SEAL Brotherhood Lucas

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Ryan’s right. You’re much better off playing the field.”

  They all turned their heads when Rory screamed, “Fuckin’ A” so loud it nearly rattled the windows. The video game was getting lots of attention. The noise made it difficult to talk, so the three bachelors retired to Lucas and Jake’s bedroom.

  “In time, it goes away, and then you wonder what the big deal was,” said Jake, pulling from a bag of chips.

  “What goes away?” Lucas wondered.

  “You know, dreaming about your ex, and trying to get back together. That goes away in time.”

  “What about your kids, Jake?” Lucas had identified what the real pain was.

  “I get to see them. They’re actually happier to see me when they don’t see me every day. Our times are special now. And they can’t say no.”

  Lucas had to laugh again. “You should see mine. Connie’s scared the shit out of them. They cry whenever –well I’ve only seen them once since the—the—”

  “You just got served man. You haven’t had enough time for them to adjust. Now for another piece of advice?” Jake started. “Get back in good with that Realtor, and make Connie jealous. She’ll start trying to get you back, Lucas. Women like a little competition.”

  “You don’t know Connie.”

  “No. Sadly, no,” Ryan said.

  Lucas threw his beer at him and the arc of amber liquid sprayed across Jake’s chest. It started a pileon—Jake was on Lucas immediately and then Ryan jumped the pile, causing them all to hit the floor.

  Rory and Jeffrey appeared and quickly separated the brawl by pulling Jake and Ryan up to standing position, then shoving them out into the common area between the two bedrooms.

  Lucas tore himself off the bed, straightened the mattress that had been dislodged from its base. He wanted to watch some news, feeling a little isolated from the rest of the world, but the game players were monopolizing the big screen. Depending on how long they were there, another TV might be in order to satisfy all camps.

  Kyle and the rest of the men who had gone with him up to the hills made their entrance. Kyle headed for the bedroom he shared with Coop, who was burdened with some equipment in a pack that looked heavy. In his other hand, he held a camera with long lens attached. Lucas walked over to his LPO, leaning into the doorway. Kyle sat at a makeshift desk, and was writing some notes, copying some measurements from a crumpled piece of paper they’d prepared in the field.

  “What’s up, Chief?” Lucas asked, but he looked at Cooper.

  “No sign of Rushti. Kind of a quiet day,” Coop said. Kyle’s back was to the two of them, until he turned around to face them.

  “I gotta call CentCom, gentlemen. I’m gonna need a little privacy.”

  “Sure thing.” Coop set the equipment on a table against the wall, which also housed three black duty bags Lucas knew to be filled with ammo and IEDs. Lucas entered the hallway with Cooper right behind him, closing the door.

  “We saw him though, right? I mean they know that back in San Diego?”

  “And D.C.”

  “You know what the plan is?”

  Cooper grinned.

  “There is a plan, right?”

  “Oh yeah, there’s a plan.”

  “Spill.”

  They heard the hallway door open. Lacey and several members of the soccer team sauntered in, freshly washed, looking lovely, and smelling even lovelier. Lucas momentarily forgot his question to Cooper, until the giant stepped on his big toe.

  “The plan is that we focus on what the plan is, young froglet. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

  Several of the girls shuffled slowly past them, their running shoes barely making a sound. Cooper nodded. Lucas mumbled, “Ladies.”

  “We weren’t sure we’d be welcome after today’s game,” started Lacey. She gave Lucas a wink.

  Jake and Ryan had joined the group. “Apology accepted. But you owe us,” Jake said. The two accompanied the girls to the living room/kitchen. Rory demonstrated the new video toy.

  Coop cleared his throat. “So the plan is that we don’t do anything to provoke them. Can’t do a damned thing until we get the okay. Now, if they pick a fight, well then, all bets are off.”

  “You don’t think they’d be stupid enough to—”

  “Stupid’s got nothing to do with it, Lucas. They’re worked up with the heavenly fever, I call it. That knife cuts both ways.”

