The SEAL's Best Man (Special Ops: Homefront Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

few
Lieutenants before I get down there.”
    “Invitations?”
    Jack stood up. “Was wondering if that
would fly over your head or not. Yeah, invitations. Your invitations. I
picked them up at the printer today.” He reached for a box on the windowsill.
    “How the hell did you get them this
quickly?”
    “The woman who works at the printer just
off the Circle has a thing for Navy guys and put our order in front of the
queue.”
    “I’m not going to ask what you had to do
to pull this off, then.”
    “Nothing. She’s about seventy and was
married to a Chief Petty Officer who served in the Gulf of Tonkin during Vietnam.”
Jack watched Mick lightly trace the embossed letters on the card. “Makes it
official, doesn’t it? Hope you weren’t thinking of changing your mind.”
    “Never.” Still eyeing the red lettering,
he cocked his head. “But the date’s wrong, Jack.”
    “What?” Jack snatched the card, his blood
curdling. How could that have happened? He had proofed it so many times that the
printer must have thought he was OCD.
    Mick laughed. “Kidding, man. They’re
perfect.”
    “You son of a bitch. I’ll get you back
for that.”
    “I have no doubt you will.” Mick gently
placed the invitation back in the box. “Want Lacey and me to drop by tonight after
we get done interviewing photographers? We’re only meeting with two. Everyone
else we called was booked solid for June. Shouldn’t be too late.”
    “Nah. Bess is meeting us at my place at six
after her last class. We’ll have it done in no time.”
    Mick affectionately punched Jack on the
shoulder. “Thanks again for doing all this. It means a lot to Lacey. And me.”
    “No problem.” Jack grabbed the box and
tucked it in a football-hold. “I better get down to Maeve before she leaves
with some other guy.”
    He had six weeks to convince her to be
his. It wouldn’t help his plan to have her distracted by some other Sailor who marched
out of Rickover Hall.
    Failure was not an option for Jack
Falcone.
    ***
    A pair of seagulls dove into the water,
one emerging with a small fish in its beak, just as a flurry of Midshipmen
burst through a set of glass doors headed to another class.
    She wasn’t used to arriving someplace so
early, but had no idea how much faster she could walk in flats till today. May
as well take advantage of the time and start surfing the web for a job. Between
the backdrop of the Severn and the heavy dose of testosterone that permeated
through the air, she couldn’t have found a more invigorating place to launch a job
search, even though the setting was distracting as hell.
    Mids poured out of Nimitz Hall. They were
so young—plebes, maybe. Skinny and less confident in their stride than
their older classmates. It was amazing the transformation that took place here
at the Naval Academy in four years. She wondered what Jack looked like when he
first arrived here. Certainly not like the young ensign she had a fling with
the weekend of his graduation. And definitely not the man he had become today.
    As a breeze rolled over the Severn River,
her eyes drifted, followed by her mind. Jack. Life was a lot simpler
before he had slipped back into her life. The divorce was final. Her scars,
both literal and figurative, were as healed as they’d ever be. And her new crop
of friends didn’t remind her of her past years in hell.
    Pursing her lips together, she pulled her
eyes from the view and typed in the address of a popular job site. She punched
in a few words, checked off a couple boxes, and held her breath as she hit
“search.”
    What she saw was bleak. There weren’t
many jobs out there for interior designers, even ones willing to commute to
Baltimore or DC. If she wanted a regular paycheck, she knew where she’d have to
look…
    Retail. She could picture herself now, trapped
on a showroom floor surrounded by a sea of couches and recliners. It was honest
work, and she could still vent a little creativity helping clients go