Holiday at Magnolia Bay (Southern Born Christmas Book 1) by Tracy Solheim Read Free Book Online

peeled off a pair of latex gloves then sealed them up in a plastic bag. She’d carefully collected samples from the turtle’s muscles and skin as well as the flipper bone. Because the turtle had only been dead a few hours, she said, it was necessary to take samples from its eyes, lungs, kidneys and other organs.
    “We don’t always get to a stranded turtle before other scavengers do,” she explained. “So these samples are helpful to the overall research that’s being done. They’ll be analyzed here locally, before I send them off to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service who are responsible for compiling the data nationally.” She then pulled out a tape measure and used it to determine the turtle’s size before carefully checking its shell. “If this guy has been in a research lab or a rehab center like ours, he’ll have a tag on him, but I don’t see anything.”
    Jenna was efficient in her work, keeping up a running dialog as though she were a professor and Drew a student. He found himself not only fascinated by her lecture, but impressed with her composure; she wasn’t the least bit squeamish or emotional. She’d make one hell of a Navy SEAL , he thought.
    A strand of hair had escaped her ponytail and she pushed it off her face. “Okay, that’s everything, I guess.” She was solemn for a moment, the first trickle of emotion she’d shown all night evidenced by her rough intake of breath. Then she pulled a small canister of spray paint out of her backpack. Looking over at Drew as though she once again just realized he was with her, she extended the paint can. “Would you like to do the honors since you discovered him?”
    Drew’s chest squeezed up. “We’re just gonna leave him here?”
    He wasn’t sure why the thought unnerved him so much, but the roar of the ocean was suddenly ten decibels louder in his ears. Never leave a man down , the DI’s had screamed at them throughout months of BUD training. It was the Navy SEAL’s code. Except he had left a man behind. He’d left Atkins behind, his body resting in the sand just like this stinking turtle.
    Suddenly Drew was on his ass on the beach, struggling to get air into his lungs as the memories of that night played in real time behind his eyes. Six years in special forces, and he’d never left a team member to the enemy. Sure, he’d lost guys from his unit before, but he hadn’t deserted their lifeless bodies in an Afghan desert.
    “Commander, get in this chopper now! That’s an order!” The Army jockey piloting the helicopter shouted over the sound of the whirling blades punctuated by the scream of mortar shells coming from the foothills. “I need to take this bird up before we all end up as sand castles!”
    He recalled his boots feeling as though they were filled with cement as he scrambled to the chopper, his mind warring with the anguish of leaving a fallen comrade or saving his own sorry ass. Drew’s sorry ass had won the round, but his mind wouldn’t let him forget. And he feared it never would.
    “Hey,” Jenna’s soft voice permeated the fog of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. It’s only a damn turtle , he told himself, trying to regain his composure and not embarrass himself further. Her hand was on his back, gently rubbing between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
    Except he wasn’t, and he was scared shitless he’d never be okay again. She kept rubbing, and he felt like a total pervert as his heart slowed down and the rest of his body revved up. His buddies were right; sex was definitely the answer to his problems. All he needed to do was convince a certain goddess of the turtles to play along. Once he was right in the head again—both of them—his nightmares would be over, and he could get back to duty and the life he was best suited for.
    He glanced over at Jenna. Concern clouded her eyes, but her hand never ceased its confident stroking.
    “What can I do to help you?” she asked, her lips