Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor

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Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor Page 8

by Cynthia D'Alba


  He chuckled a low-in-the-gut sound that shot arousal from her breasts to the area between her thighs. He put a couple of fingers under her chin and kissed her. Her desire shot from ember to roaring fire in seconds.

  If I climb him like a tree in my parents’ living room, think they’ll notice?

  Someone coughed. They broke apart, looked deeply into each other’s eyes, and turn toward the intruder.

  “Sorry for the interruption,” her mother said, but she didn’t sound sorry. “Is there a problem?”

  “I’ve been called in. I have to go,” Ben said. “Dinner was wonderful, Patricia. I hope I can repay the favor at some point.”

  Her mother smiled broadly. “Why, thank you, Benjamin. That would be lovely.”

  He looked at Holly. “I need to say bye to your family and then I really have to go.”

  “I understand,” she said honestly. This was his job and he had to go. Why couldn’t she have picked an accountant or banker to make this deal with? Those jobs were never dangerous.

  He bid his farewells to her family, never removing his arm from around her shoulders.

  “Walk me out?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  Her family had left the driveway open, and Ben had parked there. When they got to his truck, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him for a kiss. She leaned against him, her arms around his neck. His lips were firm. With his mouth, he controlled the kiss, demanding that she surrender to him. She did so willingly, matching the intensity of his kisses with her own. When he pulled back, her breaths were heavy and harsh.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “I have to go.”

  “I know.”

  He kissed again. “I’ve really got to go.”

  “I know.”

  Resting his forehead against hers, he said, “I’ll call when I can.”

  She smiled, gave him a quick kiss and stepped back. “Good.” She laughed softly. “Well, we certainly gave my parents’ neighbors something to talk about.”

  “Oh yeah?” He grinned and his eyes had a mischievous sparkle.

  “Oh yeah. Mrs. Mercer across the street. She’s probably peeking through the curtains as we speak.”

  “I wish I had more time to give her grapevine some juicier stuff, but I really have to go.”

  She pushed him backwards and stepped out of his reach. “Better?”

  “No,” he grumbled, “but yes. I’ll call when I can.”

  He got in his truck, backed up and drove away.

  Holly waved to Mrs. Mercer, who jerked her curtains closed. With a laugh, she headed back to the dinner table.

  Chapter Five

  Benjamin rolled through the base gates forty-five minutes after the call. He suspected their mission was to go after the head of a major drug cartel in South America as the team had been practicing water landings in a hostile environment.

  As he entered the building, his CO called him over.

  “Sir,” Benjamin said.

  “We have a couple of minutes before your team rolls in, Master Chief. I’d like to continue our conversation from last month.”

  Benjamin followed his CO into his office and shut the door. The conversation last month had been front and center in Benjamin’s mind, but only during the sixteen to eighteen hours a day he was awake.

  Last month, his CO had approached him about his future after teams. Benjamin was fully aware that he was getting a little long-in-the-tooth to remain active on teams. His guys—the cream-of-the-crop, in his opinion—were in top shape, physically and mentally. And while Benjamin was still fit and his mind sharp—again, in his opinion—he feared the day was quickly approaching when his speed would no longer match that of his team and he would pull them down, putting lives at risk. He didn’t want that day to come.

  “Have seat,” his lieutenant said, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk. “Have you given our conversation any thought?”

  Benjamin sat and nodded. “Yes, sir. I have. I’ve thought about little else.”

  “What have you decided?”

  Benjamin leaned forward. “Sir, you must realize that being a part of teams is my life. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

  “And you’ve been a damned excellent SEAL, Master Chief.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I would think you would want to leave on your own terms. Leave while you are still at the top of your game.”

  “I agree, sir.”

  “With your experience and expertise, you would be a valuable addition to Naval Warfare Command. You’d still have your hand in the action, just not on the missions with the guys.”

