by Tawny Weber
Marc heard heavy steps on the stairs. He had just enough time to push to his feet before Preach, Houston and Papa Smurf crowded the open doorway to his bedroom.
Seeing the trio in his house was no real surprise, all the instructors had his security code. It was just a house, a place to crash. But being caught was a big problem.
“We came to give you two a ride back to base,” Hugh said, looking over Marc’s shoulder at Tabitha. “Want us to take a hike?”
Marc knew what they thought. A half-dressed woman on his bed. One that shouldn’t even be there. That his men even knew where to find him said a lot.
“I’m going to get dressed.” Tabitha excused herself, getting off the bed and drawing the ends of the robe together. She squeezed her way past the men in the doorway.
Marc made no apologies and no excuses. It looked like what it looked like. He’d have to trust his men to keep this to themselves. SEALs lived by a code of silence. But he wondered if he’d fallen a notch in their estimation. And he worried about Tabitha’s reputation.
He deserved what he got. She didn’t deserve to be slandered—nothing had happened after all.
The men followed her downstairs. The initial tension was broken when Perry raided the refrigerator for soft drinks. The petty officer passed them around while they sat in the living room waiting for Tabitha.
“I’d do her,” Hugh finally said.
“I’d marry her,” Perry added.
“Don’t listen to either of those two boneheads, kid. That gal’s a whole lot of trouble.”
Though Marc didn’t appreciate any of the advice, he took it with the humor intended.
If his fist actually connected with Hugh’s jaw, it would seem as if he cared. If he denied wanting to marry her, the rumor would be he already had. And if he admitted she was trouble, they’d assume he had firsthand knowledge.
“Opinions noted, guys. End of discussion.”
1800 Friday
BACHELOR OFFICERS’ QUARTERS,
Coronado, CA
Searching in vain for her room key, Tabby realized too late that it had been in the pocket of her sweats and was probably in the bottom of Marc’s washer or dryer. If it hadn’t been for the untimely arrival of his men, she might have figured it out at the time.
As it was, all she could think about was how she’d jeopardized Marc’s career. Or had she? SEALs were a close-knit group. They watched out for each other.
Tabby descended the three flights of stairs, heading for the BOQ office. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d skipped lunch. Though starving when she got back to the office, the fax from Gromley was her first priority.
Most of the items from Miller’s service record were inconsequential. She learned nothing more about his family than he and Carol had already told her. In the end, she’d felt guilty for reading it, but reminded herself he’d read hers cover to cover.
She’d discovered Master Chief Thomas and the others had exaggerated about Marc’s almost burning down the SEAL barracks. He’d simply burned a hole in his blanket. But he’d been brought before Captain’s Mast for destruction of government property—her father, his Commanding Officer at the time, had fined him fifty dollars and restricted him to barracks for fifteen days.
The list of disciplinary actions went on and on, amounting to virtually nothing, until one serious infraction—an Unauthorized Absence at the end of his SEAL training. Her father’s notes were cryptic, alluding to family problems. Miller had received the loss of one month’s pay, restriction to barracks for thirty days, and reduction in rate, suspended for six months—which meant if he screwed up again within six months, he’d be busted.
What family problems could have made him go UA?
The disciplinary actions ended there. But the enlisted evaluation her father wrote at the end of SEAL training was less than glowing, most often citing his opinion that Miller was not a team player.
How’d he get from not a team player to being their leader? From what she’d observed over the past several weeks he still held himself back.
She reached the office and collected a spare room key.
“Good evening, Ms. Chapel.” Alan Ogden emerged from the main TV lounge.
“Hi, Alan.” He was staying in another wing of the building and occasionally she ran into him.
“I was wondering if maybe you weren’t busy this evening...”
Tabby scanned the lobby while her mind searched for an excuse. The Commander had forbidden fraternizing with SEALs while under his command. Okay, she’d already broken that rule, but it would still sound like a lame excuse. The man really had no control over her social life. She spotted Nydia at the wall of mailboxes and cast her friend a helpless look. “Oh, Alan—”
“Sorry, fella, we have plans.” Nydia draped her arm around Tabby.
“Another time then,” Alan said before backing away.
“Well, that was cruel.” Tabby turned to Nydia. “But thanks.”
Nydia shuffled through her mail. “To lead him on is cruel.”
“I don’t lead him on.”
“You don’t say no either. He’s a creep.”
“He’s harmless. All you did was put him off. Same as I do. He’ll ask again.” He was always asking.
“Are you grateful or not?”
“That depends. What are our plans? I could use a girls night out.”
“Haven’t a clue. I was hoping you’d take me to that bar where all those men with nice bods and nice cars hang out.”
“You mean Manny’s? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Please, please, please. You owe me big time. I got rid of your boyfriend, didn’t I?”
“Let me get changed, then we can grab a bite to eat before heading to Manny’s. I guarantee you’ll walk in and turn right back around.”
They didn’t. Nydia didn’t sit out one dance once Tabby had reluctantly introduced her to Hugh. The guy was a jerk; she didn’t know what her friend saw in him.
