Page 1 of Shielding Soledad

1

ALEX

Ithanked the ride-share driver, shouldered my duffel bag, and dug my house keys from the pocket of my BDUs. God, I was glad to be home. As I stood in front of the old McCallister place—the house that had basically been mine for the past few months—I tried to let the tension roll off me. It wouldn’t go. I needed solitude and time to recover from my last mission, the worst of my career—and not for any of the usual reasons.

I headed for the door, pausing to listen when I heard a dog barking. Maybe one of my neighbors had gotten a dog while I’d been gone, or maybe I had new neighbors. I’d have to check that out—it was always smart to be aware of one’s surroundings—but that could wait for a bit. After eight long months in the Middle East, I could at least take the rest of the day off before rechecking the surrounding area.

I shrugged off the barking and put my key in the lock, ready to get started on the R&R I’d promised myself, which would include some decision making about my future.

I shoved the door open and instantly sensed that something was off. I let the duffel drop to the floor as I scanned my surroundings. A woman’s purse hung from a hook near the door. There was something very familiar about the distinctive bag, navy blue with a small hot-air balloon embroidered on the flap. Soledad. I’d last seen it slung over her shoulder the day we broke up, before I left for my mission.

A book on a side table caught my attention next. What to Expect When You’re—What the hell?

Despite my reeling mind, my body reacted to the flash of movement to my right. With an iron grip I seized an arm, stopping its progress before it slammed something down on my head.

“Soledad?” I asked.

“Alex?” she whispered.

We’d spoken at the same time, eyes locked. Hers were deep brown with gold flecks. They were what had attracted me to her in the first place. She’d held me mesmerized when I’d been buying a new pair of jeans at the department store where she worked. She’d waited on me, flirting a bit, and I’d asked her out before my credit card even processed.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded breathlessly, lowering her arm and the weapon, which I now saw was a ceramic pot containing an Easter cactus.

“It’s my house,” I said, controlling my tone. “What are you doing here?” Before she could answer, my gaze slid from her face down her long neck to her breasts. How had I forgotten their fullness? Forgotten the valley between them and how I liked to…

A wave of lust rolled through me as I remembered the last time we’d made love, just up those stairs in the master bedroom. It had been bittersweet, both of us knowing the relationship was ending. The following morning she’d been gone from my life. But we’d been good together while it lasted, which had been way longer than any of my previous entanglements.

Maybe she’d agree to some “nice to see you again” sex. Nothing serious. I’d never wanted that, which is what had split us apart. But a hot fling might take my mind off my troubles.

Her eyes widened, and her face flushed. Was she reading my mind?

“Oh,” Soledad grunted, doubling over, her hands going to her stomach.

“Jesus,” I muttered, my eyes now glued to the large bump under her shirt. My lust disappeared. There was only one reason for that kind of belly on a woman who’d had the body of an athlete just months ago. My thoughts leaped back to the title of the book on the side table, the words processing in my head. What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

“Are you pregnant?” I got the question out despite the rushing noise in my head. Pregnant. Soledad was pregnant and living in my house. What the hell?

“No,” she gasped, still bent over. “I just swallowed…a basketball whole. Look at me. Of course I’m pregnant.”

Okay. Now what did I do? I was a decorated and highly trained SEAL. I could handle a pregnant woman, right? Because she seemed to need something. This couldn’t be normal behavior. I shoved aside the million questions in my brain and took her arm.

“You should sit down,” I said, trying to lead her toward the couch.

“No. Can’t.” She didn’t budge, shaking off my hand on her arm. “I think… oh, my gosh.” We both looked down to see fluid run down her legs from under the hem of her dress.

“Shit,” I said, temporarily stunned into inaction.

“My water broke,” she said as streams of liquid reached her knees.

Yeah, I’d figured that out. I shook myself, jarring my mind to think and my body to act. What was a rational question at that moment? Intel. I needed intel. “When are you due?”

“Last week. I’m overdue by eight days,” she explained, straightening a little and sounding far calmer than I felt. “You startled me. Maybe that spurred labor on. I don’t know, but I think this baby is coming. Now.”

“Don’t move,” I commanded, leaving her in the entryway and heading for the kitchen, where I’d left the keys to my truck on a hook when I deployed. I hoped like hell there was enough gas in the tank to get to the hospital—and that the battery wasn’t dead.

“Whoa, who are you?” Alex asked a knee-high brown-and-black dog that tucked its tail between its legs and backed away from me with a sharp bark.

“That’s Frankie,” Soledad called. “Come here, girl.”

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