SEAL My Love: A SEAL Brotherhood Novel

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Well, make sure you have a case of condoms, because I have a feeling you’re going to get all the practice you need, plus a little extra for dessert. You’ll do fine. He looks like he wants to lead, so let him. Holy hell, I wish I was in your shoes.”

  “Might make it into your book, then? Your mom tells me you write your friends and enemies into all your books.”

  Linda laughed. “I do crazy wicked things with some of my friends. Make them have sex in strange places. If they only knew how sick and twisted I really am.”

  “That’s what your mother says, too.” She was hesitant to bring up the subject, but decided vacation time was perfect for baring it all. “What in the world do you say to your mom and dad? Especially since Tyler’s on your covers.”

  “One. He’s only on one cover.”

  “Kate has never told me she objects. She likes your books, and that’s how I started reading you, from books I borrowed from her.”

  “Of course Kate’s okay with it. It’s my dad who had a hard time with what I wrote. Mom is, well, Mom.”

  “She’s very proud of you and has told me several times. The girls want to write picture books, too.”

  “I forgot you know them well,” Linda said. “She babysits for you now and then?”

  “Yup. The girls love her. She teaches them to paint.”

  “Mom’s certainly a free spirit. Ex hippies always turn out unusual. My parents never changed from what it sounds like they were in college.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to read my character in one of your books. You’ll tell me, then, so I don’t miss it. Five minutes of infamy, since I probably won’t do anything too flashy.”

  “Could be. Most my friends are in my books—not that they’d recognize themselves. I take a kernel of the truth and explode it into something they’d never think of. My guilty pleasure. But, if you want to share any details, I’m your gal. You sure you two have never met before?” Linda quickly slipped on a red polka dot bikini, turning her back so Gretchen could tie the spaghetti straps together at her shoulder blades.

  “Just like the song, Linda.”

  “Who was that who sang it?” she asked.

  “Beats me.”

  “Bryan something. Except it was a Yellow Polka Dot Bikini.”

  “You think they’ll notice? That’s the smallest thing I’ve seen. Mine’s a one-piece.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “I like a little tummy help after three girls.”

  “Yes, and my little tummy is all mine. No children to blame it on. A little lazy, I guess.”

  “Well, I tried. But in the end, all I wanted to be was just a good mom. Not a movie star or a celebrity, like you.”

  “Oh nonsense, Gretchen. You’re gorgeous. And you married a celebrity, so you know what that’s all about. What a total jerk, if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t ask you.” She had tied and re-tied the strings together and was finally satisfied the bow was straight. “There. I think that meets my high standards. And I double-tied it. If you get the sudden need to flash your boobs on the beach, just understand your top may not fall to the sand gracefully when you pull the strings.” Gretchen fluttered her eyelashes for extra effect.

  “You should be a romance writer,” laughed Linda. “You’re a natural. Flashing boobs and having things fall delicately to the sand. Oh my, what an imagination you have!”

  “Don’t lie to me. I have none.”

  “And you’re not a very good liar, either.”

  Chapter 5

  Trace noted Linda and Gretchen took one of the three vehicles left with the house, heading down to the Blue Water Bay Resort. He doubted they’d want to be on the beach at the hot part of the day, so figured he’d catch them in the bar later on, after the rest of the crew was situated back at the house. Kate and Libby were organizing a shopping trip to load up on staples, which was in the same center as the resort, so he planned on tagging along. Coop and Fredo were also going to come.

  The resort held a Polynesian review every Sunday night, which was supposed to be quite spectacular, so he hoped he could get an informal date with Gretchen this evening, but he’d take Linda, too, if he had to. The whole house was commenting on Linda and her antics. But she was family and would be a source of entertainment in case any of them needed it. Therefore, she was always welcome.

  Kyle called in and got the report they’d all arrived safely. He spoke briefly with Fredo and Cooper. Armando had a longer conversation with him, as there was a secret mission coming up that was going to involve only a handful of the guys.