  Benjamin nodded his agreement. “I should make you aware that I was approached by Admiral Houser about an opening in SEAL training.”

  “You’d be good there, too, but not in the action. You’re an action guy. Always have been.”

  “I’d like the next couple of months to consider my options.”

  “How far are you from your twenty?”

  “A little over two-and-a-half years.”

  “Okay, Master Chief.” He checked his watch. “Let’s get to mission planning and we can talk more when you get back.”

  Benjamin stood and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  The team was on base and ready within an hour after his call. Dedication to duty was foremost with his team.

  “Gentlemen,” his commanding officer said, “today’s mission is tricky and problematic, which is why you get it.”

  The guys chuckled and replied with “We’re so lucky,” and “Nobody better,” type of comments.

  “Senator Paulie of Wisconsin is head of the Senate Intelligence Committee. His daughter is missing and thought to be in the company of Franko Fantella, a well-known drug lord. The intel suggests he’s on a buying run with the senator’s daughter.”

  “Oh, goodie. A runaway mission,” Eric Anderson, aka Viking, muttered.

  “Can it,” Benjamin ordered. “Our mission is our mission.”

  “Yes, Chief,” came the replies.

  “Even though the senator, of course, wants his daughter back, the issue is that she stole his laptop computer, which is full of sensitive information. The intel suggests that Fantella is using her to get his hands on that laptop, which he can market to the highest bidder. Your priority is retrieving this laptop. Bringing home his daughter is secondary, but command would prefer you do both. It’d go a long way with legislative relations.”

  “Where are we headed?” Cowboy asked.

  “Intel has them near the Golden Triangle.”

  “Do we know which country? Thailand, Laos or Myanmar?” Benjamin asked.

  “Our last report had Ms. Paulie and Mr. Fantella on a yacht outside territorial waters. Let’s hope it stays that way. Let’s load up, guys.”

  On the almost-fifteen-hour flight from California to the U.S. base in the Philippines, the team reviewed and prepared for their tactical approach. There happened to be an aircraft carrier in the region, and the team ended up cooling their heels for twenty-four hours after they arrived waiting for ideal weather. In this case, ideal weather came in the form of a wet monsoon that covered their assault.

  The team boarded the yacht under the cover of darkness and a raging storm, taking the boat crew and guests by complete surprise. The daughter and laptop were retrieved with minor bloodshed.

  Fantella and his impressive ship were handed over to DEA and the U.S. The team hauled an unhappy senator’s daughter and the intel-loaded laptop back to the carrier. While the heavy rain and storms had been perfect for the mission, they now delayed the team’s helicopter from taking off to return to the base. They were again required to sit tight for a few days to allow the weather to improve.

  Finally, they got the all clear to leave on Tuesday night. From the Naval carrier, the team, along with the Ms. Paulie and the laptop, flew from the ship to a U.S. base in the Philippines, and from there back to their home base at Camp Pendleton

  Back
on base, an exhausted team filed into the conference room for the debrief.

  “Good, no, great job, team,” their CO said.

  “Thank you, sir,” Benjamin replied. “There’s no team better than Bravo team.”

  The guys replied, “Bravo.”

  Their CO nodded. “As missions go, this wasn’t a long one, but I have to admit, our returning guest made every mile seem like ten.”

  Benjamin chuckled. “Yeah, she wasn’t happy about being hauled home. Kept shouting about her rights and that her daddy would have us all up on kidnapping charges.”

  “Not on a radar at all,” the CO replied. “Now, let’s run through the op, step by step and see where we could have improved.”

  Two hours and eight showers later, the team filed out of the building, into their vehicles, and headed for McP’s Irish Pub, the infamous SEAL hangout.

  On the drive over, Benjamin left Holly a text, letting her know he was back and would call later tonight…not that he felt he had to check in with her. They didn’t have that sort of relationship. Still, it’d been a while since he’d felt the need to let anyone know when he landed back in the U.S.

