His Plus One by Kate Aster

Chapter 22

- GRAYDON -

This is gonna hurt.

That’s pretty much the only thought I have in that second while I’m airborne and jumping into the water.

I’ve done my fair share of man overboard drills, some off vessels nearly this big. Others in water a lot colder than this. And in every one of them, I had a few seconds or a flat surface to set up a proper jump so that striking the water wouldn’t feel like I’d just crashed into a brick wall.

But I didn’t exactly have that extra few seconds. And jumping off a rail is a little different, especially when the target is quickly disappearing from range because ships like this don’t stop on a dime.

Besides, when I heard the woman scream that the guy had been drinking, I knew that even if he does survive the fall, he’s not going to last in waves like this in that condition.

Unless he’s a SEAL like me.

Fucking Bottomless Drink Package.

The impact isn’t actually half bad, considering the circumstances. Feet first as we’re taught. Hand bracing to protect my skull. My head’s underwater only a couple seconds until I emerge and look around me trying to find the man down.

And—holy shit—that ship looks like a big mother fucker next to me right now. The wake it leaves is as dangerous as the waves Mother Nature is sending my way.

I kick off my shoes in the water. Where the hell is he? It’s a lot easier spotting him from the tenth deck of a cruise ship rather than down here with the waves splashing over my head. I tread water for a moment to gauge the best swimming direction and, when I hear a garbled cry, I swim toward it.

Then I see a hand—just a hand—pop out from behind a wave. He’s about half the length of the ship away from me, and when he disappears completely from my sight, I’m only hoping he’ll pop back up again.

He does, but he’s definitely not in good shape.

This is usually when things get dicey. The biggest danger to me right now is him fighting me as I try to keep him afloat or him dunking me under as he tries to use my body as a buoy.

“I got you,” I tell him, grabbing ahold of him from behind and keeping his head afloat. “Don’t fight me, man. Just go limp. I can hold you up as long as it takes if you just don’t fight me.”

Of course he struggles, kicking me several times, one blow narrowly missing my groin.

“Can you tread water?” I ask.

“Help,” is the only word I get in reply.

“Then stay still,” I yell at him using my not-so-pleasant command voice.

I hear three blasts of the ship’s horn. It’s about time. Morse code for O—Oscar, or Overboard.

It’s a signal that won’t be lost on the Navy SEALs on the ship.

Right now, I picture every damn one of them pouring out of the casino or wherever the hell they’re spending the last day of the cruise and headed to the side of the boat to see what’s up.

And if the crew doesn’t launch one of those lifeboats soon to retrieve us, I think my brothers will be doing it themselves.

I’m surprisingly not worried about my own survival. The swells aren’t too bad out here, and even though the ocean’s cold, I’m just feeling damn grateful Mason didn’t get married on an Alaska cruise right now.

But this guy I’m holding up, without practice and a lot of training, likely took damage when he hit the water—hopefully not his spine or neck. When the adrenaline rush is gone, I’m betting he’s going to go from struggling in my arms, to begging me to let go of him because he’d rather sink than feel the pain any longer.

“Help,” I hear the guy gasp again, even though I’ve got a firm hold on him now.

“I’ve got you. Can you kick off your shoes?”

I feel him struggle and seem to panic for a minute, but then he seems to relax again, about a pound lighter without soaked shoes pulling him downward.

All the movement gives me hope that he didn’t break anything that will land him in a wheelchair for the rest of his days.

Then he starts puking—likely a mix of a shit-ton of alcohol and all the saltwater he’s taken in over the last few minutes. All those cool rescue shows you see on TV? It’s never as clean or simple as they depict it, and usually, there’s vomit involved.

My legs are kicking fiercely to keep two heads above water. I can keep this up for a long time, especially since we’re in the ocean. The saltwater helps our buoyancy a bit, though I’m kicking myself for not pulling off this damn suit jacket. Even SEALs make mistakes under fire, and I’m just happy this one’s not life-threatening.

“Ship,” I hear the guy gasp in a panic as it’s further and further from us with each passing second.

“Takes a while for it to stop. Don’t worry. They’ll launch a lifeboat and it’ll come get us.” Though I’m feeling less confident they’ll be as quick as I’d like them to be.

Shit, I hope my parents don’t know their son is taking a dip in the ocean right now.

And Hailey? Hell, there I was apologizing for taking action before thinking, and then I impulsively jump overboard.

Way to make an impression on a girl, Graydon. If I can get through this, I’ll spend the rest of my days making it up to her if she’ll let me.

Funny how jumping off the tenth deck of a cruise ship makes a guy rethink taking things slow with a woman. I hear the soft whisper of Hailey’s voice from a few days ago when she was talking about losing her mom. If anyone knows how fleeting life is, it should be me, she had said.

