by Cindy Dees
Griffin stirred beneath her ear. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Ravenous.”
Without moving her off his chest, he reached for the phone on the nightstand. “What do you want for breakfast?” he murmured.
“Pancakes,” she answered promptly. “A big stack of them dripping in butter and maple syrup.”
“Coming up, Princess.”
While they waited for breakfast to be delivered, they showered in the oversize stall with its double heads.
“Scrub your back?” Griffin offered.
She turned and presented her back to him. He washed her gently with the scratchy sponge.
“My turn.” Taking the loofah from him, she commenced scrubbing her way across his muscular back. “Every single time I’ve been naked in those showers with you and that stupid wall was between us, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be all soapy and slippery and naked in your arms.”
“Wish granted,” he declared, drawing her against his body.
Thankfully, room service was slow, and they had time to make lazy, slippery love in the shower, and for her to wash and rinse her hair, blow-dry it, and don one of the hotel’s fluffy bathrobes before she heard a knock on the hotel-room door.
She waited until the door closed and then stepped out of the bathroom.
Griffin was barefoot, his jeans slung low on his hips, and hadn’t bothered to don his T-shirt. She gulped at the sight of his perfect physique, wreathed in muscle.
He held a chair for her at the little table over by the balcony door, and she slipped into it, shy all of a sudden.
Ever perceptive, he asked as he sat down in his own chair, “What’s up?”
“You can be a bit intimidating, you know.”
“Me? How?”
“Have you looked at yourself in a mirror?”
“I might say the same for you, Miss Beauty Queen.”
She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. “I joined this operation to leave all that behind.”
He snorted. “Meanwhile, I’m a grizzled old wreck.”
She picked up her knife and fork and risked a glance up at him. “You’re a warrior. Not too many men in this day and age can say that.”
He shrugged, setting off a display of rippling muscles that had her thinking about another round in the sack with him sooner rather than later. Food first. Then sex.
She dug into the fluffy pancakes with gusto, while Griffin made short work of steak and eggs.
Eventually, he pushed his plate back and propped his elbows on the table. “Thanks for this. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”
“Funny, but I was about to say the same thing to you.” Their gazes met in a moment of naked intimacy that rocked her more than she dared to let on. He looked away first, staring out at the ocean glittering in the morning light.
“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about,” she ventured.
He glanced back at her, then frowned faintly as if he sensed her hesitation. “Surely after everything we’ve shared, you know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I hope so.”
Now she had his undivided attention. His gaze was laser-sharp, taking in every nuance of her body language and expression all of a sudden. Gulp.
She said firmly, “When we get back to Camp Jarvis, I’m going to tell Commander Kettering I’m volunteering to be the one to go to BUD/S.”
Griffin’s eyes popped wide with surprise. “Why?”
“Because it’s not fair to ask you to stay here training me any longer. You need to get overseas and be with your team. They’ve just suffered a devastating loss. And besides, if I know you and your guys, all of you will be out for revenge. The Reapers could use your help to nail Haddad.”
“As true as all of that may be, why would you throw away your shot at being a real SEAL? You’re every bit as good as Anna and Lily.”
She shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“But is it what you want?” he persisted.
“Hey, aren’t you the guy who told me last night you didn’t want me anywhere near real operations? That you were terrified I would die if I went out in the field?”
He scowled. “That’s not the point. The point is you’re good enough to have a shot at it for real. Why would you throw that away? You’re not the kind of person to settle for second best. I know you.”
She supposed he did. The stress of the training he’d put her through had a way of stripping away all the artifice and revealing a person’s essential being. But that sword swung both ways. She knew him, too.
Which was why, as sure as she was sitting here, she knew he would start to resent her going forward, for keeping him away from his brothers-in-arms.
She pushed her own plate back, planting her elbows on the table and matching his stare head on. “I want you to teach me how to survive BUD/S. I’m not talking about more screaming and logs and freezing in the ocean. I’ve got all that stuff wired. I need you to tear apart the mental aspects for me and talk me through the ultimate lessons I’m supposed to draw from it all.”
“That would be cheating,” he replied shortly. “BUD/S is not only a rite of passage, but also carefully designed to weed out those who can’t cut it as SEALs.”
“Yes. But it would get me out of your hair fast so you can get back to your team.”
He frowned.
She drove the point home. “We all know I’m not going to end up being a real SEAL anyway. So what does it matter if I cheat? Besides, you said all SEALs cheat. They just don’t get caught.”
“Are you so eager to get rid of me?” he asked lightly.
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“I’ve given a lot of thought to this. It’s not a spur-of-the-moment decision. I’m the right woman to do BUD/S. I have the publicity experience, and I can handle the spotlight better than Anna or Lily could.”
Griffin sighed heavily, as if he saw the logic of her argument but didn’t like it.
She continued. “It’s not as if the Navy is going to let me have a fair shot at the course, anyway. The fix is on, and everyone knows it. So let’s get this thing done as quickly and easily for all of us as we possibly can.”
