Securing Brenae Read online

  Securing Brenae

  SEAL of Protection: Legacy, Book 1.5

  Susan Stoker

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  About the Author

  Also by Susan Stoker

  Securing Sidney Sample

  Chapter 1

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Susan Stoker

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Edited by Kelli Collins

  Manufactured in the United States

  Rear Admiral Dag Creasy has enjoyed a long, successful naval career. It’s not all been smooth sailing, but his beautiful and generous wife, Brenae, has been at his side for nearly three decades, helping him weather every storm. He loves her more than words can express, their relationship only growing stronger with every year. Now, they’re both excited and anxious for the completion of their dream home, where they’ll start the next chapter of their lives together…

  If an unexpected menace doesn’t cut their storybook romance short.

  * * *

  ** Securing Brenae is a short story in the SEAL of Protection: Legacy Series. Each book is a stand-alone, with no cliffhanger endings.

  * * *

  To sign up for Susan’s Newsletter go to: http://www.stokeraces.com/contact-1.html

  Chapter One

  Thirty-One Years Ago

  Annapolis, MD

  * * *

  Brenae Goldner leaned her ass against the countertop in the kitchen of the diner she worked at and closed her eyes. Her day had already been long and tiring before the group of Naval Academy midshipmen had arrived. After forty-five minutes of trying to keep herself out of the way of their roaming hands and listening to their crude pick-up lines and innuendos, she was completely done with today.

  All she wanted to do was go back to her tiny little studio apartment and sleep. But after her shift at the diner she had to study for her accounting exam the next day. She was in her second year at the local community college and would be graduating with her Associate’s Degree in Business at the end of the year.

  If she was being honest, all she really wanted to do with her life was be a wife and mother, but that wouldn’t exactly pay the bills. And since she didn’t even have a boyfriend, that goal seemed a long ways off.

  “You all right, Brenae?” asked Joe, one of the short-order cooks.

  She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah, just taking a breather,” she told him with a smile.

  The older man gave her a sympathetic look. “Want me to go out there and knock some heads together?”

  Brenae chuckled. “I think I'm good. But thanks.”

  The serious look Joe gave her made Brenae miss her folks more than she did already. After she’d graduated from high school, they’d decided they’d had enough of the sometimes brutal winters in Maryland and had moved down to Florida. She’d grown apart from her high school girlfriends, and because she went to school and worked so many hours at the diner to pay for her classes, food, rent, and everything else she needed, she didn’t have time to go out and make new friends.

  The stress Brenae was under made her shoulders slump once more. She was tired. Physically and mentally. And the midshipmen she had to go out and deal with weren’t helping one bit.

  Generally, she didn’t mind that the diner was near the US Naval Academy. It meant that business was rarely slow, which made her shifts go by faster and she earned more tips, but it also meant she had to deal with the men and women who were training to be the future leaders in the navy.

  Most were kind and pleasant to be around, but there were also those who had no intention of making the navy their career and were only attending the academy because Mom or Dad said they had to or because of some family legacy.

  Brenae hated to discriminate or make generalizations about people, but tonight was one of those nights she couldn’t help it. The six men at the table were loud, rude, obnoxious, and spoiled. She knew the one who had been the most handsy was named Enzo. Each time he’d put his hand on her arm or ass, his buddies would egg him on. The last time she’d gone out there to take their dessert order, he’d had the audacity to slip his fingers up under her skirt and touch the back of her thigh. Brenae had glared at him and told him to keep his hands to himself, but he’d merely laughed. She had a feeling she was now a challenge to him, and she knew enough to know that wasn’t a good thing.

  Sighing, she smiled at Joe when she saw he was still eyeballing her. “I’m really okay, Joe. I just need to bring them their dessert, then they’ll leave.”

  “When you’re off shift, let me know and I’ll escort you to your car.”

  “Thanks,” she told him softly. Joe was older than the other cooks, but he’d always gone out of his way to make sure she felt safe, including walking her the twenty feet from the back door to her car. She always protested, saying it wasn’t that far and she’d been fine, but he insisted. Brenae knew he was married with two kids, and she admired his work ethic and the fact that he never ever said anything derogatory about his wife, even in jest. He was one hundred percent devoted to her, and Brenae wanted what he had more than anything in the world.

  She was only twenty, but the more time went on, the more she felt as if her opportunity to meet someone who was as devoted to her as Joe was to his wife was slipping away. A lot of people met their significant others in high school or college. And since her late teens, she’d been way too busy studying and working to take the time to go to parties or hang out anywhere else to meet guys.

  “Order’s up,” said Robert, one of the other cooks, motioning to the array of desserts he’d prepared for her table.

