Coming Undone Page 17

  “He’s sick, Carly.”

  “What do you mean by sick? He seems perfectly healthy to me, and Sam hasn’t mentioned anything.”

  “She knows.”

  “Hunt, what is it…”

  “He’s got Hodgkin’s disease.”

  “Cancer,” she whispered, as though not saying the word loudly would make it not so real.

  “Yes. He’s been in remission for a long time, but when we were younger he was very sick. For the past four years, he’s refused to have the annual tests he’s supposed to. It was almost like he knew.” He paused, wiped his eyes angrily with his palm before continuing. “It was like he knew it was coming back and he didn’t give a damn.”

  “Maybe he was scared.”

  “I told him I’d go with him. Hold his damn hand if that’s what he wanted. Anything to check that this nightmare wasn’t happening all over again.”

  Hunt stood, brushed away her hand and her worry. He kicked the step angrily, then looked up at the sky. “He’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”

  “Maybe he can beat it. There are so many advancements today.”

  “He’s not sure he wants to try!” he yelled, startling himself, and when he spoke again, his voice was low. “He’s thinking about not getting treatment. Says he wants to live out the rest of his life his way, not stuck in a hospital full of tubes and medicine, not sure if he’s going to die anyway.”

  There was nothing for Carly to say. Her heart ached for all of them—Hunt, Ty and Samantha.

  Carly was helpless to make any of this better, and so was Hunt. That’s what was killing him the most.

  “Come inside,” she urged, but he shook his head and started walking along the side of the house, toward the beach. She followed, not able to stand the thought of him being alone right now.

  He kept walking, shoulders tense, eyes on the horizon, and so it didn’t register that she’d gone far beyond the dunes until it was too late. Her toes hit the sand, and for a few seconds it didn’t make sense because she was so intent on her goal of not letting him go. Then it hit her and she stopped. Her breathing was audibly harsh, her heart beat staccato and the thin, familiar sheen of sweat covered her forehead.

  And he was still walking, hadn’t turned around. She couldn’t keep her eyes on him anymore, since her view contained his body framed by the crashing waves—it almost brought her to her knees.

  Almost.

  A man is dying, and he’s brave enough to keep on living. And she couldn’t even make it a few feet on sand. Dammit, she was alive.

  Her hands fisted so tightly her nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms, and still she clenched them harder, forced herself to draw in a few gulps of precious air.

  One step, then another and another and she was farther along, maybe ten feet from Hunt and from the ocean, and she couldn’t go any closer, sank down into the sand.

  He was turning around, coming back, walking toward her. She forced herself to stand up and she took another step. Then he was picking her up and carrying her. She buried her face in his neck and chest and breathed in his scent as though it were the pure oxygen she needed to survive. And right now, it was. Tears ran down her cheeks and she was sure she was sobbing, and all of this was a drama Hunt didn’t need.

  But she needed him so much, and he didn’t seem to mind, because this was something he could do, something he could help with. His arms held her tightly, and he didn’t say a word, but his heart beat almost as fast as hers against her cheek.

  He’d turned around for her. And she’d met him in the middle. Now he was taking her the last few steps, pushing her to go all the way.

  The sound of the water grew louder. She bit down hard on the urge to buck out of his arms and run, then heard splashing and realized he hadn’t stopped when he’d reached the tide. Instead, he was taking them both straight into the ocean fully clothed.

  “Hunt, I don’t think…” She barely heard her own voice above the roar of the ocean, or maybe it was the roar between her ears.

  “Then don’t,” was all he said before he kissed her, hard enough to make her head spin and her heart pound, made her forget about the way the water rushed around her, or the fact that Hunt stood waist deep, past the breakers.

  They kissed until she couldn’t stand it anymore, until she wanted him to take her right there in the middle of everything, until she had to get herself naked and have him do the same.

