“Good. Now open your legs a little. Bend your knees.”
Oh Lord. His soft voice sent delicious tingles up her spine. When his knees pressed into the back of hers, she closed her eyes.
“See that tree over there?” he asked.
Her eyes flew open. Focus. She had a loaded weapon in her hands. “Yes.”
“Aim at it. Don’t think about the rifle, pretend that it is just an extension of your arm. I’m going to step back now. Hold steady. Take a deep breath and let it out halfway, and then hold it. Pull the trigger.”
She did as she was told. Nothing happened. She lowered the rifle and looked at Mack. “Something’s wrong with this thing.”
“See? She aimed too low. The guided trigger kept her from shooting. This way she saved her ammo and didn’t shoot wildly. Keeps the shooter from hitting her own foot,” Charlie said.
“Or one of us,” Willy said.
“Thank God for the safety feature. I’m a bigger target than the rest of you little boys,” Tavon said, coming up behind them. “Hey, Mack when you’re done playing around, can I have a little help? I’m having issues with my face.” Tavon was partially war-painted. The white stinger was lime-green.
“Dude, we all have issues with your face,” Willy laughed.
“Careful or he’ll rearrange yours,” Charlie warned.
“What’s the problem?” Mack asked. He released Jenna, leaving her feeling cold and slightly unstable on her feet.
“I can’t get this crap to go on right over the beard. Will you shave it off?”
Mack eyed the big man. “You sure? Doesn’t your wife love the beard?”
“She does, man. A whole helluva lot.” Tavon’s huge shoulders sagged.
“I’ve always wondered. Which came first, the white stinger, or the name Sting?” Willy asked.
“Mrs. Sting. She always comes first. And frequently.” Tavon hitched one eyebrow. He handed Mack the largest, scariest knife Jenna had ever seen. “Do it, Mack. Before I change my mind.”
Tavon sat on the boulder. He tipped his face up so that Mack could reach him. Jenna shivered. How could anyone sit still while that blade scraped over his throat? It showed a tremendous amount of trust.
“Let me turn the volume up on the tablet, Jenna. You listen to the commands and do what it says,” Charlie instructed. “Normally, a sniper like Mack has a spotter like Tavon to give him wind speed directions. Mack would then adjust the scope dope on his rifle for the distance. The dope is all the data that can cause a bullet to stray off target—wind speed, temperature, elevation of terrain, humidity.”
“Okay…I get it, sort of.” Jenna felt the weight of the rifle in her hands. “The iPad is my spotter?”
“Exactly! Paint the target and let the iPad tell you what to do next.”
She got back into her shooting stance and aimed again. A woman’s voice, much gruffer than the one on her car’s navigation system, told her to lift the rifle higher. A little beep went off and she assumed she’d locked onto the target. Letting out her breath, she closed one eye, aimed and was rocked backwards when the rifle fired. There wasn’t a loud boom since the sound suppressor was on, but she felt how powerful the weapon was. Just like old times.
Charlie rushed over and took the rifle out of her hands. “You hit it! You’re a natural.”
A natural. That’s what Dad had called her when he first taught her to shoot. At nine years old, she had been so desperate to impress the old man that his words had rained down on her like diamonds.
“Try again!” Her dad had encouraged and she did. Her young self had hit every target she aimed at. She had reveled in his smile and soaked up his adoration. After that, she’d practiced day after day, imagining that she’d finally found something to make her daddy love her enough to stay home.
Reality smacked hard the day she had won the Target Shooting Nationals for her age group. With the shiny trophy under her arm, she’d walked home to her dark house. Mom had passed out drunk, and Dad was in the middle of the Indian Ocean. That trophy had gone in the back of her closet. She’d never picked up a gun again.
Until today.
“What happens if the target is moving? Toward me, say. What do I do then?” She asked Charlie.
“Same thing. Paint the target to lock on, listen to the instructions, and shoot the bastard. Aim for the center mass, his mid-section—not his heart, not his head—his belly. You’ll have a better chance of hitting the target.”
