Seal Team Ten

by Brockmann, Suzanne

  "Pleiades," she said, pointing up to the stars. "It's my favorite constellation. It's the—"

  "That little tiny cluster of stars," Blue said. "I know the constellations."

  Lucy looked at him. "Don't tell me SEALs are trained in astronomy."

  "Intergalactic space navigation," he corrected her. "In case we need to run a rescue mission on some planet in the Andromeda galaxy."

  She looked at him and laughed. He loved the sound of her laughter. He had to fight to keep from reaching out and pushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

  "You know you say things like that so seriously I almost believe you," she told him.

  "Alpha Squad has trained to fly the space shuttle," he said. "We haven't had the opportunity yet, but if the need arose, we'd be ready."

  "You sound so casual about it," Lucy said, turning slightly on the stairs so that she was facing him. "As if hundreds, probably thousandsy of hours of training are in­significant."

  She'd changed from her jeans to a pair of cutoff shorts

  when they'd arrived home and Blue couldn't keep his eyes

  from traveling the long, smooth lengths of her legs. Just last

  night he'd run his hands and his mouth over every inch of

  those beautiful, sexy legs He forced himself to shrug, bringing his gaze back up to her face. "That particular training op was fun. Some of them aren't."

  "Like what?"

  He shrugged again. "Some of the guys really hate the submarine work. It's pretty claustrophobic stuff. Others turn green at the high-altitude parachute jumps. And most SEALs didn't have fun during the Arctic survival train­ing."

  "But those things didn't bother you."

  "No,” He smiled. "I could handle the physical training. My personal hell was trying to learn a different language. I busted my ass for that one."

  Blue could see amusement shining in Lucy's eyes. "Are you serious?"

  "I am now fluent in German," he continued. "And I can parlez-vous enough to get by in French and Arabic, but let me tell you it was a real uphill battle. I would've gladly taken a repeat session on Arctic survival, instead."

  "Why did you have to learn a language, too?" Lucy asked. "I thought you said Joe Cat was the language spe­cialist in your unit."

  Blue shifted down several steps, leaning back on the porch with his elbows and stretching his legs out in front of him. He'd hoped his movement would get him away from the magnetic pull of Lucy's eyes, but now he was inches from the satiny skin of her thighs. He felt sweat trickle down the middle of his back.

  "He is," he answered her. "But we all need to have at least one language besides English that we can speak flu­ently. It's important on an overseas mission not to look and sound like an American. That can be a real kiss of death. Part of SEAL Team Ten's counterterrorist training is learn­ing how to insert into a country and blend in. Hide in plain sight." He sighed, shaking his head. "But I tell you, it was frustrating as hell watching Cat plow through language af­ter language, sounding like a native after only a day or two of listening to the tapes. He was learning two different dia­lects of Russian while I was still stumbling over 'Guten Tag, wie geht es dir? Meine Nahme ist Fritz.'"

  "Your name is Fritz?" Lucy repeated, covering her mouth with her hand as she tried not to laugh.

  "Fritz or Hans or Johann," Blue said, smiling back at her. "When I go on an overseas mission to someplace like Cairo or Kathmandu, I play a German because of my hair. I've even learned to speak English with a heavy Deutsch ac­cent."

  Lucy looked away from him and up at the stars again, trying to imagine the extent of the effort Blue had put in to become a SEAL. Clearly it wasn't all physical training. He had worked hard to get where he was. He'd truly wanted it badly enough.

  The sound of insects scratching and buzzing and hum­ming and rattling filled the night air. "You never fail to amaze me," Lucy finally said, so softly he had to lean for­ward to hear her.

  "You're pretty amazing yourself, Yankee." Their gazes locked, and Blue felt himself drop into a wild free-fall of sexual energy that rivaled his most intense skydiving jumps. Except right now he wasn't wearing any kind of parachute. God only knows how he was going to land without hurting himself. Or Lucy.

