Contract with a SEAL (Special Ops: Homefront Book 3) (4 page)

“Thanks, but I’ll just book a room.”

“All right. Are you sure you don’t want
me to—”

Joe held up his hand to silence her. “I’ll
book the room.” He reached for his beer and raised it. “So,” he said, as he
clinked his bottle against her cup, “deal?”

“Deal.”

“And now that we have our contract
negotiations settled, let’s order.”

And now that I know you’re off the menu…
Vi gave a little nod of agreement.
“Sounds good.”

***

It was past eleven when Vi slipped into
the dark house. Kicking off her heels, she fought the blush that was creeping
up her cheeks.

For an evening that wasn’t supposed to be
a date, it certainly had quite an effect on her.

Standing again, she went to the kitchen
for a glass of wine. She needed something to wind her down from an evening with
the über sexy SEAL commander.

And she was going to be spending the
night at his house this weekend? Was she out of her mind? She’d need a sedative
just keep her hands off him.

Touching the bottle of Chardonnay in the
fridge, she spotted something more curious next to it.
Eggnog!
Grinning,
she slipped the bottle from the door of the fridge, and gave a little nod at
the words, “15% alcohol,” on the label. The grown up kind, spiked heavily and
laden with fat calories.
Happy holidays, indeed.

She poured herself a hefty
glass—she didn’t have to be in the office till ten tomorrow,
anyway—and went back into the living room. Glancing momentarily at the
unlit Christmas tree, she stooped over to plug it in and stepped back, warmed
by the colorful glow.

In her apartment in New York before she
moved to Atlanta, she hadn’t bothered with a tree. With her hours at work,
there was little time to sit back and enjoy it. But she had made a point to
walk past the one at Rockefeller Center any chance she had, and watch the
skaters in front of the tree try to outdo each other with their skills. It had
always looked so romantic, couples skimming along the ice, hand in hand, and
grabbing a steaming cup of hot cocoa afterward.

Yet Vi had never stepped out on that ice.
With someone else, or even alone for that matter. There never seemed to be
enough time. When Josh and she dated while in Manhattan, they were always
rushing from work to endless business functions during the holidays.

And, if she were to be honest with
herself, she knew that if she had gone ice skating with Josh, it would never
have been as magical as it seemed in her imagination. He would have spent the
time looking at his watch, or wanted to skip cocoa afterward, or wouldn’t have
held her hand as they skated.

No, there wasn’t a lot of romance between
them. And if she had ever had a sampling of such a thing in her life, looking
back, she doubted she ever would have given Josh a second look.

Sitting on the couch, she let the alcohol
in the eggnog rocket through her veins.

Wishing someone in the house was awake, she
felt the need to have another voice snap her back into prosaic reality. Spending
the evening with a man who looked like Adonis, mixed with the sappiness of the
holiday season was proving to be a dangerous combination for her sensible self.
Glancing at her watch, she reached for her purse and pulled out her cell phone.
With the time difference, Lacey would be having dinner around now, she thought
as she punched in the numbers.

“Hello?”

Vi smiled at the sound of her sister.
“Hey, Lacey.”

“What are you doing up this late? It must
be midnight there.”

“Not quite, but nearly. I just got back
from my dinner with Joe.”

“Ooohh. How was it?”

Vi rested her feet on the table in front
of her. “Very… intriguing.”

“So what was it that he wanted from you?”

“Nothing sordid. Too bad, huh?” Vi snickered
quietly, so that she wouldn’t wake up anyone else in the house.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“He just needs me to play his date for
this party he throws for his teams and their families. He doesn’t like being
single right now—too many team wives trying to set him up or whatever.”

“Oh, makes sense. Bases can get a little
thick with gossip sometimes. I can only imagine how much people would like to
talk about the hot single commander.” She paused, and Vi heard her chewing
something. She could picture her sister at her kitchen table, eating a bite of
one of those frozen Italian meals she always ate. Like Vi, Lacey wasn’t much of
a cook. Their parents hadn’t given them much appreciation for time spent in the
kitchen. “So are you going to do it?”

“Of course, if he’ll go to my gala in
return. And I’d do it anyway, actually. He’s really a nice guy. We danced a lot
at the wedding, but not much talking, especially since I was slurring my speech
by 9 p.m. He wasn’t quite as intimidating tonight as he was in his dress
uniform, either.”

Lacey paused. “He dressed like a civilian?
My God. Mick will be blown away by that image. He said once he’d swear the guy
slept in his uniform.”

“Well, he actually was in uniform, but it
just wasn’t the one with all those shiny medals.”

“Oh. His khakis. Ha. Figures.”

“He didn’t have a choice, though. Just
flew up here for the briefing. He’s on a plane right now back to Norfolk.”

“Are you getting defensive of him
already?” Lacey laughed. “That’s interesting.”

“Oh, stop it. Besides, if I looked as
good in a uniform as him, I’d probably live in the damn thing, too. The man is
serious eye candy.”

“So when’s the party?”

“This Saturday.”

“Where are you staying?”

“His place.”

Vi heard Lacey cough on something. “You
okay, Lacey?”

“Fine. Just something went down the wrong
hatch. So, umm, you’re comfortable with that?”