  “That it does,” Kyle said behind Coop. “We stop talking about this right now. We have company.”

  “Roger that,” Coop said. “Lucas, you hang with Kyle and I and stay away from those friends of yours or you’ll go crazy. There’s a reason they’re single and we’re married.”

  Lucas thought about the comment from Jake about being better off, and he agreed with his buddy one hundred percent. That’s when he decided Cooper wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought he was when it came to women. Eventually, he’d find out.

  Chapter 28

  ‡

  DEVON AND MARCY rode together to Devon’s office for a scheduled appointment with her Broker/Manager.

  “I know about Coronado Bay. Good company. We’ve shared referrals over the years, although we don’t get many coming up here from San Diego,” Ted told the two women.

  “Just want to be totally honest and above-board,” Marcy began. “I made a terrible mistake, and this lapse in judgment isn’t something I’m very known for. I’ve never been close to this. Ever. I think this couple just rattled me. I’ve worked with very high-end and powerful people, Admirals, CEOs and heads of hospitals who are used to hiring and firing doctors, and never had a problem.”

  Ted smiled. “Well, Devon’s husband is the exception, of course, but most these guys are pretty wound up tight. I can see where that would bring some extra tension into an already stressful situation.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “So is there any fall-out about all this? Are you being sued? The company being sued? Anything like that and I need to know? Anything that comes up, I have t be kept in the loop.”

  “Of course. No. Nothing like that. I’ve turned over all my listings to another agent in the office, as instructed. I have nothing that should pull me back there. I need—” Marcy’s left eye twitched as she stared down at the carpeting. “I want,” she corrected, “to make a fresh start of it. I know Devon. I hope to make friends and get involved in the community and perhaps forget I was ever in San Diego. Besides, it’s lovely up here.”

  “It is. Don’t let the people fool you. Lots of money here. We are what they call the blue jeans tofu crowd.”

  All three of them chuckled.

  “Down south, they try to show their opulence. Opposite up here. We don’t like that sort of thing. We hate scandal, drama, too much rushing around, being cutthroat or unfair. Most agents here don’t care how much they do, as long as they do it right. And I couldn’t agree more. Lucky, really, to live here.”

  “I can see that. Well, if you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to join your team.”

  “I think you’d fit in well, Marcy. Welcome aboard.” He leaned over the desk and gave her a firm handshake. “I’ll have the Independent Contractor agreement drafted for you in the morning, and of course we’ll have to request your license.”

  Marcy held out her business card for him to get the broker address and her license number. “That’s my cell.”

  “You want a desk here? Or, are you working out of Devon’s house, like she does?”

  Marcy smiled at her friend. “I’m going to impose as little as possible on Devon and Nick, although I’ll be staying there until I can find my own place. So yes, assign me a desk and I’ll try to start as soon as it’s arranged. That way I’ll be around your staff and people who can show me what to do until I learn.

  They got up to leave, shaking the Broker’s hand, and he tilted his head to the side. “You still seeing the SEAL?”

  “Well, he’s on deployment, but no, I don’t think so. Part o
f the reason I need a fresh start.”

  “I understand completely. It’s a shame, Marcy. Sorry for all this mess. But I figure you’ll want to get busy to bring in some income. That works for me.”

  The two women had lunch downtown at an open-air pizza restaurant, watching people, sitting in the late autumn sun.

  “I’m going to go looking for a place to stay, Devon. I intend not to be a burden to you guys.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been through a lot—”

  “Everything of my own making.”

  “Yes, that’s true, but what kind of a friend would I be to dump you out on your own? You take as long as you want. Why don’t you start making some calls for me? We could share the listings, if you get the appointments for me. We can work as a team.”

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “Now you’re just being silly. I’ve got phone lists at home. You could even get started today, if you wanted.”

  Devon stopped for a newspaper, handing the classified section over to Marcy to search for properties.

  At home, Marcy called on several rental cabins. Not being familiar with the area, she ran the addresses by Devon, who immediately eliminated those that she wouldn’t find to her liking. Marcy was left alone when Nick returned and took Devon shopping.