  As the team charged past the “Welcome. Wait here to be seated” sign, through the bar and out onto the patio, Benjamin stopped to talk with Ray, the longtime bartender.

  “Send eight shots of Wild Turkey and two pitchers of whatever beer you have on tap to our table.”

  “Got it, Master Chief. Welcome back from wherever you went, and congrats on a successful mission.” Having worked at McP’s so long, Ray was familiar with the various SEAL Team traditions.

  The order Benjamin placed was Bravo Team’s ritual once they arrived home in Coronado. Two shots of whiskey per man for a successful mission and one shot if not. The dreaded three shots—which, thank the lord, he’d never ordered—was for a team member lost on active duty.

  “Thanks, Ray. We’re on the patio.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I know. I figure the ladies in here will be out there shortly.

  “Aw, Ray. You know my team would never use McP’s to pick up women.”

  Ray laughed. “Yeah, and I’m doing BUD/s training next week.”

  Benjamin laughed as he made his way outside, which for this noisy crew was an ideal location.

  The guys had pulled two tables together. They were loud and rowdy, and damned if he didn’t love each one of them like a brother. How could he ever leave teams? The guys were the family he’d never had, and he didn’t expect to find that again outside of the Navy.

  “Over here, C-Note,” Cowboy yelled. “Saving you a seat. You know, the seat where the tab lands.”

  The guys laughed and Benjamin shook his head as he wound through the tables to the corner.

  Jacob Fowler, Bravo Two and one of Benjamin’s best friends frowned at him. “You’re empty-handed, boss. Bar out of beer?”

  “Ray said he needs to check some ID’s. He’s not sure you guys are old enough to drink.”

  That brough another round of laughter.

  “Hell, we’re all old enough,” Viking protested. Eric was twenty-six and the youngest of the team. With his blond hair and babyface, he could pass for twenty.

  “Don’t you worry none,” Nolan Bell assured him. “I’m sure Ray’s got some white milk back there for you.”

  Eric slugged Nolan which made the rest of the guys laughed.

  “Here we go, boys,” a sweet, female voice said.

  “None too soon,” Benjamin said. “The kids were getting punchy.”

  Two shots and a beer mug were placed in front of each man. The waitress set two icy-cold pitchers of golden brew on the table.

  “Salute, gentlemen,” she said and walked away.

  Benjamin picked up one shot glass of whiskey and held it high. The men did the same.

  “The first shot is always for the ones who went before us, died for us, and brought us to where we are today. Salute.”

  The men tapped the eight shot glasses on the table. Then they downed their shots and slammed the empty glasses back on the table upside down. No one said anything as their custom required no talking until completed.

  Benjamin held up the second full shot glass. “And this round is for Bravo Team. The baddest, meanest, sons of bitches around.”

  As the men tapped the full shoot glasses on the table before drinking, they all yelled, “Bravo Team. The baddest, meanest, sons of bitches around,” and then drank their shots.

  As soon as the empty shot glasses hit the table, the pitchers of beer were grabbed and glasses filled. Benjamin leaned back in his chair and watched his team. The jabs. The kidding comments. The rolled eyes. The laughter.

  Even as he took in the scene around him, his father’s voice echoed in his head.

  You’re no good. Ain’t nobody ever gonna love you, boy, ’cause you just ain’t loveable. You killed your own mother. Your fault she’s dead. Should’ve never had you. Worst thing I ever did. Your momma was worth a thousand times what you are. Worthless. Trash. A nobody that’ll go nowhere. I wish you’d died at birth. Then I’d still have your momma with me. Hell, taking care of you killed not only your momma but my sister, too. Everybody around you will die. You’re like the walking death master killing anyone who’s stupid enough to love you.

  “Hey, man.” A pair of fingers snapped in Benjamin’s face. “Where’d you go?”

  Benjamin looked at his friend, Jacob and forced a smile. “Just thinking.”

  “Thinking about how great we are, right?”

