SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9) by Sharon Hamilton Page A

She would read on her breaks. She’d listen to audio books on her way into work and on the way to the store and on the way home. Some of her friends joked with her that she spent most of her waking life in a fantasy. And it was nearly true. Heroes could be counted on, the end always turned out the way she wanted it. What was wrong with that, compared to the reality of unending tragedy in the news and on TV?
    But today, she couldn’t get into the stories. She’d tried three different books on her To Be Read pile, books she was dying to read, and she couldn’t get past the first chapter in any of them. This had never happened before.
    By now, Rory had been transported to the hospital where the surgery would be done to repair his hip. Lindsay called her midafternoon to ask if she’d heard from Rory, and she had to tell her sadly, no.
    “And don’t go telling him I’m waiting for a call, either. He has a lot to take care of and deal with. Speaking with me is not a priority right now, nor should it be,” she said and hoped Lindsay would believe her lie. She was hoping for the best, but she was building that shield around her heart just in case.
    On the way home, she decided to skip her dinner and attend the Bikram yoga class, since she had her gym bag with her containing her clothing, mat, and stainless steel water bottle.
    Midway through the class she was grateful for the peace it gave her. Worries of the day shed off her as she sweated in the tiny room, following the instructions from the “little brown man” as Lindsay had called him, Baba Omar. He had laughed when he teased them one day that after going to a month worth of classes with him, “You won’t be able to get my voice out of your head.” But as the minutes ticked by, the man whose voice Megan was hearing now, despite how hard she tried to push it to the side, didn’t sound anything like her instructor.
    She tried concentrating on the heat and how much her body was sweating. That worked better.
    Lindsay wasn’t there, so after class, Megan walked outside to her car alone. She stopped at a health food store on the way home and picked up some fresh carrot and ginger juice and had them add a shot of wheat grass. Her nerves were calm. She felt serene.
    A hot shower was next. Stripping off her yoga pants and other clothes, she enjoyed a long shower, washing off everything from the day. Her intention was to curl up with a book, grab a big glass of ice water, and read until she fell asleep.
    Catching herself in the mirror, she noticed the rosy glow to her complexion, partly from the heat, but partly from the flame that burned in her chest. New love felt like this. The dull ache for him, missing him, was painful. But it was evidence that she was alive and the emotions growing inside her were exciting and new and would grow regardless of anything she could logically reason with herself or explain away.
    The neighbor’s dog was barking again like it had last night. Megan hoped she’d be able to sleep through it.
    When she set her alarm, she noticed she’d missed a call. She quickly retrieved the message, her heart pounding in her chest.
    Hi there, Megan. It’s Rory. I’ve just settled in at the medical center in LA. Got me poked and hooked up and ready for surgery tomorrow, so I’m signing off early for bed. Fingers crossed I’ll not wind up in a walker. I’ll make sure Lindsay lets you know how it went. Glad you got home safe. Some day, when I’m done with the surgeries and the healing, I’ll give you a call. Until then, be safe!

Chapter 17
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    I n his private room at the hospital in L.A. Raymond Corrigan met the man in the blue suit with the alligator briefcase. Only a few places in California you could get away with showing a case like that. He made a point of being obvious about noticing it since that’s why the man had brought it.
    His name was Tariq, which wasn’t his real name, but something that was considerably shorter than his real name,