“You do have a point,” he said slowly.
“Perfect!” she said brightly. “Let’s get back to camp and let Kettering know what I’ve decided. Then you and I can sit down and get to work. The sooner the better.”
“Don’t try to bulldoze me,” he warned. “I want to talk with Cal about this before I agree to your plan.”
“Fair enough.” It wasn’t a win, but it wasn’t a defeat for her, either.
At least he was willing to consider her proposal. That was miles beyond where he’d started this whole process of training women SEALs a few months ago.
Now to convince Cal Kettering.
Chapter 13
Cal turned out to be an easier sell on the idea than Griffin had expected he would be. The guy seemed relieved not to have to choose between the women candidates, and he agreed with Sherri that she was the best choice to handle the media coverage and fame that would come with being the first woman SEAL.
Griffin couldn’t believe he was doing it, but he found himself arguing against the whole idea to the two of them. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but Sherri would make a decent SEAL. Are we throwing away a potentially useful asset in order to hurry her through the program?”
Cal leaned back in his desk chair, his eyes bloodshot. The guy obviously was sporting one hell of a hangover today. Thanks to Sherri’s water and french fries last night, Griffin had avoided the same fate.
“Are you sure about this, Sherri?” Cal asked. “Once I pull the trigger, there will be no turning back.”
“I
’m sure.”
“Why?”
“Come on. We all know I’m the media-ready one of the three of us women. Don’t get me wrong, Anna and Lily will make great special operators, but neither one of them would know how to be a poster child. And we all know that’s precisely what the Navy wants.”
Cal looked back and forth between Griffin and Sherri long enough that Griffin actually started to feel fidgety. Cal asked him without warning, “How long will it take you to make Sherri ready for BUD/S?”
Griffin frowned. “She hasn’t done the obstacle course yet, and she hasn’t passed the drowning evolution. Beyond that, I think she could be ready in a matter of days.”
Cal looked at the calendar that was his desk pad. “There’s a BUD/S class starting INDOC in two weeks. I’ll make the call.”
The reality of the end of his time with Sherri hit him with the weight of a sledgehammer. He was going to leave her behind to suffer through BUD/S alone while he flew halfway around the world to catch a terrorist. Which was as it should be. But damn it all, he was going to miss her.
She would move on. Become a celebrity. Forget about him. Find herself some pretty-boy movie star or up-and-coming politician to hook up with.
Griffin rose to his feet. There had to be at least a little whiskey left over somewhere in the instructors’ barracks from last night. He suddenly felt a burning need to tie one on. Hard. And without a pitcher of water and carbs to dull the effects of it.
Sherri rose as well, thanking Cal quietly.
Griffin reached for the office door to open it for her.
“Oh, and Griffin?” Cal said casually.
No, no, no. He knew that tone of voice out of his boss. Bracing himself for a direct hit, he turned to face Cal. “Yes, sir?”
“You’ll be going with Sherri to Coronado. I’ll see to it you’re assigned as an adjunct instructor for the duration of her BUD/S course.”
“What?” he and Sherri exclaimed in unison.
“You didn’t think I was going to throw her to the sharks without any kind of backup, did you?”
“But Haddad—”
“That SOB will wait. Right now, I need you to finish Operation Valkyrie. Get Sherri through BUD/S. Then we all can go back to our regularly scheduled lives. Trust me, the Reapers will get their pound of flesh out of Abu Haddad. But we’ll do it together. All of us. As a team.”
Griffin was startled by the fury vibrating in Cal’s voice. The man rarely showed emotion, and when he did, it was cold and tightly disciplined. He’d honestly never seen Cal like this. The man had a serious hard-on for killing Haddad.
Griffin knew how his boss felt. They were on exactly the same page.
He nodded tersely. “I’ll have her ready.”
“See to it she makes it through BUD/S. Do whatever you have to, Grif.”
“Roger that, sir.”
* * *
Which was why that afternoon found him at the swimming pool with Sherri and a handful of zip ties. She threw skeptical looks back and forth between him and the pool.
“We’re going to start in the shallow end today,” he explained. “I’m going to break down how to swim while tied up, and you’re going to practice it without the zip ties until you master it.”
It felt weird to spoon-feed her the trade secrets to passing a training evolution like this, but so be it. If the Navy wanted a woman SEAL, then a woman SEAL he would give them.
“The trick is to accept that you’re going to spend most of this type of swimming underwater. You’ll only surface to breathe. Where people mess it up is by trying to get their faces above water and keep them there.”
“You could’ve told me that the last time you nearly drowned me,” Sherri replied tartly.
“One of the big objects of BUD/S is to mess with your mind and see how you handle it. How mentally tough are you? Since we’re not worried about that with you anymore, I can tell you all the tricks.”
She scowled and slid into the pool, standing chest deep in the water.
