Navy SEAL Series Boxed Set Read online

  The Navy SEAL Romance Series

  Odette Stone

  The Navy SEAL Series, Box Set

  Copyright © 2019 by Odette Stone

  www.odettestone.com

  ISBN: 978-1-9990538-1-9

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  My Fiancé’s Brother: Book one

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  My Fiancé’s Brother: Book two

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  (Journal of Harry Jarvais)

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  (Journal of Harry Jarvais)

  (Letter to Jackson from Harry)

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  (Ten weeks later)

  Epilogue

  My Fake Fiancé: Book three

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Book 1: Puck Me Secretly

  Also by Odette

  My Fiancé’s Brother: Book one

  Chapter 1

  I stared at myself in the grimy glass door of the subway train, trying to avoid the crush of jostling people that pressed against my back. I looked less like a bride-to-be, and more like a college waif with my red hair pulled into a ponytail and my blue eyes devoid of make-up. I had gotten caught up in my book and when I realized how late it was, I had to run just to get out the door, let alone bother with makeup.

  The train peeled into my station before jerking hard to a stop, throwing the person behind me against my back. The crowd spilled around me into the underground station once the doors were open. I staggered onto the street above after running up two flights of stairs and passed panhandlers, food trucks that sizzled with the smell of hot grease and overflowing garbage cans. I let out a breath of relief when I reached my destination, the Paper Pelican.

  The store was quiet with only the clerk standing at the counter. I glanced at my watch. I was a bit early, and Matt generally was a bit late. I spend an inordinate amount of time browsing through the aisle, trying to look like an avid shopper.

  Where was Matt? I checked my phone. No messages. I debated on what to do. He hated it when I called him out for being late, but the store was only open for another 30 minutes. I had deliberately picked this store for our wedding invitations, because it was two blocks away from his office. I decided, with a bit of trepidation, to send him a text.

  Me: I’m just at the Paper Pelican. Are you on your way?

  Matt: Got busy. Sorry. You’re on your own.

  A headache pinched at the base of my neck. This was the second time that Matt had stood me up at the Paper Pelican. He didn’t seem to realize that I felt paralyzed with indecision about everything that involved our wedding. I needed guidance and input from him. I couldn’t seem to organize a single detail, and our wedding loomed a mere twelve weeks away. Maybe I could bring him some invitation samples to dinner.

  Me: Where do you want to meet for dinner?

  Another long pause before he responded.

  Matt: Stuck in a meeting. Will be home late.

  He always did this. Why didn’t he care about our wedding? We had so many things to cover, and he refused to help. Didn’t he realize that I needed his help
? Looking towards the counter, I felt sick.

  Why hadn’t I hired a wedding planner? Oh right, because Matt had convinced me that we’d have a lot of fun planning this wedding together. I took a deep breath. I could do this. I just needed to be decisive. I squared my shoulders and walked up to the front counter. The clerk looked annoyed. We both knew she wanted to start closing the store.

  “I’d like to order some wedding invitations.”

  She grabbed an order sheet and then stood poised with a pen. “Do you have a wedding palette color?”

  “Uh. Not yet.”

  “Do you know how many invitations you need?”

  I took a deep breath. Matt still hadn’t given me his guest list. “Perhaps between 50 and 200?”

  “Do you prefer a reply card and envelope or a reply postcard?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Do you know what kind of printing you like?”

  A wave of heat washed over my body. “What are my options?”

  “Letterpress, engraving, embossing, thermography, and flat printing.”

  These choices were impossible. This was precisely why I needed Matt here. What did he like? What did he want?

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you know what kind of paper you want?”

  My hands curled so tight that my nails dug into my palms. “Not yet.”

  “Do you have any idea what you want your invitations to look like?”

  This was a mistake. “I should go.”

  She eyed the clock. “Okay. Would you like any samples?”

  “I’ll come back.”

  “Have a good night.”

  I stood outside the store and scrubbed my face. Three months until the wedding. I had no idea how we would get everything planned in time. Matt was working late, but he needed to eat, right? I could go to his office, wait until his meeting was finished and then we could order take out. He worked long hours as a lawyer. He could afford to spend half an hour with me. With renewed determination, I walked towards his office building. I stood across the street and waited for the light to change. I saw him walk with purpose down the steps.

  I raised my hand and waved. “Matt!”

  The roar of the street drowned out my voice.

  He walked towards a cab. I watched as a woman got out of the cab. I couldn’t see her face, but she had long beautiful brown hair. He smiled and kissed her on the cheek before they both climbed back into the cab.

  I stood in complete shock. The light turned green, and people streamed around me. Had that really been Matt? Who was the woman?

