Squared Away Read online

  Squared Away

  By Annabeth Albert

  In the wake of tragedy, SEAL Mark Whitley rushed stateside to act as guardian to his sister’s three young children. But a conflicting will could give custody to someone else—someone Mark remembers as a too young, too hot, wild party boy. Even after six years, Mark can’t shake the memory of his close encounter with Isaiah James, or face up to what it says about his own sexuality.

  Isaiah’s totally over the crush that made him proposition Mark all those years ago. In fact, he’s done with crushing on the wrong men altogether. For now, he’s throwing himself into proving he’s the best person to care for his cousin’s kids. But there’s no denying there’s something sexy about a big, tough military man with a baby in his arms.

  This book is approximately 80,000 words

  One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

  Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Deborah Nemeth

  Dedication

  To A.M. Arthur—your writing inspires me, your friendship and support enrich me, and your willingness to help Isaiah and Wizard on their journey means the world to me.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Excerpt from Wheels Up by Annabeth Albert

  Author Note

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Annabeth Albert

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Six years ago

  “I’m going to do it.” Isaiah’s voice was full of confidence he wasn’t entirely sure he felt as he tugged his friend Bree into an enclave off the main ballroom. “By the end of the night, no more V-card.”

  “You’re going to lose your virginity at your cousin’s wedding?” Bree didn’t sound so sure. “No offense, but is anyone here even playing for your team?”

  The large ballroom swirled with people in fancy clothes, suit porn everywhere for Isaiah’s viewing pleasure. His cousin Cal having his wedding at a hotel and spa renowned for its wines when Isaiah couldn’t drink yet was all kinds of cruel, but all the hot guys more than made up for it. And true, most of the guests were Cal and his bride Danielle’s age or more like parental types and other gray-haired relatives. But Isaiah had been scoping out potential targets all night.

  He was determined to not let this opportunity slip away—prom had come and gone, graduation too, and here he was, still a virgin. Prom night had been fun, going with Bree and the rest of the gang as a group, and he wasn’t going to regret going to the school-sponsored “safe” graduation party to satisfy Aunt Cecily, who was Cal’s mother and had largely raised them both, but damn he was ready for some action.

  And not the fumbling around he’d done with Jimmy Sanders last summer. He wanted real, honest-to-god, sweaty, full-on-naked, loud sex. And he knew exactly where he was getting it.

  “Him,” he said to Bree, jerking his head in the direction of the bridal party table he’d just escaped from. Everyone was still milling around, finding their seats and greeting people, and there were only so many congratulations for Cal that he could stand through. Besides, he’d needed to find Bree, tell her his big plan. He narrowly avoided the temptation to point. Bree would know exactly who he meant anyway.

  Predictably, she gasped. “Mark? Danielle’s brother? Have you lost your mind? He’s so out of our league that I’m not sure we’re allowed to share his airspace. Isaiah, he’s a SEAL.”

  “Exactly.” Isaiah grinned at her. Mark had opted for a gray tux like the rest of the wedding party, not his naval dress uniform, which was a shame as far as Isaiah was concerned. There was nothing quite like military eye candy. But even in a tux, Mark cut an imposing figure. Caramel brown hair, the sort that seemed to have dozens of shades dancing around, cut close. Taller than Cal with a swimmer’s build—wide shoulders, slim frame, long torso and legs, and muscles that weren’t as jacked as some SEALs that Isaiah had seen around town, but still mighty darn impressive.

  And he was older, twenty-two or twenty-three now, not quite as old as Cal and Danielle. This wasn’t the first of Cal’s friends Isaiah had crushed over, but most of those fantasies died quick, brutal deaths when the guys treated him like some annoying gnat of a kid. Mark was different. All week he’d been around, helping with the wedding prep, which meant lots of hanging with Isaiah, Cal, and Danielle and the rest of the wedding party, and he talked to Isaiah like he was people, asked him about college, like Isaiah had much choice there—his professor dad meant he was going whether he wanted to or not, but Mark acted like his preferences about career paths mattered. Best of all, he laughed with Isaiah, not at him, and his laugh was low and musical and enough to make Isaiah half-hard.

  And he was a SEAL. Growing up with Coronado just a half hour away, Isaiah was used to military guys, but it was only in the past year or so that he’d added being the filling in a SEAL sandwich to his life goals. And okay, Mark wasn’t exactly a hot threesome after a night of clubbing, but Isaiah was also a realist. Those dreams would have to wait. But this one? The one where he and Mark had a hot wedding hookup? That was totally on.

  “Are you sure he’s into guys?” Bree asked, straightening her shimmery pink dress. It was the same one she’d worn to prom—her mom had made her promise to get the second wear out of it. “Because if you’re wrong, he’s a SEAL. Those guys know a dozen ways to kill you without leaving a trace.”

  “I’m sure.” Isaiah wasn’t lying. Mark was into dudes, at least somewhat. And unfortunately, it wasn’t how he looked at Isaiah with those kind hazel eyes that revealed his inner truth—it was how he stared at Cal when he thought no one was looking. And Isaiah knew that unrequited look all too well. Mark gazed at Cal like his sister had swooped in and stolen the puppy he’d wanted for himself and he had no idea how to snatch it back.

