Navy grooms, p.1
Navy Grooms, page 1
Navy Brat
Erin MacNamera has one rule: never fall for a navy man. But from the pulse-stopping moment her eyes meet Lieutenant Brandon Davis’s across a crowded lounge, Erin knows life will never be the same. Sexy, tender and strong, Brandon is all she’d ever dreamed of in a man, but he’s also navy—and as a navy brat from way back, she knows better than to give her heart to a seafaring man.
Navy Woman
Busy attorney Catherine Fredrickson loves her job at a submarine base, but her new boss, Royce Nyland, has her spirits sinking fast. The icy single dad is distant, demanding...and incredibly attractive. And though he initially keeps her at arm’s length, together they brew a stormy passion that is impossible to deny. Though the laws of the sea deem naval fraternizing strictly taboo, how long can they resist romance?
Praise for the novels of #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
“Debbie Macomber tells women’s stories in a way no one else does.”
—BookPage
“Macomber is a skilled storyteller.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Whether [Debbie Macomber] is writing lighthearted romps or more serious relationship books, her novels are always engaging stories that accurately capture the foibles of real-life men and women with warmth and humor.”
—Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
“Bestselling Macomber...sure has a way of pleasing readers.”
—Booklist
“Macomber is a master storyteller.”
—Times Record News
“With first-class author Debbie Macomber, it’s quite simple—she gives readers an exceptional, unforgettable story every time, and her books are always, always keepers!”
—ReadertoReader.com
“No one writes better women’s contemporary fiction.”
—RT Book Reviews
DEBBIE
MACOMBER
Navy
Grooms
Also available from Debbie Macomber and MIRA Books
Blossom Street
The Shop on Blossom Street
A Good Yarn
Susannah’s Garden
Back on Blossom Street
Twenty Wishes
Summer on Blossom Street
Hannah’s List
The Knitting Diaries “The Twenty-First Wish”
A Turn in the Road
Cedar Cove
16 Lighthouse Road
204 Rosewood Lane
311 Pelican Court
44 Cranberry Point
50 Harbor Street
6 Rainier Drive
74 Seaside Avenue
8 Sandpiper Way
92 Pacific Boulevard
1022 Evergreen Place
Christmas in Cedar Cove (5-B Poppy Lane and A Cedar Cove Christmas)
1105 Yakima Street
1225 Christmas Tree Lane
The Dakota Series
Dakota Born
Dakota Home
Always Dakota
Buffalo Valley
The Manning Family
The Manning Sisters (The Cowboy’s Lady and The Sheriff Takes a Wife)
The Manning Brides (Marriage of Inconvenience and Stand-In Wife)
The Manning Grooms (Bride on the Loose and Same Time, Next Year)
Christmas Books
A Gift to Last
On a Snowy Night
Home for the Holidays
Glad Tidings
Christmas Wishes
Small Town Christmas
When Christmas Comes (now retitled Trading Christmas)
There’s Something About Christmas
Christmas Letters
The Perfect Christmas
Choir of Angels (Shirley, Goodness and Mercy, Those Christmas Angels and Where Angels Go)
Call Me Mrs. Miracle
Heart of Texas
VOLUME 1
(Lonesome Cowboy and Texas Two-Step)
VOLUME 2
(Caroline’s Child and Dr. Texas)
VOLUME 3
(Nell’s Cowboy and Lone Star Baby)
Promise, Texas
Return to Promise
Midnight Sons
Alaska Skies
(Brides for Brothers and The Marriage Risk)
Alaska Nights
(Daddy’s Little Helper and Because of the Baby)
Alaska Home
(Falling for Him, Ending in Marriage and Midnight Sons and Daughters)
This Matter of Marriage
Montana
Thursdays at Eight
Between Friends
Changing Habits
Married in Seattle (First Comes Marriage and Wanted: Perfect Partner)
Right Next Door (Father’s Day and The Courtship of Carol Sommars)
Wyoming Brides (Denim and Diamonds and The Wyoming Kid)
Fairy Tale Weddings (Cindy and the Prince and Some Kind of Wonderful)
The Man You’ll Marry (The First Man You Meet and The Man You’ll Marry)
Orchard Valley Grooms (Valerie and Stephanie)
Orchard Valley Brides (Norah and Lone Star Lovin’)
The Sooner the Better
An Engagement in Seattle (Groom Wanted and Bride Wanted)
Out of the Rain (Marriage Wanted and Laughter in the Rain)
Learning to Love (Sugar and Spice and Love by Degree)
You...Again (Baby Blessed and Yesterday Once More)
The Unexpected Husband (Jury of His Peers and Any Sunday)
Three Brides, No Groom
Love in Plain Sight (Love ’n’ Marriage and Almost an Angel)
I Left My Heart (A Friend or Two and No Competition)
Marriage Between Friends (White Lace and Promises and Friends—And Then Some)
A Man’s Heart (The Way to a Man’s Heart and Hasty Wedding)
North to Alaska (That Wintry Feeling and Borrowed Dreams)
On a Clear Day
(Starlight and Promise Me Forever)
To Love and Protect
(Shadow Chasing and For All My Tomorrows)
Home in Seattle
(The Playboy and the Widow and Fallen Angel)
Together Again
(The Trouble with Caasi and Reflections of Yesterday)
The Reluctant Groom
(All Things Considered and Almost Paradise)
A Real Prince
(The Bachelor Prince and Yesterday’s Hero)
Private Paradise (in That Summer Place)
Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove Cookbook
Debbie Macomber’s Christmas Cookbook
Table of Contents
Navy Brat
Navy Woman
Excerpt from Herons Landing by JoAnn Ross
NAVY BRAT
For Marcia, Catherine, Kathy and Pam and others like them, who’ve picked up the pieces of their lives and taught me the meaning of the word courage.
