Page 1 of Navy Daddy

1

EVA

“Idon’t understand why you’re so against this, Eva, but getting heated isn’t going to change anything. I want you to meet with Arthur and learn how to defend yourself,” Father sighs, wiping his face with both hands in frustration. “I’d be a lousy father if I didn’t do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

“I’m against it because it’s an overreaction and a waste of money.” I sigh. Money isn’t the issue. Father’s wealth is an endless ocean, and whatever he’s paying the former Navy SEAL to spend a few weeks showing me how to fight is a drop in the bucket. But I’ve exhausted every other attempt at getting out of this, so why not appeal to his wallet instead?

“I’m going to London, not Baghdad,” I continue. “Hiring a soldier to show me the ropes of fighting won’t do me any good there.”

We’re on the patio, with Father leaning over the white railing. His attention is fixed on the all-black muscle car, moving like a shadow through the copse of trees surrounding our driveway.

“Doesn’t matter where you’re headed, I want you to be safe. You’re a woman on your own, in a place full of people you don’t know. Why does it have to be such an issue with you?” He’s doing his best to stay calm, but the flush of red creeping up his polo shirt’s collar betrays his demeanor.

It’s not the first time I’ve protested this idea, so I can understand his frustrations. But his idea of teaching me how to ‘defend’ myself flies in the face of what I stand for. Hurting people isn’t in my nature, and I’d rather find a different solution to my problems. Maybe it’s a naive thought to think everyone can be reasoned with, but without exhausting every option before turning violent, how will we ever know?

“Because he hurts people, and I don’t want to.” I hate how timid my voice is, but it’s the truth nonetheless. “We’re two sides of a coin. I’m a lover, and he’s a fighter. Where I can find the good in everyone and everything, his whole world is as black as his car. I want to help and nurture, all he knows is destruction.”

“Christ, Eva.” Father turns to me wide-eyed and dumbfounded. Still, his bellowing laughter lightens the mood. “You haven’t even met the guy. How do you know he isn’t the complete opposite of the picture you drew in your head?”

“Because you don’t become a SEAL to push papers and deliver warm meals to underprivileged countries.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious about him. I’ve put so much time into fending off his arrival that I never even asked a name. He’s an enigma, shrouded and hidden behind dark tinted windows, parked in front of the patio steps.

Father blurts out a long, disgruntled groan. “Let’s just meet him, okay? Be civil and polite. Go through whatever he has plannedfor today, and keep in mind that you’re not doing this for yourself but for your mother and me. If you hate the experience and still think he isn’t the right fit for you, then I’ll buckle. But give it a proper try. Can you do that, hon?”

I see the SEAL shuffling in his car but can’t make out any features behind the blackened windshield. His door swings open before I have a chance to respond, and as he steps out, my decision is made immediately.

“Yes. I can do that,” I say, gawking at the behemoth circling his car to the trunk.

Father scoffs, no doubt noticing my leering. “Good God, look at him. He’s built like a brick shit house.”

Not the words I’d use to describe him, but they fit the bill perfectly. He’s muscle upon layered muscle, but none of them come from a gym. They’re hard-earned, bulging, coated in a thin layer of meat that rounds them out perfectly. When he raises his hand to wave at us, his biceps puff out to the size of bowling balls.

And those hands … those massive hands. He’d have no trouble at all wrapping them around my waist. Hoisting me in the air and carrying me around like a bag of feathers.

No man has any reason to be so damn enormous, and I can’t seem to look away.

Snap out of it, Eva. Whatever it is.

I have to reprimand myself before my mind wanders to places I don’t want it to go. Not for this guy.

“Want to pick your jaw off the floor?” Father says, pushing off the rail and taking his first steps to the stairs. But even he seems to have the wind ripped from his lungs at first sight of the giant.

Size and good looks aside, the most surprising thing of all is his smile. Even plastered on his rock-solid face, it’s soft, warm, and inviting. Almost like he’s a friend coming to teach me the rules of survival and not some monster who just came off a killing spree.

Maybe I had him pegged all wrong. Or maybe it’s the tickle between my thighs that sway my judgment.

Either way, I’ve suddenly found myself betraying the ideals I’ve cultivated for so long and far more interested in learning how to throw a punch.

2

ARTHUR

They’re staring at me like I’m a freak show attraction. Both their necks snapping upward just to meet my eyes, mouths agape at my size, while cautiously waddling closer like I’m a feral, vicious animal. It makes me chuckle, as it has so many times before.

“You’re not what I was expecting. I thought you’d be…” Bart Collins, my new boss, is the first to speak, but he trails off while his eyes drop to my feet before moving up again.

My interest doesn't lie in the small talk he wants to engage in. I’d rather hear what the stunning beauty beside him has to say. So small and timid in my shadow, yet so bright and perfect in my eyes.

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