Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor

by Cynthia D'Alba

  He groaned. “Damn. I offered you dinner, didn’t I?”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah, and I would say I’m not hungry and it’s okay, except you’ve already pointed out that I’m a terrible liar, and there’s no way you didn’t hear my stomach screaming.”

  “Come on. We’ll raid my kitchen.” He stood and pulled her to her feed. “And don’t bother getting dressed. You’ll just have to take it all off again.”

  He swaggered from the room and she snorted.

  “A little sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she called behind him.

  “I’m sure we’re not done,” he called back.

  She wrapped a sheet around her body and followed his voice back up the hall. As she did, she glanced through the open door to the adjacent bedroom. An office. Nothing interesting in that. However, she passed a steel door with a digital pad that required a code to open it.

  “What’s with the third bedroom?” she asked.

  “Office,” he replied over his shoulder

  “Not that one and you know it. The one with fancy lock.”

  “Ah. That’s my room of toys.”

  She stilled. “Like your red room?”

  He frowned. “Red room?”

  “You know. From that erotic book. The red room was where he kept all his, well, sex stuff.”

  He laughed. “I don’t have a thing to eat here since I’ve been out of the country. Okay if I order a pizza?”

  “Sure.”

  After the order was placed, he took her hand and led her to the steel door. He punched in a long string of digits, and then to her surprise, put his thumb up for scanning. Only then did the door swing open. She gasped in surprise.

  “Holy shit, Batman,” she said.

  “Not the toys you were expecting?”

  Her eyes were wide with shock when she looked at him. “Guns.”

  He nodded. “I play with guns every day.”

  “But…but…what are some of these things?”

  He began telling the name, caliber, and use for each weapon. When he said, “And this is a grappling hook launcher,” she shook her head.

  “Ben. Why?”

  “It’s a habit I picked up over the years. You never know when you’ll need it.”

  “But a grappling hook launcher?”

  He chuckled. “Pizza’s here. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you the story of how that grappling hook saved a groom from a mad woman.”

  * * *

  The next day, Holly sat in a lifeguard stand on Coronado Beach watching surfers take advantage of the waves before the beach closed to surfers on Monday. If she had a dime for every day she’d skipped school to surf, she’d have a nice nest egg right now.

  The memory of all the rides brought a smile to her face. It’d been years since she’d taken her board out of storage. She’d planned on teaching Katie to surf, but after Steve’s death, the years passed and she never did. As much as her daughter loved coming to the beach, she’d always had a healthy respect for the waves and the dangerous undertow. But now, Holly wondered if she’d put that fear into Katie.

  Steve’s death had made Holly hyperaware of how quickly life can be snuffed out. Even though she’d given Katie swim lessons, and her daughter swam like a fish in their pool, had Holly in some way instilled a fear of the ocean?

  Being a summer lifeguard for so long, Holly had witnessed plenty of near drownings and accidents. And yes, she’d warned her daughter about those, but had she gone too far? Maybe it was time to teach her daughter how to surf, or better yet, get someone else to teach her.

  An image of icy-blue eyes formed in her head. She’d seen Ben surf and his moves on the waves rivaled his moves in the bed.

  The smile at the memory of high school antics broaden as the memories from last night presented front and center. No wonder those women from the beach had flirted with him. He was an orgasm artist in the bedroom, and she was damned sure she wanted more of him before they parted after her brother’s wedding.

  Chapter Seven

  Benjamin didn’t want to strip his sheets and wash them, even if that was his routine when he was home. Right now, they smelled like sex and Holly, especially Holly.

  He jerked the sheets off the bed. Damn, he hated that he was such a creature of routine and habit. But that’s what’d saved his life on many deployments…muscle memory and routine. And while this wasn’t the same, he was superstitious enough to not break procedures.

  Last night, Holly had invited him to go with her to her parents’ house for Memorial Day dinner, expect it was on Sunday and not Monday. Her brothers were on duty on Monday, so her folks were having everyone over a day early. He’d agreed, and then had done something he’d never done before. He’d invited her to go with him to his team’s Memorial Day cookout at their CO’s house.

