Wet N Wild Navy SEALs

by Tawny Weber

  He didn’t want her to save the world or even him. That was his job. It was sexist of him, but he wanted her safe at home taking care of their family—what family? He’d made sure there would never be a family. He’d even told her adoption wasn’t a possibility.

  Damn her for making him want her and so much more than he could ever have—and for throwing him a bone with the Page Two entry.

  If they were really married, why had she sent him a postcard instead of returning his call? He ripped the card in half and tossed it to the trash.

  1000 Friday

  SEAL BARRACKS

  Coronado, CA

  Tabby packed, limping from locker to duffel bag and back again. The sprained ankle she’d received while at Fort Bragg for three weeks of paratrooper school with the Green Berets barely bothered her anymore, but she carefully kept her weight off it. She’d spent the weekend healing. And sulking.

  Everyone else in her training group had been assigned to one of the teams where they’d still have to complete six months’ probation before earning their Trident.

  Marc had warned her. What had she expected? For him to at least try to get her an assignment. Now it looked as if she was headed back to D.C. The only offer she’d had was from a friend with the CIA who was so impressed with her SEAL training that he’d called and offered her a deep cover position. It meant she would have to resign her commission—lose her identity in the name of espionage.

  At the moment, that didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  1900 Friday

  BACHELOR OFFICERS’ QUARTERS

  Coronado, CA

  “He’s holding up my assignment to a team.” Tabby said. Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, she held up the black dress she’d worn to the Pecks’ party and a red one she’d bought earlier that day.

  “I still like the black one better,” Carol said, lounging on Tabby’s rack among the remnants of their shopping spree. “I don’t think Marc would do that on purpose.”

  “Umm.” Tabby fingered the black dress. Too many memories. She hung it back in the closet. The red one followed. “I’m just going to wear my uniform. Of course it’s on purpose,” she said, taking her tuxedo shirt out of the dry cleaning bag.

  “I wish Brad and I were going.”

  “Why don’t you? I bet you could still get tickets at the door.” Tabby put on the shirt followed by the floor-length navy blue skirt.

  “Are you kidding?” Carol said, rubbing a hand across her extended belly. “What would I wear? My feet are too swollen for dancing anyway. I can’t believe I still have three weeks to go. I’m ready to burst.”

  “Brad taking any leave?” Tabby wrapped the cummerbund around her waist, then slipped into the short white dinner jacket.

  “Starting next week. A whole month. He promised me he wouldn’t miss the birth because of a mission.” Carol struggled to her feet. “Very elegant. Let me help you with your bow tie. I do Brad’s all the time.”

  Tabby stood still while Carol tied the bow.

  “You should have let Marc escort you.”

  Tabby snorted. “We’d look like a pair of book-ends. Besides, the less time I spend in his company the better.”

  “Why would you say that?” Carol stood back, admiring her handiwork.

  “We should have never gotten married. He’s never believed in me.”

  “The first year is always the hardest. But Brad and I worked things out.”

  Tabby pushed aside the fleeting thought that this was her six-month wedding anniversary. Turning to the dresser, she rummaged for her ribbons and pinned them on. Then she buttoned on her gold epaulets. “I’m not willing to compromise. He has to accept the fact that I’m a Navy SEAL or else we’ll never work things out.”

  1930 Friday

  MANNY’S DIVE

  Coronado, CA

  A typical Friday night at Manny’s. And aside from the fact that it was October 13, his six-month wedding anniversary, and he was sitting across the table from Brad instead of his bride, Marc had nothing to complain about.

  After returning from paratrooper training, Tabitha had moved out of the barracks and into the BOQ. Not a good sign, considering he could count the times he’d slept with his wife on one hand.

  Their only recent contact had been her request for a team assignment. This wasn’t just about what might happen to her in the field. Each was trying to out-stubborn the other.

  So he was going to do the right thing and give in.

