Contract with a SEAL (Special Ops: Homefront Book 3) (3 page)

“You did. And the memory has kept me warm
for about five months now.”

“You’re the last honorable guy on the
planet, Joe.”

“Not quite. Which tells me this guy you
married definitely lowered your expectations of men.”

“No kidding. So will you go? It’s really
okay if you don’t. I can’t blame you at all. It’s a long drive up here.”

He paused momentarily, an idea materializing.
“So you’re essentially asking me to be your date-for-hire for the evening. I
wear what you want me to wear. I say the right things, dazzle them with a few
scary war stories, make your ex-husband look like yesterday’s news, and look at
you like you are God’s gift to men.” That last part wouldn’t be too hard, he
decided.

“When you put it like that, it sounds so
horrible.”

 “Vi, when I walk out of that gala the
only question in people’s minds that evening will be why the hell you were
slumming it with your ex when you had the likes of me lined up next.” Joe
grinned confidently. “So what do I get in return?”

Dead silence ensued, and Joe nearly
laughed at the palpable tension firing through his cell phone. He could imagine
what was going through that gorgeous head of hers.

“Um, what do you want?” she finally
asked.

“There’s actually something you could do
for me. But how about we discuss this over dinner Wednesday? I’ll be at the
Pentagon briefing during the day. I should be done by seventeen hundred hours.
You can lay out the details of what you need, and I’ll tell you what I’d
require on my end.”

“Dinner?” She sounded flustered. In front
of the camera, Vi Owens never missed a beat, her voice smooth, and her eyes
calm and unreadable. But right now, she sounded like she was a freshman asking
a senior to the Prom.

“Sure. We’re entering into a bit of a
contract, aren’t we? And I do my best negotiating in person.” He smiled, knowing
she wouldn’t—couldn’t—refuse.

Confidently, he smiled out at the
white-capped horizon of the Atlantic Ocean.

Vi Owens could be exactly what he needed
this holiday.

“So, tell me everything you know about Joe
Shey.” Pounding the pavement in her three-inch heels, Vi spoke curtly into her
phone, her tone all-business even though it was her sister, Lacey, on the other
end.

“He’s a good commander. Well-liked by all
his teams. Hotter than hell, but since I’m married and my husband’s deployed,
I’d rather not elaborate on that.”

Vi laughed.

“I don’t know, Vi. What are you looking
for?”

Vi clipped along Pennsylvania Avenue,
keeping up with the fast pace of the other pedestrians. They were slower here in
DC than in New York City, where she had gone to college and lived most of her
adult life. But they were faster than in Atlanta, where Vi had lived only
briefly after her ill-fated marriage. “Just right,” as Goldilocks would say. She
could get used to a pace like this, especially if she cut out her afternoon
Starbucks habit which tended to increase her speed by one mile an hour.

“Anything that would tell me what he’s
after,” Vi answered Lacey. “He’s got the advantage right now. And you know me. I
don’t like that.”

“No kidding. But this is dinner. Not a
business meeting.”

“Well, it didn’t sound like that to me,”
Vi began, then filling Lacey in on the details of the so-called contract
negotiations she was about to face. “So what do you think he wants from me? He’s
not, like, into something weird or something, is he?”

“Huh?”

“You know…” Standing at a red crosswalk
sign, Vi glanced sideways at the people around her, all talking on their own
phones—the DC norm. “Come on, Lacey. I don’t have to spell everything out
for you, do I? Something… weird.”

A peal of laughter burst from the phone.
“Oh, God, Vi. Have you been reading
50 Shades of Grey
or something?”

More snickering followed, making Vi
frown. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to think? I don’t know this guy. What
would you think if some totally intimidating SEAL commander told you in that daunting
voice of his that there’s something you could do for him.”

“Ha! You wish. Sorry, hon. I think you
can leave your handcuffs and whip at home.”

“I’m hanging up, Lacey.”

“Don’t—I’ll stop.” She sputtered,
trying to resume a normal tone. “So, um, what might he want from you? Well, maybe
financial advice?”

It was a thought. Vi would be the right
person for that. And why did Vi feel somewhat let down by the suggestion that
that’s all Joe Shey might want out of her. “You think?”

“Sure. Makes sense. He’ll be your date
for the night, and you can give him some pointers on retirement or something.”

That would figure. What more could a guy
like Joe want with her? If he had been after something more carnal, he
certainly already had his chance the night of the wedding. “You’re right. That
must be it. Your idea is a lot more plausible than what Maeve had suggested he
might be after.”

