SEAL Firsts

by Sharon Hamilton

  She sat snuggled in his lap, running her fingers over his chest, memorizing every bulging muscle, the size and feel of his nipples, the way his Adam’s apple moved when he talked or swallowed, the size of his full lower lip that she traced with her index finger. He covered her mouth with his, then drew back and held her face in his palms.

  “You are so…” he started. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “Same here. I’ve never had so much fun in my kitchen before, either. You do this sort of thing often?” She could show her thick skin too.

  She got an angry glare back.

  “Are you going to walk away from this? Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you to stay?” She had looked down at his chest as she’d asked the question, but he continued to hold her head between his hands and made her look at him.

  He searched her eyes, and for a second she thought perhaps he would say something else, something she would like, but then again the control came back and his eyes died right along with her heart. It was no use. He dropped his hands and sighed.

  “I said some things last night I shouldn’t have.”

  “No,” she said, turning her head from side to side, rubbing her forehead against his jaw. “No. Don’t you dare say that. Not now.” Tears began to form. Hot tears.

  “I have no right to—”

  “That’s for damn sure. You have no damned right to come waltzing in, saying things you don’t mean so you can get into my bed. Or in this case, on my kitchen counter.”

  It felt exhilarating to let the anger spread. It was stuffy in her condo.

  He got up abruptly and fastened the top of his pants, leaving her disheveled, and her robe gaping. She quickly covered her body and wiped her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see her tears.

  “I’m going to clean up the mess in the kitchen,” he said. He looked like he was ten years old and had just broken his mother’s cookie jar.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Who the hell are you? One minute I see glimpses of a man I could love, and the next, a cold, calculating—” She teared up again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Leave. Just go.”

  It hurt to say it, but her pride and what was left of her self-esteem was at stake. Better if she sent him off.

  “Christy. I really enjoyed our time together.”

  “But not enough to stay.”

  “There’s no future here,” he said, tapping his chest with his tattooed forearm, the one with the little three legged creature prints. He squinted his eyes.

  “Guess not. Maybe someday when I’m not naked and just been given the goodbye fuck you could tell me what you meant to say but didn’t.”

  “I can’t promise that. I’m afraid this is all we have. I’m sorry.”

  “Will you stop saying you’re sorry? I would have preferred, ‘I can’t,’ before you screwed me.”

  He turned and walked out of her life.

  She was in shock. She could still smell him in the air, on her skin. She could still feel the touch of his fingers and his thumbs as he’d played her, as he’d snagged her heart and then ripped it right out of her chest.

  Chapter 12

  Kyle spent the morning gathering equipment. He put things together to make small IEDs, bought and borrowed ammo, and purchased thin razor wire. He ran into Cooper, who was stocking up his medic kit. The tall SEAL held up a plastic tube.

  “You wanna know what we use these for in Nebraska?”

  Kyle had no idea. He welcomed any conversation as a distraction from the hollow cavern in his chest.

  “Mom said her dad, when he got older, wouldn’t want to come into the house when he had to pee if he was way down plowing his fields. Used to keep one o’ these tucked into the brim of his hat.”

  Kyle wasn’t sure where this was going. But he knew he was going to wince.

  “Granddad’s solution was to shove this thing up his unit and he’d spew like Yellowstone. Became the only way he could pee during the day.”

  Kyle frowned, worried his friend was perhaps on a bender. And Coop didn’t do benders anymore.

  “Not very sanitary, and it would hurt like hell,” Kyle finally said. “Something wrong with just whipping it out and peeing on the ground? He enjoy the pain and irritation it must have caused?”

  Cooper shrugged. “Damn straight. Exactly what I thought. Mom said he was always on penicillin. I think he had a low-level bladder infection and had to pee constantly. Happened all during my younger years until he died. All those farmers did in those days. They didn’t go to a doctor, they went to their vet.”

  Kyle shook his head.

  “And here I am, using these as chest compression tubes. The very same stuff. Goes to show how some things change and some things stay the same.”

