Building Ties (Military Romantic Suspense) (SEAL Team Heartbreakers Book 4)

by Teresa Reasor

Brett laughed. “I don’t have to, babe. You just did it for me.”

  She groaned. “I can’t believe you got us a place.”

  Relief slammed through him at her enthusiasm. There had been a moment in the newspaper break room when he’d had doubts the wedding would go forward. “Well, we need to check it out first and choose what we want them to serve. It could be a total dump.” He glanced in her direction. “We could go there for lunch. It’s past time for the noon crowd.”

  “Okay.”

  He drove to South Park. The restaurant was nestled in the midst of an older community of one-story houses. Parking was limited to a small area in back of the restaurant and along the street. The exterior wasn’t much to look at, and the outside seating was very limited, but the interior was neat and clean. The bar was small, but one entire wall behind it was dedicated to a wide variety of wines, and they had several good beers on tap. Despite it being late for lunch, there were more than twenty people still dining.

  After the waitress had shown them to a table, they studied the menu. Brett asked for the manager. The waitress went to the phone at the bar and after a few minutes a slightly built man with graying hair and a mustache appeared from the back of the restaurant.

  “How may I help you?”

  Brett stood and offered his hand. “I believe we spoke on the phone this morning, Mr. Rizzo. I’m Brett Weaver and this is my fiancée, Tess Kelly.”

  “Yes, we talked about your rehearsal dinner. I’m so glad you’ve come in. Why don’t I go get the menu we reserve for parties and see if you find it satisfactory?”

  “Thank you.”

  Brett reached for Tess’s hand. “I know this isn’t fancy, more family-oriented, but if the food’s good—”

  “The food’s all that matters…and the service, of course.”

  The manager returned with the menu, sat at their invitation, and went over the wine list and dishes in depth.

  After a few moments discussion, Brett suggested, “Let’s both order two things from the menu and do a taste test.”

  Rizzo laughed. “That’s an excellent idea, Mr. Weaver. You order the entrees you’d like to try, and I’ll have the staff prepare a sampler of the different salads and our desserts, free of charge.”

  “That would be great.”

  “A very small sampler,” Tess added. “I don’t want to have to be rolled out of here like a meatball, and I do have to fit into my wedding dress in a little over two weeks.”

  The man laughed again and Rizzo went off order their sampler while they settled on the entrees.

  Brett settled on the osso buco and ravioli. Tess chewed her bottom lip as she looked over the choices and he smiled. She took everything so seriously. But then her job dealt with serious issues, more serious than he’d ever expected.

  After she ordered the risotto with grilled salmon and the lasagna she handed the menu back to the waitress.

  Brett grasped her hand. “When’s the big bachelorette party?” he asked.

  “Oh, God!” She raked fingers through her hair, looking like she was tempted to pull it, and it tumbled out from between them in a copper waterfall. “I had hoped I could talk Zoe out of it, but she’s got a whole list of things planned, all guaranteed to be excruciating for me.”

  Brett laughed. “Like what?”

  “Well, at least we aren’t going to do the club thing. We’re doing a full day of manicures, pedicures, hair treatments, a massage, lunch, and some kind of party at the house with finger foods.”

  The waitress brought their drinks and left.

  “That doesn’t sound like too bad a day. You won’t have to face a night of drinking, gambling, and the general mayhem that follows a group of Navy SEALs when they get together to party.”

  “I can’t imagine Hawk getting too wild. He seems Mr. Controlled-and-Responsible.”

  “You’ve never seen him when he drinks.” Neither had he, come to think of it.

  “I didn’t even know he did. Well, other than an occasional beer.”

  “Since he hooked up with Zoe he sticks to beer and he never drinks hard liquor.” God, he was such an asshole, playing her like this.

  “So, it’s going to be a night to tie one on.” Her brown eyes settled on him with a look that said, are you kidding me?

  “No, I’ll want to at least know where I am when we get to the strip joint.”

  Silence reigned for at least five seconds while her eyes narrowed. “Does Zoe know Hawk is going to take you to a strip joint?”

