Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset

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Hot Alpha SEALs: Military Romance Megaset Page 13

by Sharon Hamilton


  That secrecy and uncertainty would make it tough to have a relationship, but some guys in the teams managed to do it. Have wives and kids, even.

  Funny how back in July Ali had told Darci she wasn’t interested in any relationship with any SEAL, and here she was trying to figure out how to have one with Jon. What a difference one hour of incredible sex could make, especially when blown out of proportion by six months of fantasies about it.

  The front door opening startled Ali. She spun to see Rick standing in the doorway. He bent to grab a plastic bag full of ice in each hand, and then shouldered the door closed behind him. “Wasn’t easy getting this. The first place I went to was sold out. Frigging insane you can’t find ice this time of year. It’s not like it’s beach weather.”

  “No, but it is probably the biggest party night of the year.” Darci moved forward and took the bags from him. “I’ll throw these on the back deck. It’s cold enough that they should keep fine.”

  Rick nodded and walked to where Ali stood. “Hey, girl. You look nice.”

  “Thanks.” She’d gone with basic black herself, but unlike Darci’s dress, Ali’s covered a bit more skin. Of course, that was because Ali had more skin to cover than Darci did.

  Rick dropped a kiss on her cheek and Ali had to think how convenient it would be if she could just have feelings for Rick, or him for her. He was nice and cute, and he had a good-paying civilian job with benefits and a pension plan. But alas, Darci’s brother had become like the brother Ali never had, and all three of them were happy with that.

  Sad that those last criteria Rick possessed were right up there with the first in Ali’s check list of what made for a good man. She felt like an old woman thinking about pensions and health plans as she got closer to the big three-zero.

  The sliding back door slammed closed and Darci came back into the house. “Damn, it’s cold out there.”

  “If you’d put on some clothes and dress like it’s almost January, you won’t be cold, now would you?” Rick reached for a beer bottle and twisted the cap off while shooting Darci a look.

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Oh, shut up. It’s a party and it’s nice and warm in here.”

  It was nice and warm in the house, and when a knock on the front door had them all turning Ali realized that if who she suspected was standing on the other side it was about to get a whole lot warmer.

  “I’ll get it.” Rick shot a glance over his shoulder. “Get that scotch ready. If it’s the team, we’re going to need it.”

  She saw the direction this night could take and it only twisted her insides with more nerves and need. Jon would be drunk on scotch, sexually deprived from a six-month deployment in the war zone, happy to be home and alive. Ali would be just as sexually deprived and a bit tipsy on champagne herself, with no one to kiss at midnight.

  Why didn’t Rick just present Jon to her naked on a silver platter? She was already salivating like she was a starving woman and Jon was the only meal in sight.

  Bracing herself, she donned a smile and watched as Rick pulled open the door. “Dude. Good to see you back in one piece.”

  “Takes a lot to kill me. You know that.” Rick’s bulk blocked the entrance, but there was no mistaking the voice of the man at the door who’d replied.

  “Come on in. I got some beer cold and the scotch is ready to be poured.” Finally, Rick moved out of the way and Jon was there in view.

  “Oh, bro. Let me get something in my stomach before I start on the scotch.” Jon held up the six-pack he’d carried in. “I grabbed this at the gas station on the way over. Sorry, it’s not much. There were slim pickings.”

  “Don’t be silly. You being here is enough, but thanks.” Rick took the six-pack from Jon’s hands and swung the door shut.

  From the kitchen, Darci called out, “Hey, Jon.”

  Jon, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with no coat, moved farther into the room. “Hi, Darci. Happy New Year.”

  “To you too. Hot hors d’oeuvres are coming out of the oven now, and a lasagna is going in for later.”

  “Sounds good.” Jon’s gaze moved from Darci and Ali saw the exact moment he noticed her standing off to the side. He smiled and set her heart fluttering as he came closer until he was standing right there next to her. “Hey. Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Hi. Welcome home.” It was all Ali could do to respond as her throat clenched.

