Protecting Beca (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)

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Protecting Beca (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 4

by Kate Kinsley


  She smiles, her dimples making an appearance. “Beca,” she says, reaching out to grasp my hand. “You’re the most perfect woman any man could ask for, and he’d be a fool not to want you to be his forever.”

  “I love you, too.”

  The glowing appreciation on her face shines brighter than the noonday sun. Reaching over, she pulls me into an embrace. “Whatever happens, I know it’ll be because you want it to.” Releasing me, she adds, “I’m going to bed before I wake up with a massive hangover.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I admit. Between the martinis I had with Jason and the couple of glasses of wine, I’m praying a headache will be the least of my problems in the morning.

  She stands and places a kiss on the top of my head. “Don’t stay up too late. Tomorrow we’re going snorkeling.” With that, she retires to her room.

  The quiet time alone was what I was hoping for when I got home over an hour ago. I wanted to be able to digest the events of the evening before seeing the girls. But since it’s a moot point, I reflect now on how Jason made me feel.

  And I’m still feeling it now.

  I’d like to say it’s a crush, but it’s so much more than that.

  My skin still tingles where he touched me, and my heart beats erratically in my chest when I think about him. His voice, his face, his serious lips and shoulder muscles are all my brain can dwell on. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t control it. He’s gotten under my skin, and I’m not sure how I should deal with it. Maybe, I should play hard to get…but that might make him think I’m not interested. I don’t want that to happen.

  I’m so conflicted – this vacation was supposed to be for me and the girls, but all I can think about is him. I’ve heard that love comes when you’re not looking for it, but I didn’t believe it until just now.

  Taking a deep breath, I decide I’ll need to deal with this tomorrow when I’m not full of vodka and pinot grigio. Let’s see if I feel the same way in the morning as I do right now.

  Beca

  I awaken to soft sheets, and the morning light trickling in through the sheer curtains covering my ocean view window. Shedding myself of the remaining glimpses of a dream, my eyes are still shut as I soak in the warmth of my covers before seeing the sun's rays. Even in my dreams, my heart is racing and my knees are weak since every dream I had was of Jason.

  Blinking, I close my eyes and blink again.

  Before rising, I assess my situation: I don’t feel nauseous and my head doesn’t hurt. I’m glad I had enough sense last night to down a bottle of water and pop a couple of ibuprofen before going to bed. I’d be paying for it now if I hadn’t.

  Rolling over, I look at the clock – seven thirteen.

  I remember Sierra mentioning something about snorkeling, but I don’t remember her mentioning a time. Before someone comes barging in, I opt to get up. I’m in desperate need of coffee, anyway.

  Sitting up, I drag my feet off the bed. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. Normally, I can’t function on less than eight hours sleep, and not going to bed until almost three puts me at less than five. But knowing that I’ll see Jason for dinner gives me a good enough reason to be awake at this ungodly hour.

  I can sleep when I’m dead.

  Sliding off the bed, I stumble to the kitchen as my drowsiness is in full effect. I shuffle to the counter and remember halfway there that there isn’t a coffee maker in the villa – it comes delivered. Picking up the phone, I dial the concierge and beg him to bring coffee – and lots of it. I can wait the ten minutes it’ll take them to deliver it.

  At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  I hang up the phone and look around.

  No one is awake.

  I’ll give them until the time the coffee arrives to wake, otherwise, I’m jumping on beds. If I’m up this early, they should be too.

  I decide to take a quick shower while I’m waiting for my caffeine fix, and pad back to my room.

  More awake than I was twenty minutes ago, I emerge with a bounce to my step. The girls are huddled around the kitchen island – each one with a mug firm in their grips. They better have left me some joe, or blood will be shed.

  “Thanks for ordering the coffee,” Sierra says with a yawn.

  “It was a matter of self-preservation,” I quip as I search for a clean cup.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” Jillian asks. I turn just in time to catch a huge grin on her face. She knows better than anyone how bad my hangovers can be. Most days, it’s a wonder I’m vertical.

  I try and stick with beer and wine.