  He controlled his smile for another five seconds, then laughed. “Hawk would never take me to a strip joint, even if I begged him to. He’s too,” he started to say pussy-whipped and thought better of it. “He’d never do anything to hurt Zoe. I think we’re going night fishing on Doc’s boat.”

  She leaned back in her seat and her dark eyes searched his face. “I never know when you’re kidding me.”

  “I was kidding about the strip joint. Truly. We really are going fishing on Doc’s boat. Just the eight of us.”

  “It would be a real tragedy if all of you get drunk and drown.”

  Brett threw his head back and laughed. “Nobody’s going to drown. You’re welcome to try and talk the guys out of bringing beer, but it won’t happen.”

  Tess frowned.

  Noticing her frown, he said, “You can come to the dock and see us off. Doc will even let you come aboard and check the boat so you’ll know we’re not bringing any women with us. With eight of us there won’t be any room left for anyone else.”

  Tess covered her eyes. “Oh, my God, it’s getting worse every moment.”

  “Tess.” He grasped her hand and eased it down to look into her face. “I know SEALs have a reputation for being cowboys and wild men, but if we get arrested, they can bust us down in rank or shit-can us altogether. None of us wants any of that to happen. So we’re careful. I may tease, but I’ll never lie to you. All we have planned is a fishing trip where we can relax, drink beer, and play poker.”

  After a deep breath, she said, “Okay.” But she still looked concerned.

  Luckily the waitress chose that moment to arrive with their salad sampler and two plates, and for the next hour and a half, while their different courses arrived, they concentrated on eating. And eating. And eating. They discussed the food and family. By the time Brett took the last bite of tiramisu, his eyes nearly rolled back in his head and he decided he must have grown a second stomach, like a cow. Tess hadn’t done too badly either, though she’d flagged at the end and only taken one bite each of the desserts.

  They narrowed it down to two entrees, two desserts and a single salad. The waitresses boxed up the remaining food for them to take home while they settled the bill. The manager appeared to confirm their reservation for the rehearsal dinner and to note the menu they’d chosen. He shook both their hands and wished them well.

  *

  Tess rode a romantic high as she watched Brett settle their bill. They’d talked and shared bites of each other’s food. They were falling back into the groove of being a cohesive unit. Now that she’d made a decision about the job, despite those moments of disappointment she experienced every time she thought about it, she felt lighter. The invisible boundary she’d felt between them was gone. They were looking forward to their wedding. Working toward that goal together.

  A man came into the restaurant and sauntered past them to a table. Something about the shape of his face, his hair, struck a chord of familiarity. Where had she seen him before?

  “I need to check the car before we leave, honey. Stay here and I’ll pull around front.” He picked up the bags and walked out the door.

  Reality was a bitch. And Brett’s words brought Tess back to the here and now with a vengeance. They were no longer a couple planning their rehearsal dinner. They were targets again. Who had set the bomb? Were they terrorists targeting Brett? Or was it directed at her because of the information Mary had shared with her?

  She believed the latte
r, but until the FBI came back and told her definitively, it was still up in the air. The car had a burglar alarm on it, but Brett insisted on checking it each time it was left unattended before he’d allow her get in.

  A car pulled around the corner, but it wasn’t the rental car. It glided by and she watched it for a moment. A flash of orange caught her attention, an orange sticker with a logo was curved around the right-hand bumper. Was there something familiar about the sticker? A niggling feeling of anxiety settled in her gut and radiated out. Where had she seen it before?

  Seconds ticked away as her emotional level spiraled. How long did it take for Brett to walk around and check the car and then drive it to the front of the restaurant? Through the front window, she scanned the row of older homes stretching diagonally away from the restaurant and the businesses directly across from it. She focused on the corner where Brett would have to brake before turning toward the front of the restaurant. One minute passed, then two. Her heart beat against her eardrums. The pressure built as she strained to hear every sound on the street. Her muscles tightened in alarm. When the rental car came into view she rushed out of the building before Brett had come to a complete stop. She jerked open the door and slid into the passenger seat.