  Until she forgot she was still in the water. Without thinking, Carly pushed away from Hunt to reach for his jeans, and he let her go. For a minute, surrounded by the cold, blue waves, she forgot what to do. Froze up. Then natural instinct kicked in, took away that heart-in-her-throat panicked feeling and she treaded water. And she smiled and laughed and Hunt was laughing with her.

  She was halfway between a combination of exhilaration and crying, part relief and part exhaustion. She dunked her head under the water, stayed completely submerged for a moment, back where she belonged. Carly came up sputtering for air and Hunt was waiting for her, watching to make sure she was okay.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “For the first time in a long time.” Like forever. But she didn’t say that. Instead, she took a few strong strokes toward him and took him in her arms. “You’ll be all right, too.”

  It was his turn to bury his face in her shoulder and they stayed, holding each other up in the swelling waves until she was shivering and the tide had begun to build.

  All too soon it was time to return to shore.

  Now, she swam in on her own, and together they walked back up the shoreline toward her house.

  Carly wasn’t surprised when Hunt tossed her over his shoulder and brought her up the stairs and into her bedroom. When he dropped her on the bed, the intent in his eyes was unmistakable, and took her breath away, because he wasn’t bothering with formalities or romance. He was counting on a high you could only achieve when thinking ceased and action took over.

  She was more than willing to go along with his ride, didn’t have time to catch her breath before he was on her pulling off her wet clothes and throwing them aside.

  Hunt spread her thighs and kissed his way down her stomach, incited by her moans as he reached his destination. His mouth trailed the inside of one thigh, then the other. He teased her until she begged him and finally his mouth found her core, already hot and wet.

  He buried his tongue inside her. She gripped his hair, the sheets, the headboard as his mouth took her so singularly, so purposely that it nearly rocked her off the mattress.

  Her first climax came fast and hard, and even as her body struggled to recover, he was taking her there again, holding her thighs open even as she struggled, partly wanting him to stop yet needing him not to.

  That only served to intensify his goal. Hunt moved his hands to grip her hips and pull her closer. He didn’t stop, laved her already sensitive clit until the next orgasm built, and when his palms reached up to knead her breasts, she let go, lost sight and sense of everything around her as she yelled his name over and over.

  A few minutes later, she was vaguely aware of him shifting positions, and he spoke to her urgently.

  “Ride me. Hard,” he murmured, still managing to make it sound like a command, and oh, that always did it for her, especially when he looked at her. His green eyes were vulnerable with need, and she knew he only wanted her. He’d come to her today, and that was what mattered.

  Hunt maneuvered her on top of him and she straddled him, her legs still quivering. He was big, and when she took him inside, she welcomed that first pinch followed soon by the pleasure of him filling her.

  “Like that?”

  “Yes, Hunt…please,” she moaned, because every sensation was heightened, every touch made her shudder.

  “Yeah, that’s it, baby…love it that you’re always so wet for me.”

  “Only you,” Carly whispered, and he rocked his hips up to drive himself farther into her. She was on top, but she knew he w
as in control.

  He pushed her slightly, she put her arms behind her, rested her palms on his hips. And then she moved slowly into his thrusts, head thrown back. She heard his groans, heard him calling her name. Everything got louder and louder. She was sure the entire beach could hear them.

  And then Carly leaned forward, put her hands on his biceps and she took over. She covered his prone body and let loose, not giving him any room as she moved against him.

  Hunt held off as long as he could. Thought about rolling Carly over and taking her another way, any way, that gave him the top back, but she wasn’t going to have it, held him inside her and had her way.

  She didn’t take her eyes off him the entire time she took him. And she did take him, body and soul, and he knew, absolutely, that he could love her. Probably already did, too.

  Hunt closed his eyes, ignored the sudden tandem ringers for his cell phone and beeper, and for that moment, let his imminent orgasm take him away from any more thinking.