  "I'm not amazing. I'm a coward," she said, looking away from him. "You've gone so many different places and had so many adventures." She sighed. "You were right about Hatboro Creek. There are places that I'd rather be, but look at me. I ended up back here." She stood and gazed up at her big Victorian house, looming above them in the darkness. "Living here was my mother's dream, not mine."

  "What's keeping you from selling and moving on?" Blue asked quietly.

  Lucy held out her hand for him, and he hesitated only a moment before taking it and letting her pull him to his feet. But she let go of him almost immediately. He followed her in the soft moonlight around to the side of the house.

  "I know exactly what I'm getting in Hatboro Creek," she said as they walked slowly into the backyard. "It's safe and secure—no risk. Like I told you, I'm a coward."

  "Just because it's hard for you to throw away your mother's dreams," Blue said softly, "doesn't make you a coward."

  Lucy turned and looked at him, the moonlight reflecting the surprise in her eyes. "Don't tell me. SEALs are trained in basic psychology."

  "The psychology we learn isn't basic," he said with a smile. But then his smile faded and he gazed at her steadily, his eyes serious. "No, I'm talking from experience, Lucy. I stayed in Hatboro Creek as long as I did because it was my mother's dream."

  Lucy's pace had slowed. She was watching him as they walked, waiting for him to tell her more. But now that he'd started this conversation, he wasn't sure that he could. He'd never talked to anyone about his mother, not even Joe Cat. But he wanted to make Lucy understand that she wasn't alone. It was the least he could do for a friend.

  "My mother married Arthur McCoy because he was an honest and decent man. He wasn't necessarily a kind man, but she did the best she could in the time she had," Blue said. "See, she knew she had cancer—she knew she was dying. She married Arthur for me—so that I wouldn't be all alone in the world after she was gone."

  Lucy was silent, just listening.

  Blue took a deep breath and went on. "It was her dream that there would be someone in Hatboro Creek who would take care of me, someone who would love me and keep me safe. She wanted to know that I'd grow up here, in this lit­tle town, in a good home. She made me promise I'd stay until I finished school."

  They'd walked all the way back to the end of the yard and up the trail through the woods to the back field where there was a small pond. The moon reflected almost perfectly on the glass-calm surface of the water. It was beautiful, but Lucy couldn't look away from Blue's face as he continued to talk.

  "I made a promise, so I stayed." Blue's voice was softer now. "Even when it was clear that her dream wasn't going to come true—that Arthur McCoy had nothing to spare for me outside of a bed to sleep in and food to eat."

  Lucy gazed at Blue in the moonlight. He was a man for whom talk did not come easily, and this was particularly difficult for him to talk about. As she looked in his eyes, she could see a distant reflection of the little boy he'd been, lost and alone. His basic needs had been taken care of, but he'd truly needed so much more. He still did.

  Lucy knew at that moment that she loved Blue McCoy without any doubts, without any reservations. It had seemed so complicated last night and this morning, but it really wasn't. It was as simple as it could possibly be.

  Her heart ached, and she had to wonder if anyone, any­one, had ever told this man that he or she loved him. She knew if she spoke the words that he would back away. She knew that he no longer wanted love, that he saw it as a bur­den, an unlucky twist of fate, a weight to be carried. And she knew that even if he were to change his mind, he wouldn't want her to be the one who loved him. He'd want someone perfect and feminine. Someone special and sweet... like Jenny L
ee.

  But he wasn't alone, and he wasn't unloved. Not as long as Lucy's heart was still beating.

  "I always felt like there was something wrong with me," Blue told Lucy, "because here I was, living this dream of my mother's and hating every damn minute of it. It wasn't un­til I was older that I realized it was her dream, Yankee. Not mine. Sure, it would have been nice if it had all worked out, but it didn't, and that wasn't my fault."

  Maybe that dream of Blue's mother had just taken a whole lot longer to work out than she'd anticipated. Be­cause right now there was someone in Hatboro Creek— someone who would do her damnedest to take care of Blue and keep him safe. Someone who loved him. Someone named Lucy Tait.