  Cooper wandered off down the aisle, in search of something else. Kyle was in awe of how the farm boy knew so much about mechanical things, both gas-fired and human. Cooper just knew how things worked in every sense of the word.

  All machinery.

  And Kyle knew Cooper was probably an expert with the ladies, due to all this knowledge of working parts.

  Then Kyle remembered about Christy. He got hard in spite of himself.

  Damn. He felt bad about how he had treated her. But it had to be done. And she’d made it easy on him. She’d asked him to leave. He wasn’t half sure he would have if she hadn’t insisted on it.

  But what a way to break it off. Fuck her on the countertop amongst the dishes.

  You are a goddamned dog. That’s all there is to it. You’re the same man as your father. Add a little alcohol, and hell, you are as mean and uncaring as your father. He was glad she got away. He didn’t want to make a woman as miserable as his father had made his mother.

  He called Timmons, who had no news. The chief was near hysterical.

  “You better get me something quick. I’m starting to smell here in this office. Hard to cover up shit like this.”

  “Copy that. Armando was alive yesterday, that’s all we know. Coop has a friend at DOJ, off the record. He already found out Armando’s cell is whacked. Gonna see if AT&T can give us the location of his last call. But I doubt it will be helpful. Too old now.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “But Timmons, we got Mia’s cell. I think I’ll have the locator on it today. Armando left a message on his answering machine yesterday afternoon from that number. Told us we’ve got three or four days. I’m thinking three.”

  “Damn it all. I’m going to go talk to my liaison with the local PD. Maybe they can help.”

  “Good idea. You can pull rank, and remind them to play nice.”

  “Well, they won’t play so nice if this caper doesn’t get solved right away.”

  “Roger that. Doing the best I can, under the circumstances. Not like we can break down doors and start laying traps.”

  “Fucking A. You need anything?” Timmons asked.

  “A miracle.”

  Cooper and Fredo were waiting for him at the Scupper. Gunny was on his way from the gym.

  “Timmons is going to ask for some backup for us.” Kyle’s stare drilled a hole right through their heads. “We need to get this done before any of the locals catch wind of this.”

  The hard look he got back from Fredo and Coop told him they got the message. Their ability to move unfettered would be greatly curtailed if they had to ask for permission and wait for jurisdictional etiquette. It would be a cluster fuck, and might cost Armando his life.

  Fredo swore, but Cooper just looked back at him, chewing on a toothpick like one of his family’s Herefords in Nebraska chewing on a strand of hay. The farm boy took a slip of paper out of his vest pocket and pushed it with his long fingers across the greasy table with a squeaking sound. “Here’s the address. That cell phone has been there two days now. The friendlies at DOJ are watching it for us.”

  “Thanks, Coop.”

  “My guy said someone’s been nursing the battery. Turning it off and on. Tr
ying to make it last and sending out a signal every few hours.”

  “That’s got to be Armando.”

  “That’s what I told him.”

  “Think your Babemobile is ready for a little undercover work?” Kyle dropped this bomb on Cooper, but again, the farm boy didn’t flinch. Cooper lived in the converted and customized motor home at the ocean, but they’d never used it for a domestic mission like this one. Built to look just like an old fisherman’s motor home, Coop had installed state-of-the-art surveillance equipment so he could monitor the whole area. It also contained arms stored in hidden compartments, and half a dozen drones he’d picked up overseas on the black market.

  Cooper kept the beast clean and stocked with fresh flowers nearly every day. He’d told Kyle that he never knew when his walks on the beach would produce a young lady willing to share his bed for the evening. He didn’t have far to go, so when the urge overtook them, he had a pleasure palace outfitted with candles, music, and clean scented sheets, not to mention the flowers, which the girls always loved. It sure was a damn sight cheaper than a motel room. Kyle halfway admired the boy for his frugality, which was legendary among the Teams.

  “She’s ready, boss.”