  “You were supposed to wait until I came in for you, Tess.”

  “Screw that. What took you so long? Weren’t you gone longer this time?”

  “I had to wait for a couple of customers to maneuver out of their parking spaces before I could back out.”

  Her breathing was coming in gasps and she tossed her purse onto the floor at her feet and folded her arms across waist.

  Concern tightened Brett’s features. He rested his hand on her linen-covered thigh just above her knee and gave her leg a reassuring squeeze. “Easy, honey. I’m fine. You’re fine.”

  With her heart racing out of control, it was hard to get a full breath. Was she having a panic attack? She gripped his wrist and held on, because touching him seemed to help.

  Brett pulled away from the curb and drove in aimless circles. The motion of the car seemed comforting, and eventually she calmed.

  “Why don’t you put your seat back and just relax until we get to the apartment?”

  She did as he suggested, because she needed to lean on him right now, to feel coddled and safe. To just look at him and know he was safe, too. By the time he parked in the lot reserved for residents at his apartment complex she was drowsy.

  “How ’bout that nap, meatball?” he asked, his smile endearing and tender.

  “I don’t think I’m so far gone you’ll have to roll me into the building,” she teased, offering him a smile. “I’m sorry I got so out of control.”

  Brett shook his head and released his seat belt so he could reach across the console and tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’ve walked in your shoes, Tess. You have to cut yourself some slack. Nobody expects you to jump through hoops four days after—being knocked off your feet. Not even Taylor. Okay?”

  She understood why he avoided saying “after your car blew up,” and appreciated his attempt to steer away from the visual that popped into her head every time she thought about it. She laid a hand against his cheek, then ran a thumb over his lips.

  He pressed a kiss against it.

  “Why do you suppose they make cars with this damn console thing now?” she asked.

  Brett’s eyes lit with humor. “I think to cut down on teen pregnancy. It definitely puts a cramp in trying to make out in the front seat.”

  With a sigh she sat up and readjusted the seat. Her phone rang and she fished it out of her bag and answered.

  Brett got out of the car and gathered the carry-out bags from the back seat.

  Mrs. Delgado sounded breathless, excited. “The new lawyer says he may be able to get Daniel out.”

  “I’m happy for you, Mrs. Delgado.”

  “Daniel has agreed to speak with you, and his lawyer has approved it.”

  “Will he be with Daniel when I come to speak with him?”

  “Yes. He didn’t want Daniel answering questions without him.”

  “That’s fine. It’s always a good idea for Daniel to be protected, no matter whom he’s talking to. Because he’s a juvenile, you’ll have to sign forms allowing me to interview him there at the facility.”

  “I have already done so, and Mr. Niles has set up the interview. He said he could come to the prison at five o’clock Thursday.”

  “Okay, I’ll fill out my paperwork as soon as I get to a computer and then drop it by the facility. With you and your lawyer both submitting paperwork, I’m sure there won’t be any issues.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Kelly. Thank you very much.”

  Brett opened her door but leaned against the side of the car and waited.

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad Daniel has better representation.”

  She hung up, collected her tote and stepped out of the car. “Daniel has agreed to talk to me with his lawyer on Thursday at five.” She shoved the door closed.

  Brett hit the key fob to lock the car. “The same lawyer who tried to get him to confess and make a deal?”

  “No. The one I suggested to Mrs. Delgado.”

  He nodded. “So you’ve bought into his innocence?”

  “Not yet. I want to talk to him face to face. And I’m going to check out his arms and see if he has any tattoos first. Rosalie said the man who held her at gunpoint had a tattoo on the inside of his arm between his wrist and elbow. But by now his lawyer has had time to read the witness statements, so Daniel may be out before I can interview him.”

  “I’d prefer you interview him outside of Metropolitan Correctional. Just the thought of you behind bars with a bunch of criminals has all my protective instincts going into hyper drive.”