  But that, too, was something Lucy couldn't tell Blue. Her words would scare him away. Instead of telling him in words that she loved him, she would show him how she felt.

  She reached out and took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

  But there was regret in his eyes as he looked down at her. "Lucy, I don't think--"

  "Shh," she said, lifting herself slightly onto her toes to kiss him. His mouth was soft and warm and tasted like sweetened coffee. He groaned as she ran her tongue lightly across his lips and he pulled her into his arms, deepening the kiss.

  Blue was spinning. One kiss, and he couldn't stop. One kiss, and he'd finally discovered the meaning of the word impossible. All his life he'd refused to acknowledge that anything could be undo-able. All his life impossible wasn't a word that was in his working vocabulary. Before this kiss, nothing was impossible. But now he knew he'd been mis­taken. Staying away from Lucy, keeping the hot-burning sex, the uncontrollable need, out of their relationship was proving to be just that.

  Her hands were up underneath the edge of his shirt, her fingers cool against his skin despite the heat of the night. Her touch left no doubt in his mind exactly what Lucy wanted. She wanted him. All of him. And she wanted him now.

  And dear Lord, as much as he knew that he shouldn't, the truth was that he wanted her, too. He wanted her with a power that shook him to his very soul, a power that steam­rollered over his resolve to keep sex out of their friendship, a power that neutralized his need to meet the impossible head-on and win.

  Staying away from Lucy was going to be impossible, be­cause as much as he wanted to do the right thing, he wanted even more to make love to her, to please her, to hear that incredible, sexy catch in her breath as he filled her. He wanted all that so much more.

  He wanted to stop, but he didn't want to stop badly enough.

  She was unfastening his shirt, and he helped her with the last button, then let it slide from his arms onto the grass. He unbuckled his shoulder holster as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. The moonlight glistened enticingly on her beau­tiful, smooth skin, on the curve of her breasts and the white lace of her bra. And then she was in his arms again and he was touching her.

  Mercy! All day long he'd fought the urge to touch her. All day long he'd told himself Lucy couldn't possibly be as soft and as smooth and as delicious to touch and kiss and taste as he remembered. What they'd done last night had been damn good, but his imagination and raging libido had surely taken those memories and inflated them beyond reason.

  He was wrong.

  She was perfection.

  And she was his.

  "Let's go for a swim," she whispered, unbuckling his belt. Her eyes were shining a promise that took his breath away as she smiled at him. Blue knew without a doubt that she could have suggested that they go down into the darkest reaches of Hell and he would have gladly followed.

  He kicked off his sandals and stripped off the rest of his clothes as Lucy did the same.

  She was beautiful in the moonlight—so much so that his chest felt painfully tight at the sight of her. She started to­ward the water, but then stopped and turned to face him, as if she somehow knew that he wanted to take a moment to look at her. Her dark hair hung thick and shining around her shoulders—shoulders that were both strong and femi­nine at the same time. She was muscular and sleek, yet soft in all the right places. Her legs were long and well toned, leading up to slim hips and a flat stomach. The silvery light gleamed off her golden skin, casting enticing shadows, em­phasizing the soft curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts. Her nipples were taut with anticipation and need.

  That need was echoed on her beautiful face. Her lips were moist and parted slightly and her usually dancing eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with a molten desire as she gazed back at him.

  Lucy hadn't turned back to let him look at her, Blue re­alized suddenly, a jolt of new fire flooding through his veins. She'd turned back because she wanted to look at him.

  Her gaze was almost as palpable as a caress as her eyes skimmed across his body. She boldly took her time when she reached the obvious evidence of his arousal. When she fi­nally looked up again, she smiled into his eyes, a smile sweet and hot and filled with pleasure.

  Then she turned, and a few short steps brought her to the edge of the pond. She did a surface dive out into the center, barely making a splash, then disappeared into the darkness of the water.

  Blue followed more slowly, watching as she emerged on the other side of the small pond.

  "Hell," he said as he stepped off the edge and found himself suddenly waist deep in icy water. "This water is cold."