“Clasp your hands behind your back and hold your feet together like they’re zip-tied. I’ll move you into the deeper water, and I’ll be right there with you this time. Any time you feel like you can’t get to the surface to breathe, let go of your hands and kick yourself up to the surface.”
When the screaming and harassment and abject terror were stripped out of the drowning evolution, Sherri picked up fast on how to swim like a dolphin, relaxing and letting herself sink gently between breaths, and then kicking up to the surface just long enough to breathe.
“Good. Now, let’s put you in clothing. It’s heavier, and you’ll sink faster and deeper. It’s the same motion, though. You’ll just have to work at it a little harder.”
It took her a few tries to overcome momentary panic attacks, but she got the hang of it soon enough.
“Ready to try it with zip ties?” he asked.
She nodded, looking more determined than scared. Good. That was the right mindset for this evolution.
He stepped up behind her at the edge of the pool and ran his palms down her arms, drawing them behind her back. He took a quick look around to make sure they were alone and leaned forward to place a quick kiss on the side of her neck.
Sherri laughed under her breath. “Is this some new version of the drowning evolution? Distract the trainee so bad they can’t concentrate enough to pass the test?”
“Something like that.” He put on the zip ties and pulled them as tight as they would be in the real BUD/S course. “Ready?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she answered firmly.
He placed his hands on her waist and tossed her out into the swimming pool. He was considerably gentler than her BUD/S instructors would be. But today was about teaching her how to do the swimming, not terrifying her.
Griffin watched her carefully as she sank into the water, counting in his head. After about fifteen seconds, she dolphin kicked several times and her face briefly broke the surface. She took a deep breath and then sank again. In about fifteen more seconds, she repeated the maneuver. Perfect. He nodded in approval the next time she surfaced. She smiled briefly and then sank again.
He jumped in beside her and pulled her into water she could stand in. He said, “Now see if you can travel with it. You’ll have to swim a few lengths of a pool like this,” he called.
She added forward motion to the maneuver easily. After she’d swum to the far end and back to him, he cut her loose.
Immediately, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. “I did it!”
He grinned back at her. How in the hell had he gone from determined to wash her out of the program to taking almost parental pride in her success? It was crazy.
They climbed out of the pool, and while she toweled off, he reached into his duffel bag. “I have something for you.” He handed her a piece of rough hemp rope about two feet long and the thickness of his wrist. She turned it over curiously in her hands.
“What’s it for?” she asked.
“Calluses. You’re going to do a whole lot of rope climbing, tug-of-wars, swinging on ropes, and the like. I noticed last night that your hands are too soft.”
Her gaze snapped up to his, and instant heat flared between them. He continued doggedly, “Whenever you’re sitting around doing nothing over the next few weeks, you need to rub that piece of rope across your palms. Don’t make them bleed or tear the calluses you do have. But you need to toughen up your hands.”
She smiled at him. “You think of everything.”
“Hardly. I’m just trying to think of anything that could trip you up so we can prepare you for it.”
“I really appreciate what you’re doing for me, Griffin.”
He met her gaze head on. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
She blinked, and that looked l
ike moisture accumulating in her eyes.
“Don’t you dare cry on me, Tate. And definitely don’t cry at BUD/S.”
She stood up a little straighter and squared her shoulders. “Big girls don’t cry, Caldwell.”
Truth be told, he didn’t think he would mind all that much if she cried on his shoulder sometimes. Hell. He’d cried on hers last night, and the world hadn’t ended. But first, he had to get her through BUD/S. And the guys there would eat her alive if she dared to show any kind of vulnerability.
He sent her to the showers alone. He didn’t think he had the will to resist her, and Cal was in the gym working out, which meant he would shower soon. Instead, Griffin made his way back to the instructors’ barracks.
Trevor lay in his bed, in significantly worse shape than Cal. Griffin jogged over to the mess hall and grabbed a loaf of bread, some crackers, an armful of water bottles, and a roll of antacid out of a first aid kit. He took his haul back to the hut.
“Where’d you disappear to last night?” Trevor asked, enunciating carefully.
“I had to get out of here for a while. Went down to the beach. Had a few drinks. Slept it off.”
“With Sherri?”
Rule number one of being on a SEAL team was never to lie to your brothers. It made for some uncomfortable conversations and some painful confessions. But absolute trust was, bar none, the most important aspect of the work they did.
He sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked Trev dead in the eye and said, “Yeah. With Sherri.”
The Brit nodded. “She’s been good for you.”
Startled, Griffin blurted out, “How’s that?”
“She’s mellowed you.” As Griffin scowled in displeasure, Trevor added quickly, “In a good way. She makes you laugh. She has taken a few of the rough edges off you.”
Griffin shrugged. “That’s because she’s a woman. I’m not gonna treat her like I would one of you Neanderthals.”
Trevor spoke slowly. “I’m not so sure the influence of women on a team would be a bad thing.”
Whoa. Never in a million years would he have expected the Brit to take that stance. “Do the ladies know how you feel?” Griffin asked.