  Except he was still a man who didn’t want a Navy SEAL for a wife, so he also had divorce papers ready. He’d give her what she wanted most—the freedom to make her own mistakes.

  “Carol met Tabby this afternoon,” Brad said, making conversation. “They went shopping. Carol’s maxed out all our credit cards on baby stuff. She calls it nesting. She even made me read a book on the subject. Because how could I get mad at her when a book says it’s normal?” Brad shook his head. “I swear if this nesting phase lasts much longer, I’ll be broke. And all she wants to talk about is breastfeeding.”

  “That’s all you talk about these days.”

  “Well, if I was a kid I’d want a breast,” Brad reasoned. “Then I think about sharing, you know, and I don’t like the idea so much. But lately she’s not interested in, you know, that, either. I just wish she’d have the baby so we can get back to a normal sex life.” Brad averted his gaze, avoiding Marc’s. “Sorry. Guess you’d rather not talk about married life.”

  “Not really,” Marc admitted, shifting in his seat, the hard surface growing increasingly uncomfortable. “But I did bring you here for a reason.”

  “Don’t tell me. You want Team One to take on Tabby.”

  Chapter 26

  2100 Friday:

  The Navy Ball OFFICERS CLUB

  Coronado, CA

  “Your ticket, Commander?”

  “I’m a gate-crasher,” Marc said, tossing a couple of twenties at the petty officer and walking through the double doors at the entrance of Neptune’s Ballroom.

  With purpose he searched the fairy-tale setting. He had no idea what she wore, but assumed something short, black and showing a lot of leg.

  He spied her in full dress uniform, standing among a group of officers on the patio. He paused for a moment just to watch her laughing with her friends.

  She caught him staring and her laughter faded to a hesitant smile and a cautious nod. He strode toward her with single-minded intent.

  “Lieutenant. May I speak with you in private?”

  “Certainly, Commander.”

  It was time to make her choose—him or the SEALs.

  He’d walk out of here with his wife. Or she’d walk out of here a free woman. Free to be the SEAL she longed to be. He couldn’t handle it if anything happened to her in the line of duty. And he’d be damned if he would live his life worrying that something would.

  She followed him to a secluded alcove containing a bench and potted plants. It reminded him of their night at Captain Peck’s. “May I have this dance?” She must have taken pity on him because she put her hand in his.

  Tabby’s skin tingled where they touched. She loved dancing with Marc. Did it mean he was taking the step toward reconciliation that she so desperately wanted?

  They danced, not one song, not three, but until she lost count and the last note died away. When they stopped, he let go, though she longed for him to keep holding her.

  “I believe the last time we danced you mentioned my pinning you.” His voice was strained, and she knew what it cost him to say those words.

  She felt as if she was back in high school, talking about pinning and promise rings. She absently touched her naked finger, wanting that ring just as badly as the Trident. She forced herself to let out the breath she was holding and then take in another.

  “On behalf of the elite, I’d like to recognize you as the first woman among the ranks of Navy SEALs.” He removed his Trident and pinned it above her breast, close to her heart where she
’d wear it forever.

  He executed a salute. “Bravo Zulu, Lieutenant Tabitha Lilith Chapel-Prince. Well done.”

  “You gave me your Trident.” Tears threatened and she didn’t try to hold them back. Let ’em fall. This was the happiest moment of her life.

  “It’ll mean more to me to have yours.”

  The lump in her throat was too large to swallow. It would be totally inappropriate to throw herself in his arms, but they were married. She’d even had the entry officially recorded. She opened her mouth to tell him and he surprised her into silence.

  He pulled a pager from beneath his cummerbund. “You’ve been assigned Team One. Echo squad leader. I believe Gummy and Armstrong are part of your crew. Your time is no longer your own, Lieutenant. You’re on twenty-four-hour call to your team and its mission.”