  "There's some kind of underground cold spring feeding into this pond," Lucy said, drifting toward him. "It's great—normally around here a pond this size would be­come stagnant and turn into a swamp within a matter of months. But this thing has been around for years. I used to come out here and skinny-dip all the time back in high school."

  "If only I'd known," Blue murmured, lowering himself so that the cool water went up to his chin. The cut on his arm stung for a moment, but only for a moment.

  "I invited you out here for a swim once," Lucy said, treading water as she gazed at him. "I told you all about this pond. But you never showed."

  He didn't remember.

  "It was a really hot day, and you stopped to talk to me," Lucy said. "It was the only other time we actually spoke-besides that time you came to my rescue."

  "You mean the time those damn fools broke your rib out on the baseball field."

  "It was only cracked."

  “Same difference."

  "It was almost exactly a month after that happened," she said. "And it's not the same difference. It takes less time for a cracked rib to heal."

  "I know. I've experienced both," Blue said. "Neither is any fun." He smiled at her. "Both times I thought about you, Yankee, while the doctor was taping me up."

  Lucy splashed water in his direction. "You did not."

  "God's truth," he said, dodging the water. "I honestly did. I thought what a tough kid you must've been to handle that kind of pain."

  "You're just saying that to make up for not remember­ing the only other time we ever talked back in high school," Lucy teased to cover up her embarrassment. "Shoot, it was one of the highlights of my freshman year, and you don't have even the vaguest recollection."

  Blue protested. "Remind me more about it," he said. "Maybe I'll remember."

  "It was about a month after that fight. You and I nearly had a head-on collision in the hall outside the locker rooms," Lucy told him. "I was coming inside after a prac­tice."

  Blue felt his memory stirring. "And I just finished some long-distance run?"

  "And it was about a million degrees out," Lucy said. "We were having some kind of weird heat wave."

  "Yeah, that's right. It was October, right?" Blue said. He could see her, standing in the hallway of the school. She was wearing her baseball uniform, her knees all torn up from fielding ground balls, her hair falling out of a ponytail. Somehow he hadn't noticed her five-thousand-watt smile and her beautiful, sparkling eyes. He must have been blind, or a damned fool, or both. "But it was around ninety de­grees, wasn't it? I do remember, Yankee. I was dying of heat."

  "You were lit
erally dripping with sweat."

  "I was disgusting."

  "You were sexy as hell."

  She was sexy as hell right now, with the cool water barely covering the tops of her breasts. The first shock of the wa­ter had cooled Blue's overheated body down, but now he was getting used to the chilly temperature. And the thought of Lucy wrapping her long legs around his waist was creat­ing quite a bit of new heat. Any minute now, this cold-water pond was going to start boiling.

  "You were fifteen years old," he said. "You didn't even know what that word meant."

  "Sexy?" Lucy's eyebrows went up. "Wanna make a bet, McCoy? One look at you and I was practically paralyzed."

  He laughed again. "I thought you were just shy."

  "Me? No way." She smiled at him. "No, I was just over­dosing on a sudden release of hormones."

  He could relate to that phenomenon, but it didn't make him paralyzed. She was still drifting in the water, about six feet away from Blue, but he meant to change that soon.

  "I think I asked you how the baseball team was doing, right?" he inquired, moving in a big, lazy circle around her. He went briefly under the water and came back up, tossing his wet hair out of his face.

  "You did." She turned in the water to keep facing him, paddling with her hands to stay afloat. "I told you we'd won our first six games, but that the team still had some person­ality problems to work through. I said that just that after­noon, the catcher and the center fielder got into a fist fight. You said that the unseasonable heat and humidity were making everyone more irritable."

  Blue stopped swimming. "You really remember all that?"

  Lucy smiled. "I wrote a word-for-word account in my journal," she confessed.

  "That's when you told me about this pond of yours," Blue said. "You invited me over for a swim. I remember. It sounded really nice, and I told you maybe I'd drop by."

  "But you didn't show. I was heartbroken."