“Oh, is that where your idea came from?”

Vi raised her eyebrows. “Come on. You
know Maeve. That girl’s got a hell of an imagination and it resides firmly in
the gutter.”

 “Yeah, and I bet it’s getting worse
with Jack away.” Lacey giggled again. “Well, I gotta run. One of the team wives
is having everyone over this afternoon for coffee.”

Vi felt the familiar prick of something
childishly close to envy. Lacey had always been able to surround herself with
friends within a moment’s notice. There was something about her that drew
people to her. She was approachable. She was fun. She was easy to talk to. She
was everything that Vi wasn’t.

But at the same time she felt so grateful
that Lacey wasn’t alone, friendless, in a new city now that her husband was
deployed. Vi had spent enough time alone and friendless in new cities. It
wasn’t something she wanted for her sister. “Hey, that’s great. Have fun.”

“I will. You too. And let me know what
happens, okay?”

“Will do.”

The evening sun cast an orange glow over
the well-lit rotunda of the Capitol Building as Vi strode along Pennsylvania
Avenue. She had to admit that there was a certain appeal to living in
Washington, DC that was similar to when she had lived in New York City.

In her twenties, when she was still
struggling in her first job after graduating from Columbia University, she
remembered walking along 34
^th
Street and looking at the Empire State
Building looming above her, lit up like a beacon against the night sky. Even
living on a paltry salary, crammed into an apartment with three roommates in
SoHo, there was a feeling of accomplishment just being able to say she was
making it in New York on her own.

DC was something like that, and she was
anxious to find herself a home in the nation’s capital. All the buildings were
so full of history, laced with rich, colorful tales. She could have a casual
lunchtime walk alongside the same iconic structures that she seen in her
textbooks in elementary school.

Pressing her palms against the revolving
door that led to the restaurant, her eyes searched through the glass for his
familiar face. It had been five months, but she imagined she’d recognize him
easily, even though last time she saw him she had been seeing double.

Glancing at her watch, she walked up to
the hostess. She was early, but saw no need to wait standing in the chilly
lobby. As she followed the woman to a table for two by the window, she could
feel a few glances sent in her direction. As a TV correspondent and not a host,
she wasn’t as recognizable as some of the bigger names on the network. But
there were always a few people who knew who she was.

Yet she didn’t command half the attention
as the man who walked in ten minutes after her. When Joe entered the
restaurant, it was all Vi could do to suppress a schoolgirl sigh. Still in his
uniform, hat tucked under his arm, his image nearly rendered her speechless. “Joe,”
she finally managed to say as she stood to greet him with a hug. She nearly purred
at the feel of his taut muscles underneath his uniform jacket.

He brushed her cheek with a light kiss
that sent a tingling sensation down to the marrow of her bones. “You look
beautiful as ever, Vi.” He slid her chair out for her to sit down again. “Sorry
to make you wait.”

“I was early.” Vi couldn’t pull her eyes
from him. His eyes were magnetic, light blue with a dark cobalt around the
border of his irises. Tiny lines around his eyes only seemed to lend him more
authority.

And his body… she bit her lip wantonly. No,
the men she hung around with at work certainly weren’t built like SEALs. No
wonder she had thrown herself at him at the wedding. Seeing him again, she
almost felt vindicated.

“Want a bottle of wine?” he offered.

“No,” she was quick to respond. “I’ll
just stick with my tea. I don’t need you driving me home again tonight like
last time.”
Or do I?
By God, she had forgotten how sexy this man really
was.

 “In that case, I’ll have a beer. Sorry
about the khakis. I came straight from my briefing.” His laugh, low and warm,
made her heart palpitate. “Of course, I recall you prefer me in a uniform.”

Lowering her gaze to her tea, Vi shook
her head, pulling the bag out of the steaming cup. “I’m sorry about that. Look,
I’d love you to go, no matter what you wear.” Or don’t wear, the thought popped
into her head as she tried to shake the image of him naked out of her brain. What
was the matter with her? Sure, it had been almost a year since she’d had sex,
but still…

“Don’t worry about it. I kind of like the
idea. I’d love to meet your ex and intimidate the hell out of him in all my
SEAL regalia. He sounds like a lowlife, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“I don’t mind at all. I’ve been hearing a
lot of that now, living with Maeve and Bess. But they use more colorful
language.”

“I’d one-up them on the language if I
weren’t in uniform, believe me.”

Taking a sip of her tea, she gave her
head a subtle shake. “This whole thing is embarrassing. Makes me feel like I’m
back in high school, asking someone to be my pretend boyfriend.”