  Every year, their Commanding Officer held a cookout at his house. While he always assured the guys their attendance wasn’t mandatory, of course it was. The team called it a “mandatory good time.”

  Benjamin never brought a date to one of these events. The guys brought girlfriends and wives, but rarely did anyone bring an outsider, i.e., someone not intimately familiar with the team members…Well, except for Eric. The Viking was still working his way through a roster of women. Benjamin would put money on Eric finding himself in deep water one day.

  This year would be different, at least for Benjamin. He hadn’t meant to invite her. He hadn’t given any thought to inviting her, but the words had come from his mouth without his brain being engaged. He probably should be concerned about his team’s reaction to Holly, but after he’d introduced her to Eric at McP’s, he had to assume every one of his guys had heard that C-Note had a girlfriend. And even stranger still was the fact he didn’t care. He liked Holly, enjoyed being with her. She might even make one of these mandatory parties tolerable.

  That evening, a text bonged his cell phone. Holly Maxwell flashed on his screen and he couldn’t stop the smile.

  You up?

  He chuckled.

  It’s seven p.m. Even us old guys can stay up until eight.

  I’m fully aware of how you can stay up. [Smiling emoji]

  Tell me your daughter is not home and I can be there in fifteen minutes. Or you can be here in fifteen minutes and I’ll show you how long I can stay up.

  Katie’s home.

  I like your daughter and all, but can I encourage more sleepovers at your brother’s house?

  [Laughing emoji] I’ll see what I can do. Wanted to make sure we were still on for tomorrow at my folks’ place. You can beg off if you want. I know how my family is.

  I’m good for tomorrow. We need to be seen together. Besides, your mom is a great cook. I am not turning down her home cooking. Do you mind if I meet you there? I’d hate to get a call and leave you and Katie stranded if I have to go in.

  Meeting there is fine. I think Katie may be planning to stay with my parents tomorrow night. There’s a fireworks show she wants to see, and since I have to be at the beach so early on Memorial Day, they offered to take her and Hillary and let them stay over.

  Pack a bag and stay with me tomorrow night.

  I have to work on Monday.

  You’ll be at work on Monday.

  I’ll need to sleep before work.

  Oh. Well, that could be a problem. [Evil smile emoji] If I promise you two hours of sleep?

  Three.

  Fine. You drive a hard bargain. See you tomorrow.

  He liked that they were on the same page about a relationship. They were having fun, but neither of them wanted more. Damn, had he found the perfect woman for the summer or what?

  The next evening, he pulled up to the Longs’ house. Music flowed from the back yard. The aroma of burning charcoal filled the air. At the side of the house, two boys—Patrick and Diana’s sons, if he was remembering correctly—were chasing each other with lit sparklers.

  “Patrick,” a woman’s voice called from the house. “Make those two
stop that right now.”

  Patrick Long waved toward the window and took another draw off his beer. “Yeah, you two better stop that before your mom comes outside,” he said, no power behind his words.

  Benjamin walked up the drive. “Sparkler wars?”

  “Yep. You ever have a sparkler war with your brother?”

  Benjamin shook his head. “No brothers. No sisters either before you ask. Just me.”

  “Right. I think I knew that. Harvey. Hank. Stop running with those sparklers,” he shouted at his sons. “Demons,” he said seriously. “Both of them.”

  Benjamin laughed. “In other words, boys.”

  “Exactly. Want a beer?” Patrick gestured toward the back yard. “Cooler’s in the back.”

  “Sounds good. Holly here?”

  “In the house. Or maybe she’s in the back yard. I don’t know. My assignment was to prevent any deaths by sparklers.” He used his beer bottle to point toward his sons. “I think I’m doing a damn fine job.”

  About that time, one of the sparklers flamed out. The son with the dead sparkler took off at a run, chased by the son with the barely burning sparkler.

  “Oh. Might have spoken too soon,” Patrick said. “Enough, guys. I think Pop needs help cooking the burgers.”