  “Thanks,” she told him with a nod. Break time was over. She walked over and arranged the various plates of sweets on her tray. Taking a deep breath, Brenae lifted the tray and headed out into the diner, praying she could deliver the food and escape without another incident.

  Dag Creasy sat at a back table in the diner and watched the pretty waitress as she exited the back of the restaurant and headed for the table of assholes she’d been waiting on for the last hour or so. He was supposed to be studying, and had decided a change in venue would help him. He was in his third year at the Naval Academy and couldn’t wait to graduate and start on his lifelong dream of being an officer.

  But he couldn’t concentrate because the assholes nearby were being overly obnoxious and disrespectful to their waitress. If there was one thing Dag couldn’t stand, it was people being rude to others. Especially when being rude involved sexually harassing someone. He’d been keeping his eye on the waitress, and the last time she’d been to the other table, a guy who was in a class below him named Enzo’d had the nerve to slide his hand up the back of her skirt.

  Dag had been halfway out of his chair when the waitress had quickly stepped away from Enzo, glared at him, and w
alked into the kitchen with their order.

  Enzo was a bully. There was no other way to describe him. He didn’t give a shit about the navy or the academy. Rumor had it he was there only because his parents forced him attend. He was smart, had to be in order to get in, but he was an asshole.

  His studying forgotten, Dag watched as the waitress cautiously approached the table with a tray loaded down with desserts. He was glad to see she stayed away from Enzo as she began to distribute the various plates. But eventually she had to get near him to serve his dessert—and just as he had the last time she was there, he slipped his hand up the back of her skirt.

  But this time the waitress couldn’t back away from him because he’d latched onto her thigh with his hand, preventing her from escaping.

  Dag couldn’t stop himself from moving. He was out of his seat and halfway across the diner before he could talk himself out of it. If the waitress had looked like she was enjoying Enzo’s hand on her or his flirting, he would’ve minded his own business. But the scared look on her face and the way she winced when his fingers dug into her skin made it impossible for him to sit back and do nothing.

  He approached the underclassman and, without a word, reached out and grabbed his arm, squeezing a pressure point and forcing Enzo to drop his hand from the waitress’s leg.

  “Ow, what the fuck?” Enzo complained.

  “Did she ask you to touch her?” Dag asked. To his surprise, instead of fleeing to the back, the waitress stepped closer to him. They weren’t touching, but he could practically feel her body heat against his side and back.

  “Not with words, but with her eyes,” Enzo said, trying to pull his arm from Dag’s grasp, with no luck.

  “I did not,” the waitress fired back. “In fact, I told you several times to keep your hands to yourself!”

  Dag liked her spunk, but he didn’t like the quiver he could hear in her voice, as if she was only pretending to be tough.

  “So she told you to fuck off and you still put your hands on her?” Dag asked in a low, deadly tone.

  “I thought she was playing hard to get,” Enzo mumbled.

  Dag knew he was lying. Even from across the room, he could read the “stay away” vibes the waitress had been putting off.

  “Are you all even supposed to be eating that shit?” he asked, changing the focus of his anger to the entire table of midshipmen. There were strict rules for them, and since the men at this table were only in their second year, they had more rigorous rules than the upperclassmen did. Including what they shouldn’t be eating—namely, the gluttonous desserts currently on their table.

  Dag had a good reputation at the academy, and he knew, as did the assholes at the table, that he was in line to become a brigade commander the next year. Someone who was chosen for outstanding leadership performance and was in charge of the brigade’s day-to-day activities and the training of other midshipmen. Basically, class president. Dag would love to take on that responsibility. In the meantime, he’d be damned if he sat around and let these midshipmen harass and bully the waitress.

  “If I were you,” he said sternly, “I’d get your asses back to Bancroft Hall and confess in detail how you broke the Honor Concept and volunteer for additional sexual harassment training.”

  Enzo glared at him, while the other midshipmen’s eyes widened in dismay. They knew better than to defy him. They all knew he could make their lives miserable at the academy.

  Dag let go of Enzo’s arm and took a step back, making sure to keep himself between the waitress and the table. “And don’t forget to leave your waitress a twenty percent tip,” he added as the men gathered up their things. There wasn’t much free time at the academy, but the study hours from eight to eleven each night were a chance for the midshipmen to take a break from the everyday monotony by escaping for a while. Dag knew he’d be recommending these six men’s ability to leave the campus was curtailed for a while.

  Without another word, the men slunk out of the small diner into the night and headed back to the dorm.

  Dag turned to the waitress. “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I apologize on behalf of those jackals. Not all of us are cut from the same cloth.”

  She studied him with a look in her eyes he couldn’t interpret.

  “They seemed almost afraid of you,” she said after a moment.