  “Thanks. How have you been?” he asked.

  “Good. Good. Thanks.” She sipped her champagne for lack of anything else to do with her hands or her mouth.

  “Good to hear it.” Jon turned toward Rick to accept the beer bottle he’d handed him, and that was it. The moment was gone. Not that it had been much of a moment to begin with.

  If this stilted attempt at small talk was how the whole night was going to be, she was going to need a refill. She blew out a breath and caught Darci watching her.

  Ali put down her glass and moved around the island, into the kitchen area. “Need help with those hors d’oeuvres?”

  Darci eyed her with more interest than the question warranted but finally nodded. “Sure. The platter is on the counter. Let me grab a potholder and get them out of the oven.”

  Jon and Rick moved out to the deck, presumably to stow in the cooler the six-pack Jon had bought. When Jon’s overwhelming presence was out of the room, Ali could think again. The way he made her feel, an evening filled with bits of casual conversation and not much else was probably best for everyone involved.

  She turned toward the counter and spotted the platter as Darci opened the oven. “Smells good, whatever you’re cooking.”

  Two more big men arrived. Ali recognized Zane and Thom from the Fourth of July party. Since she hadn’t seen them around since, she assumed they too were newly returned from the war zone.

  After a quick hello to her and Darci, during which Ali could have sworn Darci hiked her boobs a little higher for Zane’s benefit, the guys disappeared out onto the deck with Rick and Jon.

  The bell rang one more time and Darci moved toward the door. “Brody. Chris. Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year to you too.” Chris handed Darci a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. “For the lady of the house.”

  “Aw, thank you. That’s so sweet.”

  “They’re from my brother too. He helped me pick them out.” Grinning, Chris hooked a thumb at his brother.

  Brody rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I shopped all day.”

  Darci laughed. “I’m just happy you’re back and safe, Brody.”

  “Thanks.” Brody glanced around. “Where’s everybody else at?”

  It was a valid question since Ali could see through the front window that the driveway and the curb in front of the house had filled up with vehicles, but by the looks of the house, there were only she and Darci there.

  “Out on the back deck. Go on out, if you want. But tell them the hors d’oeuvres are ready and they’re getting cold.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Will do.” Chris saluted Darci with a grin. He and Brody headed the way Zane and Thom had disappeared, and Ali started to think the party was going to be outside.

  She watched them go and frowned. “Aren’t they cold out there?”

  Darci glanced at the glass door and shrugged. “They’ll be in eventually. Probably catching Rick up on war stories.”

  “Stories they don’t want us to hear.”

  “Apparently not.” Darci adjusted the temperature on the oven, looking unconcerned about the little posse on the deck.

  Ali, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to let the topic go. “But they can tell Rick and Chris, who are both civilians now?”

  “I’m sure they’re not spilling any state secrets or anything. It’s probably some stupid stuff we wouldn’t be interested in anyway.”

  “Hmm, I guess so.” Stupid stories or not, as Ali transferred the hot mini quiches from the baking tray to the platter she was feeling left out.

  Frustrate
d—in so many ways—she popped one of the quiches into her mouth. The diet started tomorrow, not tonight.

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  “No. You’re kidding, right?” Rick shook his head as he glanced around the men circling him on the back deck, the cooler full of beer and bags of ice conveniently at their feet. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Swear to God, dude.” Zane held his hand up like he was taking an oath.

  Jon nodded. “Yup. It’s no lie. We’re supposed to stand outside the door, announce who we are and ask them to put down their weapons and come out with their hands behind their heads.”

  “Wait. So are you supposed to be saying this in Pashto or English?” Rick asked.

  “Pfft. Both.” Brody let out a snort. “The brass wanna make sure they understand.”

  “As if we’re not giving them enough warning.” Thom let out a short laugh. “By the time we tell them in both English and our half-assed Pashto translation, we’ll give them plenty of time to get ready to kill us.”

  “You know, because why shouldn’t we give the fighters inside time to mow us down through the door?” Zane shook his head and took a deep pull on his bottle of beer.