  22

  HUNT HUNG OVER THE SIDE OF the Zodiac 77 SEAL boat. Half of him skimmed the water while he concentrated on staying as low as possible. His wetsuit was uncomfortable. He’d prefer to strip down and take in this day and this storm unencumbered, but practicing drills in the right equipment ensured success when the chips were down.

  The boat gathered enough speed in the rocking waves, so Cash gave the signal and Hunt let go. He dropped off the raft’s the side in one sleek movement. Into the ocean he went with nothing more than his wetsuited self and a knife strapped to his upper arm.Hunt remained under for a minute, kicking to the surface in front of the drop point and away from the boat’s wake. Then treaded water in the chop.

  Fifteen minutes and they’d be back to pick him up. Fifteen minutes to keep afloat, be calm and recon the beach in his sights.

  Fifteen minutes he didn’t have to think about Carly.

  He couldn’t disengage. What started as a full-on fling morphed into more, despite every alarm and wall that came screaming down around him.

  He didn’t remember the drive to Carly’s house after Ty told him the news, just knew he had to talk to someone. And the first person who popped into his mind was Carly.

  Not good.

  At least his cell phone beeper, and this exercise, got him out of her house, and fast, this morning. No time for explanations.

  Block it out, he demanded of himself, and he won in the mind-over-matter debate. At least for the moment.

  The boat cruised in stealth mode toward him. With the motor humming strong but quiet, he hooked his arm through the pulley and hauled himself up when it passed him. He reported his intel to his Senior Chief over the radio, then clicked off and let the rain slam him.

  “Looks like we might go as early as next week,” Cash called over the motor, now running full speed ahead. “And you look like hell.”

  “Feel like it, too,” Hunt admitted.

  “As long as you match. Want to go out and forget all about it?”

  “Can’t. Got someplace I need to be,” he said. “Have a drink for me, though.”

  “The mood you’re in, I’ll need the bottle.”

  Hunt didn’t disagree. “What’s on for tomorrow?”

  “S.E.R.E. stuff,” Cash said.

  Survival, Evade, Resistance and Escape. More practice to keep their minds sharp, given what had happened last month. A put-up-or-shut-up kind of situation, so their CO could see who might need a more permanent kind of R&R. Because a hesitant SEAL was no SEAL at all.

  “The whole day?”

  “I heard talk of forty-eight straight,” Cash replied, and his hearing was notoriously correct.

  “I can deal with that. Don’t feel much like thinking,” Hunt said, saw the look of concern on Cash’s face. “Ty’s sick again.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Now I’ve got to convince him to get treatment.”

  “Does Jason know?”

  “Not yet. Figured I’d deal with this once leave is officially over. Meanwhile I have a few other commitments I need to figure out.”

  “Speaking of commitments, how are things with surfer girl?” Cash asked, and Hunt just snorted. “That badly?”

  “You know what? At the moment I can’t tell if I want things to be good or bad,” he said.

  “I hate to say I told you so.”

  “Then don’t,” Hunt muttered. He’d taken all sorts of risks in his life, but love wasn’t one of them. Until now. Now, he couldn’t shake the sensation that maybe he was falling. And hard. And maybe she wasn’t. “I like her, Cash. I mean, I didn’t expect it to happen this way, but I really think…”

  Cash held up his hand and shook his head. “Come on, man. You’re enjoying it because there are no strings, because there’s a built-in expiration date on this so-called relationship. You don’t feel the collar of commitment choking you like a noose.”

  “Dammit, it’s not like that. Remind me never to ask you anything about relationships again.”

  “Honest, I hate to see a friend go down like this.” Cash said. “How does she feel about you, anyway?”

  Hunt shrugged. “No clue.”

  “Well, she must like something because she keeps coming back for more, right?”

  “She needs a date for the wedding.”

  “She’s not going to keep your sorry ass hanging around if she didn’t like you, you know. She wouldn’t keep inviting you back into her bed, which is the problem. You’re thinking with your head and not your head, if you know what I mean.”