“Just aim at a spot ahead of the moving target. When he gets to that spot, you pull the trigger.” Willy aimed and shot at an imaginary target.
She didn’t want to shoot anyone, but she’d be prepared. She’d cover them and do what was necessary. If it came down to Mack’s life being in the balance?
She’d pull that trigger until the guerillas ripped the rifle from her cold, dead hands.
“Wicked shooting, Jenna.” Charlie took the rifle and iPad from her. “I’m going to pack everything up.”
She glanced at Mack, but he was still shaving Tavon.
Willy tugged on her cap. “Charlie and I have a bet going, but we need intel. What happened between you and Mack? I heard you dumped his ass.”
Jenna froze.
“Careful,” Tavon said to Mack. “That’s my pretty face you’ve got under the knife.”
Using his bandanna, Mack wiped a streak of red off Tavon’s jawline. “You must have jerked.”
“Like hell I did,” Tavon grumbled.
“So? Is it true?” Charlie was back, standing close. She was sandwiched between handsome Handly bookends.
“Drop it, Willy,” Mack warned.
Jenna lifted her chin. “It was a mutual parting of ways.”
The muscles bunched in Mack’s broad back. “Right. Mutual.”
“Shit, Mack!” Tavon slapped his hand over his cheek, staunching another nick. “Talk or shave. Don’t do both.”
“I totally get it, Jenna. You don’t need to spell it out. Mack didn’t fulfill your…” Willy wiggled his eyebrows. “…needs.”
“I’m going to beat you, Willy.” The warning was clear. She did not need to see the anger sparking from Mack’s blue eyes to know he wanted to shut down this conversation. Immediately. He was angry? What about her anger, her hurt? She had loved him, more than she’d loved any person in her life, but it hadn’t been enough to make him stay.
“Later. After you’ve moved that blade off my jugular,” Tavon said.
Willy’s mischievous face with the deep dimples and the white toothed smile was much easier to focus on than the intense heat coming from Mack.
“You’re right. It was about needs. I needed him and so did the Navy. Mack made his choice,” she said softly.
Willy’s grin slipped. “You’re an all or nothing gal, huh?”
“Yep. All or nothing.” Sadly, she wanted all of Mack, but was left with nothing.
“Huh. Whatever happened to the girls who just wanna have fun? They seem harder to find these days.” Willy’s eyebrows crinkled as if he was trying to figure out women.
Jenna liked to have fun, but she was ready to have a life.
Mack gently slapped Tavon’s cheek. “You’re done.”
“Finally.” Tavon jumped up. “I’m lucky to have survived that shave.”
Jenna was suddenly nervous that Mack’s undivided attention was on her. She lifted her shoulders and met his gaze.
Chapter Eight
‡
Mack watched her, remembering a different story. In his version, Jenna was the one who’d made choices long ago that didn’t include loving a Navy SEAL. Two years earlier, Mack was looking for a way to get to the admiral when he’d happened to meet the man’s daughter.
Mack had been walking through the 32nd Street Navy Exchange in San Diego (NEX) when a beautiful woman breezed in through the main entrance, short-circuiting his brain. Her blonde hair had been long enough to touch the waist of her short skirt, and her tanned legs had seemed to go on fo
r miles.
“Hey, Billy. Have you seen my dad?” His trained ears zoomed in on her voice, soft and sweet, as she chatted up the cashier.
The young cashier had sharp predator’s eyes that took in the woman’s soft curves. He laughed too loudly, leaned in too closely. “You’re in luck. No admiral here.”
“Pshew.” She smiled. “I’ve been avoiding him all day.”
Mack cocked his eyebrow. That sexy sweetheart was Admiral Collin’s daughter? This could be good for him. Really good. Mack had been trying to figure out a way to get Tavon out of the brig for breaking a guy’s face during a bar fight. The admiral had the power to release Tavon. And lookie there, his ticket to the admiral just walked through the door. On sexy legs.
Silently, he moved through the NEX, pretending to be shopping as he stalked his target. The woman had some of the biggest most expressive brown eyes he’d ever seen. And her smile defined gorgeous. This had escalated from a good plan to his lucky day.