  Her rental car had GPS, so when she found a cabin up in the woods near Lucas’ cabin, she decided to head up to Cloverdale area and check it out. Along the freeway she passed rows of vineyards, splaying out in order, leaves beginning to turn yellow and red at their tips. Assorted white tents were set up in the rows as a sun shield for field workers picking the grapes for harvest. Underneath the green and golden leaves, the grown was a rich charcoal color. Bins of grapes stacked up between rows. Several large estate wineries were perched like crystals atop rolling golden hillsides.

  Cloverdale came up soon after. The two lane road through the center of town was nearly devoid of traffic. A dog made his way across the highway, barely glancing in Marcy’s direction, sensing she’d slow down and let him cross without him having to make a run for it.

  Before she made it off the highway, she stopped for a coffee. Espresso machines squealed their protest. The heavily tatted barista was playing light jazz in the background. Marcy examined artwork hung along the bright orange walls of the little coffee house. A lending library stood in the corner with a full two rows of books, several of the romance. It was a place she could sit and think about things, on another day when she wasn’t on a mission. Some day, when she could ponder the complexities of life. She got in her car and headed left when she passed the outskirts of the town, as her GPS had instructed.

  The drive through the redwoods was lush and green. Unlike the scrubby oak and madrone wilderness where Lucas’ family home was located, this area was cooler, closer to the ocean by a few miles, the damp green carpet of foliage making a perfect place for a nap in the forest. The tall trees were thicker and let in little light. The road soon turned to a red-brown color. Her GPS instructed to go further, when all of a sudden, something hit her rear bumper from behind. She dared not look into the rear view mirror since she was having so much difficulty maneuvering her car, but one quick glance and she saw a dirty white van with tinted windshield. In the limited light from the forest, she couldn’t tell who was driving. The van continued to push her car as she fishtailed in front of it. Unable to keep up with the switching back and forth. Eventually she was forced off the road, down a small embankment and into the path of a redwood tree.

  In a flash of color, she saw the impact. Her windshield cracked and burst forth into a rain of crystals while her head was forced into the steering wheel, and then ripped backward from the impact of the crash. The airbags deployed before her head could hit the steering wheel a second time.

  The last thing she heard was a door opening with a squeak. It wasn’t from her vehicle. She smelled gasoline and wondered if she’d be able to move if the auto should catch fire. Black spots appeared in front of her eyes. She felt something warm trickle from the side of her mouth as her forehead pressed into the sticky wet plastic of the white airbag. Blackness shrouded her in a deafening silence.

  Chapter 29

  ‡

  LUCAS TRIED HIS hand at Jeffrey’s game after dinner. He noted Donna was sitting just a little too close to him, and her thigh stretched the length of his. While he didn’t think she meant anything by it, he also felt it was more than a sexual advance. Her close proximity, her scent, the way she laughed and so expertly worked the controls of the game when it was her turn, and competitively tried to beat him at every round, intrigued him. But he also felt something dark was looming just under her surface. She wasn’t a woman to talk much, and she’d been blabbing all evening, and drinking more beer than he’d seen her do the previous two days.

  Something had shifted. She trusted him. He wondered if that was very wise.

  Kyle went outside to greet someone who drove up in what sounded like a large diesel truck. Lucas tried to angle a way to see through the building windows, but couldn’t make out who it was.

  “The barn builder,” Coop said.

  Lucas excused himself and followed Cooper outside. When Boles laid eyes on them, he didn’t smile or extend his hand like he had in the shop.

  “You guys got a lot of fuckin’ nerve getting me to come out here after dinner. Urgent, you said. What the fuck’s so urgent about this place? This is government land. I don’t want any of that goddamned paperwork filled out in quadruplicate cluttering up my system. I deal with small time rural farmers.” His face was bright red. One eye had a popped blood vessel, which was new. Lucas saw he could have a temper. “I don’t have to wait months and months for my cash. I get it before or the day of installation.”