  Gin and I used to be best friends. We were inseparable most nights in my early twenties. One day, we had a massive falling out and I wound up on my front lawn spread eagle, with no memory of how I got there. The following two days I felt like I was run over by a semi, and I thought I was puking up my insides. A construction worker taking a jackhammer to my head would have felt better. Before last night, we hadn’t spoken in years and I thought I would pay the consequences.

  “Miraculously, fine,” I answer with a shrug. The girls are lucky – there’s just enough coffee for at least a cup, possibly two. I pour the life-giving liquid into my mug and inhale. Just the smell makes me smile.

  “You were pretty tuned up last night,” Shea interjects. “What were you drinking?”

  I take a sip, then answer. “Some signature drink called a Vesper with gin, vodka, and some other liquor I’d never heard of before.”

  Wow.

  This is really good coffee.

  “Oh, shit,” Jillian mutters under her breath.

  “Now, what time are we snorkeling today? Jason wants to meet up for dinner.”

  “We’re not going until one, but we’ll be back by four fifteen,” Sierra answers, picking up a brochure that was laying on the island counter. “This is what drew me to booking this cruise.” She scans the paper, then says, “Laying just three miles east of Paradise Island is the beautiful Rose Island Reef. Said to be one of the best places to snorkel in the Nassau area, Rose Island Reef is shallower than others, so you can swim over the reef line easily.”

  “That’s good. I hate diving deep, it makes my ears pop,” Shea mutters. Sierra lifts her eyes from the paper and narrows them at Shea, then continues to read. “And since it’s also home to numerous schools of tropical fish and even two shipwrecks—The Mahoney and The Alcora, a 130-foot freighter—Rose Island Reef is a great coral reef for the entire family to explore.”

  Shea huffs. “Christ. I hope we’re not surrounded by demon children.”

  “Calm your tits,” Sierra quips. “I made sure this reservation was child-free.”

  “Good to know,” Jillian muses.

  “Anyway,” Sierra mutters. “I did some research before we came, and I read good things about this cruise.”

  “What else does the brochure say?” I ask as I take a seat on the couch, now invested in this trip.

  Sierra smiles. “Enjoy the fantastic feeling of sailing on one of our Sailing Yachts - just picture yourself lying on the deck, under the white billowing jib, sunbathe on the deck, sit in the shade under the sails or in the cockpit beneath the bikini top. Listen to our great selection of music, listen to the wind, or to the waves lapping against the bow.”

  Shea finishes her coffee and goes back for the little bit that’s left. I glare, but let her have it. “Do we have to have our own mask and stuff?” she asks as she pours.

  “No,” Sierra mutters as she looks over the paper to find the answer. “Full snorkel gear & professional instruction are provided, and during the entire cruise, there is unlimited complimentary fruit punch, iced tea, lemonade, and bottled water. After the snorkeling, we serve cheese & cracker trays and during the sail home there is our delicious, unlimited complimentary rum punch.”

  “Ooooooh,” Jillian breathes. “Rum punch.”

  “I do enjoy a good rum punch,” I concur.

  “Then it’s settled,” Si
erra announces. “Today is going to be an amazing day.”

  Jase

  “What’s the plan for today, Cap?” I ask Dalton as I stand in the kitchen and sip on a cup of coffee. I’ve already been to the gym and I’m showered, ready to embrace the day. I told Beca I’d meet her for dinner, and I don’t go back on my promises.

  “Babe, what do you want to do today?” he asks Ava, who’s exiting the bedroom.

  “I was thinking we’d just kick back and relax on the beach. Let me check with Fiona.” She changes direction and moves toward Cookie and Fiona’s room.

  “Personally, I don’t care as long as there’s alcohol involved,” I say with a shrug.

  “Fuck, yeah!” Dalton agrees, then moves to the couch. “I may even have one of those fruity things…what are they called?”

  “That would be a rum punch,” Cookie interjects. He pours a cup of coffee and sits down at the kitchen island. How he drinks black coffee…

  “Yes, one of those. I’m feeling tropical today.”

