HOT SEAL Hero

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Chloe and Avery both burst out laughing. “Damn, girl,” Avery said. Then she sighed. “I think that’s at least partially why I want to marry Jimmy. He knows where it is and knows how to use it.”

  “Good enough reason for me,” JoJo said. “If I find a guy who can tickle me good, I’ll marry him for sure.”

  “I don’t know,” Chloe said. “My ex knew where it was. But he was a dick in so many other ways that it didn’t matter. I’d rather go without for the rest of my life than put up with that ever again.”

  She hadn’t told Avery and JoJo everything about Travis, but she’d told them enough. JoJo patted her hand. “Honey, I hear you. But not all men are the same, so maybe this Ryan is a good guy and he’ll treat you right.”

  “I think he is a good guy. He spent the night on my couch and never once tried to touch me or kiss me. Honestly, I think I’d have freaked if he had. I still can’t believe I let him stay.”

  “So why did you? You aren’t scared of a raccoon, are you?” Avery asked.

  Chloe nibbled the inside of her lip. “No. I got a text. One word—bitch. It might have been the mover who walked off the job. Or it might have been Travis.”

  Avery put a hand over her mouth. JoJo looked furious. “Oh honey,” she said. “You don’t really think he got your number do you?”

  “It’s possible, I guess. I don’t know how, but I wouldn’t put it past him to keep trying until he succeeded.”

  Avery looked worried. “You didn’t give anyone your new address did you?”

  “My cousin knows, of course. But I didn’t tell anyone back home. And Christopher wouldn’t. He knows it was bad between me and Travis.”

  “Still,” JoJo said. “You need to be careful. And maybe keep that SEAL close.”

  Chloe’s pulse skipped a little higher at the thought but JoJo’s timer went off on her phone before Chloe could reply.

  “Gotta get Mrs. Taylor! Think about it, Chloe.”

  Once she was gone, Avery squeezed Chloe’s hand. “Jo’s right, you know. If this guy is handsome as you say, and decent too, maybe you need to get out there again. Give it another try.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready.” She thought of Ryan coming to her rescue yesterday when the mover quit and then again last night. “But maybe I will be soon.”

  6

  Ryan didn’t like the things he’d learned about Chloe Cooper today. Chloe Evans, actually. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Chloe—but her ex-boyfriend was on a hate group watch list.

  Travis James was a known militia leader. His group was vehemently anti-government, anti-immigrant, and racist—and they quartered themselves on two-hundred acres outside of Cedarville. They didn’t have any trouble in Cedarville due to the cozy relationship between James and the sheriff, but the police in Tuscaloosa and other nearby cities had a different view of them.

  The James Gang, as law enforcement called them, stockpiled weapons and practiced paramilitary drills on the property. They were supposedly preparing for a terrorist invasion, though in reality they were just a bunch of bullies who liked to pretend they were tough enough for the military without actually joining the military. Ryan had no use for people like that. Not when he and his brothers on the SEAL team—all his brothers and sisters in HOT, actually—fought real terror threats around the world. People like Travis James and his group wouldn’t survive for long if they ever had to confront real terrorists.

  Ryan drove home thinking about Chloe and how skittish she’d been with him. And he wondered just what kind of relationship she’d had with Travis James. How had a seemingly sweet girl like her gotten tangled up with an asshole like that?

  Or maybe she wasn’t as sweet as she seemed. Maybe she bought into the philosophy too, but the romance had died and she’d left James behind for an opportunity here.

  Ryan pulled into the driveway and shoved his truck into park. Chloe wasn’t home yet. He got out of the vehicle and went inside. He was in uniform today and he was about to change out of it when he saw her car pull in. He went to the fridge and grabbed a sports drink before heading outside.

  She was just getting out of her car when he crossed the street. She turned as he approached, her eyes widening for a second before she glanced away. Her hair was down, long locks flowing over her shoulders, and not for the first time he let his gaze wander from the curve of her throat to her breasts and down to the skinny jeans that hugged her fine ass and legs. She wasn’t wearing heels anymore. She’d changed to flip-flops since this morning.

  “Hi,” he said as he strolled up.

  “Hi.”

  “You changed your shoes.”

  She started. “Yes, I did. My feet had had enough.”

  “You just getting home?”

  “Yes.” She opened the back door and pulled out a couple of grocery bags. “Had to go to the store first.”

  “Need help?”

  She glanced at him again. A blush stained her cheeks. He took that as a good sign. And yet he was still asking himself if she bought into that militia bullshit or if she’d just gotten herself into a bad situation before she’d finally escaped.

  “That would be great. Thank you.”

  He reached into the car and grabbed the rest of the bags. Then he followed her into the house. She put everything on the kitchen counters and he did the same. She started removing groceries from bags and putting things in the fridge. He watched her bend over, her round ass in the air, and his dick practically whimpered with longing.

  “Any other messages today?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.

  She straightened and turned to face him. “No. I think it must have been the mover. I blocked him so I don’t think he’ll try again.”

  “You might be right. His name is Darrell Pruitt and he’s got a rap sheet about a mile long. Trespassing, forging checks, possession of controlled substances, DUI. He has a history of making threats against women, unfortunately. And he also has a restraining order from his last girlfriend.”