She’s right. I should have booked that second cruise we talked about the instant our feet touched the ground after parasailing. God, I love her. How did it take me this long to realize it? I cared a lot about her, always looked forward to any time together. I admired her more than any woman I’ve ever known.

How the hell did I not realize that all those things can easily add up to love?

The guy I’m holding up seems to have the same line of thinking.

“Wife.” He coughs out the word.

“Stop talking. Save your energy.”

I see one of the lifeboats on the ship start to lower toward the water.

Hot damn.

And none too soon. Because this guy just turned into a dead weight on me.

“Stay with me, buddy.”

Fuck it. Did he have a heart attack on me?

Then he coughs violently.

“Thought I lost you there. This will be easier if you don’t pass out on me.” I spit out some water that sloshed into my mouth. Talking isn’t the smart thing to do right now, but I feel like my voice is the only thing that’s keeping him with me. “What’s your name?”

His reply is garbled. “Robert.”

“Robert, I’m Graydon,” I say, keeping my voice calm as though taking a flying leap off a cruise ship is as ordinary as taking a piss. But I need to keep him from going into shock. “See that lifeboat there, Robert? I want you to just keep watching that.”

I don’t swim in the ship’s direction. It would be a waste of energy that I can use flagging down the lifeboat until they can spot us in these waves.

When they do, it clips along at a not particularly speedy pace toward us.

What I wouldn’t give for one of my Team’s Zodiacs right now.

In situations like this, time either passes in the blink of an eye or at a snail’s pace. Right now, it’s definitely the latter.

When I see a couple crew’s heads popping out of the open bay of the boat and they throw us a life preserver, I’m already counting down the seconds till I can get on that ship again and set my family’s minds at ease.

And Hailey’s. More than anything, I just want to touch her again right now, hold her in my cold arms and let the heat from her warm me. And I might never let go.

I latch onto the preserver with one hand and hold tight to the man because he doesn’t seem to have the energy to grip it.

After they drag us toward the boat and we’re within reach of the ladder, I warn them, “He’s gonna need some help.”

Two of the crew members reach down and grab his arms and hoist him, not too delicately, onto the boat.

They reach down to me, but I grab onto the ladder with one hand and wave them off. “I’m good,” I say, though two men latch onto my upper arms as soon as I’m within reach anyway.

When I’m on board, it’s the first time I can really see the guy I rescued.

Geez, he almost looks like one of my dad’s poker buddies from way back when I was growing up. Probably just drank more than he’s used to and thought a selfie sitting on the rail would be cool to send to his grown kids back home.

I somehow pictured a younger man—one more prone to the party scene.

Not this guy—someone who looks like he’s just approaching retirement age. He’s huddled over, sobbing hysterically and shaking. They wrap him in a blanket.

“I’m no doctor, but I think he needs an IV of saline. Threw up in the water and I think I heard someone say he’d been drinking. He’s likely dehydrated. Might go into shock.”

One of the crew looks at me. “I’m a medic, and you’re right.”

“Do you know him?” Another person asks me as he drapes a blanket over me too. Only then do I realize that I’m shivering.

“Nope.”

“And you went in after someone you didn’t know?”

I shrug. “It’s what I do. He was kicking pretty hard at first out there. So I’m hoping that means his spine’s okay.”

They’ve laid the man down and nearly swaddled him in blankets, leaving one arm exposed as they give him an IV. I listen as they talk to him. Seems like they suspect a mild concussion from the impact of the water, and a couple bone breaks. But his neck and skull held up all right, apparently. He moans from the pain now that the adrenaline is wearing off.

His eyes are shut as he shivers, but then they open to mere slits. He locks his gaze on me. I see him struggle to free his other hand from the blankets and he reaches out. I take his hand in a light grip.

“Thank you,” he says.

I smile. “I was trying to impress a girl on the ship anyway.”

I see a trace of a smile on his lips. Then he shuts his eyes again.

“Is he gonna be okay?” I ask another medic who’s checking my vitals.

“He’ll be fine, thanks to you. Are you Navy?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Because most people who take a dive off a ship don’t live to tell about it. That would have been the case with him if you didn’t go in after him.”

I shrug. “It was a messy jump. Feel a little bruised.”

“If bruises are all you walk away with today, I’d say you’re doing well.” His smile is cautious. “We’ll check you out more thoroughly when we’re on the ship.”

It’s probably another half hour before we’re hooked back up to the ship and lifted onto the lifeboat deck.

I know instinctively that my entire family is going to be waiting for me to step off.

But the only person I want to see right now is Hailey.

Dammit. If there is any way a SEAL could turn a woman off to the prospects of a relationship with him, it would be to jump overboard during the middle of a very important apology.

Wonder if she’ll let me do a do-over?

The hatch of the boat opens to the sound of applause and some of the crew come aboard with a stretcher for the man. They take him off first.

