“Gramma’s boobies are flat as pancakes, and she has to scoop them up like biscuit dough to put them in her bra and nearly falls over doing it.”
The girls laughed again.
“Shut up, you guys. That’s not nice. Gramma can’t help it. That’s why I’m not ever going to have any children. I want to be skinny and tall and have nothing that gives me a black eye when I run, like boobs.” Clover droned on. Her little sisters thought she was hilarious.
“Okay, now, let me explain a couple of things first.” Gretchen was entertained, but knew she had to give them a primer or the week-long stay with their dad and his new fiancée would turn out to be a disaster and perhaps ruin her trip. She didn’t want to get midnight calls from the girls in tears and knew it was a distinct possibility.
“Give them their space,” mimicked Rebecca.
“Tell Joanie her cooking is fabulous,” mirrored Angela.
“Try not to listen when they start screwing and you hear Dad grunting like a pig,” said Clover.
Gretchen had to smile at that one. She couldn’t help but add her dose of humor. “Are you sure that’s your dad you’re hearing?”
“Oh, Mom! I’m gonna tell!” teased Rebecca.
“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” quipped Gretchen.
Listening to the girls banter and tease each other, she was proud of the way they’d turned out. They had a healthy respect for relationships and took the breakup of their parents in style, all of them knowing full well their father had been on TV. They’d even seen the video posted by one of those celebrity shows of their father doing Jell-O shots without his shirt on, lapping them up between the dancer’s enormous boobs. Gretchen explained that men went crazy for boobs, that they could be led around by the nose with the chance to just look at a woman’s enormous boobs, and that their father was no different.
Playing for the Portland Trailblazers was something he did. Unlike the effect he had on everyone else around him, to the girls, he was just Dad, who had a weakness for bad behavior and pretty blonde ladies much younger than he. He was special only because he was their father, not due to anything he did on the court or in the bedroom.
Gretchen hadn’t accepted a penny of Tony Sanders’ money. She allowed him to set up college funds for the girls, but she wanted him to feel as useless to their upbringing as she did the night she watched the video of him in her living room. Another nasty part of their breakup she kept from them is the fact that he’d hit Gretchen on two occasions. The second assault was the real reason she left. The girls didn’t need to know this until they were old enough to understand.
The doorbell rang.
“Okay, it’s show time!” Gretchen spouted. “Now is the time to go for a quick pee if you need to.”
“Mom, they have bathrooms at the arena,” said Clover. She opened the front door before Gretchen could answer.
Joanie could have made toothpaste commercials. Her dazzling white, perfectly straight teeth matched the whites of her enormous blue eyes. She had flawless, tanned skin with an eternal rosy glow to her cheeks. Angela had asked Gretchen once why her cheeks sparkled, and she had to explain Joanie wore blush. Her lips were extra full and plump, and the rosy color matched her blush.
“Hi there, girls!” Joanie exclaimed as she jumped up and down like a cheerleader. “We’re going to have such a wonderful time! I can hardly wait to have pool fights and pajama parties and ice cream sundaes with you guys, so we can do some real girl talk and get to know each other!”
The enthusiasm Joanie expended was not returned. All the basketballs on this court were half-deflated. The two younger girls looked up to their tall sister, who towered about four inches over Joanie. “Yeah. That sounds great, doesn’t it?” Clover said, glancing back down on them.
The two little ones nodded obediently.
While Joanie was getting pumped up, picking up backpacks and duffel bags of things, Clover rolled her eyes at Gretchen and then put her finger down her throat, careful not to let anyone else see the action.
Gretchen frowned and then grabbed Clover and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “You take good care of your two sisters, Clover. I’m putting all my faith in you,” she whispered in her ear.
“I’m only doing this for you, Mom, so you can take a vacation that you sorely need. I hope you wear that bikini, and you meet a nice Hawaiian boy who,” she wiggled her eyebrows and leaned in, “you know, treats you fine.”
Gretchen laughed and hugged her again.
