Page 82 of SEAL's Promise
“I won’t need help.” A baby’s cry sounded in the background. “I need to go. Later, my friend.” Zane ended the call.
Cal, on watch until 6:00, carried his refilled mug to the French doors. The idiots hassling Bridget Young were in serious trouble. Zane was very protective of his younger protege, and ticking off the man who saved the hides of operatives was not a smart move. If Z didn’t get the job done, Bridget’s husband, Trace, would deal with them when he returned to the US, provided Maddox didn’t haul them in himself. He also had a soft spot for his new researcher.
An hour later, a light tap sounded on the suite door. Frowning, Cal palmed his weapon and checked the peephole. He opened the door to admit Jon. “Why are you awake?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to let you have some beauty sleep.” He clapped Cal on the shoulder. “Go. I’ve got the watch.”
He stretched out on the couch as Jon took his place at the French doors and was asleep in seconds. At 7:00, he woke to a knock on the suite door. “Room service,” a male voice called.
Cal sat up, weapon in hand, as Jon looked through the peephole. His teammate unlocked the door and motioned for the bellhops to roll their carts into the suite. After tipping them, Jon sent the men on their way.
“That’s quite a feast.” Cal perused the dishes, glad to see yogurt, cut fruit, and bagels among the offerings. “Good choices.”
“Rafe and Eli will be here soon.”
Time to wake Rachelle. Even though he wanted her to sleep as much as possible, she also needed a few minutes to eat before Meyer and his friends arrived to question her.
Cal knocked on her door. “Rachelle?”
The door swung open. The woman he’d dreamed about while he slept stood in the doorway, fully dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, tennis shoes clutched in one hand. “Do you mind helping me with my shoes? I can’t bend over to tie the laces.”
“No problem.” He led her to the couch and knelt in front of her. “Breakfast just arrived.”
She didn’t respond.
Hmm. Cal finished tying her shoe laces. “You okay?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Jackson walked into the living room in time to hear Rachelle’s comment. “Nausea still plaguing you?”
“My stomach’s in a knot. I’ll eat later.”
The medic squeezed her shoulder and sent Cal a pointed glance.
He suspected the problem was the coming interview. After what they pulled the previous day, he didn’t blame her for being reluctant. But delaying the inevitable would place the president in an awkward position.
An idea to distract Rachelle formed in his mind. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm as his teammate joined Jon at the breakfast cart. “I need to shower and change. Shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”
She looked skeptical.
He grinned. “Hey, the military drummed speed into our heads. When I finish, would you like to go on a breakfast date?”
Rachelle brightened. “I’d love to.” Then, her expression dimmed. “We shouldn’t, though. Meyer will be here soon.”
“He and his friends will wait. You’re the guest of honor. They can’t start the party without you.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “I’ll be back soon.” Cal looked at Jon, who gave a slight nod. Five minutes later, he returned to the living room, showered, shaved, and dressed in clean clothes.
Rachelle smiled. “I’m impressed. Five minutes to the second.”
He’d finished his shower and dressed in three minutes, then used the other two to arrange a treat for Rachelle. “Ready?”
She nodded. “Where are we going?”
“Some things are better experienced. Jon, we’ll be back in time to meet the threesome from the State Department.”
“Need backup?”
He shook his head. “We aren’t leaving the hotel. If something comes up, text me.” Cal opened the suite door, checked the hallway, then escorted Rachelle to the elevator. Although he preferred the stairs, his lady wasn’t up to it today. On the ground floor, Cal kept his hand at her lower back as he guided her toward the solarium.