  Dag shrugged. “My plan is to make the navy a life-long career. I take every single thing to do with my future very seriously. I’ve made a name for myself at the academy for being a straight-shooter and a leader.”

  She nodded and held out a hand. “I’m Brenae. Brenae Goldner.”

  “Dag Creasy,” he said, taking hold of her outstretched hand.

  The second their hands touched, Dag felt an almost sharp zing race up his arm and into his chest. They stood there silently for several seconds, clasping hands and staring into each others’ eyes.

  “It’s good to meet you,” Brenae said softly.

  “Likewise,” Dag told her. When he finally loosened his grip on her hand, he felt almost bereft that he had to let her go. The feeling was strange. His entire life, he’d set his sights on becoming a naval officer. Eventually he wanted to be a Navy SEAL. In the upcoming summer, he was taking his warfare cruise with Special Warfare and couldn’t wait to see firsthand how the SEALs operated.

  But all of a sudden, and for the first time, he was dreading spending the time away from Annapolis.

  “I get off shift in twenty minutes,” Brenae said shyly. “Any chance you’d like to have a cup of coffee with me?”

  “Absolutely.” He liked that Brenae wasn’t afraid to ask him out.

  Okay, they weren’t actually going out on a date…but he could pretend.

  She nodded at him, then backed away, only breaking eye contact at the last minute when she had to turn and head back through the door leading into the kitchen.

  Brenae had no idea what she was dong. This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t forward like this. But there was something about Dag that had her acting out of character.

  Everything about the man who’d come to her rescue appealed to her. His hair was closely cropped, as was the hair of all the guys who went to the academy. He had brown eyes and she loved how tall he was. She could tell he was muscular and strong by the way he’d easily controlled Enzo. She definitely liked how sure he was about what he wanted to do with his life.

  It might be a mistake to get involved with a navy man, she knew he didn’t have a lot of time to do anything other than the activities planned by the academy, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She hurried through the last of the things she needed to do in order to go off shift and wished she was wearing something other than the cheesy diner uniform as she wandered back into the dining room.

  Dag stood as she approached, which made her smile. He certainly had good manners, and that went a long way in her eyes. So many guys today were only interested in a good time, they didn’t even think about things like opening doors, saying please and thank you, and generally just being respectful.

  “Hi,” she said as she approached him.

  “Hi,” he returned, then gestured to the seat across from him.

  Brenae slipped into it—and felt awkward all of a sudden. What was she doing? She didn’t know this guy. Just because he’d stood up for her and was gorgeous didn’t mean he was interested in her in any way. Maybe he was just humoring her. She hadn’t really given him much choice but to agree to her stupid offer for coffee, what with being a ridiculous “damsel in distress” and all. And shit, she’d forgotten to even bring them coffee.

  “Stop worrying,” he said gently as he settled himself in the seat across from her.

  She bit her lip, then asked, “How did you know I was stressing?”

  “I can just tell. I wouldn’t have agreed to coffee if I didn’t want to.”

  Mentally sighing in relief, Brenae nodded. “Some waitress I am, I forgot to even bring us drinks.” br />
  Dag shrugged. “It’s okay. I really only wanted to spend some time getting to know you.”

  “Why?” The question popped out before she could call it back. Brenae knew she was blushing, but couldn’t stop it.

  Dag chuckled. “I like that you say what you’re thinking.”

  “It gets me in trouble more often than not,” she admitted.

  “But it’s real. And I admire that. And to answer your question, you caught my eye the second I came in tonight. And not to freak you out or anything, but I watched how you dealt with Enzo and his buddies all night, and until he’d decided to put his hands on you, I was impressed at how you stayed friendly, but kept a professional distance with them at the same time.”

  “Thanks.”

  “That happen a lot?”

  “What?”

  “Assholes thinking it’s okay to touch you without your permission?”

  Brenae shrugged. “It kind of comes with the job.”

  “No,” Dag said firmly. “Fuck that. No one gets to touch you if you don’t want them too.”

  She blinked at the vehemence in his voice. “It’s not a big deal, Dag. Most of the time it’s just them touching my hand, or maybe my leg…over my skirt.”

  Dag leaned forward, and she couldn’t look away from the intensity in his gaze. “Wrong. It’s not okay. It’s never okay. And you shouldn’t let anyone talk to you or touch you in a way you aren’t comfortable with. It’s disrespectful as hell and harassment.”

  Brenae thought about it for only a second before realizing he was right, of course. She’d kinda just taken the harassment as coming with the job, part of being a waitress, but honestly, if someone had put their hands on her like Enzo had before she’d started working at the diner, she would’ve lost her shit. Just because she was in a service job didn’t mean she had to put up with that kind of thing. “You’re right.”