  Benjamin snorted. “Naw. I was wondering if you remembered to brush your teeth.”

  Jacob laughed. “You’re just jealous because I got a lady to go home to.”

  A vision of Holly flashed in Benjamin’s mind and he smiled. “Listen up, guys. Before you all start heading out, remember we have the Memorial Day picnic at the CO’s house. You will all be there. You will behave. Children are welcome, so Viking, you can bring one of your usual barely legal dates.”

  Viking pointed at Benjamin and laughed.

  Over the next thirty minutes, the men drifted away one-by-one until only he and Viking were left.

  “A couple of hot chicks at your eight,” Viking said. “One of them is giving me all the signals. Her friend is kind of hot, too.”

  Benjamin glanced toward the two women Eric had indicated and turned back. The ladies were certainly over twenty-one, but just barely. In the past he might’ve been interested in seeing what needs the ladies had that he could meet. Hell, there was a time when he would have taken them both home with him. Funny, he didn’t feel the need to prove what he could do.

  Stranger still, he wasn’t attracted to their youthfulness as he’d once been.

  “Frog hogs,” he said.

  “So?”

  Benjamin smiled. “Look, kid. The ladies love SEALs. You’ll just be a mark on the bedpost.”

  Eric tossed back the rest of his beer. “I’ll be sure to offer my knife to the lucky lady to make her notch.”

  Benjamin finished his beer and watch Eric approach the ladies.

  “You guys finished with this table?” the waitress asked. She gestured toward the vacated table.

  “Yup. In fact, I’m headed out. Bring me the tab, and I’ll settle up with you.”

  She shook her head with a smile. “A woman inside paid your tab, so you’re good to go.”

  Benjamin arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? I should thank her. Which table?”

  “Right by the front door. Dark hair. Sitting with a couple of other women.”

  “The red couch?”

  “Yeah. That’s where she is.”

  “Thanks.” He polished off his beer and set the mug on the table. “Both tables are available.”

  She smiled at him and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. I get off in an hour if you want to hang around….”

  “Oh, honey. That sure is tempting, but I’ve already got plans.”

  “Maybe another time.”

>   “Sure.” He pulled a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to her. “Thanks, again.”

  “Thank you.” She tucked the money into her pocket and began clearing the clutter on the tables.

  Benjamin headed inside to thank the mystery woman for picking up the tab. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, so he had his, “Thank you for your kindness,” speech cued up and ready to spill before he headed to his truck and called Holly.

  Inside, the bar was crowded and noisy. The locals had apparently decided to start the long Memorial Day weekend on Thursday evening.

  As he wound around people heading his way toward the entrance, his gaze searched for the red sofa and three women. As he neared, a smile twisted at the corners of his lips.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said. “Another bridesmaid outing?”

  Holly grinned up at him. “Hey, sailor. New in town?”

  Benjamin laughed and scooted next to Holly on the sofa.

  “Hi, Benjamin,” Diana said.

  “Hey, cutie,” said Bethany. “This is all my doing. Since I moved here, I’ve heard about McP’s, but I’d never been. So, ta-da! We’re here.”

  “Where’s Katie?”

  “She and Hillary are at a friend’s house for dinner, and her girlfriend’s parents are dropping the girls at the movies,” Holly explained. “Diana and I thought we’d have dinner before we have to pick them up.”

  “And I invited myself along and picked the place,” Bethany added.

  “How did you know I was here?” he asked.

  “Saw your truck in the parking lot,” Holly said. “Walked past the patio and saw you and heard your team.”

  “You should have come met them.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

  He put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “You are never an intrusion.”

  “Aww,” Bethany said. “That’s sweet.”

  Holly leaned into his side. “Sorry you picked my brother, Beth?”

  Bethany laughed. “Naw. I’ll keep him.”

  “Have you ladies had dinner?” Benjamin asked. “It’s my treat.”

 

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