  “So what are you doing? You’re not really following this shit order, are you?”

  Zane screwed up his face at Rick’s question. “Fuck, no.”

  Chris smiled. “Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.”

  Brody blew out a loud breath. “Ain’t no asking for forgiveness or anything else from the grave.”

  “Now guys. You know we’re following orders. We’ve just modified it a bit.” And Jon felt perfectly fine with that.

  “Yup.” Zane nodded. “Now after we blow the door, we shout something close enough to what we’re supposed to say as we’re going in.”

  Chris grinned. “That way y’all can swear that you said it.”

  “Damn right. I’ll swear on my momma’s grave if I have to.” Brody shrugged. “I mean, why not? It ain’t a lie.”

  “Hey, it’s printed right on the SEAL website for all to see. Demand discipline, expect innovation. We’re just innovating.” Grinning, Thom shrugged.

  Rick shook his head. “Jesus, things have changed.”

  Chris let out a burst of air. “You ain’t hardly kidding.”

  “Feeling a little better about getting out now?” Jon asked Rick.

  “Yeah. Surprisingly. After hearing this shit I am.”

  “The good idea fairy is only half of it, man.” Thom shook his head. “They’re so afraid to make any decisions or take any action that we spend half of our time now suited up on standby, waiting for orders.”

  Zane nodded. “Seriously. They had us ready and on standby for one mission for five damn days.”

  Rick let out a slow whistle. “Damn.”

  Chris shook his head. “Makes a man grateful to be a civilian again. And speaking of the advantages of being a civilian, your sister said there’s hot food inside. I don’t know about y’all but I’m fixin’ to get me some.”

  “Yeah. We should go on in.” Rick glanced around the group. “I’ve kept you out here talking when there’s scotch waiting inside.”

  “The scotch is inside and we’re out here?” Chris leveled a gaze at Rick. “Now that right there is a sin.”

  Jon followed the group inside. Food and scotch sounded pretty damn good. He cleared the sliding glass door and spotted Ali right away. She shot him a glance before turning to do something on the counter, which gave him a nice view of her curves. He remembered the feel of those hips beneath his hands and smiled, appreciating the benefits of being home more and more.

  As the other guys moved toward the food, Rick paused next to Jon. “So I didn’t get to ask you before the other guys came outside, but have you and Ali talked?”

  “Sure. We had a lovely conversation when I arrived.”

  Rick shook his head. “You know what I meant. Did you talk while you were over there?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, we didn’t. I told you we agreed before I left that we wouldn’t keep in touch. You know that’s an impossible situation.”

  “You’re back now.”

  “I am.” Jon had a feeling he knew the reason for Rick stating the obvious.

  “So are you gonna start things up again?”

  Jon swiveled his head to gawk at Rick. “When exactly did you become so interested in my personal life?”

  “When I turned in my separation package and was no longer involved in your military life. Wait and see. It’ll happen to you too, when you retire. If you don’t get shot while announcing yourself to the bad guys first.”

  “Real nice. Thanks.” Jon couldn’t help but laugh.

  The razzing was all in good fun. You couldn’t go through the kind of shit he had with these guys and not be as close as blood brothers. Even so, he wasn’t quite ready to admit to Rick that seeing Ali again had put ideas into his head. Imaginings that might possibly become reality if she were willing.

  Jon watched her in the kitchen with Darci, both girls laughing at something Chris had said.

  Would she be willing? He had to wonder. He couldn’t offer her anything more than he had before. A night of fun. Maybe a couple of nights if he saw she was okay with keeping things casual. Very casual, because there was no place in his life right now for anything more than that.

  Rick cracking open the bottle of scotch caught Jon’s attention. He guessed it was time to drink, and not just the beer in his hand.

  As Rick splashed a long shot into each short glass, Jon eyed the sofa and the reclining chair in the room. “I hope you’re planning on a few overnight guests.”

  Chris came around the island and grabbed a glass. “What are y’all lightweights now?”