“Gone on any cool trips lately?” The cashier was still trying his moves on the admiral’s daughter.
“Costa Rica and Bali. Last month I sailed on a pirate ship in the Indian Ocean.” She tossed her hair back and Mack felt the movement all the way into his gut.
He roamed closer, picking up objects he didn’t need. A bottle of perfume—ugh too sweet. A purse—yeah, really not his style and didn’t match his camouflage. A gold bracelet—no one to give it to. He kept selecting items at random as if he meant to buy them. As if he gave a damn about anything other than the long-legged blonde in the short skirt with the sparkly brown eyes and easy laughter.
“You’ve got a great job. Hey, I’m going on a break. Can I buy you a soda?” The hound-dog cashier was all but salivating. Mack had the sudden desire to make the guy disappear.
“No, thank you, Billy. I’m more of a…” As if sensing his gaze on her, she turned and warmed Mack with a smile. “…double-chocolate mocha girl.”
Striding forward, he held up a Starbucks card. “Can I buy you a double-chocolate frappe?”
She cocked her head. “With extra chocolate sprinkles?”
“Is there any other way to drink a frappe?” Hell, he didn’t know. He was more of a black coffee guy. Sweetened drinks weren’t his thing.
“Tempting, but I don’t get involved with Navy guys.”
He couldn’t stop staring at her full lips. “I don’t, either. We’ve got a lot in common already.”
She laughed, a hearty sound that stirred him up faster than any girly giggle. “Maybe we do.” Her gaze took a lazy stroll down him and back up. The straight pearly whites she flashed made him think she saw something she liked. “Forget the coffee. There’s a mom and pop ice cream shop on Coronado. I’ll buy you a double-fudge sundae.”
He let out a low whistle. “Damn, how’d you know? That’s exactly what I’d like to eat.” And other things. All kinds of other hot, sweet things. He warmed up to this idea really fast.
The hound-dog cashier glared at him as he walked out of the NEX with his arm draped over Jenna’s shoulders. Mack shrugged at the guy. He couldn’t believe his luck either.
Outside she give him the once over in the afternoon sunlight. She had the cutest freckles on her nose and the most serious dark brown eyes. “What’s your name, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Mack.” It was rare when a woman recognized his rank.
“I’m Jenna. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “What kind of a car am I driving?”
Bold, he’d give her that, but she wasn’t getting his keys. “It’s not a car.” He pointed toward the Harley Davidson. “You okay on the back of a motorcycle?”
Her eyes widened. “No. Would you be?”
She had him there. He’d never ridden on the back of any bike. He didn’t trust other motorcyclists. “We’ll take your car.”
The hottest grin he’d ever seen spread across her pretty face. “I’ll drive the Harley.”
“Hell, no.”
She placed a hand on his chest, her big eyes capturing his. “Please? It won’t be the first time. You can trust me.”
He pulled her hand from his fast-beating heart and locked his fingers with hers. It surprised him how well her hand fit in his.
“Trust you, huh?” She was small but exuded power and control. For no decipherable reason, he did trust her.
“We’ll go as fast as you want. I’ll be gentle with your…” Her gaze dipped lower. “…machine. It’s going to be a great ride.”
“You don’t have to be too gentle.”
Heat flashed between them. He handed her a helmet and strapped on his. “All right, Jenna, you’re driving. But one little swerve, babe, and I take control.”
“I don’t swerve.” Rising up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “And you won’t be sorry.”
He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and hung on. She was right. He wasn’t sorry. She loved speed, he got that, but she was also careful and drove with confidence. A heady mix, this one. Intriguing.
She bought him the best ice cream he’d had in his life and they sat in a booth at the back of a small shop. Damn. He never knew that a girl licking cold ice cream off a spoon could be so hot.
He scooped the last drips of chocolate syrup out of his bowl. “Why don’t you get involved with Navy guys?”
She sat back and crossed her arms. “They only want one thing.”
