Hot SEAL, S*x on the Beach (SEALs in Paradise)

by Delilah Devlin

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to knock on his door.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, I don’t want him to feel intimidated or get wary.” She gave him a wink as she opened her door. “Let me do my job. I got this.”

  She stepped down to the street then pushed up the sleeves of her dark tee and bent at the waist to tousle her hair to make herself look more casual, like someone actually on vacation. Then she loped across the street and up to Padgett’s front door. She knocked.

  When she heard no sounds from inside, she backed up a step and checked the windows. Did one slat in the blinds move? She stepped closer and knocked again. “Mr. Padgett,” she called out pitching her voice a little higher. “Yoo-hoo, Mr. Padgett?”

  The door opened a crack. “Go away.”

  Her breath caught. Well, dang. He was home. There would be no big payday. “Mr. Padgett?”

  Padgett opened the door a little wider and peered at her then looked beyond her at the SUV parked across the street.

  Gina noted that his face was thinner than it had been at the time of his arrest. His eyes looked huge behind his thick glasses.

  “That’s my boyfriend’s vehicle,” she said. “I just wanted to pass a message to you.” From the notes the hunters had made when they’d been actively pursuing the guy, she knew his daughter claimed not to want anything to do with him. She crossed her fingers, hoping that was still true. “I have a message from Adriana.”

  He frowned. “I don’t believe you.”

  Gina smiled. “I’m Marcy’s cousin. She’s one of Adriana’s bridesmaids. Marcy told her I was coming to Cabo for vacation, and she asked me to look you up.”

  His frown deepened. “My daughter and I aren’t speaking,” he said, his voice going gruff.

  Did he miss his daughter? She gave him what she hoped was a sympathetic look, her eyes widening just a bit and her features softening. “You know she’s getting married, right?”

  “To that Johnson boy. I know.”

  “Well, she said, she understands if you can’t come, but she wanted you to know that she’ll miss having you walk her down the aisle.”

  His gaze slipped away. “Well, you’ve told me. Now, you can go.”

  “There’s no way…?”

  He shook his head. “I made my bed. I can’t ever go back. Not until…”

  “But it’s her wedding, sir.”

  “I can’t.”

  Gina glanced around. “I have to say I’m a little surprised you live here.”

  His lips tightened. “Tell her… I wish her well.” The last came out husky.

  Gina almost felt sorry for him. The man had regrets; they were written all over his face. “She’s still hoping you’ll make things right.”

  He blinked. “I’m trying.”

  She looked at the sign in the yard. “You haven’t spent all the money, have you?”

  “Just what I needed to get here.” He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to make more, but it’s hard finding work. Took time to learn Spanish.”

  “But if you have some of the money, you could give it back. Make restitution. And you could see your daughter. You could start by getting to her wedding.”

  He shook his head. “I’d be arrested the second I stepped off a plane or tried to cross the border.”

  Gina bit her lip, thinking. The man wanted a way out. Maybe she could find one. “You know, my boyfriend, Carson, he’s been around here for a little while. And he knows people. He might be able to help.”

  Suspicion shone in his eyes. “Thought you both came here on vacation.”

  Oops. “He left the Navy a few months ago and came here. He’s been trying to convince me to come down here, too, but I’ve just about got him convinced to come up to Montana with me.”

  “Huh.”

  He moved back, and she knew he was going to close the door. “Look, Mr. Padgett. It sounds like you’re not happy here, and I know Adriana wants a chance to have you back in her life… If I could find a way to get you there, would you come?”

  His features tightened, but then his shoulders drooped. “I only took the money because they stole my retirement. Told them the financial planner they hired wasn’t worth a damn. He lost our investment. I’d contributed for years.”

  She nodded. “I don’t know about all that. I do know you’re not a bad man. Not someone out to hurt anyone.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Just wanted what was mine. I hate it here. Don’t have friends. It’s so damn hot. I hate the beach. Thought I’d be living in paradise, but I miss home.”