Tabby sat through all the dancing and bought her own drinks. No one even asked. She wondered how much that had to do with Miller. And how much it had to do with her invading the SEALs’ territory.
They’d been there for a couple of hours when Carol Bailey walked in, obviously looking for someone. Tabby waved her over to the booth. “I’ve been meaning to call you—”
Carol waved away her excuse. “I know, you’ve been busy.” She didn’t sit down, and she seemed distracted.
“Are you meeting Marc?” Tabby asked, still hopeful she’d bump into him tonight, yet dreading Carol’s answer at the same time.
“No, I’m trying to find Elaine Coffman, J.C.’s wife. Do you know her? She left a message on my phone, saying she’d be here. I’m trying to stop her from doing something foolish. There she is.” Carol spotted the woman coming out of the ladies’ room.
Elaine literally fell into the arms of a man that Tabby knew wasn’t J.C., the XO of Team One. Together the couple staggered their way toward the door.
Carol rushed over, with Tabby on her heels. She’d gotten to know quite a few of the SEALs in recent weeks. And occasionally, a curious wife would stop by to see her. Elaine had been one of those.
“Elaine!” Carol demanded the drunken woman’s attention. “I came to take you home.”
“She’s goin’ home wif me.” The drunken sailor at her side urged Elaine forward.
“I’m going home with, with, what’s your name?”
“You don’t want to do this,” Carol pleaded.
Elaine looked torn, but took a few faltering steps toward Carol. Seeing his prize slip away, the sailor lunged for the woman. With lightning reflexes, Tabby grabbed the man’s wrist and stepped between the two.
“Why don’t you go home and sleep it off, buddy?” But the guy decided the odds were in his favor and that even drunk he could take on one measly woman.
His mistake. Tabby let him have it right in the Adam’s apple, and he dropped to the floor at her feet. “Manny
, this drunk needs a taxi.” Tabby stepped over his still breathing body.
“Can you show me that move?” Carol asked.
“Sure.”
“I miss all the fun,” Nydia said, joining them.
Elaine started to sob. The three women ushered her out the door, deciding Carol would take Elaine, Tabby would drive Elaine’s car, and Nydia would follow in a convoy over to Elaine’s house.
They arrived at base housing ten minutes later.
“J.C. cheated on me,” Elaine sobbed, then hiccupped and staggered her way to the front door. “I want to get back at that bastard!” she screeched, setting the neighborhood dogs to barking. A porch light flicked on across the street, but they got her inside without further incident.
Carol put Elaine to bed and called Brad. “I don’t want to leave her alone tonight,” she explained to Tabby and Nydia when she hung up the phone. “She’s pretty shaken up. She found out J.C. didn’t come straight home from his last mission and kicked him out of the house. He’s over at our place.”
“I can stay, too.” Tabby volunteered.
“Me, too,” Nydia agreed. “Though I was having plenty of fun with that SEAL.”
“You mean Leighton?” Tabby asked. “Oh, please.”
“He was kind of obnoxious.” All three laughed.
“Remember the dye incident?”
“Wait, wait! I want details,” Carol said. “But first I’ll break out the ginger ale. And we can order a pizza.”
They settled around Elaine’s coffee table for girl talk, interrupted only by the arrival of two very large pizzas. They drank ginger ale out of wineglasses, toasted their sisterhood, proclaimed all men pond scum and ignored calories completely. Carol even scrounged a chocolate layer cake and chocolate ice cream for dessert.
Poor Elaine had been trying to eat away her pain with chocolate. Right now Tabby needed it more. Her reputation was probably being maligned this very minute over a round of beer at Manny’s.
They were talking about favorite movie couples when Carol said, “I think you and Marc make a great couple. I know you’ve said he’s not your type...”
Tabby almost gagged.
A couple? What would it cost her? What would it cost him? She stuck the spoon in the ice cream carton the three of them were eating from. Her appetite was gone.
“What time is it?” Tabby asked, looking at her watch at the same time. 2245. “I have to go.”
2302 Friday
NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE CENTER,
Coronado, CA
Grape-flavored Tootsie Pop in his mouth, Marc reached for the telephone, then stopped himself. Not tonight. He’d already done enough damage.
Kyle knocked on the open door. “I thought I’d find you here. Can I come in?”
Marc nodded to his Executive Officer, and second in command. He’d been expecting something like this. Kyle sat on the desk, unable to make direct eye contact.
Marc kept his seat and looked directly at the man. After a long wait in which nothing was being said, he removed the sucker. “What’s on your mind, Harm?”
Harm took a deep breath. “The guys wanted me to talk to you about this afternoon...”
“I’ve got the situation under control.” He tossed the sucker to the trash and scrubbed a hand over his well-past-five-o’clock shadow. “I’m removing myself from the picture. Team One has a training exercise coming up; I’ve arranged to go with them. Lieutenant Chapel is only here for another week. Until then she can be your responsibility.”
“Great.” Kyle tried to muster some enthusiasm for the baby-sitting duties just assigned him. “But I think it’s probably for the best.” Kyle visibly relaxed. “Feel like a beer?” he asked. “I’m headed to Manny’s.”
