Saved by the SEALs: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Moon, Mia

  Saved by the SEALs

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  Mia Moon

  Copyright © 2018 by Mia Moon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. THE PROPOSAL

  2. DATE ONE: CLINT

  3. DATE TWO: MARK

  4. DATE THREE: JAMIE

  5. DATE FOUR: ALEX

  6. THE CHOICE

  Where to Find Mia

  Chapter One

  THE PROPOSAL

  “What would you say if I told you that you were exhibiting all of the major signs of depression?”

  “I would say ‘sounds like Thursday.’ ” I dipped my spoon into my coffee and stirred until the white granules of sugar disappeared. This was my third or fourth cup and it was barely noon. I had to be at work in an hour, and doubted I was going to be able to summon the energy I needed for my high-pep, highly sociable clothing boutique job.

  Zoe was just staring at me, big blue eyes behind round lavender frames that swallowed up half her baby face.

  I had seen that look before. She had been all over WebMD and Dr. Google this morning, trying her best to figure out what was wrong with me. Dr. Google was kind of a dick, but at least he had reasonable co-pays.

  Zoe had been on this particular mission to fix me since I’d moved back to Virginia Beach almost a year ago.

  Which, my answer was the same now as it had been then: it’s Virginia Beach. I was born here. I escaped. And now I’m back. And I spent several hundred thousand dollars I didn’t have on a degree that I can’t even hang on my wall because my landlord doesn’t allow holes in the walls.

  I was the first person in my family to go to college and not a trade school. It had been such a big deal back then. Now it was less of a big deal, because I wasn’t the first in my family to fail at pursuing their dreams.

  I didn’t even have a good excuse. I wasn’t pregnant. I wasn’t injured in a tragic, freak accident. I was just bad at everything I tried to do. I hadn’t even been able to get a job on my own merit, my mom had to call in a favor.

  ‘Don’t worry sugar, we saved a spot just for you.’

  Like, please, let me just kill myself.

  And here was Zoe, interrupting my morning pity-party once again. “Anyway, you and I are going out tonight. It’s been far too long.”

  “I’ve been busy,” I muttered into my coffee cup. “Work.”

  “You never work past six-thirty,” Zoe’s mom owned the boutique, so that bullshit excuse wasn’t going to fly. “Guys aren’t going to think you’re cute, or sexy, or anything if you just sit around in your apartment eating potato chips, collecting zits and watching re-runs of Dawson’s Creek all night.”

  I shrugged. That was all I felt I could do in a sweatshirt that was twice the size it needed to be. I had thrown it on that morning because all of my real person clothes were still in the washer and I hadn’t moved them over nearly two days. I was pretty sure I had been wearing the same pair of yoga pants for just as long…I was a wreck.

  Zoe, the eternal optimist, would never understand that I was beyond saving. Honestly, it was my civic duty to keep her from wasting her time. “Thanks,” I said. “But no, thank you…”

  “You don’t get a choice,” Zoe pulled back from where she had been all but doubled over the table, perky little round butt stuck up in the air with her skinny knees tucked up underneath her. She was as long as a cricket and a bouncy as a ball – she was “perky,” some would say. Which was also a kind translation for well-meaning but occasionally annoying.

  But I still loved her nonetheless. And I wasn’t going to win. I had that much figured out before she even opened her mouth. That being said, I wasn’t going to waste my energy trying. It was best to just give her what she wanted. I managed a smile and gulped down the rest of my coffee. It had gone cold in under four minutes. Nothing but the best for my broke ass.

  “I don’t have anything to wear.” I smirked at her.

  “That much I believe,” she sniffed and sat back down in the chair like a normal person at last. “We can go shopping after work. We’ll find you something really cute. Trust me.”

  “Or I could just do laundry,” I suggested. “Save money.”

  “New clothes are essential when it comes to hunting.” She laughed. “Trust me, I’m an expert.”

  Of course. Zoe Platt, my best-friend-since-always, had juggled no less than four relationships in the past year. How she did it was a mystery to me, since I’d tried, and failed, to keep up with my planner calendar.

  “Okay, okay,” I looked down at my phone. I had to be at work so soon and I wasn’t even remotely ready to leave the cozy corner I had wedged myself into. “I guess you’ll just come by the store after we close?”

  “Sure, I’ll pick you up. You aren’t needed for any of the closing duties, are you?”

  “Just counting down register.”

  “Awesome,” she swung her legs over the side of her perch, unable to stay still. She was so excited about the idea of getting me out of the house, God help her. “I’m so ready. Do you need me to drive you to work?”

  I thought about it. I could walk, because I always needed the exercise. Still, it was kinda hot outside. “Sure, I’ll let you take me.”

  I glanced at my phone again. Time was speeding by and I wasn’t ready to let it go. I was never ready to dedicate my finest waking hours to a job I could barely stand, and now I really wasn’t looking forward to going out after. I just wanted to go home and pity myself some more. Was that too much to ask?

  Zoe was already standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “You’re going to have fun,” she said, as if reading my mind. “I guarantee it.”

