SEAL’s Redemption: Team Oracle Security, #1

1

When Logan Miller first arrived at Hope Cabot’s place that Friday afternoon, he thought the most difficult thing he was going to have to handle was an apology to the woman he’d hurt during their breakup. That, on its own, would have been hard enough.

This? This was much harder.

I’m sorry? Logan said as Hope stood there staring at him. I don’t think I heard that right.

You did. Hope sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, a sign he’d remembered from when they’d been together. One that meant she was upset. He also knew that when she got upset, she withdrew from him and that was the last thing he wanted right now. His gaze dropped to her left hand, where she clutched a set of keys. He’d interrupted her while she was on her way out, apparently. Logan’s eyes drifted back up the length of her, taking in details because that was what he did, especially when he was stressed. His SEAL training had taught him well. Hope looked basically the same as she had the last time he’d seen her two months prior—same long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, same wide hazel eyes, same wary expression letting him know she didn’t trust him anymore. She had on a loose-fitting hoodie thing over her tighter T-shirt, which was new, but otherwise she was the same Hope he’d remembered—maybe just a little curvier now, not that he’d ever mention it. At first, he’d figured she’d just put on a little weight, and it looked good on her. She was obviously healthy, with her rosy cheeks and bright eyes. Except now he knew there was more behind that special glow.

A baby. His baby. Jesus.

Oh… He winced slightly at the wariness in her eyes. Logan couldn’t blame her for not trusting him. She hadn’t changed over the past two months since the last time they’d spoken, but he had. He was ashamed to think of the man that he had been—what he’d put her through before she’d finally decided enough was enough. The only good thing he could say about how things had ended between them was that getting dumped on his ass had been the wake-up call he’d needed to stop looking for solutions to his problems at the bottom of a bottle and to finally get some help.

After that, it had taken him a long time and more than a few therapy sessions to trust himself again. He hadn’t been addicted to alcohol, thankfully, but he’d gotten way too used to using it as a crutch to manage his anxiety and depression. Learning to deal with his problems in a healthier way had been a process. Even now, there were days and times when he struggled to make smart, thoughtful decisions, but thank God they were fewer and farther between.

He gave himself a mental shake and took the final step onto the porch, the nearly six-inch height difference between them more pronounced now that he was on level ground with her. His mind was whirling so fast he didn’t know what to say, so he let the first stupid thing that popped into his head come out. Uh, when did it happen?

Hope’s flat look made him wish he could kick his own ass.

He rushed on before she could say anything. "No. I mean, I know when it happened. I’m just stunned, that’s all. His gaze fell to her abdomen, then returned to her eyes. Why didn’t you tell me?"

I was going to. The pink in her cheeks darkened, and she lowered her head. But I wanted to wait until I knew it was going to be a viable pregnancy before I shook everything up. There’s a history of miscarriages in my family, so…

His heart lurched and stared at the keys in her hand again. Five minutes ago, he hadn’t known that this baby existed—but now, just the thought of him or her not making it was enough to turn his stomach. Everything is okay though, right?

She gave a small nod. I think so. I’m nine weeks today, so the doctor’s going to do an ultrasound to hear the heartbeat. I was on my way there now.

He nodded dumbly for a second, still trying to take it all in. A baby. History of miscarriage. Heartbeats. His kid’s heartbeat. All at once, reality snapped back into place and zoomed ahead on fast forward as Hope turned and locked the door behind her, then brushed past him to start down the steps. Logan caught up to her easily on the sidewalk near her car.

Hope hit the button on her key fob and opened the passenger side door to toss her purse on the seat, then turned to face him once more. I’m sorry about dropping the news on you like this. It wasn’t how I wanted you to find out, but, well… She shrugged. Now that you know, I’m not sorry to have it out there. Like I said, I was going to tell you after today, so… She smoothed a hand down the front of her heather gray T-shirt, placing a protective hand over her abdomen. It was still flat, but he couldn’t help imagining how it would look in a few weeks when it would start to round out. And in case there are any doubts, it’s yours. I don’t sleep around.

I know that. Of all the things racing through his brain, doubt about the paternity of the child wasn’t one of them. Should he have said that from the start? Were there other things he should be saying—things she needed to hear? He’d fumbled this badly, as he’d done with their relationship in general, but it wasn’t every day a man found out he was going to be a father. Of course, it wasn’t every day that a guy finally returned to make amends to the people he’d hurt along the way either.

A small muscle ticked near his tight jaw as he considered his next words, hoping to avoid saying anything else stupid that would only make this already chaotic situation worse. He hadn’t come here for more drama with Hope. Lord knew they’d done more than enough of that two months ago.

He inhaled deeply then exhaled through his nose, scrubbing his hand over the top of his buzz cut brown hair. He’d come home when his tour of duty had ended, deciding to take some time to get his shit together and figure out how to get his life back on track before re-enlisting. So far, he’d accomplished one of those things and had gotten a good start on the second item. Or at least he had—until her news just now had thrown him for an enormous loop.

Hope watched him for a second, arms crossed, then continued on around to the other side of the car. She opened the door and started to get in. Sorry, Logan. I know you probably have more questions. But I’m already running late for my appointment. Call me later, and we can set up a time to discuss this.

His chest tightened and his blood sizzled with adrenaline. Confusion and hurt and yearning knotted tight in his gut. Two months ago, his first instinct would’ve been to numb those feelings with alcohol. It had been his go-to solution ever since he’d frozen on one of his SEAL missions and nearly cost his fellow team member—and best friend—his life. Alcohol made that shame and self-loathing go away, at least for a while. Too bad it also smothered the rest of his emotions too, which had cost him his relationship with Hope.

