Rescued by a Hot SEAL: Hot SEALs

by Cat Johnson

  That got a chuckle from the two men. "So we heard Rudnick and his partner were Team Six when they were in."

  "Is that what you heard?" If Jon didn't make a habit of telling his employees the details of his service, Grant sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to do it. Jon was doing him a favor letting him step in for a few weeks here as it was.

  He took another bite of food, making sure his mouth was full so they wouldn't expect him to say anything more.

  "See how he did that?" one asked the other.

  "Yup. He's good."

  "Sure is."

  Grant listened to the conversation happening about him while keeping one eye on the door. He'd been there for ten minutes already and no Jen. He was starting to worry.

  This delicate situation with her might require more elaborate planning on his part. Not that he'd done a whole lot of planning so far. He hadn't thought much past his arrival.

  Getting here had taken quite a bit of work, but now that he was here at the camp with her, he figured he'd make himself available but not push her too hard.

  Jen was strong and independent. She wouldn't respond well to pressure. He had a gut feeling about that and this time he was going to listen to his instincts instead of to someone else.

  A sight that took his breath away proved his gut had been right. Jen walked through the door. By the way her glance swept the rows of people seated at the tables, she was looking for him.

  "If you'll excuse me, guys. I have a date." Grant stood, taking his mostly empty tray with him.

  The food had sucked but it filled the need. Now he had another need that needed filling. Jen by his side. In his life.

  In his bed would be nice too. Too bad he was sharing a tent with the rest of Jon's crew.

  Probably safer that way. He and Jen needed to get to know each other better in every way, not just that way. But damn, getting to know her in that way in DC had been nice.

  He pushed that memory aside as he stepped over the bench and away from the table.

  "Damn SEALs. He just got here today and he hooked himself one of the volunteers already."

  "Told you he's good."

  Grant chuckled at the conversation behind him as he made his way toward the garbage bins. He figured it wouldn't hurt anything to leave these guys thinking SEALs were Superman-like in their abilities in wooing women.

  He could only hope Jen didn't turn out to be his personal Kryptonite.

  After dumping his trash in the pail, Grant moseyed over to Jen wearing what he hoped was an expression of nonchalance even though inside he would have been happy to sprint to her.

  He drew in a bracing breath and stepped right up. "Hey, good to see you again."

  The fact they were in what amounted to a cafeteria brought Grant right back to high school when he'd been nervous before asking Ashley Sutton to the prom.

  She'd said yes—to attending the prom with him and to much more afterward—so Grant could only hope the deja vu that had put him on this path down memory lane was a good omen.

  "Hi." Jen's gaze cut to the direction from which he'd come and settled on the table where the two GAPS guys still sat, watching them. A furrow appeared in her brow. "You really are working here."

  Apparently she'd doubted that.

  Grant nodded. "Yeah." He saw she didn't have any food. "Come on. Let's get you some dinner."

  "I'm really not very—"

  "Don't say you're not hungry. If there's one thing I've learned, especially when it comes to a set up like this one, you need to eat when you have opportunity to."

  She pulled her mouth to one side. "All right."

  He laughed and steered her by the elbow to the chow line. "Aw, come on. The food's not that bad. I've had worse."

  "Oh, it's not the food. It's you telling me what to do like you're my mother. You sure she didn't put you up to it?"

  He loved the fire he saw in Jen as she sent him a glance. Having her bristle at him was a good sign.

  Aloof Jen or polite Jen, both could have meant she didn't care. But a passionately defensive Jen—that he could work with.

  If he meant enough to her to get her annoyed, then he could mean enough to her to get and keep her interest. Maybe he wasn't as out of practice in the wooing department as he feared.

  Grant raised his right hand. "I swear. There's been no organized coercion from your family. I just like to see—" He stopped himself from what he really wanted to say. That he liked to see his woman eat well.

  Jen was by no means his. Even with as much as he'd like her to be, he had some work to do yet.

  "Like to see me eating because of how horrible I looked when you rescued me?" she asked.

  "You didn't look horrible."

  "It was dark."

  He smiled. "Ah. Yes it was, but I had on night vision goggles. Remember?"

  "I remember. You looked like some sort of cyborg."

  He enjoyed the back and forth with her. The food line he'd already stood in once this evening was creeping along, but he didn’t mind the wait. It gave him time with Jen.

  Finally, they made it up to the warming pans and it was her turn. She got served a tray full of food and turned to him.

  "Where do you want to sit?" he asked.

  Jen shrugged. "Wherever.

  He spotted two seats together and tipped his head. "Over here."

  They sat and she said, "I usually take dinner back to my desk, or to my tent."

  He couldn't say he blamed her. It was crowded and loud. If he hadn't been there with her, he might consider doing the same. "You have a roommate?"

  "No. I mean I don't get a whole tent to myself. The volunteers get their own cubicle in the larger tent. It's not so bad. There's some privacy."

  He'd lived in similar accommodations himself. The refugee camp was run very much like some military bases. He also knew that the set up that Jen described only gave the illusion of privacy.