  Libby was anxious to get their shopping done, so she asked Trace if he was ready to go.

  “Whenever you’re ready, ma’am.”

  Libby grinned. Her tall, lanky good looks were a perfect match to her husband’s six foot four frame. With Kyle not being present, it was left to Libby to keep the household organized and to serve as Mother Hen.

  “You don’t have to go all ma’am and such with me, sailor. Just call me Libby, or Coop’s lady, or something like that. We’re not too formal in our household.”

  “Yea, but don’t get her mad, Trace. She’s darned pretty when she’s flustered, but wicked with the words,” Coop admitted, coming from behind Libby and taking her into his arms backwards. He planted a kiss on her neck.

  “Duly noted, Coop.” Trace bowed to Libby. “Your chariot awaits, madame, when you are ready.”

  Libby turned in Coop’s arms. “I like this new guy. He’s not going to stay single long, I can tell. He’s a charmer.”

  “Permission granted to flirt, Libby, but just remember who you come home with.”

  “Always,” she whispered and kissed Coop full on the lips, standing on her tiptoes.

  Kate appeared, handed the baby to Tyler, and the four of them jumped in one of the Jeeps. Trace honked the horn, and soon Fredo, who had changed his shirt into a bright red Hawaiian print, jumped in the passenger seat up front with Trace.

  The large, modern grocery store was somewhat unexpected. It had a world-class deli, a fantastic selection of beers from around the world, even a sushi bar and pizza oven, as well as a full bakery. Their basket was filled with items not normally on Trace’s bachelor grocery lists, but a huge variety of chips and ice cream balanced out the otherwise healthy fare. He knew he was in for some good home cooking, a luxury in his world.

  “We have a signup list on the refrig,” Libby told him. “Kate, Gina, and I will take turns doing the cooking, but you guys get to do prep and cleanup. We’re putting the twins in charge of housekeeping.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Sounds like you have everything covered.”

  “We’ve done these big trips several times. They are a lot of fun, but with the sheet, no one is stuck with all the work. Did your other Team go on trips together?” she asked.

  Trace always avoided thinking about his past married life and never talked about it with anyone. “I went on a couple before me and the ex parted ways. They were not run the same. Big booze parties with a lot of apologizing afterwards. I can tell you’ve got it dialed down.”

  “That’s the way Christy Lansdowne runs it, like Kyle runs the team. I just watch and follow what she does. I’m sure she learned it from another SEAL wife when Kyle was first starting out.”

  “Good leadership all the way around. I can see why it was so difficult for me to get attached to Kyle’s team. He and Christy are a great combination. We’re all lucky to be on Team 3.”

  “I think so, too.”

  The bill came to over five hundred dollars, which Libby paid from an envelope of cash she carried in her purse. Fredo was in line behind them with his favorite tequila and a bag of limes.

  “I can add those on here. Come on down, Fredo,” said Libby.

  “No, I got this.” Fredo answered. Trace knew that meant the tequila would be housed in his room, not in the kitchen with all the other food and drink.

  Posters advertising the Sunday night buffet and show wer
e plastered everywhere.

  Coop and Trace wheeled out the two shopping carts, and everyone loaded up the bags in the small storage in the back of the Jeep. Trace handed the keys to Coop.

  “I’m going to try to find Gretchen and Linda. Going to see if I can interest them in the show tonight. You guys going to come?”

  “I’d like to,” said Libby. “We can meet you there.” She examined his shorts and flip-flops. “Won’t you have to go home and change?”

  “Honey, this is Hawaii,” Coop interrupted. “Even the bankers wear flip flops and shorts, and half of them are barefoot behind the counter. He’ll be fine.” He took the keys. “Best of luck. You get stood up and need a ride, give me a call, hear?”

  “Roger that. Thanks, Coop.”