“Joanie, they’ve been really looking forward to spending some time with you and Tony. Thank you for doing this. You sure it’s not too much?”
“Oh no!” Joanie wrinkled her perfect unlined brow. “Growing up I was always the one who took care of all the pets. We had chickens, too, and three dogs and a parakeet named Scooter. I love taking care of children and animals. I’m really good with them. You’ll see, huh, girls?” She kneeled down like a coach encouraging her scrappy team, held up her palm, and gave the little ones a high five. Clover waited and fist-bumped.
Gretchen watched them all trudge down the stairs to Joanie’s SUV. She pranced around the vehicle, opened up the hatch and the doors, helped to load the duffel bags wearing her pink running suit and matching pink shoes. Her ponytail, held with a pink scrunchie with a pink flower at the end, wagged from side to side as she bounced, her chest also in motion. Gretchen could only imagine the fantasies Tony must have watching her do anything.
Well, good for him. That was never me.
Joanie bounded up the steps and gave her a hug, which nearly threw her off balance. “Now. You go away and have yourself one heck of a time, and don’t you worry about a thing.”
Gretchen hugged her back and nearly sneezed from the heavy perfume she wore. “Thanks, Joanie. I appreciate this. You call me if anything comes up. Don’t be afraid. You won’t spoil my vacation,” she lied.
“Nonsense. What could come up?”
Her eternal smile and peppy face bounced with the rest of her body back down the stairs, where she perched herself behind the wheel, waved, and began to roll out the driveway.
Gretchen saw the three faces of the precious joys of her life framed by the SUV windows and missed them already. As they waved, they looked sad, but Gretchen worked on herself to blow kisses and pretend she didn’t have a care in the world.
But the truth was, she’d never known anything except being their mother. Playing a single woman on her own, even if it was for one week, seemed so far from her comfort zone she almost called the car back and changed her mind.
But a promise was a promise. She’d promised Kate she’d go and help her with their toddler, Grady. She also looked forward to hanging out with Tyler’s sister, the famous romance novelist Linda Gray, who was also single and about Gretchen’s age. If she lived her life anything close to how she wrote her books, she sounded like she’d be a whole lot of fun.
And there were to be some unattached SEALs floating through here and there, Tyler had told her. What could be wrong with that, even if they were all too young for her? Wasn’t like she’d be searching for a long-term relationship, especially with those boy scouts. But a little dancing, some stargazing, and lying out on a white, sandy beach was just what the doctor ordered.
Chapter 3
Trace picked up his nylon duty bag, this time filled with flippers, snorkel, sunscreen, shorts, several pairs of flip flops, some tees, his TRX for workouts, and his special protein shakes and meal replacement bottles. The thing weighed nearly as much as when it was filled with firepower.
The Lihue airport on Kauai was muggy. As he set down his bag, scanning the crowd, he found Tyler Gray standing nearby. Kate was holding their new baby, about six months old, sleeping against her chest. He saw a couple other Team Guys and some SEAL froglettes, but his eye was drawn to a woman wearing a bright red flowered top and a red sun hat, unloading red suitcases with white hearts all over them. He turned to Tyler.
“Who’s the eccentr
ic with the red shit?”
Tyler grinned and glanced at his wife before answering. “My sister.”
Trace took a step backward. “Next you’re gonna tell me she’s a drag queen. Didn’t know you had that in your family tree, my man.”
“Look, Grandpa. I’ll bet my sister could teach even old, crusty, and arthritic you a thing or two about sex. She writes some of the hottest romance novels on the planet.”
“Ew. That’s a sort of tummy twister, Tyler. Reading sex scenes your sister writes?” Trace worked his face into a prune until he saw an attractive blonde in pastel colors standing behind Kate, her hand over her mouth, snickering. He softened his reaction, stood straight, and instinctively stuck out his chest.
She looked a lot like Kate, Tyler’s wife.
“I’ll have you know one of those books of hers is the reason Kate and I got together. I was reading it on the plane when we met. I read it to help her with technical stuff and…” Tyler hesitated.