  “We had to do it this way, sir,” Coop started in. He peered over at Kyle, asking for help. They’d not discussed him coming over today. Kyle must have gotten the urgent call from Forsythe and made the invite himself.

  His LPO sat down on a picnic table, leaned into his thighs and spoke slowly to the man, who was scanning the scene in front of him. Boles scratched the back of his neck and breathed hard like he had a medical issue.

  “We’re looking for information about our neighbor over the hill there.” Kyle pointed to the ridge of dark green trees casually. By the way he studied the builder, Lucas could see he didn’t trust him either.

  “Not sure what you mean by that, son.”

  “You know, the people who have the little group thing over the hill. You’ve been there I’m sure. You helped them build it, am I right?”

  “Of course. But if you think I’m going to go gossip about them—you guys have no right coming in here under false pretenses. I keep to myself. I don’t ask questions and I certainly fuckin’ don’t answer any asshole’s questions unless I got a good reason to do so.”

  Kyle stood up and was toe-to-toe with the man. The contractor’s belly pushed into Kyle’s abdomen but neither man backed up. “I got a good reason. Trust me I got a good reason,” Kyle said between his teeth.

  Boles managed to take a step back. “You guys military? You look military. What, we gonna have a fuckin’ war on our hands here in the great state of Tennessee?

  “Not if we can help it sir, and that’s where you come in.” Kyle’s voice was practiced and gentle. Calming. It did little good.

  “Like I said, I don’t want any trouble.”

  “And we’re not looking for trouble either,” answered Kyle.

  Boles scanned the three of their faces. He nearly jumped out of his pants when the back door to the building opened and out poured several SEALs. Lacey came behind them, kicking a soccer ball. Two of her teammates had removed their jerseys, exposing their sports bras underneath, and stuck the tshirts inside the backs of their pants. The SEALs were bare chested, having tucked their shirts in similar fashion. Within seconds a lively pickup game of grab ass ensued, both sides trying to capture jerseys while others members attempting to bur
y the soccer ball into the post nets on either side. One goal was well defended, the other had no keeper.

  Fredo had been on the sidelines and at last jumped in. With his speed and superior ball handling skills, he was dodging other players and easily scored a goal. He was on his way to scoring a second, when Chloe tackled him and left him limping for a bench.

  “Who the hell are all these?” Boles finally asked.

  “U.S. Navy Women’s Soccer Team,” Kyle answered.

  “Navy, huh? So you guys are Navy?” Boles squinted into the remaining sunlight. The lights on the field came on as the dusk sensors kicked in.

  “Um hum,” Kyle answered him and didn’t break his line of sight.

  “Fuckin special forces. That’s what you are.” The builder spit on the ground.

  Lucas cracked his neck again and all three turned quickly, alarm written all over their faces.

  Kyle refocused on Boles. “So all we want is information.” He brought a picture from his vest. “This man. Did you see this man?”

  “Never saw him before.”

  Lucas didn’t believe him. The telltale widening of the eyes before his uber-quick response told him the contractor had seen him, maybe even talked with him.

  “Try again,” Coop said as he picked up the contractor by his western style denim shirt. Lucas heard a loud rip in the fabric. His feet nearly dragged in the dirt although he probably outweighed Coop by forty pounds. Coop let loose of him, brushing the fabric flat against the man’s chest. “I apologize for ruining your pretty shirt. I’ll see to it Uncle Sam brings you another one.”

  “Get your fuckin’ hands off me. You think I’m stupid?” Boles adjusted his clothes, stepping back for a safe distance.

  Kyle looked at Cooper and then to Lucas and shrugged. All of them shook their heads. “No sir,” Lucas said. “None of us thinks you’re stupid. That’s why you’re gonna cooperate with us.”

  “This isn’t fuckin’ Afghanistan or Iraq. You can’t just come in here and manhandle me!” His voice was attracting attention from the field. Fredo limped over to add assistance. Two of the girls stopped and put their hands on their hips. Even Chloe stopped, holding the ball at her hip with one palm.