  Gina gave him an encouraging smile. “You can make this right. If you can give them anything back, you might be able to make a deal.”

  His gaze dropped to his toes. “I’ve been thinking about that—getting a deal. I’m just not sure where to start.”

  Gina could barely contain her excitement. He was on the brink—she just knew it. “Now’s the time, sir. Your daughter needs you.”

  Tears welled in his eyes. “You find me a way, young lady.”

  After he closed the door, she turned and walked slowly back to the vehicle.

  When she climbed inside, Carson said, “Well, he’s here. Guess that’s that.”

  She stayed silent for a long moment, knowing he was watching her. “Um, Carson?”

  He tilted back his head and stared at the ceiling. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t over yet?”

  She turned in her seat. “He wants a way to get back home. He can’t get on a commercial plane or drive to the border, because he doesn’t want to be arrested that way. He wants a chance to do the right thing. He’s still got most of the money, and he’s been trying to make up the rest of what he used. He’s got something to bargain with, but I have to find a way to get him across the border.”

  “You want to smuggle him across?” His eyebrows shot toward his hairline.

  “Yes. He’d get what he wants—to see his daughter and to get a chance to make a deal on his terms—and my agency would get what they want—the bounty, without an illegal extradition.”

  Carson held still, staring at her. “I might know a guy. He’s shady as hell, but he might be able to get us across the border. No questions. But he’ll want to be paid up front.”

  She gave him a big smile and flung herself against him to give his cheek a big, smacking kiss. “I’ll call Fetch.”

  Chapter 8

  That night, Carson sat in the rear of a six-seater Beechcraft turbo-prop, wondering how in hell Gina had pulled this off.

  With only a few hours to make arrangements, she’d managed to get the money wired that his contact Fuego Cassidy said was his price for flying “under the radar” into the U.S.

  When Carson had approached him with the idea, Fuego had given him a big smile that stretched his thick handlebar mustache. “Now, why would you think I’m the guy?”

  Carson had arched a brow. “You told me once, after we’d finished off a bottle of mescal, that you didn’t need to file ‘no stinkin’ flight plans’. That you could land on a dirt road no bigger than a donkey trail. I figured any man who’d say that had probably done it a time or two.”

  Fuego had laughed, and then named his price for a “no questions asked” flight. The price had been exorbitant, and Carson had been sure that would be the end of it. However, Gina’s boss hadn’t choked. Which told Carson, the reward had to be good.

  That got him thinking about bounty hunting. When he’d first considered looking for work, he’d leaned toward private spec ops companies that contracted with government agencies for black work or who hired out to insurance companies for K&R work. He’d even considered private protection work. All possibilities were within his skill set. Bounty hunting hadn’t been on his list, and wouldn’t ever have been considered, because the pay wasn’t steady, and a hunter wasn’t going after world-class bad guys.

  However, Gina’s enthusiasm for her job was palpable. Just wa
tching the way she’d finessed Padgett onto this plane had been pretty damn impressive.

  Carson had thought for sure that when they returned to Padgett’s house, they’d find that he’d pulled up stakes and run, knowing people knew where he was. Instead, the minute Gina skipped up to his front door, excitement shining in her eyes, Padgett pulled an ancient Samsonite case from beside the door and stepped out, ready to begin his trip home.

  Padgett had trusted her sincerity. She’d made him promises, and Carson had no doubt she’d do her best to keep them. Once the plane had left the private strip outside Cabo, Gina had sat beside the man and told him who she really was.

  Padgett hadn’t looked surprised. When she’d finished, his only question was, “Will I get to see my daughter?”

  Thankfully, Gina knew the answer to that, too. She’d had Fetch send a hunter to Adriana Padgett’s home to tell her that her father was returning, because he missed her. Adriana had broken down and cried. In the end, she’d only wanted him to do the right thing.