  She reached out to take the pager from him, but he held it back. “I’ve tagged you TIGER I. You have a locker full of equipment at Team One headquarters.” He showed her the label on the pager, then gave it to her. “Don’t let the men cocoon around you if you get hurt. Stats from Allied services show men will spend more time with an injured female soldier. It just makes for a bigger target. The team medic, or the guy closest to you is responsible for taking care of your injuries. They’ll get help if they need it. Take care of yourself, Tabitha. I’d be happy to take over that duty any time you want me to...”

  Tabby couldn’t believe it. He was saying goodbye. So much for the happiest day of her life.

  “I just can’t do this. I can’t worry about your every move... Here are your walking papers, Lieutenant.”

  Tabby saved the tears for her room. But she didn’t have much time for them, because shortly before dawn her pager went off. She reached the hangar bay before she let herself pick up the phone.

  She got Marc’s answering machine and waited impatiently for the end of his message, looking over her shoulder as equipment was being loaded onto the helicopter.

  “Pick up, Marc. Pick up.”

  “You got five!” Brad warned.

  She wasn’t the only one on her team making a last-minute phone call. But she didn’t want to miss her ride.

  Eventually, the stupid machine beeped. “Pick up if you’re there, Marc. I’m not going to accept those divorce papers. I love you. I want you—I choose you. But give me a reason why I can’t have both!”

  She put down the phone and walked toward the life she’d always wanted to lead.

  Chapter 27

  1909 Wednesday

  ON-BASE FAMILY HOUSING

  Coronado, CA

  Marc spent days playing back that message. He’d been home. He’d even been tempted to pick up. But he hadn’t. Because as soon as he’d heard the pain in her voice he had realized how cruel—to both of them—he’d been to make her choose.

  He’d never told her he loved her. And five days later, he understood that he would always worry about her, whether they were married or not.

  When he couldn’t stand to be alone for another minute, he sought out Carol.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Carol said, opening the door. Her protruding stomach greeted him first.

  “Can I come in?” Marc was a little uncomfortable. He made it a point not to visit while Brad was gone.

  “Sure,” she said, stepping aside. “Excuse the mess. I can’t see below my stomach anymore. So I never know what I miss with the vacuum.”

  The house was immaculate as always. She ushered him into the kitchen. A bowl of melting ice cream sat on the table.

  “No pickles?” he teased.

  “Care to join me?” she asked, already fishing out another bowl and spoon.

  Marc went to the freezer to grab a container of ice cream. “You have any of those sprinkles?” he asked, searching the cupboards.

  She found a bottle and they settled in at the kitchen table, neither saying anything for a long time.

  “We haven’t done this in a while,” Carol said finally.

  “I’m not sure Brad would like me meeting his wife while he’s gone.”

  “Why not? Brad trusts you, Marc. I trust you. Does Tabby mind?”

  Marc frowned. The truth was he didn’t know. Maybe he should have thought about it before coming over. Not that it mattered. He’d signed the divorce papers before handing them to her. He stirred the melting ice cream in his bowl, mixing it with the colored sprinkles.

  “I made Tabby choose between me and the SEALs.” He let the spoon rest on the side of the bowl.

  Carol smiled at him. He didn’t see any reason for her to smile. He’d come looking for sympathy from someone who might understand what he was going through.

  “Brad and I have those kinds of fights all the time. Almost every time he leaves.”

  She made it sound so easy. But it couldn’t be normal to miss Tabby this much while, at the same time, being so angry he never wanted her back.

  “I have a Navy Wife handbook if that would help,” she offered with a wry laugh.

  He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  “I borrowed it from a ship’s wives club. Actually, I’m going to put together a similar booklet for SEAL wives. I’ll be sure to use nongender-specific language. So you husbands don’t feel left out.”

  “I’m the only husband, Carol.”

  “You never know. Word gets out Tabby made it—”

  “Congress hasn’t made that determination yet. Tabitha’s not even an official SEAL. Besides, she’s one in a million...” His sentence trailed off.