  Sound still traveled perfectly fine through those canvas partitions. He'd heard more than he wanted to quite a few times in the SEAL encampment in Djibouti before the camp had switched from tents to cans—what the guys had affectionately dubbed the metal containerized living units.

  Of course, once he'd experienced four men to a can, he'd really missed his own little canvas cubicle even with the sound issues.

  Grant went where the military told him to. Lived how and where command decided he'd live. But Jen chose this location, chose to put herself in this situation all of her own accord, reinforcing exactly how special she was.

  It also reinforced in his mind what being with her would be like. It wouldn't be like being with Bethany. Possible cheating aside, while he was away he had been able to count on her being safely at home. Or at least near enough to home he needn't worry.

  Jen—she was in the middle of a refugee camp in a country that had just experienced a failed coup. There were more dangers than he let himself tally as he watched her stab her semblance of meatloaf with a plastic fork.

  This was by no stretch of the imagination a safe place and there was not one thing he could do about it.

  She glanced up and saw him watching her. "If you're going to sit there and not eat, you can at least talk."

  "What would you like me to talk about? Name it. Your wish is my command."

  "Well for starters you can try to convince me that those guys you're here with aren't part of the military and that you aren't here on some sort of assignment."

  He wished he had been assigned to this camp. That would make it so much simpler for him to keep an eye on Jen. "I told you. I'm on leave."

  She cocked a brow, looking unconvinced.

  Why were people always more willing to believe a lie than the truth? Grant let out a laugh. "Wanna see the paperwork? I have to travel with it. I'd be happy to go back to my tent and get it for you."

  She lifted her gaze from her meal to look at him. "You really did come here on your vacation?"

  He nodded. "Yup."

  "To
see me?"

  "Yes."

  "Because I didn't answer your calls or texts?"

  "That about covers it."

  A frown creased her brow. She abandoned her meal and rested her fork on the edge of the plate. "Are you crazy?"

  Grant wobbled his head. "Could be. But not officially. We're all tested regularly and my records show I pass with flying colors."

  Jen laughed. "At times you can be the most disturbingly honest man I know."

  He chose to take that as a compliment. "Thank you."

  "Don't thank me. I didn't say it was a good thing."

  "So you'd rather I lie?" he asked, only half joking.

  "I think I might, yes."

  "I don't believe that." He shook his head. "Why would you want that?"

  "Let's review. That first night in DC you wouldn't touch me because you weren't officially divorced yet. That marks the first noble truth I wasn't happy with. The second night you busted into my room and—" Jen leaned in. "And after having sex with me you promised to get in touch but didn't because someone advised you not to and you listened to them. So that's the second truth that didn't make me feel any better about anything. And that brings us to now, when you came all the way here just to talk to me. And even though I'm starting to believe you, I'm still not sure why since all you've done so far is invite me to a dinner of UN-provided questionable quality food."

  "I can see how that might be confusing. Yes."

  Now she'd laid it all out, he might have to question his official psych evaluation.

  "So tell me, Grant, what is going on? Because I'm really not sure anymore. Why are you flip flopping?"

  He met her gaze dead on and said the most honest thing he could come up with at the moment, "I guess because falling for you is the most frightening thing that's ever happened to me."

  Her eyes widened before she tempered her emotions and hid the reaction to his confession. Shaking her head, she said, "You have the most dangerous job on earth."

  "Yeah, but the thought of losing you—to any of the dangers here or because I've been an idiot or because I'm as incapable of making a woman happy as I fear I might be after one failed marriage—that all scares me more than anything I've ever faced. I'm good at fighting bad guys. Hell, I'm great at it. But this . . . " He motioned between them. "I'm not any good at this."

  Her eyes narrowed as she pushed her chair back and moved around the table. He leaned back in time for her to straddle him in the chair and press her mouth to his in a hard kiss.

  His hands on her hips, he gripped her tighter.

  This was not the place for public shows of affection but there was no way in hell he was going to push her away.

  Jen pulled back, breaking the kiss to say, "Yeah, you are. You're very good at this."

  She leaned back in. As her lips touched his, he heard one of the guards say, "Jesus. Look at him now."

  The voice of the other GAPS guy followed, "Freaking SEALs always get all the girls."

  Grant broke away, not so much because of Jon's guys, but for other reasons. "As much as I'm enjoying this, we need to stop. I'm afraid we're causing a spectacle."

  Syrians had different social mores than Americans. What he and Jen were doing in public, even if it was just kissing, was completely unacceptable in the culture of the refugees at the camp.

  But what he and Jen could do behind closed doors—or rather between her canvas partitions inside the volunteer tent—that was an entirely different story.

  Chapter 24

  When presented with the option of going back to work to finish her spreadsheet or take Grant back to her tent, there was no competition. Jen chose the man who'd traveled halfway around the world to find her.

  Of course, her reputation was going to be shot. She saw her coworker's eyes widen at the sight of him.

  No doubt everyone who saw her dragging Grant inside for obvious reasons was going to think horrible things . . . and she didn’t care.

  She could clear up the fact she really hadn't just picked up the new security guard in the dining hall. Convince them that they were previously acquainted from back in the states. Intimately.

