His To Claim. Brenda Jackson

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His To Claim - Brenda Jackson The Westmoreland Legacy

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href="#u4d45f96a-ba1f-5c45-a93a-f0583414fcdf">Title Page

       Copyright

       Acknowledgements

       One

       Two

       Three

       Four

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Thirteen

       Fourteen

       Fifteen

       Sixteen

       Epilogue

       Note from the Author

       About the Publisher

       One

      Thurston McRoy, called Mac by all who knew him, got out of his rental vehicle and slid the keys into the pocket of his jeans. There was a dark blue sedan parked in his driveway.

      At two in the morning.

      It looked like a brand-new luxury Lexus and had a Georgia license plate. The only people he knew who lived in Georgia were his parents. Was this their vehicle?

      They would often visit Virginia to check on his wife, Teri, and the kids whenever he was away for long periods of time. With his work as a navy SEAL, he often took part in missions where he was out of communication with his family. He appreciated his parents for all they did to make his work easier on his family. However, he was surprised to see their car here, tonight. Over the last year or so, they’d begun staying at a nearby hotel whenever they came to town. Unfortunately, there were no longer any spare rooms at the McRoy house.

      The last time Mac had come home, he’d discovered Teri had given Tia, their oldest daughter of nine, her own room—namely the spare room. According to Teri, Tia was at the age where she now wanted privacy from her three younger sisters, Tatum, Tempest and Tasha. But did she have to take the only spare room in the house? The one that doubled as his man cave whenever he came home?

      He and Teri had always talked about buying a bigger place. Frankly, he had more than enough means to make it happen thanks to the investments he’d made on the advice of his friend and teammate, Bane Westmoreland. However, over the past several years, he’d been gone a lot, sent on several missions, and he was too hands-on to even think of letting her make such a major purchase like that without him. He knew exactly what he wanted in a home and Teri knew what she wanted. And their wants were on the opposite ends of the spectrum. She wanted a two-story home and he wanted ranch style. The fewer stairs he had to climb, the better.

      Tonight, he was returning home from an eight-month-long, highly classified covert operation near Libya. During that time, he hadn’t been able to let anyone, not even Teri, know of his whereabouts. He had left home in the wee hours of the morning after making passionate love to his wife, without being able to tell her where he was going or when he would return.

      As a toddler he recalled sitting on his maternal grandfather’s knee and listening to stories of his military days, specifically as a SEAL. His paternal grandfather had been a military man, as well, an army ranger. Although Mac’s father hadn’t been in the military Mac had decided early in life protecting his country was something he wanted to do. Being a SEAL had always been his dream and he’d worked hard to make that particular dream come true. Now after almost twenty years whenever he thought it was time to retire, a part of him was convinced there was one more mission, one more opportunity to defend the country he loved.

      The last operation had been brutal, but all the members of his team were alive and accounted for. Now he was glad to be back home with his wife and kids, and as much as he loved his parents, he hadn’t counted on having any company. He needed a cold beer and his wife. Not necessarily in that order.

      He figured everyone was in bed, yet an uneasy feeling crept over him as he entered his home. He paused in the foyer. Was that the television he heard coming from the living room? Typically, Teri would be in bed before ten because she got up around six to jump-start her day.

      Tatum was seven and attended a different school than Tia. Tempest was five and attended kindergarten at the same school as Tatum. Tasha, their baby, who was barely three, attended day care. He hadn’t liked the idea of Tasha in day care, but Teri claimed Tasha needed to be around kids her age at least a few days a week to start developing her social skills.

      Mac hadn’t wanted Teri to work outside the home, either, but she’d insisted that she needed to get out of the house for a while during the day. So now she was working part-time at one of the libraries in town.

      Mindful of not waking the kids, while at the same time intent on not scaring his parents, he took out his phone and texted Teri. She practically slept with the phone beside her. When the message didn’t immediately show as delivered, he frowned, wondering what was wrong with her phone. He’d tried calling her earlier, twice in fact, when his plane had landed in DC. He hadn’t gotten an answer either time.

      What was going on?

      He placed his

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