  “Let me get through the next few hours first,” I muttered, following her out of the coffee shop. “And I’ll let you know if I agree.”

  * * *

  Hours and hours later, we ended up outside of a local dive – a pizza place, the kind that attracts local bands and middle-aged biker gangs for the most part.

  There was a bar attached, presumably because alcohol was required to make the food taste better. The owner was a man named Tip. Just Tip. No last name.

  And he’d been running that place since I was in diapers.

  Oh right, like Virginia Beach has any sort of club worth going to.

  It was close to nine by the time Zoe and I pulled up. After shutting down the store, going to the mall, picking out an outfit, driving back to her place, letting her fuss over my hair and makeup – we had finally made it out. At that point, I wasn’t even sure why we were still doing this. In an hour my phone would be springing me a reminder that my ideal bedtime was approaching.

  “Remember what you are here for,” Zoe raked her thin fingers through her hair, a vain attempt to fluff it out. Giving volume to her hair was like giving life to the dead, it was a godless pursuit. “You are out for blood, so I want you to act like it. Man blood.”

  “What am I? A vampire? I thought I was here to have fun?” I rolled my eyes and cast a glance across the room, trying to peruse the territory.

  “You are. But you are also out for blood.”

  I snorted and tossed my hair around. I’d left it down, and now it was seemingly everywhere. I have long, dark hair that’s a pain in the ass if not styled right. And hot. Did I mention hot? Not in a hot-attractive way. In a hot-sweaty way.

 
“Looks like slim pickins, in any case.” My mind went back to my hair. Maybe I should cut it. I inspected a chestnut brown lock and held it up to the light, checking for split ends.

  “Would you pay attention to me, please?” Zoe tapped her foot.

  “Hey, isn’t that Vicki who dropped out like, sophomore year of high school? Doesn’t she have a husband and like three unvaccinated kids she should be hanging out with?”

  “Focus!”

  I pulled my attention back on Zoe, because if I let it wander again she would probably stab me with a fork She grabbed onto my arm and started pulling me towards the bar, as if getting me absolutely bombed was going to solve any of my problems…

  All of a sudden, Zoe came to a full stop and I nearly ran into her, swearing under my breath as my cherry-red fuck me heels squeaked against the sticky floor. I managed to pull myself together and grab onto her shoulder, squeezing it.

  “Can you decide what you would like to happen, please?” I hissed.

  “Jackpot,” was her only answer, her pale hand come up to snatch me by the face, squeezing my cheeks and turning my head to face the bar. “Just look.”

  Holy shit. Yeah, jackpot – she wasn’t kidding.

  Four guys were sitting at the far end of the bar. I’d missed them on my cursory glance around the room. The best part was that I didn’t recognize a single one of them.

  A minor miracle here in Virginia Beach.

  You know how it is, sometimes, when you come home after college and you accidentally hit on one of the guys from high school (usually the one who asked you out to junior prom and, when you turned him down, he cried and threatened to drink bleach for a full week). Or you see your high school crush, who’d been a perfect specimen of teenage fantasies (and of course, who never talked to you back then), and now he was dumpy. Or had a man-bun. Or, worse yet, was even hotter and still not talking to you.

  I digress. These dudes were all handsome to the point where I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to approach more. Part of me just wanted to take the plunge, throw a line and see which one bit – but another (larger) part of me wanted to just turn and run away. I probably would have, too, if Zoe hadn’t been right behind me – pushing me along like a toddler who wouldn’t stay still on the playground.

  “You can have both the blondes,” she said briskly. “I’ll take the redhead.” She was acting so desperately single. I was starting to doubt whether it was a good idea to be seen with her. Truthfully, her single-mindedness was admirable. When Zoe was in this mode, she could take over a small country. Win wars. Broker peace treaties.

  “I’m not going to take anyone,” I shot back. “I…”

  “Hey there, ladies,” the first one to speak up had dark hair and a voice to match. His words came out in a smooth, velvety purr which made every syllable sound filthy, even in the form of a simple greeting. The sound was enough to make my cheeks warm and I had to turn my head away and look at Zoe. I wasn’t sure if my glance was accusatory or grateful.

  I glanced at Mr. Velvet Voice, then back at Zoe. Yeah, I was grateful, if only to hear that damned voice.

  “Hey,” I said lamely. Now the entire bar knew that I had no idea how to talk to the opposite sex. Cool, cool.

  I followed up with a question. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  There was a pause. You could have heard a pin drop, and then he laughed. It wasn’t mocking, he wasn’t making fun of me – it was a genuine, hearty laugh that I liked a lot. He leaned back in his seat. All four of them were in uniform, the bulky material of their jackets bunching up over their muscular arms. I knew they were all ripped just by looking at them, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what would appear if I started peeling away the layers…

  “Isn’t that my line?” He asked, finally turning back to me. His eyes were twinkling – the color of dark blue denim.

  “Sure,” I said, a little more confidence building as I stepped closer. “But I hear the Navy doesn’t pay.”

  “Oooh, burn,” one of his friends laughed – an attractive blonde with eyes brown as leather. “If you don’t buy her a drink, Mark, I will.”

