Hot SEAL, Salty Dog

by Elle James

  “And what do you consider life? Marriage, children, a house with a white picket fence?” Maggie asked while staring down at her feet.

  “I don’t know exactly. I hope I’ll know it when I see it. For the most part, I wanted a life where I wasn’t being shot at. Where I could ride horses and smell the pine sap. I’d kept in touch with Trevor after he left the military. He went to work in Montana for another SEAL buddy of ours. He’s been pulling bodyguard assignments. For the most part, they sounded a lot less stressful or dangerous than the missions we’d spent the better part of almost half our lives conducting. Do you know I’ve never learned to fish?”

  “Never fished? Even I’ve learned to fish. My father took us fishing at our Uncle Andy’s pond every summer until I grew up and moved out of my parents’ house.” Maggie smiled, her gaze on the stainless-steel walls of the elevator’s interior.

  “My father owned his own machine shop. He rarely took off. And when he did, my mother had a list of chores and things to fix. There never seemed to be time to go fishing or camping like other families did. I wanted that, and I wasn’t getting it as a Navy SEAL.

  “When one of my friends was killed on a mission, it hit too close to home. It could have been me. I could have died, never having learned to fish.” He grinned as the elevator door opened. “I’ve scheduled a deep-sea fishing trip with Trevor three days from now.”

  “You’ll love it. Unlike fishing in my uncle’s pond, where many times we came up empty, most deep-sea fishing trips guarantee you’ll catch something.” She laughed. “My father took me and my brother fishing off the Texas coast one summer. I caught a small octopus, and my brother caught a six-foot nurse shark.” Her smile continued, even after she stopped talking. The smile softened her features.

  Chase liked it when she smiled. It made his own heart feel lighter, which made him want to make her smile more often. “Well, that’s why I stepped away from the military. I wanted to do those things.”

  Maggie’s brow’s wrinkled. “So, you came to Cabo to fish?”

  “I came to Cabo to learn how to relax and have a real vacation.” The elevator stopped on the ground level, and Chase stepped out first, checking the lobby for any signs of someone who might hurt Maggie. “Come on. Let’s go out the back door.” Again, he took her hand and led her out the back door of the lobby. It led to a tiki-style bar and grill on the back patio. “Trevor and I had dinner and came back to the hotel to have a drink.” He laid his hands on the bar. “At this bar.”

  Maggie’s eyes lit up. “That’s what we did. Gina and I ditched our bags as soon as we arrived and came down here. I skipped eating and went straight for the hard stuff.” She grimaced. “I can’t believe I downed so many shots with nothing else in my stomach.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t end up with alcohol poisoning.”

  She nodded. “I never drink that much. The most I drink back in the States is an occasional glass of wine.”

  “So, you had too much. Do you remember anything after that?” Chase asked.

  She closed her eyes and thought. “They were playing some music.”

  The bartender stopped in front of them. “What would you like to drink?” he asked.

  “No tequila,” Maggie said too fast and laughed. “How about a Bahama Mama?”

  Chase ordered a beer.

  When the bartender set their drinks in front of them, Chase hit him up with a question. “Did you work here last night?”

  The bartender nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, good.” Maggie leaned across the counter. “What do you remember about us?”

  The man frowned. “You were wearing a red dress.” His frown cleared, and he pointed at Chase. “You were giving the señora lessons on how to salsa.”

  Maggie’s gaze whipped to Chase. “Him? He was teaching me how to dance to salsa music? Do you even know how to salsa dance?”

  Chase shrugged. “My dad didn’t have time to teach his sons to fish, but my mother took the time to make sure her boys could dance. And she loved the rhythm of the salsa, more than the foxtrot or polka.”

  The bartender laid the check on the counter.

  Chase paid the tab with his credit card.

  When the bartender gave him a receipt, Chase shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. That’s when he felt the crinkle of more paper in his right pocket. He pulled out the wadded slip and read the date on the paper. It had been printed the day before, but the name on the top of the receipt was barely legible.