Joe angled his head with a smirk. “Who
among us has evolved past high school when it comes to getting cheated on?”

As he ordered a Sam Adams and a crab dip,
the mere movement of his lips as he spoke was almost hypnotic. Smoldering in
her suit, Vi regretted ordering hot tea and cooled herself with a long sip of ice
water. “Okay. So now that we know how much I need you for the gala, you’ve got
me pretty vulnerable. You said you wanted something in return?”

Joe grinned. “I hope that didn’t keep you
up nights.”

“No,” she lied. Technically, it had been
Maeve’s colorful suggestions of what he might want from Vi that had kept her
awake. “But you certainly intrigued me.”

Giving a nod to the waitress as she
handed him his beer, he took a sip as his brow furrowed slightly. “Well, I’m a Commanding
Officer.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And as a CO, people expect me to do some
entertaining during the holidays. Specifically, to throw a party for my teams
and their families.”

“Uh-oh.” Vi lifted her hands slightly
from the table. “I should tell you right away that I’m horrible at throwing parties.
Maybe Maeve could help you. She pulled off a hell of a wedding for Lacey. Or
Bess. She’s an amazing cook. I’m usually just deadweight at a party. I stand
there with a wine glass and just let things happen.”

“Which is exactly what I need.” Joe
shifted in his seat. “Here’s the deal. Most Commanding Officers are married
with kids. And being a single CO comes with some pretty negative consequences.”

Vi leaned back in her chair, a smile sidling
up her face. “I’ll bet all the wives try to set you up with their single
sisters, right?”

“Half of them. Then the other half watch
my every move, trying to figure out what the hell is so wrong with me that I’ve
got two ex-wives.”

“It can’t be that hard for you to find a
date, Joe.”

Joe’s gaze dropped. “It’s not. But inviting
just anyone to a party like this can be dangerous. They get the wrong idea. They
get talking to the team wives, and suddenly start thinking they might enjoy
playing house with a Navy SEAL.”

“Ohh… you’re right about that.”

Joe nodded. “I’m not looking to lead
someone on. I’m PCSing.”

“PCSing?”

“Moving,” he clarified with the civilian
term. “I’m changing jobs in January. I have no interest in starting something
with someone now. Makes moving a lot messier.”

“And you don’t strike me as a man who
likes things messy.”

“Not a bit. My job makes life complicated
enough. So what I need is someone to pretend she’s my date just for one night.”

“Pretend,” Vi clarified. “So you don’t
really want…” Her voice trailed as she gave a little shrug.

“Want? Of course. But need? Hell no. I
don’t think you’re looking to get involved with a guy who’s about to leave town
in a matter of weeks anyway.”

Leaning back, Vi took a sip of her drink and
took in the overtly masculine image of Joe Shey in front of her.

Her own thoughts seemed to mirror his
words.
Want? Oh, yes.
What woman wouldn’t want a piece of this man to
fill her nights, even for a short while? But he was right. She was in no state
of mind to let her heart get wrapped up in a man like Joe. She had no intention
of becoming “Jilted Vi” again.

Setting down her cup, she set her hands
on the table, fingers intertwined. “So we keep it G-rated?”

He glanced at her, his look of longing caressing
her skin, as he let out of low breath. “It may kill me, Vi. But, yeah. I’ve got
several extra bedrooms and you can choose the one you’d like. The party won’t
end till near midnight, and I don’t want you driving the long distance home
afterward.”

She gave a little nod, wondering if this
could be a huge mistake. As sex-starved as she was these days, spending the
night at Joe’s house might be the equivalent of a dieter vacationing in
Hershey, Pennsylvania, dubbed “Chocolatetown” by the tourist industry.

But it’s not like she had a choice. “Consider
me your pretend date for the night. When is it?”

“Saturday.”

“
This
Saturday?”

“Surprise. Have plans this weekend?”

Vi took a copious gulp of her drink,
feeling pathetic knowing the only plans awaiting her on Saturday was an evening
watching
Star Trek: The Next Generation
reruns with Maeve and Bess. Maeve
would invariably remark, “How is it that Picard can be too short, too old, and too
bald, but still so damn sexy?” to which Bess would respond with only a murmur
of agreement.

Yep, she was totally free Saturday. “I’ll
be there. My gala is the Saturday after that. You can get a room at the same
hotel where it’s being held. Or if you want, you can come home with me to
Annapolis. I’m sure Maeve and Bess won’t mind you camping out on the sofa bed.”