  Fiona and Ava emerge from Fiona’s bedroom. “I thought we could go snorkeling or something today?” Fiona says as she moves into the kitchen and reaches for a coffee cup.

  “Aw, crap,” he mutters under his breath and out of earshot.

  The man worships the ground she walks on and is paranoid about her safety.

  Over the top, borderline obsessive concern.

  But, he loves her and will do almost anything she asks. “Whatever you want to do babe, is fine with me.”

  “It’ll be fun,” she insists. After pouring a cup, she sashays into the living room and sits next to Cookie and kisses him on the cheek.

  “Snorkeling it is,” Dalton announces. “Unless anyone else has a problem with that.”

  I take a seat on the chair across from Dalton. “Snorkeling sounds great, as long as we’re back before dinner.”

  “Got a hot date?” Dalton teases, moving his left index finger in and out of a hole he makes with his right index finger and thumb.

  “Fuck you,” I answer, flipping him the bird.

  “Leave him alone,” Ava scolds him. He chuckles, but listens to his girl and lays off me. I shoot him a smug smile.

  She crosses the kitchen to the table by the front door. “There’s a bunch of pamphlets, let’s see if there’s a snorkeling one.” She picks up the stack and brings them into the kitchen. Spreading them out across the island, she scans the papers. “This looks promising,” she mutters as she picks one up out of the pile.

  “Barefoot Sailing Cruises,” Fiona mutters as she scans the page over

  Ava’s shoulder. “The pictures of the coral reefs are really pretty.”

  “We offer the very best Bahamas Snorkeling Adventures & Rose Island Beaching Cruises - in Nassau and Paradise Island - all while enjoying the pleasures of sailing,” Ava reads to us. “We absolutely turn off the engine and genuinely sail, and we guarantee an unforgettable experience.” She turns to Dalton. “This sounds like fun.”

  “What times do they sail?” I ask as I stand and move into the kitchen.

  Ava pauses a moment as she reads, then answers, “Nine a.m. to twelve-fifteen, or one to four-fifteen.”

  I glance at my watch.

  Eight fifty-two.

  “We’re not going to make the nine, why don’t you call and see if we can book the one o’clock slot?” She places the pamphlet on the bar and something catches my eye. Picking it up, I see the picture of a sailboat with the title “Sunset Champagne Cruise.”

  I tune out the girls who are chatting about something and read the page to myself. Join us for a two-hour Champagne Sunset Cruise. Sail into the sunset and enjoy a beautiful, romantic evening while you watch the sky change colors and see Nassau's spectacular harbor lights appear. This cruise doesn't go anywhere in particular - you'll be sailing and seeing the sights through Nassau Harbor, under the Paradise Island bridges, out into Montagu Bay, right alongside the cruise ships, or on the North side of Paradise Island. This sounds like the perfect night out.

  Around twelve-thirty, we take a shuttle to the dock where the cruise to nowhere leaves. The six of us board the sailboat, ready for our snorkeling excursion. It isn’t until I’m halfway up the ramp that I notice fiery red hair exiting another hotel minivan out of the corner of my eye. I blink, thinking I’m seeing things, but my vision doesn’t change.

  What are the odds that Beca is doing the same touristy stuff we are?

  If this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.

  I stop in my tracks and turn toward the beauty and sure enough, it’s her. She is simply stunning. It’s like I’m in a trance – the kind that brings a butterfly to nectar.

  Beca and her entourage stride toward the boat. She raises her head toward my direction and a smile crosses her lips. Lowering her sunglasses down her nose, her eyes meet mine. Her smile turns to laughter as she shakes her head in disbelief.

  I wait at the top of the ramp as they make their approach.

  Standing in front of me is a red-headed angel. “Are you following me?” she asks, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head.

  “I do believe I was here first, so I could ask you the same,” I quip.

  Her smile widens, and it’s infectious. “You make a valid point.”

  “I do believe this may be fate,” I add. “You and I being in the same place at the same time.” I chuckle and try to hide my bemused smile. “What are the odds?” I answer as I move closer to her.

