Page 15 of Defended By the SEAL (HERO Force #10)

Charlotte put a log on the fire and checked on Grams, who had finally stopped shivering and was resting comfortably after drinking a bit of tea Tom brought for her.

Her face was warm to the touch, a marked improvement over the last time Charlotte had checked, and she sighed with relief that Grams was going to make it.

She sat at the far side of the couch, careful to avoid Grams’s feet as she tucked her own legs beneath the blankets. Hot coals glowed under a bed of fresh wood, flames licking at the bark of the logs with a crackling fervor.

She stared into the fire. Her period was nine days late. Nine fucking days. How had she missed that? Granted, she didn’t pay it a lot of attention, but still—nine days was a long time not to notice.

Figures she’d be on a goddamn island in the middle of a storm, cut off from the world and the endless boxes of pregnancy tests that lined drugstore shelves. There was no way to know for sure if she was pregnant, and all the wishing in the world wouldn’t give her a definitive answer.

She squeezed her boobs with her arms. They were tender, but that could be from pregnancy or her impending period. She would just have to let the question go unanswered for now, and patience was a virtue she most definitely did not possess.

I might be having a baby.

There was fear in her heart, for sure, but there was a thin slice of shiny joy she hadn’t expected. Children had been an open question for most of her adult life. When she’d first married Rick, she assumed they’d have kids in a few years, but long before then, their relationship had soured.

That was what happened, wasn’t it? Relationships were always changing. You couldn’t count on them to stay the same, so why did people try to guarantee the bond between them could be fixed in place, frozen in time like a rose in a magical glass jar?

She didn’t believe in fairy tales anymore.

And what if she was pregnant? What she knew about the world wouldn’t suddenly change if she became a parent. Cowboy’s promises to stay by her side and love her forever would be no more sound than they were today—she’d just have more at stake.

A baby would change everything between them, make him want to marry her even more than he already did, and the thought sent a bolt of pure terror through her body.

She forced herself to take several slow, deep breaths.

She probably wasn’t even pregnant. She was just perseverating on an idea that would never come to fruition.

“Tom?” whispered Grams, her eyes fluttering open.

“He’s not here right now. Want me to find him for you?”

“Please.”

Charlotte stood. “How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”

Grams looked exhausted, but grinned slightly. “Just Tom, please, dear.”

Charlotte checked the kitchen and circled back by Tom’s office. “You seen Tom?” she asked Cowboy.

“Nope.”

She made her way upstairs, hugging herself against the cold air that blew in from the edges of the carpet they’d hung. The entire second floor was frigid, and she made a mental note to start the fire long before they went to bed tonight.

A mental image of making love to Cowboy made her toes curl in her shoes. She couldn’t think about that now. “Tom?” she called out, her voice echoing through the dark and icy halls.

Room by room, she made her way through the entire upstairs, except for the bedroom she knew to be full of boxes, which was now locked.

She knocked on it briskly. “Tom?” There was no answer.

Where the hell had he gone? Clearly, he’d locked the door since she and Cowboy had been in here.

Did he know they’d gone through his things?

She rattled the knob. “Are you in there?”

All the doors in the house opened with a single skeleton key. Charlotte and her cousins had loved to lock and unlock the doors with the antique brass keys, which Grams kept hanging in a hallway cupboard.

Retrieving one, she returned to the locked door and unlocked it with a click, the hair on her forearms standing on end as if she were in danger.

This damn storm was getting to her.

Or maybe it’s the bomb making supplies you found downstairs.

She pushed the door open, taking in the familiar space. Clearly, he wasn’t in there. A flicker of light outside the window caught her attention, and she moved toward it, squinting through the falling snow to the glimmer of light beyond.

The lighthouse. She held her breath as the implications of what she was seeing grabbed her by the throat. The light was coming from the lighthouse.

It wasn’t bright enough to be the main beam, which her grandmother had illuminated upon occasion when Charlotte had visited.

Her brain shot back to the glowing fire-like light she’d witnessed as a child, an eerie trepidation flowing freely through her veins like rapidly boiling liquid before rational thought percolated through her brain.

Tom must be out there. That was the only possible explanation. But why would he brave the elements and make the trek to the lighthouse without telling them he was going? It didn’t make any sense.

Suddenly, a hand rested on her shoulder and she jumped violently away, whipping around to find Tom standing beside her, his jaw set hard, features disapproving and raw.

“Jesus Christ, you fucking scared me!” she snapped.

When he spoke, his voice was deep, with a sharp edge that had her taking a step backward. “What are you doing in this room?”

“Looking for you. Where were you?”

“I was in the bedroom resting.”

“You were not. I looked there.”

“I assure you, Charlotte, I was taking a nap.” In the candle’s light he held, he appeared menacing. Threatening, even.

She narrowed her eyes, her chest rising and falling from the shock of finding him behind her, and the deep-seated unease that permeated her entire being. There was nothing to be gained by forcing the issue. She knew he hadn’t been in the bedroom he shared with Grams.

She worked to keep her expression neutral, unalarmed. “My grandmother wants you. She’s finally warmed up, thank goodness.”

“Yes, thank goodness for that.” He extended his arm toward the door, gesturing for her to precede him. “After you.”

Charlotte nodded once, then glanced out the window toward the lighthouse one last time before leaving the room.

She saw only darkness. Whatever had caught her attention was gone.

It couldn’t have been Tom out there. He never would have been able to extinguish a light in the lighthouse and get back here in time to scare her half to death.

“There was a light coming from the lighthouse.”

“When?”

“Just now. I was looking at it when you touched my shoulder.”

“Must have been a trick of the light, or the storm. Thunder snow, perhaps. According to your grandmother, no one’s been inside that lighthouse for years.”

“I know what lightning looks like, Tom. This wasn’t it.”

“Perhaps you need to get some rest.” He again gestured for the door, motioning for her to exit.

Stepping in front of him, she tried to ignore the prickly edge of danger she felt at her back as he followed her out and locked the door, the crisp metallic rasp of the mechanism echoing in the hall with a decisive finality.