  Fredo chuckled and finished his beer. “I sure hope you changed the sheets…”

  “I’m not sleeping with you, Mr. Beans-And-Tortillas-For-Breakfast-Lunch-And-Dinner.” Cooper gave Fredo a twisted grin. “Besides,” he said, showing off his straight, oversized white teeth that obviously had cost his parents a small fortune, “I’d rather smell the sheets than your sorry little ass. Little Miss Saturday Night likes Chanel No. 5, and it’s growing on me.”

  Kyle watched as Fredo gave Coop a punch in the arm that almost sent the giant sprawling to the floor.

  “Okay, gents. Showtime.” Kyle was impatient to begin.

  All three got up. Cooper dumped the last of his fries and some packets of sugar and salt into a napkin and wadded the top closed. He never left a morsel on his plate, or anyone else’s either.

  “Supplies,” Coop said to Fredo’s frown.

  Kyle felt like two people who inhabited the same body. One side heard and was entertained by the shit talk between two best friends who were closer than blood brothers. His other side was worried about what would happen at Christy’s condo while they were off during surveillance. And he couldn’t deny the fantasy of slipping his long frame against her warm supple backside and riding her all night long.

  Be safe, Christy. Be smart. Don’t want to lose you.

  He wished he could be the last thing she saw at night and the first thing she saw in the morning, for however long he was given the opportunity.

  What am I doing? Wake up, sailor.

  They found Cooper’s wheels in the parking lot adjacent to the beach, amid trucks and vans loaded with surfboards and marine toys. The Navy gave the farm boy a sizeable housing allowance since he did what most of the Team guys did, choosing not to live on base except for specialized trainings. Instead of procuring an expensive apartment, he’d bought the smoking ten-year-old toy hauler, and chose to get around town on a bright red scooter he kept well secured in the rollup compartment at the rear. What would have been a problem to tinker with and maintain for the average guy was hardly a challenge for Coop, who spent most of his youth on his back fixing his father’s tractors and trucks.

  When Kyle followed Cooper’s bony ass up the metal pull-down steps to the motor home, he noticed a new hand-painted sign to the right of the small front door curtain window: “Mi Casa Es Su Casa.” Kyle chuckled and thumped the tiny daisy drawn below it on the painted aluminum frame. It was someone’s calling card. From the style and lettering, Kyle recognized it as being done by Daisy, the buxom blonde from one of the tattoo parlors they frequented.

  Son of a bitch. He’s nailing her.

  Sometimes Coop just outdid himself. Every Team guy who was single and half the married ones were trying to get into that young lady’s pants. Leave it to Coop.

  The small space did smell flowery. Fredo was swearing and holding his nose.

  “Lose the air freshener, man. It’s just gross, man.”

  “After an hour it’ll smell like your pits, and then I’ll have to wear a mask.”

  Kyle had to admit, the smell was a little obnoxious. “I can’t believe they actually like it this way. You better open some windows or we’re gonna pass out,” he said.

  Cooper opened a window over the kitchen sink. “That’s all I’m doing, since it takes a boatload of gas to run the heater.”

  Fredo tossed the bouquet of flowers out onto the parking lot, then poured the remaining water on top.

  “Hey, you owe me five bucks for those, Fredo,” Cooper lashed out, grabbing back the vase.

  “Got hay fever. Don’t you ever listen? Asthma too. I wind up at the ER and you’re gonna pay for it.”

  Kyle knew it wasn’t true. No way the Navy would have cleared him for SEAL duty with asthma or a severe case of hay fever. Every cell of Fredo’s body had been inspected and none had been found lacking.

  Except for maybe some of his brain cells.

  Cooper crawled over the dinette seat and inserted himself into the driver’s console. The passenger seat door was wired shut, so Kyle followed Cooper’s ass and dumped his bones into the passenger seat next to his teammate. Stuck to the dash were glued plastic dinosaurs and some of his favorite childhood toys like Skeletor, He-Man, and Conan.

  The Babemobile spewed smoke out the back and coughed a few times before reaching a safe cruising speed of twenty-five miles an hour. By the time they got to Gunny’s, a trail of more than a dozen cars were backed up behind. When they pulled up to the curb, Cooper got honked at and was given a generous serving of one-finger salutes.