Special thanks to
Gene Romano,
Senior Chief Journalist, Naval Base Seattle
Barbara Davis,
Kitsap County Community Action Program
and
The Olympic College Women in Transition Group
Plus
navy wives
Rose Marie Harris
Jan Evans
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Epilogue
One
He was the handsomest man in the bar, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
It was all Erin MacNamera could do to keep her own coffee-brown eyes trained away from him. He sat on the bar stool, his back to the multitiered display of ornamental liquor bottles. His elbows were braced against the polished mahogany counter, and he nonchalantly held a bottle of imported German beer in his hand.
Against her will, Erin’s gaze meandered back to him. He seemed to be waiting for her attention, and he smiled, his mouth lifting sensuously at the edges. Erin quickly looked away and tried to concentrate on what her friend was saying.
“...Steve and me.”
Erin hadn’t a clue as to what she’d missed. Aimee was in the habit of talking nonstop, especially when she was upset. The reason Erin and her co-worker were meeting was that Aimee wanted to discuss the problems she was having in her ten-year marriage.
Marriage was something Erin fully intended to avoid, at least for a good long while. She was focusing her energies on her career and on teaching a class titled Women in Transition two evenings a week at South Seattle Community College. With a master’s degree clutched in her hot little hand, and her ideals and enthusiasm high, Erin had applied to and been accepted by the King County Community Action Program as an employment counselor, working mainly with displaced women. Ninety percent of those she worked with were on public assistance.
Her dream was to give hope and
Erin knew better than to take the credit or the blame for the transformation she saw in these women’s lives. She was just part of the Ways and Means Committee.
Her father enjoyed teasing her, claiming his eldest daughter was destined to become the next Florence Nightingale and Mother Teresa all rolled into one tenacious, determined, confident female.
Casey MacNamera was only partially right. Erin certainly didn’t see herself as any crusader, fighting against the injustices of life.
Nor was Erin fooling herself about finances. She didn’t intend to become wealthy, at least not monetarily. Nobody went into social work for the money. The hours were long and the rewards sporadic, but when she saw people’s lives turned around for good she couldn’t help being uplifted.
Helping others through a time of painful transition was what Erin had been born to do. It had been her dream from early in her college career and had followed her through graduate school and her first job.
“Erin,” Aimee said, her voice dipping to a whisper, “there’s a man at the bar staring at us.”
Erin pretended not to have noticed. “Oh?”
Aimee stirred the swizzle stick in her strawberry daiquiri, then licked the end as she stared across the room, her eyes studying the good-looking man with the imported ale. Her smile was slow and deliberate, but it didn’t last long. She sighed and said, “It’s you who interests him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m married.”
“He doesn’t know that,” Erin argued.
“Sure he does.” Aimee uncrossed her long legs and leaned across the minuscule table. “Married women give off vibes, and single men pick them up like sonar. I tried to send him a signal, but it didn’t work. He knew immediately. You, on the other hand, are giving off single vibes, and he’s zeroing in on that like a bee does pollen.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong.”
“Maybe,” Aimee agreed in a thin whisper, “but I doubt it.” She took one last sip of her drink and stood hurriedly. “I’m leaving now, and we’ll test my theory and see what happens. My guess is that the minute I’m out of here he’s going to make a beeline for you.” She paused, smiled at her own wit, then added, “The pun was an accident, clever but unintentional.”
“Aimee, I thought you wanted to talk....” Erin, however, wasn’t quick enough to convince her friend to stay. Before she’d finished, Aimee had reached for her purse. “We’ll talk some other time.” With a natural flair, she draped the strap of her imitation-snakeskin handbag over her shoulder and winked suggestively. “Good luck.”