  Well, too bad for Mark, Cal was oblivious. And not the least bit gay or bi. But luckily, Isaiah figured he was quite the consolation prize. He’d help Mark forget Cal, get rid of his pesky virginity, and wake up sore. Everybody wins.

  The emcee signaled for people to take their seats for dinner, forcing Isaiah to head back to the bridal table since he was one of the groomsmen like Mark. Not the best man, and that had stung a little, Cal choosing a college friend, claiming he’d throw the better bachelor party. Fuck that noise. Isaiah had grown up with Cal. That should count for something. And Danielle hadn’t even had the grace to sit him next to Mark, instead surrounding him on both sides with two sorority sisters of hers who talked around him like he wasn’t even there.

  But then the best thing happened as his eyes caught Mark’s down at the other end of the table. And Mark smiled at him, a sympathetic quirk of the mout
h, like he too wanted to escape his dinner companions. Isaiah loved Mark’s smile, loved how it made him feel like they were partners in crime or something, even if they were just out on a tuxedo shop run or other errand together. And right now, that smile was everything as it gave him hope that maybe his plan could work.

  The key was going to be catching Mark alone. Finally after the dinner, and the interminable speeches, and the start of the dancing when he had to watch Mark dance with two different bridesmaids, he watched Mark slip outside, heading into the historic gardens that ringed the ballroom. He gave him a few moments’ head start, then snuck off after him, catching up to him on a brick path near a stone grotto.

  “You looking for a place to smoke?” He didn’t bother trying to sneak up on Mark—the guy’s well-honed senses had probably been aware of him since before Isaiah’s feet left the patio. Sure enough, Mark didn’t look all that surprised to see him.

  “That’ll kill you slow.” Mark gave him a stern look. Darn. That had seemed like a good opening—all the military guys on TV seemed to smoke when stressed. “And don’t even ask if I can get you something from the bar—I already promised Cal I wouldn’t.”

  “Cal doesn’t want me to have any fun. And it’s not fair. He and Danielle party all the freaking time.” Isaiah still wasn’t entirely sure what Danielle’s job was beyond professional socialite, always dragging Cal to this or that event, where they’d come back trashed in the wee hours of the morning. Mark should be more concerned with Cal’s liver than Isaiah’s lungs.

  “You’ll have plenty of time for it when you get to college. And just take it slow, yeah?”

  Slow was most definitely not what Isaiah wanted. Fast. Hard. Reckless. He wanted all that and more with Mark. But what he needed right now was a way to get Mark to stop sounding so much like a big brother. Music filtered out from reception.

  “We should dance.” He gave Mark what he hoped was a winning smile.

  “Dance?” Mark’s eyes bulged like Isaiah had suggested a cockroach-stomping competition.

  “Yeah. I saw you teaching that bridesmaid Heidi how to waltz. I want to learn too. Unless you’re too chicken to dance with a guy?”

  As he’d hoped, Mark made a scoffing noise. “I’m not chicken. But I only know how to lead.”

  “That’s fine.” Isaiah stepped closer. He’d follow Mark anywhere. Mark could lead all damn night as far as he was concerned. “Teach me.”

  Mark’s mouth twitched like he was thinking hard. Finally he sighed and held out his hands. “Okay.” His big hand was warm and solid in Isaiah’s, no timidness in his grip like the few times Isaiah had attempted this with Bree at school dances. “It’s actually pretty simple. Just follow me. We’re going to make a box.”

  Isaiah tried to focus on Mark’s words, but it was hard when he could feel his body heat, could smell his spicy aftershave—something with oranges and cinnamon, not unlike the tea Aunt Cecily loved, and he could drink Mark in all night. The song was a mega-popular eighties ballad, and it was perfect for the slow, careful way Mark led him around the brick path.

  “You’re a natural,” Mark praised as they turned.

  “Better than Heidi?” Isaiah couldn’t resist a bit of cheek.

  Mark laughed at that, the low sound Isaiah couldn’t get enough of. “Far better.”

  “Where’d you learn to dance?” he asked, not wanting the lesson to end.

  “My mom insisted. Yacht club functions.” Mark made a face. “Mom never met a club that wasn’t worth joining.”

  “Heard your dad bought a plane. Are they over the yacht phase?” Isaiah tried to act like Mark’s loaded parents weren’t hella intimidating. In addition to the beach house on Coronado where Mark had largely grown up, they had a yacht that had hosted Cal and Danielle’s engagement dinner, and now apparently, they’d added a “small” plane to their list of rich people distractions.

  “Ha. They’re never selling the yacht. But I wish he’d taken more lessons before getting his own plane. I worry.” Mark led Isaiah further down the path, smooth fluid movements.

  “Hey, don’t you like jump out of planes?” Isaiah gazed up at Mark. He was exactly the perfect amount taller, looming over him without giving him a crick in the neck or anything.

  “I do. But my buddies all give me shit because it’s not my favorite thing.”

  “What part is?”

