Page 18 of The Seal's Promise

She nearly choked on her sip of water. “Why do you say that?”

“Because we all begged him to be our doctor and to teach us how to be SEALs,” Max said before he took a huge bite of his lasagna.

“Oh, well, who could pass up that offer?” her dad asked.

Once their meal was done, Brooke was exhausted and ready to head home.

“Why don’t you let Max stay here tonight? We can get him to school in the morning and you can get a little extra sleep,” her mom said.

“Oh, yah, can I, Mom? Grandpa makes the best pancakes.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t even check to see if he had homework.”

“We already took care of that.” Her dad guided her to the door. “Go get some extra sleep, read a book, or whatever you’d do with a few hours to yourself.” Her dad opened the front door.

“If you’re sure, but first—” She marched back over to Max and gave him a big hug and a kiss. “Call me before beddy or if you need me later. I love you, baby.”

“Love you, Mom,” he said. “Wait, do you think we could have a playdate with Dr. Dalton, since he says he knows you?” Max said.

“I think we have plenty of playmates, and you can always ask Dr. Tommy about being a doctor.”

“Yah, but I want to hear more about being a SEAL.”

She brushed back his hair. “Good night, baby.” Then she walked back to the door, where she could see that it had just started to rain.

“Drive safe. We’ve got bedtime covered.”

She hugged both her parents. “Enjoy a good night’s sleep.”

“Thanks again,” she called back as she jogged out to her car so she wouldn’t get too wet.

In the car she turned on the radio to find her favorite country song playing, and she smiled at the thought that she could listen to what Max called her “kissy music” because the singers always talked about being in love or falling out of it.

After a few blocks the rain was really crashing down, and she turned her wipers on high as she passed back through Main Street toward her small house. It was just on the outskirts of town, a few miles from her parents’ place. It hadn’t been her first choice, but when her marriage ended there was no way she was going to stay in Savannah. Her parents had helped her get into the small two-bedroom and fix it up, and it was all she and Max needed.

Just as the upbeat song about a cowboy returning to his hometown ended, a large popping sound forced her to clutch the steering wheel and pump the brakes. But then her right tire started making a thumping noise, and the weight of her car dipped.

“Oh no, is this what a flat tire feels like?” she said to herself.

She pulled to the side of the road as the sound of the rain continued to pound and the feel of her tire’sthump thump thumpall the way. There was only one way to confirm it was her tire—which meant getting out in the rain—but either way she was going to need to call for help. She couldn’t change a tire by herself, much less in a storm. She could call her dad, but she didn’t really want him out in this weather. She could call Miles and he would no doubt show up to help her, but that would only make her feel more beholden to him. Option number three was to call May, who was the next most responsible person, but she wasn’t sure her more artistic talents would be of much help.

Or, Brooke thought, she could wait out the storm then walk home and not have to ask anyone for help. Then deal with the flat tomorrow.

So she put on her hazards, slid her seat back as far as it would go, turned the music on low, and closed her eyes. Just as she started to drift off to sleep, lights lit up the inside of her car and the purr of a strong engine vibrated to a stop behind her. In her side mirror she could see a large man in a raincoat with the hood pulled low exit the truck. When he showed up at her window, she rolled it down a few inches. It was still pouring rain, and drops ran off his jacket, but she could still easily see baby blue eyes and a handsome smile.

“Hey, Brooke, pop the trunk and I’ll change out the flat.” Dalton’s voice was unmistakable.

She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to be indebted to one more person, much less Dalton Hart. She was constantly feeling like she couldn’t take care of herself, and Dalton was the last person she wanted to need.

“Stop being stubborn. It’s a monsoon, and you can’t sleep in your car.”

“I don’t want your help,” she said honestly.

“Tough. Pop the trunk.” He walked to the back of her car where he insistently tapped her trunk for added effect.

The internal struggle was real but she knew he wouldn’t just go away, so she pulled the trunk latch and got out of the car to help.

“Go sit in my truck,” he ordered as he pulled up the flooring of her trunk to find her spare tire and the jack.

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