“Ah...” Erin was at a loss as to what to do. She was twenty-seven, but for the majority of her adult life she’d avoided romantic relationships. Not by design. It had just worked out that way.
She met men frequently, but she dated only occasionally. Not once had she met a man in a bar. Cocktail lounges weren’t her scene. In her entire life she’d probably been inside one only a couple of times.
Her social life had been sadly neglected from the time she was in junior high and fell in love for the first time. Howie Riverside had asked her to the Valentine’s Day dance, and her tender young heart had been all aflutter.
Then it had happened. The way it always had. Her father, a career navy man, had been transferred, and they’d moved three days before the dance.
Somehow Erin had never quite regained her stride with the opposite sex. Of course, three moves in the next four years—unusual even for the navy—hadn’t been exactly conducive to a thriving relationship. They’d been shuffled from Alaska to Guam to Pensacola and back again.
College could have, and probably should have, been the opportunity to make up for lost time, but by then Erin had felt like a social pygmy when it came to dealing with men. She hadn’t known how to meet them, how to flirt with them or how to make small talk. Nor had she acquired a number of the other necessary graces.
“Hello.”
She hadn’t even had time to collect her thoughts, let alone her purse. Mr. Imported Beer was standing next to her table, smiling down on her like some mythological Greek god. He certainly resembled one. He was tall, naturally. Weren’t they all? Easily six-four, she guessed, and muscular. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, his brown eyes warm and friendly. He was so handsome, he might well have posed for one of those hunk calendars that were currently the rage with all the women in the office.
“Hi,” she managed, hoping she sounded a whole lot less flustered than she was feeling. Erin knew herself well, and she couldn’t imagine what it was about her that had attracted this gorgeous man.
Few would have described Erin as a beautiful sophisticate. Her features were distinctively Irish, comely and appealing, but she wasn’t anywhere close to being strikingly beautiful. Naturally long curly chestnut-red hair, straight white teeth and a smidgen of freckles across the bridge of her Gaelic nose were her most distinctive features. She was reasonably attractive, but no more so than any of the other women who populated the cocktail lounge.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
“Ah...sure.” She reached for her glass of Chablis and held on to it with one hand. “And you are...”
“Brandon Davis.” He claimed the chair recently vacated by Aimee. “Most folks call me Brand.”
“Erin MacNamera,” she supplied, and noticed several envious stares coming her way from the women in the crowd. Even if nothing came from this exchange, Erin couldn’t help being flattered by his attention. “Most folks call me Erin.”
He smiled.
“Is it true? Was I really giving off vibes?” she asked, surprising herself. Obviously it was the wine talking. Generally she wasn’t even close to being this direct with a man she didn’t know.
Brand didn’t answer her right away, which wasn’t any wonder. She’d probably caught him off guard, which was only fair, since he was throwing her completely off balance.
“My friend was saying men in bars pick up vibes like a radar detector,” she explained, “and I was wondering what messages I was signaling.”
“None.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t help being disappointed. For a moment there, she’d thought she’d stumbled upon some latent talent she hadn’t known she possessed. Apparently that wasn’t the case.
“Then why were you staring at me?” He’d probably ruin everything by informing her she had a run in her nylons, or her skirt was unzipped, or something else thoroughly embarrassing.
“Because you’re Irish and it’s St. Patrick’s Day.”
So much for padding her ego. Naturally. It was the in thing to be seen with an Irish girl on a day that traditionally celebrated her ancestors.
“You’re not wearing green,” he added.
“I’m not?” Erin’s gaze dropped to her blue striped business suit. She hadn’t given a thought to it being St. Patrick’s Day when she’d dressed that morning. “I’m not,” she agreed, surprised she’d forgotten something so basic to her heritage.
Brand laughed lightly, and the sound of it was so refreshing, Erin couldn’t keep from smiling herself. She didn’t know a whole lot about this sort of thing, but her best guess suggested Brand Davis wasn’t the type of man who lounged around bars picking up women. First of all, he didn’t need to. With his good looks and innate charm, women would naturally flock to him.
She decided to test her suspicion. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before.” That wasn’t too surprising. Since this was her first time at the Blue Lagoon, the chances of their having crossed each other’s paths at the bar were pretty slender.
“It’s my first time.”
“I see.”
“What about you?”
It took Erin a second to realize he was asking her how often she frequented the cocktail lounge. “Every now and again,” she answered, striving to sound urbane, or at least a tad more sophisticated than she’d been at age fourteen.
The waitress stepped up to the table, and before Erin could answer one way or the other Brand ordered two more of the same. Generally, one glass of wine was Erin’s limit, but she was willing to break a few rules. It wasn’t often she ran into a Greek god.