  “It’s okay to miss her, Marc.” Carol covered his hand with her own.

  “What went wrong with us? I mean, besides the baby thing. I’m not trying to...” He didn’t want her getting the wrong impression. “I just don’t want to make the same mistake with Tabitha.”

  “What went wrong with us is that I’m not Tabby. I was just a habit. We weren’t really in love. Once I met Brad I understood that. If Tabby had just been a D.C. desk jockey, would you have given her a second look?”

  He’d never really thought about it that way before. The things he liked best about her scared him most.

  “Marc!”

  “I don’t have an answer—”

  “No, Marc, my water. It just broke.”

  He stared at her blankly. “Water?”

  “The baby’s coming!”

  2400 Wednesday

  LOCATION CLASSIFIED

  There was a first time for everything. Black fatigues blended into the dark hallways of a powerless building. Night vision goggles guided movements. Tabby stepped carefully and quietly on the tile floor of the apartment building, leading the six-man, one- woman Echo Squad on a prowl and growl—SEAL slang for kick ass and take names.

  A balaclava covered her head and a bulletproof vest covered her chest, making it impossible for anyone—even her team—to see she was a woman.

  H&K at the ready, she pushed aside her constant thoughts of Marc to concentrate on a game that wasn’t a game. Three members of the squad were still designated BUD/S until they’d completed six months of real missions. Their job was to provide backup for the more experienced men of Brad’s Alpha Squad.

  Tabby nodded to Armstrong, indicating that he should move to the right side of the door frame. Her weapon pointed up and right, Armstrong’s down and left, she counted to three and kicked in the door. It gave easily. Alpha had already done a top-to-bottom sweep of the building. Double checking was more or less just a little on-the-job training.

  But nothing, not even twenty-five weeks of training had prepared her for the carnage in this building. It was hard to believe that people had recently lived here. Windows were blown out. Walls were gone.

  On the basement level, there was a little more sanity. Fewer residential apartments. Storage. Generators. More places to look, but thankfully less to see. She and Armstrong coordinated their movements as they entered a storage room while two other squad members did the same across the hall. The remaining three men covered them
in the passageway.

  Her transmitter sounded. “Four, clear,” Gummy said from the room across the hall.

  About to voice an “all clear”—indicating the room and building were secure—Tabby heard something. She nodded to Armstrong. He shook his head. He didn’t hear it. Switching her night vision goggles to infrared, she searched for hot spots. At first all she saw were rats scurrying across the floor, but then she found another, larger blot.

  Armstrong indicated he saw it, too. Tabby went to investigate while he guarded their backs. Moving around upturned boxes, she was startled to discover a woman’s body. It was clear that the woman had dragged herself into the room in a desperate attempt to survive.

  Tabby checked for a pulse. Nothing. She’d died in her hiding place.

  But the sound Tabby had heard persisted. She gently pushed aside the woman and the boxes, opened a steamer trunk and found the treasure the woman had been hiding.

  Her child.

  A little boy, maybe three years old, tried to hold back his tears.

  “Navy SEALs. We’re here to help,” Tabby announced. Though he probably wouldn’t understand her, she hoped her intent was clear.

  “American?” he asked in accented English.

  “Yes,” she said with a smile.

  “What’s the holdup, Echo leader?” Brad asked through the transmitter. There was static, then he yelled, “Get out! Incoming.”

  “Go!” Tabby ordered her men as the first blast shook the building. Responsible for her squad, she counted heads as the men ran past. When they were all accounted for she grabbed the now screaming child and took up a position at the rear.

  The exit remained clear, but an armored tank was approaching, strafing the building with fire. Alpha Squad provided cover while Echo hustled out the door and around the corner. Tabby cradled the frightened child as she ran. Brad was behind her when she heard the whistle of an incoming round.

  “Cover!” Brad shouted, slamming her to the ground.