But he was back now, dammit, and determined to prove he was a changed man, no matter how painful or difficult that might be. Whether or not Hope would ever forgive him, they were going to have a child together, and he wanted to be a part of that kid’s life. That meant proving that he could be there for both Hope and the baby. Without thinking, he rushed over and yanked open the passenger door as she started the engine. How about I go with you to the appointment, and we can talk along the way? Unless you’re still too pissed at me.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then shook her head. I’m not still mad at you, Logan. I’m just late. And stressed. Hope hung her head, then looked over at him. Fine, you can come with me. Close the door.

Close the door? he repeated, not quite able to believe his luck. She was giving in as easily as that?

Yes. Unless you want to risk falling out. Come on. Her irritated expression reminded him of all those times when they’d been a couple and she’d constantly hounded him to stay on schedule. She was the early one, a planner to her core, while he was usually chronically late. The reminder of their differences, the way they used to be the cause of playful teasing that had gradually turned bitter and charged, made his heart pinch a little.

Move it, dude.

Right. He scrambled into the passenger seat and closed the door, barely getting his seatbelt fastened before she took off toward downtown Baltimore. Uh, thanks for letting me come.

Hope snorted, keeping her gaze on the road ahead. Not like you gave me much choice.

No, I suppose I didn’t. Logan forced his tense shoulders to relax and stared out the window beside him at the passing scenery. I really did come to apologize to you for what I put you through.

That got her attention. She glanced over at him, then back straight ahead. How about we hold off on all that until after the doctor’s appointment, eh?

Does that mean you’re willing to hear me out? he asked, hope surging.

She hesitated. Yes, she said at last. I guess I owe you that much. But I hope you’re not trying to get back together, though. I don’t do that.

Logan gave her some side-eye. What? Reconcile?

No. Get back with exes. She signaled then slowed at the corner for a red light. My parents spent years on that merry-go-round, and it never ended well for them—or me.

He opened his mouth, closed it, unsure of how to respond to that. Before he’d arrived at her place, Logan had rehearsed his apology over and over again in his mind. But now, her news was riding roughshod over all his preparations. Like I said, I came to apologize, not reconcile. That’s all. They drove on for a while, his mind swirling, until a new concern popped up at the forefront of his thoughts. What will this appointment entail?

Um, I’m not sure, Hope said, checking her rearview mirror as they merged into heavier downtown traffic. Probably another exam, and the ultrasound will need to be pelvic at this point. Why? Don’t tell me you’re uncomfortable now. You can leave during the exam part anyway, then come back in for the ultrasound, if you’d rather.

Oh. Okay. He tried to play it off, but the knots between his shoulder blades tightened slightly. He wasn’t squeamish. Couldn’t be in his line of work. But there was this weird rush of protectiveness burning through him now for Hope and the baby. He probably shouldn’t feel that way. Having just stepped back into her life, literally, after two months gone, didn’t give him any rights to control her, but still. He’d just found out she was carrying his kid, for fuck’s sake. That mattered. More than he wanted to admit.

Wow. Honestly, he’d never pictured himself having kids. Not that he was opposed to children, in principle. Hell, he’d grown up living the California dream with his parents and younger brother. But having a family of his own wasn’t something Logan had really considered. For years, his military career had been his first priority. Lately, he was too busy focusing on finding healthier ways of dealing with his emotions, rather than masking them with booze. Being stoic and aloof was great for SEAL missions, not so much for a personal life.

He stared out at the skyscrapers surrounding them as Hope swerved into a parallel parking spot outside of a nondescript gray granite building. She cut the engine.

Here we are. Hope unbuckled her seatbelt then, gave him a skeptical squint. You sure you want to come in with me?

Logan got the feeling this was some sort of test, and he wanted to make damned sure he passed this time. He nodded instantly. Yes. Let’s go.

An hour later, they were sitting together inside a sterile looking exam room. White walls, white floor, white cabinets. There were a couple of posters on the wall of female reproductive organs and another of the stages of a developing fetus, but Logan did his best not to stare at those too long. Thinking about a small person growing inside Hope felt too much like something out of a science fiction movie. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

The doctor had finished Hope’s exam, and Logan had been summoned in from the waiting room. Hope had changed out of her leggings for the ultrasound and now sat on the edge of the exam table with a paper gown draped across her legs. She wasn’t revealing anything he hadn’t already seen, of course. It was not as if their child had been conceived while they were fully dressed. But this was an entirely different ball game. There were weird stirrups on the exam table, sticking out at odd angles, and the array of instruments laid out on the counter beside him looked downright sinister. Again, he thought of science fiction movies and gave silent prayer those weren’t for Hope. He’d seen all sorts of horrors in warfare, but the thought of those being used on somebody made him shudder.

He shifted his weight on a hard plastic chair, the smell of antiseptic stinging his nose, and a mix of anxiety and anticipation fizzing in his gut. His butt was getting numb, and he tossed aside a dog-eared copy of a month’s old celebrity tabloid mag he’d been pretending to read so he could stare at the closed door. Part of him wished the doctor would just come back in already so they could get this over with. The rest of him dreaded what the physician would say. What if there really was a problem? Did he have the mental tools to get through that—and to be there to help Hope—or would he fall apart and turn to alcohol again?

Finally, there was a brief knock and the door opened. Dr. Singh walked in, smiling, then pulled over her wheeled stool from where it sat in the corner, positioning it by the ultrasound machine that was next to the exam table. Ready to go?

Ready, Hope said, giving a nervous smile.

Logan forced a stiff smile for the doctor, then looked at Hope. She laid back and put her feet in those stirrup things and, oh God. Dr. Singh got the ultrasound probe ready then moved her wheeled stool between Hope’s legs. A fresh wave of nervous nausea