug nuts or the tire.”
“I’ll sit in my own car then,” she argued.
“It’ll make it harder to use the jack, so go sit in mine, please,” he said, grabbing the spare and the jack before closing her trunk.
“Fine,” she said, and realized her feet were already soaked. He was a SEAL, he wanted to be helpful, he didn’t have work tomorrow—let him handle it, she told herself. Stomping off to the passenger side of his truck, she nearly had to pull herself up to get in but was rewarded with the warmth of his dry, lush interior that smelled like him. He had the same country station she’d had on, and she settled back to watch. He already had the jack in place and one lug nut off. She knew his grandmother didn’t have a truck, and wondered if he’d driven it down or if it was a rental. A few minutes later he had her flat tire off, but then he pulled out a flashlight and practically lay down next to her car to look at something.
Then he strode back to the truck on her side, and she pushed the window down.
“I can’t change it. The axle is cracked.”
“What? How the heck did that happen?”
“My guess is a bad pothole you didn’t see in all this rain. Can I get your keys?”
The sting of unshed tears had her biting her lip, and she dug her keys out of her pocket to hand to him but then stopped.
“I’ll put away the tire and jack in the trunk then take you home,” he said.
“I’ll call my sister to come get me.”
“Damn it, Brooke, just let me help you. Don’t make your sister come out in this storm because you hate me.” Then he charged off.
Her chest was heaving, and her eyes blurred. Something had burst inside her, and a dam of disappointment andI’ll do it myselfcollapsed. She blinked furiously and took a few more deep breaths while Dalton put away the flat tire and the jack, and locked her car. Finally, he pulled open the driver’s-side door and sat soaking wet next to her, then pulled out her bag that he’d retrieved for her from inside his coat.
“Sorry I snapped at you earlier,” he said, his head hanging in defeat.
She could see him in the reflection of the passenger window she was facing. But she kept her face turned away and hoped he didn’t notice she was on the brink of a meltdown.
He sighed, and the cab started to feel much smaller with him enclosed in the space with her.
“Brooke, please look at me.”
“I just want to go home,” she said, but her voice cracked.
“Did I make you cry?” he said, sounding tortured.
Before she could respond, his warm hand found the back of her neck and his other hand stretched out to grip her thigh as he leaned over to her.
“Brooke, I’m so sorry I left and never came back, and I’m sorry I didn’t know you cared. I’m sorry I made you come sit in this truck, and I’m sorry I snapped at you. I just didn’t want you in the rain, I wanted to help you tonight, and I really don’t want you to cry.”
“I just wanted to go home and get a good night’s sleep. I’m tired and feel like I’m failing at everything, but I don’t want to feel all of this,” she said, gulping for more air. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Dalton’s arms scooped her up and he pulled her in to sit closer to him in the middle of the seat.
“Nothing’s wrong with you. Sometimes we can’t go around it or over it, and we just have to go through it. Even when it’s hard and feels like it’s going to break us. But it won’t—you’re strong and you have people who support and love you. People who want to help you.”
He wrapped both his arms around her so that her head was resting on his shoulder, and the last of her resistance shattered. She sank into his strength, absorbing his heat, reveling in the novelty of being held. His body was so welcoming and big, and one hand ran up and down her shoulder trying to soothe her. After a little while, he reached over her to open the glove box.
“Sorry. I just got this thing and I think I stuffed some napkins in here.”
“You bought a truck?”
“Yah, Gran’s car is a little small for me, and I felt like a teenager asking her if I could use it.”
He was using a paper towel to help dry her arms, which he’d soaked when he held her.
