SEAL's RESOLVE - Rebecca Deel Page 0,25
studied the designs, figured out what I liked and didn’t like, then tried to come up with designs of my own. My first attempts were so embarrassing. I made the dresses for myself and three of my friends. My dresses were horrendous. I was all about the design, not the body wearing the dress. The women in the fabric shop didn’t know what to make of me buying yards and yards of fabric meant for wedding dresses or bridesmaids’ dresses. Don’t even ask how much money I spent on the fabric, lace, accents, and notions. I’d be embarrassed to admit the truth.”
She sighed. “It was a glorious time of learning. By the end of my first year, I was doing a better job of matching body type with dress style. I also began designing my own clothes during that year. By the second year, my friends were asking me to make clothes for them. When I graduated from high school, I already knew I wanted to own a bridal shop. I never wavered from that goal.”
“Your father must be proud of you,” Rio said.
“He is although he’s baffled about why I chose to specialize in wedding dresses when I could have designed all kinds of clothes. That’s where my heart is, though.”
“Do you still design your own clothes?”
“I don’t have much time to do that these days. Kristi’s Bridal is growing so fast I haven’t had time for a vacation in four years.”
Rafe frowned. “You need a break once in a while.”
Jackson snorted. “Pot calling the kettle black, buddy.”
“Zip it,” he snapped.
“Just saying.”
So what if Rafe hadn’t taken a break since leaving the military? He’d been searching for Callie’s killers. The two-week break from Fortress was long overdue. If he hadn’t requested time off, Brent would have insisted he take a vacation soon. Capturing Callie’s killers had gutted him all over again. Perhaps he’d heal after he ensured Kristi was safe.
A moment later, Rio said, “The tracker’s out. Give us a minute, then you can sit up.”
Rafe squeezed Kristi’s hand again. “Doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” She sounded breathless.
“Doesn’t sound like it. What’s wrong?”
“Lying on my stomach is painful with bruised ribs.”
“All set,” Jackson said. “Rafe, you can open your eyes now.”
He saw Kristi struggling to get up. “Wait.” Rafe released her hand. “Roll toward me. I’ll scoop you up and set you on your feet. Should be easier on your ribs.”
After Kristi rolled into Rafe’s arms, he eased her to the floor. “Better?”
“Much. Thanks.”
“If the incision bothers you, let me know,” Jackson said.
“Thanks, Jackson. You, too, Rio.”
“No problem, sugar,” Rio said. “What’s next on your agenda?”
Kristi looked at Rafe.
“A session with Marcus if I can arrange it,” he said.
“Use one of the interrogation rooms. Interrogation instruction isn’t until tomorrow.”
Perfect. “Would you like a tour of PSI?” he asked Kristi.
She brightened. “I’d love one. This is where you trained, right?”
He smiled. “One of the places.” Without second-guessing himself, Rafe reclaimed her hand. “Come on.”
When they walked from the infirmary, Cal’s lips curved. Rafe ignored him. He wanted Kristi to be comfortable with him and trust him. This wasn’t about how good her hand felt in his.
As they headed toward the back door, he slid his phone from his pocket and called Marcus Lang. The pastor answered on the second ring.
“Marcus Lang.”
“It’s Rafe Torres.”
“Good to hear from you, Rafe. How are you?”
“Okay for now.”
A slight pause. “Need to talk?”
“Yes, but I can wait. I have a friend who can’t.”
“Talk to me.”
He summarized what had happened. “Can you speak to my friend today?”
“I’ll rearrange my schedule. Where and when?”
“PSI in an hour?”
“That works. See you soon.” Marcus ended the call.
Rafe slid his phone into a pocket and opened the door for Kristi.
“Who is Marcus Lang?”
“One of our counselors. He’s a good man and a great friend. You’ll like him.”
“Do I have to talk to him?”
“You’ve been through a trauma that will reawaken memories of your first kidnapping.”
She sighed. “I want to forget all of it.”
“Talking to Marcus will help you process what happened and lessen the nightmares.”
“How do you know I have nightmares?”
“You forget what I do for a living. I have nightmares of my own.”
“And talking to Marcus will really help?” She sounded skeptical.
He shrugged. “Helps me. I’ll be talking to him soon for myself.”
Kristi tugged on his hand to get him to stop walking. “Did my rescue resurrect bad memories?”
Rafe shook his head. “The mission before your rescue was rough.” In more ways than one. “I’ll need to purge some of that.”
“Want