The men were right to call him on his liaison with Lieutenant Chapel. Normally it was his job to worry about them. But he admired loyalty. It was right up there with honesty in his book. And integrity. He seemed to be the only one lacking those recently. “I thought I’d finish up here, then head home.”
“Okay.” Kyle turned to leave.
The XO had been here a month, but Marc had never really gotten to know him. If the men chose him for this, they must respect him. He had a sudden urge for Manny’s.
“Hold up,” Marc said, pushing to his feet and following Kyle out the door. “I think I’ll have that beer. And you can tell me how the doctor removed that toilet seat from your Iowa-born-and-bred derrière.”
Chapter 15
1730 Monday
NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE CENTER
Coronado, CA
Tabby gave up writing actual sentences and began doodling on the legal pad in front of her. It was time to call it a day anyway.
The morning had been fairly busy with an unexpected stream of SEALs interrupting her work to hand in completed workbooks for a course on sexual harassment in the workplace. Miller had designated her office as the drop-off point.
Perry even brought her an apple. An apple for the teacher? A teacher who had a lot to learn about appropriate and inappropriate behavior with her boss.
But not one SEAL had said a word about her indiscretion with Miller.
She’d scribbled the lead tip of the pencil down to nothing. And had a page full of nothing to show for it as well. She kept thinking about Miller’s proposed tryst at the Hotel del Coronado. You lead, and I’ll follow.... Where did she want this to go? Was the invitation still open?
“Tiger?” Marc knocked on the door frame, startling her. “I’m picking you up at 1815, your room. Wear something comfortable.”
And then he was gone.
She moved to the doorway. She was surprised to hear him call her by the nickname, but she tried not to read too much into it. The man hadn’t called her once over the weekend, and she’d only seen him in passing today.
Puzzled, she called after him, “Is this a date?”
“I don’t date women in my command.” There was definitely a seriousness in his voice.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
1815 Monday
CORONADO NAVAL AMPHIBIOUS BASE,
Coronado, CA
Miller drove across base in silence. As he’d requested, she’d dressed comfortably in blue jeans and a yellow sweater. He hadn’t changed from the uniform of the day.
When he pulled up in front of the base recreation center, she still didn’t have a clue as to why they were there.
“This way.” He ushered her to a room with a mat-covered floor. It was clearly meant for sparring, although curiously there were also rows of chairs facing a blackboard classroom style.
She took the chair he indicated, and the room filled up behind them. Women of various ages, shapes and sizes greeted him by name. All wore sweats, making her feel overdressed.
Well, this definitely wasn’t a date.
An elderly woman sat beside her “Is this your first time?” The woman reached out and patted her hand.
Tabby nodded. Her first time at what, she didn’t know.
Marc stood at the head of the class. He turned the freestanding blackboard over and she read the words: Self-defense for women. Six-thirty to eight, Mondays.
He pulled a sheet of paper from his back pocket and began copying it. A Rape Victim’s Rights. He underlined the words. As he wrote, he lectured. The women around her took copious notes. Tabby listened to the empowering message. Strong words from a strong man.
Anticipation amplified around her when Marc donned a Redman suit made of padded neoprene, followed by a helmet and face mask. Tabby sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for whatever was coming.
Some of the women seemed excited, some apprehensive. But they all took their turn beating the crap out of him. While the women hit and kicked and clawed, they screamed at the top of their lungs one word. “No!”
While everyone clapped for the seventy-year-old grandmother of ten and great-grandmother of three, Marc removed his helmet and offered the woman a hand up and sai
d, “Nice job.” Sweat trickled from his hair and he swiped at it with a padded arm.
His gaze shifted from the older woman to Tabby. He curled his finger. Tabby looked around and realized he wanted her.
“I brought a friend for a martial arts demonstration. So you can see what this might look like without the pads. She may need a little encouragement though. Lieutenant Chapel...” He held out his hand.
More applause filled the rec room. She’d look churlish, and Miller foolish, if she didn’t cooperate. She unlaced her boots and took them off at the mattress.
He peeled out of his gear. “Hit me with your best shot.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“It’s one way to work out our frustrations. I wish I’d come up with it sooner. It would have saved me a lot of cold showers.”
She blushed at the thought. “I’m not going to work out anything except my muscles sparring with you.” Though she always felt better mentally after working out, she didn’t think she’d find it an adequate substitute for having sex with this man.
“Wanna bet?” He tripped her, sending her sprawling to the mat on her backside.
“You—” Her moves were tentative at first, but as he became more aggressive, she fought back hard.
She kicked. He blocked. She kicked again. He came back for more, and she tripped his feet out from under him.
He bounced back, and she caught him with a roundhouse kick to the ribs. He dropped to one knee. And the women all cheered.
“Marc?” She raced to his side, offering him her hand.
“I’m okay.” He let her help him up. “Was I right about the frustration?”
She laughed and hugged him tight, burying her face in his neck. She heard the sharp intake of his breath as she squeezed and pulled back. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” He smiled. “Hug me again.”
But the other women claimed his attention and Tabby contented herself with waiting. She could afford to be generous, she decided. Just so long as none of those grandmothers decided he was available.