  “Can you read this?” He handed the receipt to Maggie.

  “I don’t know.” Maggie’s eyes narrowed as she studied the print. “It could say ‘Cabo Wabo’…”

  “That’s the bar on the beach,” the bartender said. “Mi hermano, my brother, is the bartender there. I sent you there after you won the salsa contest here.”

  “Salsa contest?” Maggie’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t know how to salsa.”

  The bartender’s eyes widened. “You danced like a true Mexicana.” The man raised one hand, cupped his ample belly with the other and moved his feet in the traditional moves of the salsa dance. “Fuiste magnífico!”

  “But I don’t know how to salsa dance,” Maggie insisted.

  Chase’s lips twitched. “But I do.” He took her hand, pulled her against him and showed her.

  At first her body was stiff against his, but soon, she moved to the rhythm of Chase’s feet, following him perfectly. What his mind couldn’t remember, his body did. “We’ve danced together,” he murmured. He spun her out and back into his arms.

  Her eyes widened. “We have! How could I forget this? I’ve always wanted to learn to dance like this. How did you know?”

  “My mother always regretted my father was never around to learn how to dance with her. The woman was on a mission to make sure her boys didn’t disappoint the ladies.” He danced a few more steps with her and brought her to a stop in his arms. He liked that she didn’t pull free immediately. Maggie was a perfect fit for his height. She wasn’t too short or too tall, and her curves met his planes just right.

  “Kudos to your mother. She knew what a woman wants. So many men don’t even bother to learn how to dance.” Her cheeks flushed, and she stepped away from him. “But that’s not enough to make me want to marry a stranger. Although it puts you right up there in my books.”

  “Didn’t your fiancé take you dancing?” Chase asked.

  “Never. He didn’t have a rhythmic bone in his body.” She snorted. “He even refused to take a lesson to be ready for the first dance at our wedding.”

  “Not the man for you,” Chase said. “You’re a natural dancer. Did you take lessons?”

  She nodded. “My mother had me in dance class by the time I turned four.”

  “I can tell.” He cupped her cheek. “I’ve danced with a lot of women but none as fluid at it as you.”

  The color in her cheeks deepened as she stared up into his eyes. “Thank your mother for me. I’ve never danced with anyone who could lead.”

  He took her arm and led her toward the garden and the rear exit of the resort. “Maybe, after our annulment, you and I could go dancing.”

  Maggie nodded. “I’d like that. We’ll be here a week.”

  “Same here. Trevor’s woman is supposed to join us today. Once she arrives, I doubt I’ll see him for the rest of my stay.”

  “Knowing Gina, she’ll be occupied with Carson for the duration of our visit.”

  Chase emerged from the back garden onto a sidewalk where he pulled out his cellphone and looked up the bar on the receipt. “It appears to be three miles from here. We can walk or catch a—”

  Before he finished his sentence, a taxi pulled to a halt in front of him.

  Chase cocked his eyebrows and waved toward the cab. “After you.”

  Maggie slid into the cab and scooted over. “Cabo Wabo, please.”

  Once Chase got in and closed the door, the driver shot out into traffic. He swerved around another
vehicle, slinging Chase and Maggie sideways.

  Chase nearly crushed Maggie against the opposite door. He righted himself. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I think our driver has a death wisshh—”

  The cab swerved back into the opposite lane, flinging Maggie across Chase’s lap.

  Chase gripped her hips and held on as the driver weaved in and out of the traffic in jerky motions.

  The cab quickly screeched to a halt in front of the Cabo Wabo. Chase leaped from the cab and pulled Maggie out and into his arms.

  She clung to him until she got her footing, and then stepped away.

  Chase had to admit, he liked having her splayed across his lap for the majority of the five-minute ride. He leaned into the cab and paid the cab driver, who hit the accelerator almost taking Chase’s arm with him,

  Chase jumped back, shaking his head.

  Maggie chuckled. “Who needs a roller coaster when you have cab drivers like that?”