  Cooper looked as if he hadn’t paid attention, but Kyle knew better.

  Gunny was at his front door, locking up early.

  “You ready to ride, Gunny?” Kyle said through the open window.

  “You bet. Halfway thought you guys’d leave me behind.”

  “Nope. Need a chaperone for these two.” Kyle tilted his head back as Gunny climbed aboard.

  Gunny sat at the built-in dinette table with Fredo while Cooper punched the address into the GPS unit, then turned over the motor, which was reluctant to start. The machine backfired, sending two Team guys on the street horizontal on the sidewalk. With a slow rumble and another backfire, the beast took off on its secret military mission, the sun just setting in an orange puddle on the inlet.

  They drove up the coast for nearly half an hour, heading north, and then turned inland.

  Kyle got his sat phone out of the black duty bag he’d brought, along with his night vision goggles and other equipment. “Reception here is terrible, but I got it boosted.” He showed the wire antennae running down the inside of his jacket. “The computer will track everything too.” He pointed to the MAC plugged into the center console.

  Coop was focused on driving, but nodded to the roadway, which had grown twisty. They were headed into small foothills.

  “Coop, you’re gonna have to talk to your friend when we get there.”

  Kyle got more nods.

  Fredo looked worried. “So, Kyle, what are they looking for?”

  “I’m thinking guns. Guns they can’t buy on the street.”

  “But why take the girl?”

  “I don’t think they wanted her. I think they want something from Armando.”

  “Can’t believe he’d let himself get caught like that.”

  “I think his sister told them about Armando. She’s less than discreet. I’m being kind,” Kyle said.

  “Kid’s had it rough, from what I hear,” said Fredo. “Raped at fourteen. The dude woulda died, too, if the cops hadn’t gotten there in time and stopped Mama Guzman. That woman’s a pistol.”

  Cooper laughed. “Well, no wonder you’re scared shitless about asking Mia out to dinner, Fredo.”

  “I never said that,” Fredo’s defensive tone
gave him away. Kyle hadn’t noticed this little soap opera. Knowing Fredo, the athletic SEAL had a personal reason to protect her from the lowlifes she’d been hanging around with. That would be like him. But only if her mama approved.

  They drove for another few minutes in silence. Kyle thought out loud. “I think Armando didn’t expect to meet anyone but Mia. Otherwise, he would have been more prepared.” It was the only thing that did make sense in this scenario.

  “Except that he didn’t check in with you or Timmons at ProDev,” Cooper yelled over the noise of the engine.

  “Exactly. He knew I’d go look for him if he disappeared.”

  “I don’t like it. Going after civilians,” Fredo said.

  “Don’t have to. We can let you out right here, if you want. You’re either in or out.”

  “No. I’m in. I just don’t like it.”

  “They’re dangerous, bad people,” said Kyle. “They kidnap and terrorize innocents like some of the guys we saw overseas, except these guys do it for the money. No religious morals here.”

  Fredo nodded his head. “Yeah, and they expect to live about as long as the sand rebels do.”

  “Without the glory,” Kyle added.

  “Or the virgins.” Cooper turned and grinned at them.

  Kyle was thinking about Mia and what her mother had told him. Pregnant with the bad guy’s baby. That made it more complicated. He hoped none of his Team would have to sacrifice their lives or sustain major injuries just to save Caesar’s offspring.

  What a fucked up twist of fate that would be.

  The motor droned on with mind-numbing vibrations. Kyle lost track of time. They turned off the main road and onto a dirt trail that wound through a dense, unmarred forest of small saplings. A young branch slapped the side of the aluminum shell, sounding like a gunshot, sending all of them but Coop to their feet. Cooper allowed the beast to idle in a crawl. The hauler snaked through the foliage, which grew sparser.

  Kyle leaned back and stared at the ceiling. It had gotten dark outside. He’d been lulled to near sleep by the bouncing and rocking of the clumsy vehicle.