  Tess looped her arm through his and ignored the butt of his gun pressing into her shoulder as she leaned into him. “If he’s free, and his mom and brother are present while I interview him, if he does have something to hide, it won’t come out. Interviewing him at the facility will work better for me. Should I take one of those?” she asked, indicating the takeout bags.

  “This one.” He handed her the one that would free his right hand, the one he needed to draw his Sig. They walked toward the apartment building. “Come to think of it, maybe you’d be safer there at the facility. Having you in the room with Miguel Delgado—” He shook his head.

  The apartment smelled musty, and Brett opened the sliding glass doors and turned on the ceiling fan to help the air circulate.

  “I stripped the bed before I left. I’ll have to make it before we climb in. While you put away the food, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Stay away from the balcony, Tess.”

  “Okay.” Anger tangled the excellent food she’d eaten earlier into a tight ball. The attack—and it had been an attack, physically and emotionally—had disrupted their lives long enough. It had been four days and the hypervigilance they’d been forced to maintain was getting old. How did Brett live like this for months at a time?

  She put away the food and joined him in the bedroom. The corners of the sheets were as tautly aligned as any hospital bed. He spread a lightweight blanket over them.

  “If ever you retire from being a SEAL, they’d hire you in a New York minute to make beds at Scribe Mercy or Balboa Hospital.”

  Brett chuckled. “First thing you learn in training, besides to jump to attention and salute, is to make your bunk.”

  “It looks good enough to sleep in.” Tess slipped off her shoes. While Brett put pillowcases on the pillows she slowly and methodically shed her clothes. She hung her jacket on the bedroom doorknob, folded the rest, and placed them on one side of the dresser. Dressed in nothing but a camisole and a thong, she slid onto the blanket face down.

  “Jesus, Tess,” Brett breathed behind her.

  She looked over her shoulder to find him bailing out of his clothes like they were on fire. She laughed, then caught her br
eath as, completely naked, he crawled up on the bed. Dear God. Every inch of him, muscular, lean, and conditioned from physical training, looked masculine and fit, and so damn sexy heat flared in her face and worked its way down her body. He nuzzled one cheek of her ass, then gave the other a quick nip. She gasped and ran her hand over his head and turned to loop her arm around his neck as he eased down beside her, allowing every inch of his bare skin to rub against her.

  Laying a hand against her bare backside, he tugged her in close against him, his arousal an adamant pressure against her stomach.

  “How can you think about sex after all the food you ate?”

  “I’m a guy. I think about sex every thirty seconds.” He nuzzled her neck and his hand slid beneath her camisole to find her breast.

  She laughed again. His fingers toying with her nipple and titillating sensations trailed down her body. There was something to be said about having to go braless, injuries or no injuries.

  He pulled back to flash her a smile. “I think you may have the most beautiful ass on the planet.”

  He plucked and toyed with her nipple until it tightened. Rivulets of sensation ebbed and flowed from her breast to more intimate areas of her body.

  “I thought that was reserved for J-Lo or someone.” Her voice sounded wispy and soft. She swallowed.

  “Only because the world hasn’t seen yours.” His touch trailed down her side and he caressed said ass in such a way her breathing grew uneven. His lips covered hers and their tongues meshed. A sweet, sweeping wave of tenderness and love tumbled through her. Everything he’d done for her, for them, during the course of the day, every loving look, every patient word came back. She fought the urge to weep and held him as tight and close as she could.

  Tess groaned when his fingers slipped beneath the thong’s ribbon of fabric and followed it to her moist, aching core. He circled the opening with the tip of one digit, teasing her, tempting her, entering her just enough to drive her crazy with need.

  She slipped a hand between them to cup his balls and gently kneaded and caressed them. Brett hummed beneath the kiss and parted his legs. Sliding down, she traced his collarbones with her lips and tasted the warmth of his skin with her tongue. She pressed soft, moist kisses down his chest and followed the thin line of hair down the center of his stomach with a fingertip. She grasped the taut shaft of his erection and stroked it. His muscles tensed and relaxed with the up and down movement of her hand.