Kate pulled out the book and showed Trace. The model on the cover was nearly naked, the veins below his belly button disappearing dangerously into the waistband of a low-hung set of well-worn jeans. He couldn’t see anything of the model’s face, except the chin, but there was no mistaking the dimple there, identical to Tyler’s.
“You’re kiddin’.”
“That’s my man. One hunky cover model,” quipped Kate. She wrapped her arm around Tyler’s waist, looked up, and accepted his kiss.
Trace was going to swear, but stopped himself. The blonde was still giggling.
“And I suppose you like this sort of thing?” Trace said to her.
“I love it. I love her books. Here she comes. Let me introduce her,” she said.
Trace turned around, but he smelled the red woman before he got his eyes on her. She was giving instructions to an island-looking baggage handler, rummaging in her purse for some tip money. No less than four bags, all big ones precariously perched on the handler’s tiny cart.
Trace checked back with Tyler, who nodded. “Hey, sis, I have a friend I want you to meet.”
The lady in red glanced up and took in Trace like she’d just been given an icy glass of water on a hot day.
“Well, hello there, gorgeous!” she gushed. She stepped back, nearly collapsing the pile of suitcases on the short Hawaiian helper.
Taking a long pull from her eyes, Trace felt physically undressed as she worked her way up from his ankles, weaving as her gaze traveled up his torso and back to his face. He blushed in spite of himself.
“Oh. My. Gawd. He’s shy!”
Tyler and Kate laughed out loud. The blonde woman to his left again covered her mouth with her hand and looked down.
He saw the novelist step toward him again. He raised his hands to give up when she leaned in and whispered in her throaty voice, “But something tells me you’re not in the bedroom. You see sex as a full contact sport. Am I right?”
A small crowd had gathered to watch their interchange, and Trace had to do something quick or he’d just need to leave. He grabbed her around her waist, drew her to his chest, and put a lip-lock on her worthy of an airtight space seal. He growled and then whispered back to the shaking woman, “How was that? Honey, best wear your gator repellent and a bullet proof vest when playing with me.”
As he released her, she wobbled, braced herself on her brother, repositioned her red sun hat, which had gotten dislodged, and sucked in air.
“So, Trace, this is my sister, Linda. I can see you’ve already gotten intimately acquainted with the insides of her mouth.”
Trace extended his hand, which dwarfed the tiny, white, red polish adorned hand of the writer when she placed her hand there before he wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed gently.
“Very nice to meet you, romance writer Linda. I’ve never met one before.”
Now it was her turn to blush. He could tell she wasn’t used to being upstaged when it came to being outrageous. He angled his head to check out the reaction on the blonde.
Her curly hair was unruly from the long plane flight from San Diego and stuck out from behind her ears where her clip failed. He wondered how he’d missed seeing her amongst the passengers and then remembered Tyler and the family had flown First Class. She was a first class kind of lady.
“And you must be related to her,” Trace said as he pointed to Kate.
She gave him a full smile and was quick to extend her arm. “I’m Gretchen Sanders, Kate’s older sister.”
Trace felt her warm fingers that weren’t afraid to show strength. As they shook, she added, “I love reading Linda’s novels, but rest assured, I’m no writer.”
She tried to pull her hand back, and Trace thought it might be a good idea to hold onto her for a bit, leaning slightly toward her.
“You want a kiss, too?”
“No, thanks. The handshake is fine,” she said as she stripped her hand from his grip, but then gave him another beautiful smile without blushing.
“I see you’ve met two of the single women already, Trace,” said Fredo after he slapped him on the back. “You’re lucky. If I’d have done that to Mia when I first met her—she’s Armando’s sister—he would have kicked my ass.”
Tyler shrugged. “She needed it. Bad.” He smirked at his sister, who now had her hands on her hips.
“Tyler Gray. That’s a terrible comment.”
“But I was just telling the truth,” Tyler responded.