He reached forward and wiped chocolate off the corner of her mouth. “One thing, huh? I can think of, oh, fifty things I want.” Many of them involved her lips.
“Only fifty?” Her pink tongue dabbed at the place he’d just touched as if trying to taste him. “I’m talking about the one Big Thing—the admiral. My father.”
He sputtered and choked.
“You okay?”
“Yep. Swallowed wrong.” He took a sip of water.
“Navy guys want favors. Better training, a bump up the ranks—one wanted to get into the SEALs. Can you believe that? They think dating me is a one shot ticket straight to my dad. Morons. As if I can be used that easily.”
He choked on the water again.
She pounded his back. “You really need work on that swallowing thing.”
“I know. Go. On.”
“The funny thing is that my dad and I butt heads all the time. I rarely talk to him and never about my personal life. He’s domineering, and I don’t like to take orders. Mostly I avoid him as much as I can, except for Christmas and Thanksgiving, if he’s in town. That’s about it.”
There went Mack’s plan to get to the admiral.
She eyed him. “Are you going to eat that cherry?”
He handed it to her and she popped it in her mouth. Heat rushed to his groin. “No Navy guys. Ever?”
She toyed with the stem. “I don’t date any military men, you know, seriously. They all leave eventually, and there’s that chance they’ll never be back.” She glanced up quickly. “Sorry. But it’s the reality, right? Who needs that heartbreak?”
He nodded. “No need for apologies. You say it like it is. I like that about you.”
“You do?”
“Hell, yeah. I don’t date seriously, either. Leaving is a bitch. Waiting, not knowing, keeping the home fires burning? I wouldn’t ask that of anyone I love. I’ve always thought this job is harder on the families than it is on the sailors.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You okay?”
“It is hard. You have no idea… I’m a Navy brat, but I’ll never be a Navy wife.”
Deep emotion flashed behind her chocolate brown eyes. He’d seen haunted faces like hers on battle-weary men and a time or two in his own mirror. What haunted Jenna Collins? It was just another thing about her that would keep him awake at night.
“I understand.”
“No one really does. My mother drank herself to death out of loneliness because of the Navy.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll never be my mother.”
He reached
out and took her hand in his. Gently, he rubbed her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry, Jenna. That must have been very hard.”
She shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t usually tell people that.”
He took her hand in his and locked their fingers together. “Go on. I’m a great listener.”
“You don’t want to hear this.”
He leaned forward. “Yes I do. Please. Tell me.”
She studied his face. After a long moment she began, “Mom only drank when Dad was on duty. When he was home, she threw out the bottles and cleaned herself up, becoming the perfect bride. When he left…God, Mack, it was horrible. She missed him so much. At night, I had to cover my head to block out her wails. She was a mess. I took care of everything—the food, the bills, picking her up off the floor and walking her to bed, putting make-up on my bruises, hiding the truth from the neighbors and the Navy. Everything.”
He ground his molars. “She hurt you?”
“Sometimes. But she never remembered touching me like that, so I hid the truth, even from her. I never told anyone. It wasn’t good form for an admiral’s wife to be a lush.”
“How old were you?”
“My earliest memory of being scared? At six, I cooked mac-and-cheese on the stove and begged my mom to eat it. I was sure she was going to starve. Jeesh, it’s a wonder I didn’t set the house on fire.”
“Or burn yourself! Dammit! Where was the admiral in all this? It’s bad enough your mother was drinking heavily with a child in the house, but what about your father? Who leaves a six year-old to take care of her sick mother?”
“He didn’t know. He was out at sea protecting America from bad guys.”
“Shit. That’s why I’ll never be married. I love what I do, and while I’m serving the country, it’s best to keep things simple.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Where does that leave us?”
She gave him a slow heat-packed smile. “Hungry. I know a great Mexican restaurant in downtown San Diego. It’s way off the beaten path, but really, really good.”
“You treated for the ice cream.”
“I figure it’s fair since you’re letting me drive the Harley.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers for the keys. “I like all that power between my legs.”
SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style Page 88