  Trace searched the large open-beamed lobby and reception area at the resort then headed to the bar area and patio, which had outstanding views of the Hanalei Valley. Just as Gretchen had described, the sunset was going to be a bright orange one, judging from the glow already forming in the late afternoon horizon. Large white clouds towered in the late afternoon sky, tinged in pink, which promised a light shower by morning if the trade winds blew them ashore. Kauai was the greenest of all the Hawaiian chain, with rainfall on some of its peaks nearly the highest in the world, peppering the green volcano-created hillsides with waterfalls.

  The women weren’t there.

  He followed a path of crushed rock down to the beach area below the resort and had no trouble spotting Linda Gray’s floppy red hat. Next to her, Gretchen lay on her belly reading a book. They were shaded by a thatched palapa. Linda had been served a hollowed-out pineapple drink, while Gretchen was sipping on something pink with an umbrella and fresh fruit adorning the side of the tall glass.

  Trace was surprised the beach was nearly deserted.

  “Well, look who I found!” he said.

  Gretchen greeted him with a warm smile as she sat up. Her oiled body glistened in the diffuse light. Linda’s back and shoulders already looked like they were turning red.

  “Oh, Trace. You’re here just in time.” Linda rummaged through her large, red beach bag. Holding up a tube of lotion, she asked, “Can you put this on my back, please?” She raised her glasses and winked at him for a special effect.

  He grabbed the tube and noted she was only using a sunscreen of twenty. “You need something stronger, Linda. You’re red already.”

  “See? I told you so,” added Gretchen. “Here, use this on her.” She handed him a blue spray bottle with sunscreen rated fifty.

  He applied the spray, and Linda arched back with a hiss crossing her teeth. “Ouch, that’s cold.”

  “You’re a little burned. You should stay out of the sun for a day or two,” he said as he smoothed the oil over her skin gently. “The sun is hotter here than in California. Need to give your body time to adjust.” He turned to address Gretchen, “May I?”

  “Go right ahead.”

  Trace removed his shirt and gave himself a spray chest side and back side, and after smoothing the foam, he used the remainder on his hands for his face and followed up with a little extra to his lower legs. When he was finished, both women were staring at him with their jaws dropping.

  His immediate reaction was embarrassment, and he made a point to re-apply the sunscreen to his face to cover up a possible blush forming there.

  “Anyone up for going in the water?” he asked.

  Both girls stood up.

  “I think you’d better wear a shirt, Linda, with your coloring,” Trace added.

  “Can I wear yours?” She batted her brown eyes at him.

  He acquiesced, handing it to her. She slipped it over her shoulders and winked at Gretchen. That’s when he noticed she had become quiet all of a sudden. “Well, ladies,” he said, as he extended his elbows. “Shall we dip our toes in the surf?” They locked arms, and the threesome went down to the water’s edge.

  “About time we saw some nice abs and biceps,” quipped Linda, holding her hat atop her head against a breeze that threatened to remove it.

  “Glad I could oblige.”

  Gretchen was still quiet, but her arm linked through his gave him a spark of excitement at the feel of flesh on flesh.

  “There’s a big party tonight here,” he began. “They do a Sunday night buffet and a Polynesian review. Either of you interested in attending? I think Libby and Coop and some of the others are planning on coming down.”

  “I saw that,” whispered Gretchen. “Looks like fun. Do they actually swallow fire?”

  Trace shrugged. “Beats me, but it showcases the native dances and some customs of the islands—all the islands in the South Pacific, not just the Hawaiian chain. It was recommended by our guide.”

  At the water, Linda insisted on getting Trace totally soaked as Gretchen hung back by herself. The novelist changed her mind and opted to return to their palapa and seek some shade, so she left Trace and Gretchen wandering down the beach.

  “You having fun?”

  Gretchen smiled to her toes. “I was just thinking about that.”

  “That means you don’t take enough vacations.”

  “You’re spot on with that one, Trace. I’ve just been concentrating on being a good mom, raising the girls, and paying the bills.” After a brief silence, she corrected herself. “Not complaining or anything. I have a nice life. And it’s my job. I love being a mom, but honestly, everything else was put on hold when I became single.”