  The second sparkler was now dead also. They dropped the sticks to the grass and raced toward the fence gate leading into the back yard.

  “Girls are so much easier,” Patrick said. “Hillary has never tried to kill someone.”

  Benjamin laughed and helped collect the dead sparkler sticks in the yard. “Now I’m ready for a cold one.”

  The guys headed toward the back yard and the cooler of beer. Benjamin twisted off the cap and took a long swallow.

  “Man, that hits the spot.”

  “Be around here much more, and you’ll realize your sanity depends on the alcohol. Hank! Get down out of that tree.” Patrick clicked his tongue. “Be right back.”

  “Get that taillight fixed?” Danny asked, striding toward him.

  Benjamin looked at Holly’s younger brother. “I did. Want to see it?”

  “Naw. I might twitch around it and accidentally break it again.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Hey. You’re here.” A pair of arms encased his waist.

  “I hope this is Holly, or I’m in big trouble.”

  Holly laughed and kissed his cheek. “You’re safe, Batman.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side.

  “Batman?” Danny said.

  Benjamin and Holly laughed.

  “Long story,” Holly said at the same time that Benjamin said, “Don’t ask.”

  Danny nodded. “Got it, but if this is some kinky sex thing, I really don’t want to know.”

  “Hello, Benjamin,” Patricia Long said. “Nice to see you.”

  “I appreciate the invite,” Benjamin said.

  “I don’t know if you heard, but Katie’s staying at our house tonight.”

  “Don’t play matchmaker, Mom,” Holly said.

  “Me? Play matchmaker?” Patricia’s eyes were wide with innocence. “I would never.” Then she winked and walked over to where her husband was manning the grill.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Sorry,” she said to Benjamin. “She means well.”

  “No problem.”

  “Holly!” Diana called from the house. “Can you give me hand in here?”

  “Go,” Benjamin said. “I’ll be fine.”

  He struck up a conversation with Danny and Lawrence about some ongoing crimes in San Diego. Patrick joined them after successfully getting both sons out of the tree and assigning them the job of counting fireflies that were just getting started lighting up.

  Their conversation rolled around to guns and target practice.

  “I hold the family record,” Danny said.

  “For what?” Patrick asked. “Most wasted bullets?”

  “Ha. You’re just jealous that I’m a better shot than either you or Lawrence. Hell, I’m better than Dad.”

  “You are not,” Lawrence said. “You got lucky last time. If Patrick and I hadn’t been sleep deprived with blurred vision, you’d have never beat us.”

  “Boys,” Patricia called. “Help your dad get the burgers and steaks off the grill and into the house. We’re waiting on that to eat.”

  “This conversation isn’t over,” Lawrence assured.

  Benjamin hadn’t contributed to the conversation because he was sure not one of them could outshoot him. Pistol. Long gun. Bazooka. It didn’t matter. He was good with all of them. The only person he knew who could hit a target better was Cowboy, their sharp shooter. That man could shoot the wings off a fly while it was in the air.

  The adults found seats around a dining table so laden with food, Benjamin wondered how it didn’t collapse. Then platters of meat, bowls of steaming vegetables and baskets of warm rolls moved from person to person at a speed that might rival his team with a cooler of free beer.

  Conversation flowed easily. Siblings took jabs at each other, followed by laughs and jokes. The Longs weren’t like any family he’d ever known. He and his dad had never shared a table or a joke. His dad had been quick with a backhand, but little else. He remembered having meals when his aunt had lived with them, but after her death, his meals had been whatever he could scrap together. It wasn’t until he’d joined the SEALs that he understood what brotherhood meant, what having someone at his back meant.

  How would his life have been different if he’d grown up in a family like this?

  “Hey, Pop,” Lawrence said to his dad. “Danny was bragging earlier that he was a much better a shot than you are.”

  Benjamin sat back in his chair, ready to watch the fireworks. A grin tugged at his lips as Robert Long’s head snapped up and he glared at his youngest son.