  “One in a million,” she mutters. She glances back at her friends, then back to me. Her furrowed eyebrows are replaced with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “Did you plan this?”

  “I see how this looks, and had I known you were going to be here today…” I trail off, running my fingers through my hair.

  She smiles. “It is fate.” Then, she laughs. It appears I’m off the hook, not that I should have been on it in the first place.

  “Well, look who it is,” the tall blonde announces to the other girls.

  “Did you plan this?” the girl with the dark curly hair asks. Maybe I should have paid more attention when Beca gave me their names.

  “No. Isn’t that cool?” Beca answers her.

  “Well, the island isn’t that big,” the blonde quips.

  Damn, she’s a glass half empty chick.

  “Stop being such a party pooper,” the third girl scolds. “This would make an amazing story in a book or a movie.”

  More like a romantic comedy when I push her friends overboard. “Nice to see you ladies again,” I say with a smile.

  “Don’t mind them,” Beca whispers.

  The boat isn’t that big and as it turns out, we’re the only ones on the trip. I still can’t get over the fact that Beca is here. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to run something by you.” Taking a seat at the back of the boat, I pat the cushion next to me. As she sits, I ask, “How do you feel about a champagne sunset cruise after dinner tonight?”

  “I would love to, but the girls and I are going to a comedy club tonight.”

  I’m disappointed, but not discouraged. She did say this vacation was all about her friends, and I don’t want to take her away from them – especially since she barely knows me.

  “Fair enough,” I answer as I run my fingers through my hair.

  The mates untie the boat and cast off. Cookie and Fiona move toward the bow of the boat, Dalton and Ava sit next to me.

  “This is going to be an amazing day,” Ava tells Dalton as she grasps his hand.

  Yes, it is.

  Ava notices Beca beside me and furrows her brow. Crap. I should probably introduce them. “Dalton, Ava, this is Beca. Beca, Dalton and Ava.” I completely suck at this.

  “Hi,” they say in unison.

  “Nice to meet you,” she answers with a smile. “Jason, I’ll be right back.” Standing, she moves by her friends.

  Once Beca’s out of earshot, Ava leans into Dalton so she can talk to me. “Jase, tomorrow, don’t make any
plans. We’re going on a tour of the island from the water.”

  “When did you do that?” I ask.

  “Before we left. I wasn’t going to mention it, but it seems as if you have a friend and I don’t want you making any other plans.” As she finishes her sentence, Cookie and Fiona rejoin us and sit next to Ava.

  Ava studies me for a second and tilts her head. “What’s with the giant smile?” she asks, her tone coy.

  I think it’s time I fess up. “Guys, I think I may have found ‘the one.’”

  Daltons head snaps around. “No fucking way. That’s impossible,” he scoffs. Cookie’s jaw drops and Fiona is all smiles.

  Dalton is not one to judge.

  “Why? You did it,” I remind him, cocking a brow.

  “Yeah, but I’m not the Navy’s biggest playboy,” Dalton argues. Cookie chuckles but stops once Fiona narrows her eyes at him.

  Ava smacks Dalton on the bicep. “Stop it.” Turning her attention to me, she adds, “Look how happy he is, Dalton. He should be as happy as we are.”

  Before I have a chance to answer, Beca comes back. Ava being Ava, moves from Dalton’s side to Beca’s.

  “Listen, we booked a day cruise to tour the island tomorrow. Would you like to join us?” Ava asks her. Why am I not surprised Ava’s playing matchmaker?

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t get to see my friends—”

  “Invite them along. Dalton’s paying, so it’s not a problem,” I offer, cutting her off before she can find an excuse not to come. Turning my head slightly, I give Dalton a wink. His smirk tells me he’s all good with my executive decision.

  “I can ask them,” she offers, her smile growing wider by the second.

  “It’ll be a nice change of scenery from the villas,” I add, not that I think she needs any incentive.

  “I agree. Let me go and ask them. I’ll be right back.”

  “She’s adorable, Jason!” Ava praises once she’s out of earshot.

 

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