  “Sounds like a guy at the end of his rope,” she said. “Maybe yesterday was just too much for him.”

  “Maybe so. There’s no proof it was him, but it’s likely.”

  Her shoulders seemed to sag just a little bit. Relief? “You thought it was Travis James.”

  She stiffened at the name. “I was worried it could be. I’d much rather a threat from a guy like Darrell, quite honestly.”

  “James isn’t a nice guy, is he?”

  She didn’t look at him. Her chin dropped for a second. She busied herself with lining up tomatoes on her counter so they could ripen. “Not really, no.”

  “Did you live with him, Chloe?”

  She turned. “No, I didn’t. We dated for about five months. He wanted me to move in—but I wouldn’t. My mama was still sick then, and I needed to be near the hospital. Then when she came home for hospice, I definitely wasn’t going to leave her. After she died—well, I needed time.”

  “Your last name is Evans, not Cooper. You changed it so he wouldn’t find you?”

  She swallowed, but she didn’t seem surprised he knew the truth. “Yes. Cooper was my granddaddy’s name. I took something that was familiar but also not something anyone looking for Chloe Evans would recognize.”

  “Did you change it legally, or you’re just using it?”

  “I’m just using it.”

  “Which means your employment records, your license, everything that matters has your actual name.”

  “Yes. But I can’t change those without a court order, and I don’t have one.”

  He could tell her a thing or two about hiding and using aliases. It was part of what he did in HOT when necessary for a mission. “You need to get an address in a post office or a rented office space somewhere and have all your Chloe Evans mail sent there. Then you need to send someone to pick it up for you from time to time. Don’t send anything here. Only things you can fudge your name on, like magazine subscriptions.”

  �
�That’s a good idea. I’ve been getting things at the salon for now.”

  “Change it soon. You don’t want anyone tracking you down over there.”

  “I’ll get a PO box tomorrow and send out changes of address.”

  “Good. Don’t let time waste on this one. It’s critical if you want to avoid being found.” He took a sip of the drink. “What would he do if he found you, Chloe?”

  She looked troubled. He didn’t think she’d say, but then she sighed and leaned against the counter. “What would he do? I don’t know for certain, but most likely he’d take me back to Cedarville and lock me up on his farm.”

  Ryan’s gut twisted at the thought. He had no use for men like Travis James. “Was it serious between you?”

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she muttered. Then she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Serious is relative. Travis wanted to marry me and keep me barefoot and pregnant as part of his new world order bullshit. I didn’t want that. But he’s not the kind of guy who takes no for an answer. My only choice was to leave. And if my mama hadn’t died and I hadn’t managed to talk him into giving me time to grieve and sort out her household, I’d be a prisoner in his house right now.”

  Ryan decided that beating Travis James into a pulp was probably too good for the man. “How did you get involved with him?”

  She rubbed her forehead for a second. “I wish I could say that I didn’t know he was a jerk, but of course I knew. I just thought he’d changed since high school. He came into the salon I was working at and started flirting with me. He was very patient, very thoughtful. Mama was sick, but we didn’t know it was cancer yet. She didn’t get the diagnosis until I’d been dating Travis for a month. Two months after that, she was gone. It took me nearly another two months to get away. I probably should have left sooner.” She flung her hand out, gesturing to the furniture and boxes stacked in the house. “I couldn’t leave this behind. It’s all I had left of her and Daddy. Maybe I should have.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek and Ryan’s heart squeezed. “Hey, look at me.”

  Her head came up, her eyes shimmering. She dashed her fingers beneath them. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m upset. I shouldn’t be.”

  He put an arm around her, pulled her against his side. He wanted to hug her but she seemed wary enough that he didn’t. “Honey, you can be upset if you want to be. Nobody gets to tell you you can’t.”

  She relaxed into his side, her stiff body melting a little against him. He felt like he’d coaxed a baby bird into his hand or something. “Thank you.”

  “How do you feel about getting some pizza with me? There’s this great bar where my buddies and I hang out. Everyone is friendly, and you seem like you could use a few friends. I promise you these are all big guys who’d stomp Travis James into a pancake if he ever turns up here looking for you.”

  It wasn’t the party he and Neo were supposed to have at their place, but he didn’t think they had time to wait. Besides, most of the guys would be there along with their women. Prime opportunity to introduce Chloe to the crowd.

  “I don’t know…”

  “It’s not a date,” he added, though he kinda wanted it to be. “I mean not this time. Just dinner with some SEALs and their ladies. You can take your car if you want, that way you can be in control of your own schedule. But if you still don’t want to, that’s fine. Another time.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes so pretty and vulnerable. He didn’t know Travis James, but he knew for sure he hated him. Hated him for putting fear and uncertainty into Chloe’s eyes.

  “Can I ride with you?”

  “If you want to.”

  She smiled tentatively. “I do.”

  Ryan left to go change out of his uniform and Chloe went into her bedroom to look for something suitably casual to wear. She still didn’t know why she’d said yes when she’d meant to say no, but he seemed so sincere and so concerned with her comfort that she’d found herself agreeing to go out for pizza.