  “Well, that’s just crazy talk,” Holly’s dad said. “Ain’t nobody at this table a better shot than I am.” He looked directly at Benjamin. “Nobody.”

  “Well, now, sir,” Benjamin started, “I feel I must defend the Navy SEALs. We are the finest shots in our country’s military.” He wasn’t sure that was totally factual, but he knew for damned sure he was better than most local cops.

  Patrick snorted. “Seriously, Benjamin? The finest? You can probably swim pretty good, but I guarantee this cop can outshot you.” He pointed to himself. “Until Danny took unfair advantage of us after being on a twenty-four shift, I could hit anything you put in front of me.”

  “Especially if it was the side of a barn,” Lawrence said.

  Benjamin chuckled. “That’s fine. You local boys just go on thinking that while we professionals know better.”

  “Professionals?” Patrick said with a sputter. “I’ve got twenty dollars that says I’m a better shot.” He pulled out his wallet and slammed a twenty on the table.

  Benjamin shrugged, pulled a twenty from his wallet, and set it on the table.

  “I want a piece of that action,” Danny said “In that contest, I’d put my money on Ben here, but in a head to head with me, I’d have to put my money on me.”

  Benjamin pulled out a second twenty and laid it on the table. “Okay.”

  Danny grinned and produced a twenty. “You’re on, Squid Boy.”

  Benjamin laughed.

  “Mom,” Holly said. “Do something. This is getting out of hand.”

  “I want in on this,” Lawrence said waving a twenty.

  “Just wait a minute,” Patricia said. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried into the kitchen and returned with a notebook and pen. “I want to make sure I get all these bets recorded.”

  “Mom!” Holly said. “How could you do that?”

  “Honey, your mother is no fool. I’m willing to put my money where my mouth is. Now, Robert, are you in on this?”

  Beside him, Holly put her head in her hands. “Benjamin. They are going to take advantage of you.”

  He put an arm around her. “Don’t
you worry, cupcake. I’ll buy you something with the winnings.”

  Diana nudged Patrick. “You’ll buy me something if you win, right?”

  “Umm.”

  “Patrick,” she said and slugged his shoulder, which brought a round a laughter.

  “So, when’s the shoot-off?” Patricia asked. “I need to make a note in my betting book.”

  Phones, usually prohibited at the Long table, landed on the table as all the men began checking schedules.

  “I might can make next Friday,” Benjamin said, “providing the team isn’t called up.”

  Danny snorted. “Right. Called out. Sounds like ‘chicken out’.”

  “Danny, I swear I’m going to disown you as my brother,” Holly said as she leaned forward to speak around Benjamin.

  “Naw,” Danny said. “I’m your favorite brother.”

  Holly rolled her eyes.

  “You know Blind Harry’s?” Patrick asked Benjamin.

  “Sure. I’ve shot there before.”

  “Shoot me your cell phone number in case something comes up, and someone can’t make it.”

  The shoot-off was set for the following Friday at four.

  Benjamin rubbed his hands. He would humble some cops and make a few bucks at the same time. A win-win in his book. .

  Over strawberry shortcake with homemade ice cream served in the back yard, Benjamin joined the other guys and the kids for a few sparkler races.

  After their goodbyes, Holly and Benjamin went to their respective rides. They waved bye and drove away. About a block away, Benjamin pulled to the side of the road and she pulled up next to him. She held up her overnight bag. He grinned. When he pulled back onto the street, she pulled in behind him and followed him back to his house.

  Asking a woman to pack an overnight bag for a stay at his house was a first. Usually, he preferred to have sex at the woman’s place. That way, he was free to leave. Having a woman at his house took away some of his control, and he liked to always be in control. So, why was Holly different? Why wasn’t he freaked out by her coming home with him, knowing full well she wouldn’t be leaving? Was it because she knew he wasn’t in this for the long haul? Hadn’t she said she wanted the same?

  Except when this thing had started, sex hadn’t been on the table, and now it was. Would that change their deal?