  “I hope all the drivers aren’t that aggressive,” Chase said.

  “I don’t know.” Maggie tilted her head as she studied the disappearing taxi. “It certainly added to the Cabo adventure.”

  Chase laughed. “As if dancing with a stranger, waking up with him in your bed and finding out you’re married to him isn’t enough adventure?”

  “That ride ranked right up there with the rest. I wasn’t sure we’d arrive at our destination. Alive.”

  “You have a point.” Chase grinned. “Let’s walk back. Three miles is just a stretch of the legs.”

  “Agreed.”

  Chase took her hand and walked into the Cabo Wabo. After having her in his lap for the duration of the cab ride, holding her hand seemed natural. Her palm was warm and dry, and her fingers laced with his, delicate, yet strong. He liked the way she felt at his side. He might even miss the woman once they annulled their wedding.

  * * *

  Maggie was all too aware of the strong hand gripping hers. The man could easily crush her fingers in his, but he didn’t. She should have let go and stepped away, but she didn’t. She liked the way his grip felt…firm, like he could handle anything thrown his way.

  As soon as they entered the bar, a voice called out, “Flannigan!”

  After being in the glaring sun, Maggie had to blink several times before her vision adjusted to the dim lighting of the interior. An ample-breasted, older Hispanic woman hobbled toward Chase with a decided limp, her arms opened wide.

  Chase didn’t have time to dodge her or move out of the way. Suddenly, he was engulfed in a what appeared to be a bone-crushing hug.

  “Mi amigo,” the woman cried. She spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, none of which Maggie understood.

  A younger woman followed. She appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties. “Mi madre said she is very happy you returned today. She is very thankful you helped her yesterday when she fell outside on the street. No one else offered to help. Muchas gracias, Señor Flannigan.”

  The older woman spoke again, winked at Chase and nodded with a smile toward Maggie.

  Maggie frowned, wishing she’d taken the time to learn more Spanish.

  “Mi madre says you are gentleman, and your lovely bride is very lucky to have such a handsome husband.”

  Chase slipped an arm around Maggie. “What is your name?”

  “Teresa,” the young woman responded.

  “Thank you, Teresa. You speak English fluently.” Chase gave the younger woman a smile that melted Maggie’s knees and made her wish he’d directed it at her.

  Based on how pink Teresa’s cheeks turned, she was equally affected.

  “And your mother’s name?” Chase asked.

  “Delores Hernandez,” the daughter said.

  Chase took the older woman’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Señora Hernandez, you have a beautiful daughter, and you are very welcome. De nada.”

  Her daughter’s blush deepened, and she stammered a little as she translated, making the older woman’s smile stretch across her face.

  Señora Hernandez motioned for them to continue on into the establishment.

  “She welcomes you back to the Cabo Wabo,” Teresa said. “And offers to provide your food and drinks. Usted no tiene que pagar.”

  “Tell her thank you, but we came to ask questions. You see, we don’t remember much about what happened last night while we were here. We had hoped someone could remind us, and, maybe, we’ll remember.”

  Teresa waved toward the bar at the center of the room. “Juan was here last night after my mother left. He will be able to answer your questions.”

  Maggie marveled at how the Navy SEAL charmed the two ladies, both older and younger. When he turned those incredibly blue eyes and his killer smile on someone, she could see how someone could fall in love with him in seconds.

  Was that what had happened? Had he smiled at her and turned her knees to mush? Because, even though he was using his charm on the other women, it affected her as well.

  The thought made her frown. She wasn’t supposed to be falling for the guy. She was supposed to be discovering how they’d ended up married, why someone was threatening them and how they could end their short-lived marriage. Maggie squared her shoulders and crossed to the bartender.

  “Buenos días, Juan,” Maggie said with a smile. “Do you remember us from last night?”

  The bartender grinned. “Sí, si.” He nodded toward her. “Maggie and Chase.” He spread his arms wide. “Mis amigos. What can I get you?”