  “I love dives and long swims. Love the burn that comes after you put in the miles.” Mark got the same dreamy look on his face that Bree got when she talked about spinning. Fitness freak people were like alien creatures.

  “I hear all you SEALs have nicknames. What do they call you?”

  “Oh, man.” A reddish tinge crept up Mark’s neck. “We’ve all got stupid ones...”

  “Come on. Tell me.” Isaiah really wanted to know something secret about Mark, something that maybe Cal and Danielle didn’t even know.

  “Okay, okay.” Mark spun him around as the song sped up. “They call me Wizard. Which is silly—”

  “No, it’s not.” It was perfect because there was absolutely something magical about this man. He had the ability to captivate Isaiah’s attention like nothing else ever had.

  “It’s just because I’m good at stitching them back up.” Cheeks still pink, Mark gave a little shrug like he wasn’t all that. Didn’t matter. Isaiah was still impressed that Mark wasn’t that much older than him and was already a SEAL medic, out there putting guys back together in the field. That shit was real.

  “I bet you are. What’s the grossest injury you’ve had to treat?”

  “Oh, man. You do not want to know that.” The song had changed, but Mark kept right on dancing with him. Isaiah wasn’t ever forgetting this night. Mark was indeed a wizard, casting a magical spell over them both.

  “What? I like horror movies. Gross shit doesn’t bug me.”

  “Real life isn’t like the movies.” Mark’s voice turned stern again. “It’s life or death out there, and I’m just trying to keep people alive. I’m not stopping to get grossed out or impressed by the gore.”

  “Yeah.” Duly chastened, Isaiah tightened his grip on Mark’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Mark’s tone softened. “We’re just back from a hard deployment. Didn’t mean to unload on you.”

  Please. Please unload on me. “You need some stress relief.” This was the opening Isaiah had been waiting for.

  “Ha. I finally get leave and it’s all for the wedding. Not that I’m complaining.” His smile was indulgent, and the hope monster fluttered in Isaiah’s gut.

  “Hey, weddings can be fun.” Isaiah let his voice get a little more flirty.

  “For you maybe. All the champagne you can sneak and pretty...people to ogle.” The way he quickly corrected himself said that he’d heard from Cal or Danielle that Isaiah was gay. And he was still dancing with him, so that had to be a positive sign, right?

  The moonlight and low garden lights reflected in Mark’s hair, giving him a halo effect. God, he was so sexy it hurt. Made Isaiah’s breath come faster, muscles trembling under the force of wanting.

  “Lots of hot guys.” He looked right at Mark as he said it, then when Mark didn’t react, he quickly added, “Bree’s having fun with it too. How about you? See anyone hot?”

  Please pick me. Please. Mark looked away. “Not really. Guess I’m still wound up from my mission.”

  “We should unwind you.” Isaiah forced himself to laugh, to put the kind of swagger into his voice that all the older guys had when they hit on someone. He’d been taking notes, but this was the first time he’d really tried.

  “Isaiah...”

  There was a warning there, but it wasn’t a flat-out no, so Isaiah moved closer, letting their torsos brush, making the dance more intimate. Fuck. Mark felt so good, muscular chest against his own, body so warm and solid
.

  Mark inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away, didn’t stop dancing. Surely he felt it too, felt this magic. His head turned, and then he was right there, looking into Isaiah’s eyes, and fuck but Isaiah could drown in that heated look and die a happy, happy man.

  “I’m eighteen now. In case you were worried.”

  “I’m not into guys.” Mark dropped his hands and stepped back. “Sorry.” He was lying. That look hadn’t been nothing. He’d been tempted, maybe even on the verge of doing something, and Isaiah had ruined it with his ill-timed blurt about his age.

  “You are too. I’ve seen how you look at Cal.”

  “I do not... I’ve never...” Mark scrubbed at his hair. “Cal’s been a friend a long time. Practically a brother.”

  “Ha. You don’t want to bone your brother. And that’s how you look at him. Like you’re pissed as hell that Danielle got to him first.”

  “They’re perfect for each other. Maybe too perfect.” Mark gave a shaky laugh. “Like you said, they party too much, and I’m worried about that. That’s probably all you’re seeing.”

  “Nope.” Isaiah closed the distance between them again. “And it’s okay. I’m not going to tell. And Cal can be a jackass sometimes. He’s never going to figure it out either. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to get over it. Try some of that stress relief.”

  “Isaiah...” Mark didn’t move away, instead resting a hand on Isaiah’s shoulder like his hand wasn’t quite sure whether to pull Isaiah closer or push him away. Isaiah made the choice for him, finally giving in to temptation and running his fingers down Mark’s smooth jaw. “We can’t.”

  “We can. No one will have to know.”

  “But I’ll know.” Mark made a tortured sound. “And fuck, you’re eighteen. For all I know, you’re a virgin.”

  “You say it like it’s some disease.” Isaiah hated how defensive he sounded.

  “Oh no. No way.” Mark did pull away then, striding over to a little bench by the grotto. “I’m not going to be your first time.”

  “Why not?” He tried to tamp down the hurt coursing through him. “If not you, it’s going to be someone.”