  “No, but we haven’t had anything stronger than the milk that turned sour in the chow hall for six months,” Jon reminded him.

  “And it’s New Year’s Eve. Every cop on the force is patrolling for drunk drivers,” Thom added.

  “Relax. Everyone is welcome to stay the night. There’s plenty of room. There’s a queen bed in my room and lot’s of floor space and I’ve got a couple of blowup air mattresses in the garage if we need them.”

  Jon snorted, thinking they’d slept some places so shitty they’d make sleeping on Rick’s living room carpet seem like deluxe accommodations at the Ritz.

  “I’ll just crash with Darci in her room if there’s a shortage of space.” Chris winked at Darci.

  Smiling, she shook her head. “Always the joker.”

  Jon raised a brow, wondering how much of it was actually a joke on Chris’s part. But just as how his night with Ali was none of Rick’s business, this was none of his.

  Thom held up his glass and eyed the level of the amber liquid. “Staying the night here sounds damn good to me. Besides not wanting to drive after I drink this, I’m homeless until the weekend anyway. That’s when the barracks manager says a room will be available.”

  “You’re not alone, buddy. There was no room at the inn for me either. You must’ve got on the list before me. They told me it’d be mid-January before I got a room.” Zane sniffed at the glass Rick had handed him, not looking all that concerned he was without accommodations for the next two weeks.

  Jon shook his head at the ongoing housing debacle on base. “You know you can all crash at my place for as long as you need to.”

  “I know and thanks.” Zane tipped his head. “I’ll likely just rent one of those rooms by the night until my turn comes up. Unless of course, some sweet young thing asks me to crash with her for a while.”

  “Pfft.” Thom snorted. “I don’t have Zane’s obvious excess of cash since all my money goes to the ex-wife and I don’t want anything to do with any sweet young things—also thanks to my ex-wife—so I’d be happy to take you up on your generous offer, Jon. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Okay, enough women and housing woes. You�
�ll all stay the night tonight and I’ll cook us breakfast in the morning. But now, it’s time for the toast.” Rick had finished passing out the glasses and stood with his raised.

  Champagne glasses in their hands, Ali and Darci stood way off to the side as observers rather than participants in what had become the team’s tradition a few years back.

  Rick glanced around the group and when every man had his glass held aloft, he said, “To absent friends and fallen brothers.”

  “Absent friends and fallen brothers.” Jon joined the chorus as they echoed the words, then he pressed the glass to his lips. He felt the burn all the way down his throat to his belly. He slammed the empty glass on the counter and blew out a breath. “Phew. Where’s that food you promised? Another shot like that and I’ll be shitty.”

  “Here you go.” Ali moved a platter from the counter to the island.

  One glance at the bite-sized foods made Jon wonder. Mini anything wasn’t going to satisfy a hoard of hungry SEALs for long, but Darci has promised lasagna and he knew from all Rick’s talk that she made a killer one. It had been a long time since he’d had home cooking. Jon’s mouth started to water just at the thought.

  “Try the mini quiches.” Ali gestured toward the tray. “They’re really good.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He grabbed the tiny pastry and popped it into his mouth, wondering if it would be rude to take like six more to hold him over.

  “You’re welcome.” Ali sent him a smile so seductive that Jon began to salivate for a completely different reason than the food.

  He was sex-deprived and riding a home-from-deployment high, but Ali could be a dangerous option to relieve his ache. He thought about her far too much considering it was supposed to have been a fling.

  Rick poured another round of drinks and someone thrust one into Jon’s hand. At this rate he wouldn’t have to worry about making the bad decision to give in to the temptation of a repeat with Ali. He’d be passed out in front of the television in Rick’s easy chair by midnight.

  Jon glanced at Ali and saw the tip of her pretty pink tongue shoot out to catch the melted cheese that ran out of whatever she’d just bit into. As he realized he was standing in the middle of the party with a semi hard-on, he had to think that him being passed out cold might be a good thing.

 

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