  “I’ve been told your girls are first class, like their mother.”

  “Well, you don’t want to come around on laundry or cleaning day. I look like the Wicked Witch of the West, and my demeanor is far from pleasant. The two older girls find every excuse in the book to be gone that day.”

  Trace liked that she didn’t take herself seriously, and he also liked the way the sounds of their combined laughter mingled together.

  “How about you?” she asked. She unclipped her hair and then folded it back into place again.

  “It’s getting better. I wasn’t so sure earlier on.” He checked to make sure Linda wasn’t within earshot. “Your friend here cuts a wide swath. Kind of sucks up the oxygen in the room.”

  “Even at the beach.” Gretchen chuckled again. “But she means well. I think she’s actually afraid of herself. More than she likes to let on.”

  “And perhaps a touch too lonely,” said Trace.

  Gretchen sighed at that one. “Being single for me is one thing. But for her? Why, she’s supposed to be the world’s expert on sex and all things romantic, but has no romantic life of her own.”

  “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” he asked her. The lowered sun had created a bright peach sky as the fluffy clouds morphed into what looked like big clumps of suspended cotton candy. Her honest eyes searched his, and the urge to kiss her rekindled.

  “Maybe you should scratch that itch, Trace. I think she’s up for a little adventure.”

  “Ah! Well,” he admitted, “I have another lass I’m sort of interested in, if she’ll give me the time of day—”

  They paused, and he found it natural to take her right hand, lacing his fingers between hers. They continued sauntering down the beach, their arms swaying with their hands still locked together.

  Gretchen abruptly came to a stop. “I’ve got six days to give you, Trace. And then, I go back to Portland and resume my motherly duties.”

  She said it with her laughing eyes, but the comment was serious. He moved his hands to her face, tipped her head back, and kissed her gently on her sweet lips. He loved the feeling of standing with her with the roar of the ocean at their side, her body shaking slightly.

  “Don’t be afraid, Gretchen. Just let yourself enjoy what’s right in front of you.”

  She wrapped her arms around him and buried the side of her face in his chest. But even though he stood firm, he could still feel her shaking. He could tell she needed time.

  Well, the truth was he did, too.

  Chapter 6


  Gretchen and Linda sat with their crowd after the huge dinner. Several of the men had left to go get drinks in the bar, including Trace. When the lights began to dim and it was obvious the program was starting, Gretchen looked around to see if he was on his way back to her side, but as the long Hawaiian chant began and dancers took to the stage, it became clear the men had decided to view the program from the back. She still couldn’t locate any of them.

  No one else seemed to notice.

  One by one, the performers demonstrated different costumes and themes from the various lands of the South Pacific. She watched the all-male fire dancers who did, indeed, swallow lit torches and perform acrobatics between flames, carrying wooden implements. It was a spectacular display, and soon, she forgot about the vacant seat next to her.

  The stage was darkened, and then a gorgeous Polynesian dancer dressed in all white came out covered in flowers. Other young dancers spread petals all over the dance floor and kept time with the gentle sway of the most sensual hula Gretchen had ever seen.

  An older, heavy-set woman sat to the side, picked up a ukulele, and began singing the beautiful Hawaiian wedding song. The dancer turned her beautiful body to the side and welcomed her male partner, also dressed in white. It didn’t take Gretchen long to recognize Trace’s physique. His sandy wind-blown hair and bright smile was a welcome sight. He wore white long pants and a white shirt, unbuttoned, not leaving much to the imagination. Gretchen saw the audience react to his ripped upper torso. He was also barefoot. He smiled to the audience and took a short bow to the maiden.

  The crowd loved it. They whistled and clapped, recognizing that he’d been picked from the guests to dance with this lovely maiden. She undulated in front of him and then at his side. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep up with her, but made a good effort. She drifted to his front and pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and dropped it on the stage, revealing Trace’s huge shoulders, his long muscular arms, and the way his hips swung from side to side, which delighted the female part of the audience.