  “My card swipes faster than all of yours, boys.” A redhead tossed his card onto the counter for emphasis, whipping it out of his jacket pocket with unprecedented swiftness. “And I bet my liquor goes down faster too.”

  “Oh, shove it, Alex.” A second blonde chimed in, his hair darker and brassier than the first. “You don’t pour the drinks here, it all goes down the same.”

  The back-and-forth was distracting them from my movements and made it easier to slip in-between barstools. The redhead (Alex? Was that his name? I was having a difficult time keeping them all straight due to the male beauty that surrounded me) bumped over one, his buddies all shifting over to make room for me.

  Zoe was lost. I don’t know if she got bored and left or if she had to leave for some other reason – I’d check my phone later and find out. My heart started beating a little faster when I noticed she was gone, but at the same time it meant that I was here with four buff Navy SEALs, nowhere to be, and no competition.

  “Don’t pay any attention to these guys,” the second blonde waved a hand as if to brush aside all of his companions. “They are just crowing for attention and you’re the prettiest bird we have seen all night.”

  I wasn’t a big fan of the metaphor, but I was willing to go with it. “My name is Mila,” I said.

  “My name is Clint,” he said, thumping a broad hand against his chest.

  “My name is Alex,” the redhead confirmed, grabbing my attention again with a melodic voice. “That one is Mark.” He pointed to the one who had spoken to me first. “And that one is Jamie.” He pointed to the other blonde.

  “You are all on leave?” I didn’t speak a lick of military jargon. I knew I shouldn’t try.

  Alex cracked a wide grin. “Not exactly. We graduated from our training today,” he said. “This is just a little celebration while we wait to receive our assignments.”

  “I don’t care what I get assigned,” Clint said. “I just hope they send me far away from this place.”

  “Yeah, who knew the east coast could be so goddamn miserable?” Alex downed whatever was left in his glass. “Can we get you something to drink, darlin’?”

  He let that good ol’ boy Southern accent slip and I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be under the influence and also surrounded by a bunch of men.”

  “Hey, you’re perfectly safe with us.” Mark said. “But if it makes you feel, you know, safer – you can always pick just one of us.” His lopsided smile would have been cocky if it hadn’t been so earnest.

  “Oh, how could I ever pick?” I made an exaggeration of my indecision, leaning against a barstool and bracing the edge of the seat with my hands. It was only partially me being dramatic. If it came down to it, I didn’t know how I was expected to choose. I mean, they were all so good-looking. And I was just one person.

  Or were they just looking for a fifth drinking buddy for the night? Eh, who knew. This was, admittedly, better than staying home.

  “I don’t know,” Jamie nodded empathetically, as if he wouldn’t be able to pick either, if he was me. “We’re all pretty good choices. And if you ask me, I – hey!” He brought his fist down on the counter, a gesture which earned us a very annoyed look from the bartender. “I’ve got it. Come here, come here all of you – lean in closer.”

  He waved his hands to bring everyone in. One by one his friends followed suit, leaning heads and shoulders into a huddle until they formed a semi-circle around their corner of the bar. I was smack in the middle of it too, just an arm’s length away from getting a handful of abs. I was more than okay with that, honestly.

  “What is it?” Alex asked, still gripping a cheap beer in his fist. He took long swig from the bottle and then set it down on the counter, the condensation leaving a white ring behind on the wood.

  “I’ve got a proposal,” Jamie sai
d, “because let’s be real, there isn’t a single one of us who would turn down a date with this girl. I mean, look at her! She’s gorgeous, right? We all have eyes. We can see that. So here is what I’m thinking. We’re all going overseas for a long time – so we really ought to do our best with what we have while we are here. Suppose every single one of us takes her out for a date. At the end of the week she picks a winner.”

  “What does the winner get?” Alex bounced his ginger eyebrows.

  “This is all contingent upon her actually agreeing,” Mark added. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being talked about so openly while not actually being addressed, but I was going along with it. I didn’t actually mind as much as I would have otherwise. The guys…they all had a special sort of charm about them.

  And, anyway, they were probably joking. This was all in good fun. It certainly was fun for me, looking at each one.

  “I’ll agree to it,” I said, drawing all eyes on me at once. The sudden attention brought a flush to my cheeks; I could feel it creeping up my neck. I smiled in an attempt to mask some of my more obvious nerves.

  “She’s game!” Alex declared. “I’m game too.”

  “We don’t even know what’s at stake…” Mark started in again.

  Jamie held up his hands for silence. He didn’t get it, but he continued anyway. “Winner gets her picture to take with them,” he said, and then paused to consider more. “Winner also gets a second date.” He glanced at me to see if I approved, and I gave him my best smile and a nod.

  Why not? It wasn’t like I had a particularly full social calendar. Or a social calendar.

  “Excellent,” Jamie clasped his hands together. “Well if everyone can agree to this, then I think she should be able to go ahead and pick who she wants to start with. The rest of us will have to wait our turn.”

  Oh great, he’s going to put this all on me.