  “I taught her right from wrong,” Padgett said, his voice raised so he could be heard over the engine. “Always hated that she thought I was a hypocrite.”

  “My agency has arranged for you to meet her in Colorado in two days. She’s driving down to a hotel there. You’ll get to spend an evening with her, just the two of you, before we drive you to Kalispell where you’ll be booked into the jail.” Gina patted his arm. “She’s already promised to visit you there.”

  Carson hoped they’d manage to elude detection crossing the border. Hell, he hoped Fuego made it to the strip outside of Tucson without running out of fuel. When Carson had expressed doubt they’d make the 650-mile flight, Fuego had clapped his shoulder. “I got extra reserve tanks, man. No worries.”

  Which got Carson to wondering why the ex-pat pilot made a habit of carrying extra fuel when his business supposedly catered to tourists who liked aerial flights over the Baja Peninsula.

  Suspicions aroused, he glanced back at the boxes that had already been loaded when the passengers boarded the plane. Cardboard boxes of varying sizes. Duct tape closing the flaps. He hoped like hell that Fuego wasn’t bringing some kind of contraband into the U.S., namely drugs. They were already in the air. Too late to do anything about it, now.

  But he was glad he’d decided at the last minute to strap on the holster he always kept in his glove box. Senses prickling, no way could he do as Gina and Padgett were doing now—sleeping. He’d keep an eye out and make sure Fuego delivered them to their destination without any trouble.

  Gina woke, and then wondered why. She sat up, a yawn stretching her jaws to ease the changing pressure in her ears. They were descending. Below them, she could make out pinpoints of light on the ground, like stars on a patchwork quilt.

  She leaned over the pilot’s shoulder. “We have much longer?”

  “Ten minutes at most,” Fuego said, casting a quick, darting smile over his shoulder.

  She didn’t know why, but something about the guy was off. Carson had warned her he wasn’t sure their pilot was a hundred percent legit, but they’d needed someone willing to spirit a criminal over the border without law enforcement being any wiser. They couldn’t hire Captain Lilywhite.

  Thankfully, she only had ten more minutes to worry. Fetch had promised that he’d have folks waiting at the airstrip when they landed for the handoff of the prisoner.

  She really ought to be feeling good about this job. Padgett was going to have his day in court. The agency would get a big payday, of which she’d get a very nice chunk of change for being instrumental in his surrender.

  Still, she felt sorry for the older man. He’d made a very bad decision when his head hadn’t been in the right place. He’d stolen money he’d thought he deserved. The law wouldn’t agree, but he’d already paid a big cost, disappointing his family and living in exile. She just hoped the judge would be lenient, seeing as he was ready to return over $800,000 of what he’d taken.

  All in all, a very successful day. But something still niggled. A remnant of her “spidey” sense that had flourished when she’d served, and that had kept her frosty for the only two engagements with the enemy she’d had. She’d been the one to radio her unit that something was wrong inside the small town they’d entered. It had been too quiet. Goose bumps had prickled. As they did now.

  When Fuego put on his headset and began speaking in a low voice to whomever was on the other end, she could only wonder who the heck he was talking to. Weren’t they supposed to be sneaking across the border? Had Fuego double-crossed them so he could take Padgett and claim the reward?

  She glanced behind her to find that Carson was sitting forward in his seat, frowning, too.

  He leaned toward her ear. “Something’s not right.”

  Damn, she’d hoped she was the only one feeling uneasy. “Yeah, I’ve got a bad feeling, too. I’m really glad I agreed to only pay him half up front.”

  Carson’s lips tightened. “I think he’s got some dangerous cargo.”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “The boxes behind me. I think he may be running drugs.”

  Her eyes widened. “Holy crap.” What the hell had she gotten them into?

