Page 23 of Harbored by the SEAL
Cowboy and Harrison were going to laugh at her, though she held out some hope Abby wouldn’t. “Hey, guys? I think you should take a look at this. You know, just so you can tell me it’s not a bomb.”
The men crouched down on either side of her. Cowboy pulled out his cell phone, a beam of light shining on the device. He and Harrison both cursed out loud. “It’s a bomb, all right,” said Cowboy. “Just when you were afraid that Navy SEAL training was going to go to waste.”
20
3:53.
Three hours and fifty-three minutes.
The bomb was set to detonate during the last show of the evening, the most crowded of the day.
Cowboy was sweating, the still air in the control room now stifling and stale. Harrison had stopped the show and evacuated the theater while Cowboy gathered tools and materials to shield himself from the blast just in case.
If the bomb detonated, the theater was toast. The ceiling was structured in such a way that taking out the control room would knock out the main support beam over the audience. Cowboy had insisted Harrison and the women take cover a safe distance away from the theater.
Some level of explosives training was required in BUD/s training, but Cowboy had taken it one step further and become an explosives expert. There was nothing quite as satisfying as blowing shit up, or in this case, keeping an explosion from happening. At least, that’s what he hoped would happen.
He wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts before picking up the wire cutters. He’d had plenty of time to study the structure of the bomb and it looked simple enough. Problem was, looks could be deceiving.
He’d given Charlotte a casual squeeze before heading back in here alone, but there was nothing casual about that squeeze in his mind. He had every intention of cutting a wire and walking back out of this room, but in his experience, very few soldiers intended to die.
The life or death nature of what he was about to do colored the lens through which he looked at the last two days. He’d been a solitary man all his life, a solitary man who enjoyed a hell of a lot of company. But none of those women really got inside, not to the part of him that counted, the part of him that was more than the funny guy who liked to have a good time.
And Charlotte did?
She really had, with her carefree and sexy ways, her foul mouth, and her in-your-face attitude that made him smile. It seemed crazy. Two days ago he’d been pushing her away; now he was afraid he might never want to let go.
Chill out. First things first. Defuse this sucker, then worry about Charlotte.
But since his BUD/s days, he’d had a tradition. He’d make a wish before he made the all-important cut. If he lived through it, he might get what he asked for, a lot like blowing out his birthday candles.
Cowboy took his wire cutters and positioned them over the wire. An image of Charlotte’s sweet face came to his mind. He wanted more of her beyond this week, beyond this ship, beyond just sex. If he made it through this one, he wanted to give them a try.
He kept his eyes open as he squeezed the handles. The cutters snapped together with a quiet click, the timer went dark, and Cowboy exhaled the breath he’d been holding.
The bomb was deactivated.
21
Charlotte stoodwith the others in a hallway far from the theater, telling herself Cowboy knew what he was doing. She knew that was true, but she still wanted to bite her fingernails to the quick like she used to when she was younger, and she crossed her arms over her chest to keep from doing it.
“He’s going to be okay,” said Abby. “He does this for a living. He knows what he’s doing.”
Charlotte nodded noncommittally. She and Harrison exchanged a knowing look. Cowboy was an expert, but even that provided little comfort. At this very moment, Leo was defusing a bomb that had the power to kill him.
She felt the urge to cry and bit down on her lip to stifle it. He was such a great guy. The world needed him to be okay. She needed him to be okay.
He’s fine. He knows what he’s doing. He’s a Navy SEAL, for God’s sake.
Her eyes closed. She willed him to walk around the corner so she could throw her arms around him and squeeze him tightly. How she loved their night of passion and the easy comfort between them. He felt good by her side, as if he was meant to be there and had always been so. Already she knew her bed would feel empty without him, the nights both longer and cold.
Maybe we can see each other after this cruise.
That was not part of the plan, but hope lit in her chest like a distant candle, small and far away but visible in the darkness. Wasn’t he enjoying their time together, too? Surely it was possible he would want it to continue.
She wanted it more than she had any right to want anything, and the intensity of her longing frightened her. Since her divorce, she’d tried to embrace being alone. She’d never done that before, hopping from one boyfriend to another until she’d married Rick her senior year of high school, and she didn’t expect to want another man in her life so soon.
But I do.