  “We’re having a hard time remembering what happened last night,” Maggie said.

  Juan nodded and winked. “Ah, the tequila. You two had several shots while here.”

  “We did?” Maggie cringed. No wonder her head still hurt.

  “Sí, and then the señor started the conga line.”

  Maggie shot a glance at Chase and laughed. “You salsa dance and you conga?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been known…”

  “And you help women in distress.” Maggie shook her head. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  “I can’t convince you I’m an okay kinda guy.” He winked and turned to the bartender. “Was there any trouble here last night? Did I get into a fight?”

  Juan frowned. “You, señor? No. You and the señora had everyone laughing and having a good time. You closed the bar down at two o’clock in the morning.”

  “Closed?” Maggie asked.

  “Sí, señora.”

  She didn’t try to correct Juan concerning the señora reference, although she wanted to. Correcting him would only delay getting to the bottom of what had happened the night before.

  “You did not want the party to stop.” Juan smiled. “Everyone moved to La Casa Loca, where they stay open until four o’clock in the morning.”

  Maggie exchanged a silent glance with Chase. Perhaps, they were finally getting somewhere in their investigation.

  Chase’s lips tightened briefly. “Where is La Casa Loca?”

  “Not far down the beach from here.” Juan laughed. “You led the conga line all the way there, stopping halfway for a short time.” He grinned. “I watched from the outside patio.”

  “Gracias, amigo.” Chase held out his hand to Juan.

  “De nada, my friend.” Juan shook his hand. “Come back later, sí? You are good for the business.”

  Chase smiled. “We’ll be back, but maybe not tonight.”

  Juan nodded, and touched his temple. “The tequila is strong, sí?

  “Sí,” Chase said. He hooked Maggie’s arm and guided her out the door leading to the beach.

  “Sounds like we had the time of our lives.” Maggie began to regret that she couldn’t remember anything about their night together.

  “I’m thinking it was a damned shame I forgot most of it.”

  “Most?” Maggie frowned. “Do you remember any of it?”

  He squinted at the sunshine glaring off the water. “I swear I can hear the music from the conga li
ne. And I recognized Mama Delores, though I couldn’t remember her name.”

  Maggie sighed. “That’s more than I got.”

  They walked along the path leading to the beach in silence.

  When they reached the sand, Maggie automatically kicked off her flip-flops and bent to pick them up.

  Chase did the same. Then he captured her hand in his, as if he had every right to do so.

  Instinctively, Maggie knew that if she didn’t want him to hold her hand, he would release it at once. She hated to admit it, but she liked that he held her hand. Well, hated was a strong word. She didn’t like that she was softening toward the man who’d obviously tricked her into marrying him. How else had she ended up wearing a wedding ring with a marriage license to prove it had happened? No woman in her right mind married a guy she’d only just met.

  That was the problem. She hadn’t been in her right mind. Her brain had been soaked in tequila. She was surprised she hadn’t succumbed to alcohol poisoning.

  “You say you just got off active duty?” Maggie asked, curious about the man she’d married.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He looked out to the sea. “I served for eleven years as a Navy SEAL.”

  “Why didn’t you go until retirement at twenty years?”

  He didn’t answer for a while. Maggie thought he was ignoring her question, until he answered, “I used to love the adrenaline rush of going into battle. I lived for the fight, for the challenge.”

  “What changed?” she asked softly.

  His hand tightened on hers. “I lost too many of my friends. Some of them had taken the plunge and dared to marry and have children. They were my brothers. And they had family who loved them. Those wives lost their husbands. Those children will never know their fathers.”

  Maggie’s heart squeezed hard in her chest at the sadness in Chase’s voice. “Is that why you didn’t marry?” she asked quietly.

  He nodded. “I figured it wasn’t fair to any woman to put her through that kind of loss.”

  “What if the woman knew what she was signing up for and loved her man enough to go into it with her eyes wide open? Don’t you think it should be her choice?”