  I swallowed hard and crossed the street, feeling my heart beat in my chest. She was probably just a client. Matt was working a business dinner. My granny used to warn me not to borrow trouble with my imagination. She used to tell me that I needed to take life as it was and stop worrying about things I had no control over.

  It took me 15 minutes before I managed to find a cab.

  “Where to lady?”

  I gave him my address and sank back into the worn seat and stared unseeing out the dirty window. How likely was it that he would kiss a female client on the cheek? If I confronted Matt about this, he would tell me that I was being insecure. I sighed.

  “That’s quite the sigh,” the driver said, “Tough day?”

  Our eyes met in the review mirror.

  “I just saw my fiancé get into a cab with another woman.”

  He gave me another glance. “What spooked you?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “What’s making you nervous?”

  I toed a dirty Kleenex on the floor with my sneaker. “He kissed her on the cheek. He stood me up and said he was busy working and then I saw him smiling at her and he kissed her on the cheek.”

  “What kind of kiss?”

  I blinked. “Uh.”

  “Was it a sexy kiss or more that French thing on both cheeks? Maybe he was trying to be sophisticated.”

  My mind replayed what I saw. Matt had put his hand on her upper arm. He had smiled at her face. And when he leaned in and kissed her, he had lingered. It had felt intimate.

  “He lingered.”

  The cab driver shook his head. “You know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it all. Trust your gut. If you saw something you didn’t like, it’s probably ten times worse than you’re imagining.”

  “Matt would never cheat on me.”

  “That’s what they all say.” He eyeballed me in the mirror. “You look too young to get married. Are you even out of high school?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, I’m 24.”

  “Well, you look too young to be getting married. You should be out there, having fun,” he advised. “Trust me. After you get married, the kids come. And after they arrive, your whole world changes.”

  “I guess.” Not wanting to admit that I couldn’t wait to have a baby. All my friends had important careers. I felt slightly ashamed that my only goal was to get married and start a family.

  The cab driver spoke to me. I looked up and realized that he had pulled up in front of my loft. I dug through my bag to find some cash.

  “You sure this is the right place?” he peered through the windshield around the area. It was the most up and coming neighborhood. Still mostly industrial, there were a handful of condos and lofts in the area.

  “Yeah, this is my building.”

  Matt had convinced me to buy a loft here. He had promised me that he’d help me with the renovations. He had been too busy, and the vast majority had fallen on my shoulders. I had been hopeless dealing with the decisions and the contractors, and without telling Matt, I had hired a decorator to take over the project and see it to completion. To this day, Matt still believed that I had managed to convert the old building into the loft.

  “You should be careful out here. They haven’t caught the throat slayer yet.”

  I shuddered. “Who is the throat slayer?”

  “Some serial killer creep who has been killing women. They say he chokes them to death.”

  My heart tripped. “I’m sure he isn’t out here.”

  The cabbie looked over his shoulder at me. “Just be careful, kid.”

  Chapter 2

  I jerked awake. My entire body felt tense with fear, but I had no idea why. I lifted my head, my ears straining. Something had woken me. Another noise from downstairs made my heart race. Where was my phone? With shaking limbs, I stood at my closed door and listened. Someone was downstairs and it wasn’t Matt. I had gotten up earlier in an attempt to talk to him about the wedding invitations, but he’d already been half out the door. I had returned to bed and now I was a sitting duck in my bedroom while some intruder rooted around downstairs.

  My need to hide overwhelmed me. Instead, I looked around for a weapon. My golf clubs. I gingerly pulled out my seven iron. In bare feet, I eased my bedroom door open. I peered over the glass balcony that overlooked the central living area of the loft. I couldn’t see anyone. Had I imagined those noises? I could see my cell phone charging on the counter. Never again. I would never leave my cell phone downstairs again.

  I slowly made my way towards the stairs, keeping my back pressed up against the wall. Everything was silent below. I crept down the open curved stairs. Nothing. My imagination played tricks on me. I let out a deep breath. I needed to get a grip. My therapist used to tell me that my fear was simply my false expectations appearing real. A catchy acronym to remind me that my fear of an intruder was irrational.

  Heart pounded in my throat, I walked towards the large industrial sliding door to ensure that Matt had set the alarm. My foot connected with something solid and I barely caught my balance as I tripped over it.

  Recovering, I turned around to stare at the huge black canvas duffle bag. The toilet flushed behind me from the half bath. I froze and my mind raced. I needed to hide.

  I don’t remember moving. Suddenly, I was flattened against the wall in the front walk-in closet. My breath sounded harsh. My heart raced to the point that I feared
I would pass out. My vision blurred with tears.