I step off then, hobbling a bit and hating that I do.

My eyes roll at all the phones pointed in my direction, betting this poor man will henceforth be remembered as the guy who fell off a ship. And if he did it taking a drunk selfie while sitting on the rail as I suspect, the damn internet will be quick to judge him.

Poor guy. But at least he’s alive.

The crew members are doing their best to keep the crowd away from me, but Carson manages to get to me first and he moves to give me the famous Adler half-hug.

He shakes his head latching onto me, seeming to sense an exhaustion I’d never admit to out loud. “Hell of a stunt you pulled. Glad you came out alive, Bro.”

Then Colt comes over to my other side to hold me up, both brothers bearing nearly my full weight, as brothers do. “Holy shit, Graydon, when I told you to do something dramatic, this is not what I had in mind.”

I chuckle. “Neither did I.”

Mason parts the crowd so that my mom and dad can make their way through. “Dammit, Graydon. I know little brothers crave attention, but there are easier ways to get it,” Mason says as my mom opens her arms to embrace me.

It breaks my heart to see the tears in her eyes. “I’m fine, Mom. No harm, no foul,” I assure her.

When she hugs me, I find my eyes still searching the crowd for Hailey.

“Why did you do that? Why did you risk that?” Mom gives my arm a little slap. “You put me through enough when you deploy, but now this?”

His eyes moist, my dad shakes his head. “She sounds mad, but she’s not. We were just so scared, Son.”

“It was a small risk. I knew I could handle—”

“Graydon!”

The sound of the voice I hear then floods me with satisfaction.

“Let her through. Let her through.” Max, latched onto Hailey’s arm, is barking at the crowd.

And then I feel it—that warm embrace that I swear I’d be content to feel every day for the rest of my life. Hailey.

The rush of emotions I feel inside me is more powerful than any ocean could be.

Only then do I notice her entire body is shaking, sobbing.

“I’m so, so sorry I worried you,” I tell her. Guilt presses downward on my soul.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she breathes out. “You came back to me. That’s all that matters.”

She presses her lips to my mouth—so damn warm compared to mine, and I savor the feel of them. I practically exult in the power her kiss has over me—the only thing that could warm me this much after so long in a cold ocean.

“I sort of blew that apology, I guess,” I tell her when our lips part.

“It was beautiful—up until that point you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m sor—”

She touches her fingers to my lips to silence me. “Don’t. If any woman understands that this is just what you do, who you are—it should be me.”

She’s right. In fact, I realize now that she’s the only woman who’s ever seen me fresh off a mission, adrenaline still pumping, blood still wet on my uniform.

How rare is that? For a SEAL to find someone he loves who knows this other side to him? Even Freya has no idea what Mason really does in the field—only a vague understanding that is pretty much doled out to her in books and movies. By the time Mason comes home to her after a mission, he’s seen at least three docs, including one or two psychs.

But Hailey has seen it. She might not be at my side when I jump from an aircraft into danger. She might not see the shooting or be rocked by the explosions.

But she has been as close to it as any woman I’ve ever known.

No wonder I’ve fallen for her. Completely.

“Besides, I just gave up my last chance to do karaoke on this cruise tonight,” she adds with a laugh that sounds forced. “So that only means that we have to take another as soon as possible.”

I grin. “I’ll take you on any ship you want.”

“And I’ll take any ship at all, so long as you’re on it.” She cocks her head suddenly. “On it, not in the ocean next to it. Okay, Lieutenant?”

“It’s a deal, Glasses. I love you,” I say, sensing all the people still watching us. I can’t wait to tell her the same words again tonight, without an audience.

“And I love you, Graydon.” A single tear rolls down her cheek as she says it.

I kiss it away.

Someone unfamiliar touches my shoulder. “Sir, we’d like to take you back to the infirmary. Make sure you’re okay.”

“Only if you promise you’ll have me out of there by sunset. I want to enjoy it with my girlfriend. If she’ll let me back into our suite after all the trouble I’ve caused her.”

From the sparkle in her eyes, I know she’ll say yes. Yet still, she means so much that I’m holding my breath until she smiles, wide and stunning.

“I’ll let you back into the suite—and into my life. But you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you leave my side right now. I’ll come with you to the infirmary.”

I shake my head. “It’ll probably be chaos there right now. That other guy wasn’t in the best shape. Let me go now, and I’ll promise you, here and now, that I’ll always come back to you.”

I kiss her soft lips again, letting my fingertips weave into her dark hair, and ignoring all the phones pointed in our direction. And when our lips part, I memorize the sight of her—the curve of her cheeks, the blue of her eyes, and the fullness of her lips as I brush my finger against them. And those wonderful thick-framed glasses that first caught my eye four long years ago.

I’ll always come back to you.

Such a dangerous pledge from a SEAL like me. But I know in my heart, it’s one I can make.