  Chloe pulled out a pair of dark green pants with motorcycle detailing at the knees and a soft white silk tank with spaghetti straps. She paired the outfit with sparkly flip flops and put her hair into a high pony, leaving out a few strands to soften her face. She slicked on fresh lip gloss and stared at herself in the mirror.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said to her reflection.

  Ryan Callahan was tall and muscular and so damned overwhelmingly confident that he made her feel safe without even trying. She’d been stunned that he knew so much about Travis—and about her real name—but she’d quickly realized that it made a lot of sense he’d find out. He’d told her he could research the phone number of whomever had sent that text and then he’d found out it was a burner phone, so why wouldn’t he find out the truth about her?

  Did SEALs have a database they connected to or something? Probably.

  Chloe turned from the mirror and went to get her purse. Then she checked all the locks on her doors and windows and waited for Ryan to return. Her phone pinged with a text and she pulled it out of her purse.

  Ryan: Leaving in a couple minutes. You ready?

  She texted him back. Yes. Want me to come over there?

  Ryan: Only if you want to.

  I can do that.

  Chloe stepped outside and locked the door, making sure it was secure before strolling through the yard and across the street. It was still sunny out and someone was mowing their lawn nearby. She couldn’t see the lawnmower, but she could hear it. A dog barked. It felt normal. She thought of happy times growing up when she’d sat outside with friends on summer days, in a neighborhood like this one, and talked about dreams and plans for the future. She’d had no idea that life would turn out like this. That she’d be alone and afraid, and that her parents would both be gone.

  She still had friends back in Cedarville, and friends who’d moved to Tuscaloosa and Birmingham and Huntsville, but she couldn’t share these things with them. Not anymore. How could she tell those girls she’d hung out with that she’d let a man hit her and intimidate her? It was embarrassing and disgusting and she hated that she’d let it happen. She felt like she should have been stronger, should have gotten out sooner.

  But that was the thing about men like Travis. They were master manipulators, and they knew how to make you think it was your fault and not theirs. They backhanded you the first time, and then they acted horrified and so contrite. They begged you to forgive them, swore it would never happen again—they were just tired or scared or not quite themselves right that minute.

  So you forgave them, though you made them work for it. And then it happened again, and by then you were too deep in to get out gracefully. Mama was sick, and Mama loved Travis. He brightened her days with his visits. So you decided you’d stay just until she’d passed peacefully, happy because she believed you were going to be taken care of and not left alone.

  Ryan emerged from the house as she walked up to his truck in the drive. He was wearing faded jeans that were threadbare at the knees and a black short-sleeved henley that hugged his chest. His dark hair was curly and short, and his smile as their eyes met was mega-watt dazzling.

  Lord, he was a pretty man.

  “You look amazing, Chloe.”

  She couldn’t stop the blush that flared in her cheeks. “Thanks. So do you.”

  He came down the steps and walked over to the passenger door where she was standing. Then he opened it for her. Her heart hitched. Something must have shown on her face because Ryan’s brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”

  Maybe she’d sound nuts if she said it, but she’d said so much to this man already that what was one more thing? “Travis opened my car door when we started dating. It didn’t last, though. He wanted to make a good impression on me at first, and then he didn’t care.”

  Ryan frowned. “I open the door because my aunt taught me to do so. But I only do it if the lady I’m with doesn’t mind, which I find
out pretty quickly if she says she doesn’t need it or want it. It’s not about impressing you. It’s about respecting you. If you don’t like it, I won’t do it. But if you don’t mind, then I’m going to open your door whether we go out together once or a hundred times.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said softly. Because she really didn’t. She liked it when a man opened a car door for her. It was something her daddy had always done for her mother. And her mother had not been a fainting flower. She’d been strong and independent, and her husband had supported her in whatever she’d wanted to do. But he opened car doors for her, and she’d never told him not to.

  Chloe got inside and Ryan shut the door. Then he went around to the driver’s side and got in. She was a little nervous to be in a car with him, but that was her own insecurities rearing up and not anything he’d done.

  “So you’re from Alabama,” Ryan said as he reversed out of the drive.

  “Born and raised.”

  “You’re going to like Miranda. She’s from Alabama too. She’s married to one of my buddies. They should be there tonight. Her husband is Cody, but we call him Cowboy.”

  Chloe concentrated. “So Neo is Zach and Cody is Cowboy. Does everybody go by something other than his given name?”

  Ryan laughed. “They’re call signs. Nicknames we get, often meant humorously, but we tend to use them with each other so much that we think of ourselves by those names.”

  “Do you have one?” She remembered Neo called him dirty but that couldn’t be right. Could it?

  “I do.” He glanced at her and grinned. “It’s Dirty Harry.”

  Chloe blinked. “Dirty who? Harry? Oh, wait a minute… My dad used to watch those movies. Clint Eastwood, right? Dirty Harry Callahan.”

  “That’s right. Do you feel lucky, punk?” he added in a growl.

  She laughed. “Well, do you?”

  “Did he fire six shots or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I've kinda lost track myself—God I love that scene.”

  “My dad really loved those kinds of movies. He was a big John Wayne fan too.”