  Until then it was kind of interesting thinking she was being viewed as a bad girl since she'd been so painfully boxed into the role of the good girl for her entire life.

  She never had been one to pick up a guy and take him home but this was Grant, the man she'd fallen for months ago and had tried, futilely, to get over ever since.

  Good thing she'd been unsuccessful in that endeavor.

  The soaring of her heart as he looked at her now with raw unbridled emotion completely erased the ache she'd endured, the pain that had seemed unbearable at times.

  Inside her cube he backed her across the narrow space until they both tumbled onto the too thin mattress.

  The springs squeaked as they bounced.

  He laughed. "I'd forgotten how loud these racks were."

  She lifted a brow. "Oh? Had a lot of experience in making the bed squeak, have you?"

  "Not in the way you're thinking, no. But when a man my size crashes, exhausted after an op, it tests the military's idea of adequate sleeping accommodations." Braced above her, said, "We can talk more about it, if you want to. Or we could move on . . ."

  She clearly felt the evidence of what else he had in mind for them to do. The hard length was pressed between them, impressive even behind the thick fabric of the tactical pants.

  "I'll take option number two, please."

  "Good choice." He leaned in and the bed creaked again loudly. "You sure you're okay with us doing this here?"

  "Very sure." She took charge, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "Kiss me."

  "Gladly."

  "You bring condoms?" she asked.

  "Uh, uh."

  "Confident, were we?"

  "Not at all. Just hopeful." His devilish smile transformed his face, turning his usual good looks to irresistible—not that she'd ever had the power to resist him in the first place.

  She didn't even try now as she pulled him in the final inch and pressed her lips to his.

  The man always could kiss her breathless, but after the hell of having thought she'd lost him and now having him here, she started out that way—breathless. And needy.

  The urge to have him overwhelmed all else. She didn't care who heard. What they thought. Where they were. As long as his clothes came off, along with hers.

  Tugging at his shirt while still kissing him proved futile. He leaned back long enough to pull the item over his head and toss it, before he went in for her shirt next.

  Always efficient, which must be the SEAL way, he had them down to nothing but their underwear in seconds.

  Then that final barrier disappeared as well and she got what she wanted. Them, skin to skin.

  The weight of him pressed her into the thin padding but that sensation was overwhelmed by the pleasure she got from the warmth of Grant's body covering hers. The feel of his hands slipping over her skin. The heat of his tongue against her core as he nudged her thighs apart and dipped his head.

  She came hard and fast, her release having waited for him all these months.

  Then he was over her again, donning one of the condoms they'd discussed when words were still possible. Back before raw need had taken them over.

  He slid into her with one hard thrust. She tossed her head back and reveled in the feel of his filling her.

  Every breath he drew seemed to seal their bond until they were as one. Writhing, sweating, panting, lost in the feel of the joining of their bodies.

  Grant's thrusts sped until he stiffened over her, groaning with his release.

  He dropped his head low and let out a breathy laugh. "There can't possibly be a single person in this tent who didn't hear that."

  "Probably not."

  Sighing he rolled off her, but didn't have much room to go too far given the narrow bunk. Jen was grateful for its cramped size since it kept him close t
o her.

  He ran his hand over her hair, pulling her to rest on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It's going to be hard to leave you when it's time for me to go."

  She lifted up on one elbow so she could see his face. "I know."

  "I can't tell you what to do with your life. Hell, I wouldn't want to. I love you because of who you are. A strong, independent, giving woman so generous she puts herself in danger to help others. I want you to do what you want but dammit, Jen, I have to tell you that I don't think I'll sleep a wink while you're in harm's way. I know too much. I've seen too much."

  One single word stood out from all the rest of his beautiful speech. Yes, she was overwhelmed with his concern for her but that word, love, eclipsed all the rest. As her heart thundered the happiness rose inside her until it materialized as an uncontrollable grin.

  "What?" He frowned at what must seem like an inappropriate smile on Jen's face given how serious their discussion was.

  "You love me?"

  "Yes." He drew in a breath. "If it's too much too soon I'll understand, but my divorce will be final in a couple of months, and I'm through with not telling you what I feel."

  "I love you too."

  He blew out a laugh. "That's a relief."

  "There's something else you don't know that you might want to." His divorce would be final about the same time her commitment in Turkey would be concluded.

  "What's that?" he asked.

  "I'm not staying here."

  "You're not?"

  "Nope. I finish my commitment at this camp in a couple of months. I found another position. I applied and just found out I got it. I'll be helping Syrian child refugees acclimate to their new life in the US."

  "And you'd be doing that where?" he asked, looking as if he was holding back his judgment pending her answer.

  She continued to smile. "Not all that far from where you live."

  Grant's eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. He gathered his composure enough to ask, "Really?"

  "Yes."

  He drew in a breath and let it out with a burst of air. "That is really good news."

  "You sure you won't get tired of me being around?" Yes, she was fishing for confirmation he felt the same as she did.

  He didn’t make her wait for it as he said, "I think I'm never going to be able to get enough of you being around. In fact, Jen, stay with me. Live with me."