  “Enough. Over. I’m through talking about it,” he said. Maybe Cash was correct, because every time Hunt saw Carly, all he wanted to do was get her clothes off and make each single thing in her life better.

  Cash was grinning.

  Hunt swore he’d heard humming to the tune of VanHalen’s “Get This Party Started,” so flipped his middle finger. Cash laughed, and they both stood in the driving rain.

  “OF COURSE HE TOLD ME.” Sam sat on Carly’s couch, legs tucked up under her, looking somehow more relaxed than she’d ever been.

  “How can you be so serene? I don’t understand.” Carly stood up and began to pace. How was the earth still on its axis when things were this crazy around her? It had only been two weeks, and here Samantha was going away with Ty. Granted, Carly knew she’d hop on the back of Hunt’s bike and ride off if he asked her, but Sam was different. She felt like checking her best friend for tattoos.“Carly, everything’s fine. I think he’ll try for treatment. I talked to the doctor. There’s a really, really good chance everything will be all right.”

  “That’s wonderful. It is. But you’re giving up your life here for him. Are you sure?”

  “I’m not giving up anything. I’m taking an opportunity. One that I probably never would have thought to take if it weren’t for your example.”

  “My example? I’m so confused.”

  “Come here.” Sam motioned for her to sit next to her on the couch, and Carly did. “Look, when we were in college, I already knew you were the bravest person I’d ever met. You left everything behind to pursue your dream and you succeeded.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m a huge success.” Carly felt the tears rise.

  “Stop it. You are. You’re back in the water and you’ll work out what to do next. But I’ve finally worked out what I want to do next.”

  “Ride cross-country on the back of the world’s largest vibrator?” Carly joked, and they both giggled.

  “Yes. With a wonderful man who’s encouraging me to follow my dreams.”

  She looked into her friend’s eyes and she remembered. “Photography.”

  “I’ve been sneaking in some classes here and there, and my instructor said I have a natural talent.”

  “So you can travel and take pictures and be free.”

  “Yes, and I get to do it with the most interesting man I’ve ever met. I’m really, truly in love, and I never thought it would happen to me. Now that it has, I ca
n’t just stop everything because he’s sick.”

  “How’d you get so smart?”

  “I have a great friend.”

  Carly bit her bottom lip and sighed. She’d never had to worry about pleasing anyone but herself for as long as she could remember. She’d picked up and left school, her parents, everything, for her career. It had been the right move at the time, to be sure, but it had cost her in terms of developing relationships. In terms of figuring out who to get close to and how to stay close.

  There was an old competitive professional surfing adage that said, friends on land, enemies in the water. Problem was, she couldn’t live her life with that kind of attitude, and she’d drifted far enough away from the surfing crowd because of it.

  Even her so-called relationship couldn’t be deemed one.

  With Samantha, her need for Ty seemed to come out of the blue, but maybe it hadn’t, really. Maybe Carly had been so involved in her own problems that she hadn’t bothered with Sam’s feelings. Or Hunt’s. Or even her own.

  “I’ve been a terrible friend,” Carly said.

  “No, you’ve been focused on your life and what you wanted. Your career. My life was a lot simpler. Still is, I guess.”

  “How can you call what you’re doing simple?”

  “It’s simple when it’s right,” Sam said. “Now you and I need to find a way to help Hunt and Ty help themselves.”

  “First, I’ve got to find a way to help me and Hunt,” she muttered.

  “So you’ve figured out that the stand-in boyfriend has the potential to be the real thing.”

  “It wasn’t what I was looking for. It’s all so complicated, and things were starting to get so much better.”

  “Maybe you’re complicating things,” Sam said.

  “This was supposed to be about fantasy. Make-believe. Pretend boyfriends and getting me out of a jam.”

  “Well, you certainly got more than your share of fantasy.”

  “It’s that I think…no, I know, I’ve never felt like this. About anyone. I try to picture what will happen after Nicole’s wedding is over, and I can’t.”