“Don’t mind him. He was looking out for you, Linda. You said you wanted more hero material for your books. You just got one very close encounter with the wolfish kind,” said Kate between laughs. The baby began to stir, and she bounced him and winked back at Trace.
Linda stood on her tiptoes, arched her back, and asked him, “So, if I asked you real nice-like, would you do it again?” She followed it up by batting her big brown eyes at him. He usually liked that sort of behavior on a woman. And the fact that she was up for round two definitely was in her favor. But he was distracted by the blonde.
“To be honest, I usually like my ladies in pairs. You get your friend here, Gretchen, and I’ll see you two down at the water’s edge this evening. How about that?”
Linda appeared mock disappointed. He checked blondie’s face and saw a frown.
“Not me. I don’t like to share.”
Trace had the urge to go all commando on her, which would have been a completely ridiculous idea.
Reel it in, Gramps. You’re new on the team. The entertainment is over. Time to get serious.
“Okay, now that we got that out of the way, who needs help with their bags?”
Both Gretchen and several other ladies standing nearby, not with the Team, raised their hands. Linda Gray stood next to her bag boy and shrugged, turning around in a huff.
Ten of their party was present with others arriving on a later flight from LA. The Air BNB organizer had arranged to take them to the property and leave her fifteen-passenger van behind with them. Trace sat in the back seat with Fredo after helping to load the bags into the small compartment in the rear. They had a couple of red suitcases with the hearts stacked between them on the bench seat.
Linda and her new friend, Gretchen, sat with Kate and Tyler. Coop and Libby sat with a couple of other Team Guys who were also solo.
The operator was short, about as big around as she was tall, and sported a Mumu and a plastic orchid in her hair.
“A-Loo-Ha!” she said in the greeting of the islands. She waited, and the response was lackluster, so she started the engine to begin the air, but turned to face her audience behind in the bench seats.
“Okay, first, the ground rules. When you come to Hawaii, you have to answer back when you are greeted with the island greeting. And you do it this way, with gusto!” She inhaled and belted out, “A-Loo-Ha!”
Everyone in the van repeated her greeting back to her.
“Good. Glad that’s settled. As you know, my husband will be bringing up your other group. So you just
sit back and relax. I’ll be using this little microphone”—she tapped the mouthpiece attached on top of a metal stem mounted on the dash—“to give you some details about our island on our way. It will take about forty-five minutes, unless we get traffic. Then it will be two hours.”
She giggled in glee worthy of any horror show. Trace noticed how easy it was for her to break the ice.
“Okay, so anyone want to back out? The airplanes back to California are right over there.” She pointed to the airport and got a ripple of laughter.
Trace put his right elbow on the pile of two suitcases covered in the white hearts and rested his head in his palm, waiting to be entertained. The novelist scanned over her shoulder and gave him a flirt, ignoring Fredo. When she’d turned away, Fredo knocked Trace’s arm loose, jarring his repose.
“Don’t fall asleep. The party’s just begun, my friend.”
“How come your wife isn’t here, Fredo?” he asked.
“We had twins three months ago. She didn’t want them to fly, so she sent me on my own, to babysit all you bachelors, since Kyle’s on that training in D.C.”
Trace knew how it worked. If the Team Leader couldn’t be there, even on a big recreational trip, then his two seconds—Cooper and Fredo—would take over, be his eyes and ears. Sometimes Armando, as well. But Fredo was responsible for making sure the bachelors behaved themselves and didn’t negatively reflect on the Navy or the SEALs.
“Congratulations! Hope to meet them soon.” Trace was pleased for the Latino SEAL. “Boys or girls?”
“One each.”
“You’re a fertile motherfucker.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Fredo said, his voice fading out to watch scenery.
Trace tapped his arm, and Fredo gave him attention. “Can you believe this?” Trace mouthed and then pointed to the red suitcases.
Fredo pointed to Tyler. “Sister,” he mouthed.
Trace nodded. “Four suitcases.” He motioned with his fingers and mouthed silently.
SEAL My Love: A SEAL Brotherhood Novel Page 2