  He reached out and cupped her cheek. “No heroics. If we’re lucky, we’ll land, and we won’t see a thing. Maybe he intends to meet his contacts after he gets us to our destination. But when we do get to our strip, we’ll need to move off the plane as quick as we can. Your people will be there. I don’t think he means us harm, but I don’t like the idea of meeting his friends, or being busted by the border police, sitting on pounds of who knows what.”

  “Jesus.” She closed her eyes for a second. “I really am a bad luck charm.”

  “Not your fault, Gina.” He grimaced. “It’s mine. I’m the one who reached out to him.”

  “Because of me. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened—”

  “What?” Padgett said from across the aisle, straightening in his seat and rubbing a hand over his face. “Something wrong?”

  She glanced at Carson then gave Padgett a small smile. “We’ll be touching down soon.”

  “Good. Good.”

  Carson patted her shoulder then sat back, his gaze going to the small window beside him.

  Gina drew a deep breath and did the same. She’d been a little disappointed when Fetch had insisted on sending down a team to bring Padgett the rest of the way. Maybe she’d wanted the fanfare of delivering him to jail. A chance to redeem herself with the men she worked with. Although, Fetch had truly seemed very happy with her ploy to convince Padgett to get onto the plane. His praise had made her feel very appreciated.

  Now, she wondered if she’d screwed up so royally she herself would end up on the wrong side of the law.

  The plane continued descending over a dark landscape with lights spaced far apart. How could that be when they were supposed to be landing on a small private strip outside of Tucson? She wanted to ask Fuego about that, but he was busy with switches and levers. Lowering flaps, she supposed. And wheels. Not a great time to ask him whether he’d tricked them.

  When they set down, it wasn’t on any strip she’d ever imagined. For one, the ground was rough, and they bumped along, sometimes lifting into the air, before setting down again. And the lights at the end of the strip looked like the high beams of a couple of vehicles. A small square shack sat off to the side of the track. She dug her fingers into the arms of her seat. She’d know in a few minutes whether they were in trouble.

  At last, the plane slowed to a stop. Fuego stood and strode down the narrow space between the seats. “You stay in your seats,” he said.

  When he stepped beside Carson, he rose. “Buddy? What’s happening?”

  “Just a little stop. Don’t exit the plane. We’ll be on our way again in five.”

  He reached for the boxes behind Carson then made his way clumsily back up the aisle to the door. Then balancing the stacked boxes in one arm,
he reached for the handle and opened the door.

  The sound of vehicles approaching entered the cabin, and Gina glanced back at Carson.

  He stood and stepped between her and Padgett’s seats. “Don’t move,” he said, then bent low and moved toward the cockpit of the plane to watch.

  Gina slipped downward in her seat and peered out the window. Two men met Fuego. One reached for the boxes and moved to place them in the back of a pickup.

  Just when Fuego held out his hand for something, payment maybe, Padgett sneezed—loudly.

  The man in front of Fuego stared at the plane for a moment and then erupted, shouting at Fuego. Then he pulled a weapon from the holster at his side and shot him.

  As Fuego crumpled to the ground, Gina clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back a scream. Beside her, Padgett gasped. She turned her head. “Shhh.” Then she looked back outside.

  The men moved toward the plane.

  Carson darted back from the cockpit and stood to the side of the open doorway. “I’m armed,” he shouted. “Just get in your vehicles and go.”

  Instantly, the two men ran in opposite directions, circling behind the vehicles and taking up positions. More shots rang out, pinging against the side of the plane, one ripping through the metal to thud against a chair.

  Gina raised her phone and quickly hit Fetch’s number on speed dial then brought up the GPS app on her screen.

  “Yeah, Gina,” Fetch said. “We’re all in place.”

  “There’s a problem. We set down somewhere else. The plane’s taking fire. Got coordinates.” She read them off.

  Seconds dragged by, then, “You’re about eight miles for our location. We’re coming.”

  “Fetch is on the way,” she said to Carson.

  “You two get on the floor,” Carson whispered. “The hull of this plane is pretty thin. Don’t want you hit.”