“Comfortable spending the night with the
sexiest man alive? Hell, I should be racing off to Victoria’s Secret to buy
something new. But we’ve decided to just keep things as friends.”

“Why?”

“He’s leaving in a few weeks. He doesn’t like
to get things messy. Doesn’t want to be the next rat-bastard in line who chews
me up and spits me out.”

“Nice visual, Vi.”

“Yeah, well…”

“And you’re fine with this?”

“God, yes. He’s 100% right. People are
still talking about my last break-up. I don’t need them talking about my next
one.” Vi shifted to lie down on the couch facing the tree. “Did Maeve and Bess
tell you we’ve got the tree up?”

“Yeah.”

“It reminds me of the trees we always had
growing up. Abby isn’t even two yet, but already it’s covered in her homemade
ornaments.”

“Remember the ones we made in
kindergarten?”

“The ones with the macaroni glued to
them, and spray painted with silver? How could I forget? They were hideous.”

Lacey sighed. “I wish I was there.”

“I wish you were, too. Are you sure you
don’t want to come out? School will be out in a couple weeks, right?”

“Yeah. But I just want to stay put. I
didn’t even like being in Chicago for Thanksgiving, you know? I know it’s
weird, but somehow being here just makes me feel a bit closer to Mick.”

Vi swirled the last of the eggnog in her
glass. “How about I come out there?”

“No. You just started a new job.”

Vi shrugged. “New job, same network. All
my vacation time followed me, and Lord knows I have tons of it. Just think
about it.”

“I will. Thanks, Vi.”

“Okay, well, I should let you go.” Vi
felt a pinch in her throat, not wanting to hang up. “Love you.” The words
flowed awkwardly from her, yet she still felt the need to say them.

“Love you, too. Thanks for calling.”

Vi set her phone down on the table and finished
off her drink. She missed her sister, and the sensation was somehow odd to her.
What was it about this house that had her feel the longing for family? Most of
her adult life she had been so caught up in the rat race of her career that she
had only called her sister when there was news to share.

One of the many framed photos on the wall
caught her eye. Spanning at least three decades, every one of them had been
taken right here on this little plot of land overlooking the Bay. Maeve had inherited
the house from her grandmother, the same beautiful woman who now stared down at
Vi from an ornately carved oak frame. In that photo, the woman held a girl in
her arms, not much older than Abigail. It was Maeve as a child, Vi had been
told.

Next to that, was a photo of Maeve and
her brother as teenagers fishing from the same little dock that even now jutted
into the water from the backyard.

Vi spotted herself in the group picture that
was next to the fishing photo. In a sterling silver frame with a thick cream
mat, the black and white image had been taken at Lacey’s wedding just a few
months ago. Vi was laughing in the photo—probably the first time she had
truly laughed since her husband had left her. They had been planting a tree in
Maeve’s backyard at the close of the reception to symbolize the lasting love
between Mick and Lacey. Mick had bent over to grasp a handful of dirt and
pretended he was going to toss it at Lacey in her stark white wedding dress. Maeve,
Bess, and Vi were holding Lacey’s arms as they laughed, pulling the bride out
of the line of fire.

Frozen in time, the image warmed her,
making her feel somehow flattered to be a part of a wall that was clearly
dedicated to family and the best of friends.

Once again, it was Lacey’s
doing—allowing Vi into this close-knit social circle. Things were no
different now than they had been most of her life.

This was a home for family, Vi thought as
her eyes drifted back to the glowing tree that filled her with a sense of
belonging. It was one of those places that crept into a person’s soul,
reminding her of what was important.

She’d be with her sister this Christmas,
resolving to show up on Lacey’s doorstep whether Lacey liked it or not.

***

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Sitting on the flight to Norfolk, Joe
imagined he’d be repeating those words to himself a lot over the next two
weeks.

What had he been thinking? At Mick’s
wedding, it hadn’t been that hard to behave himself around Vi.

But, God help him, she was a lot sexier
when she wasn’t drunk off her ass. She was actually interesting, sharp-witted,
and a little sharp-tongued, too. Just enough to be able to hold her own with a
Sailor and SEAL like himself. And she was BLUF—Bottom Line Up Front. No
hidden agenda. He liked that in a woman.

He hadn’t seen that aspect of her when
she was drowning her sorrows in a dangerous mix of champagne and Jack Daniels
at the latter half of the wedding. Half the reason he had assigned himself to
her side that evening was to make sure that some other guy didn’t move in and
take advantage. Single SEALs and Sailors were swarming Maeve’s home the night
of the wedding. But they wouldn’t get within five feet of the vulnerable Vi
Owens if their CO showed the slightest interest in her.

Joe remembered what it was like getting
slapped with a divorce decree. The first time—well, that was a bit of a
fog since he had been barely out of the Academy and still shell-shocked from the
realities that came with military life. But the second time? That was a killer.
Fresh from his first SEAL deployment, thinking he’d be coming home to a doting
wife, he discovered he’d been summarily replaced.

No, whether Vi liked it or not, Joe
wouldn’t let someone else move in on her in a susceptible state like that.

But the Vi he had sat across from tonight
at dinner was… someone else entirely.

Joe sat in the window seat and stared at
the darkness outside the plane. Turning his head slightly, he gave a nod to the
blonde to the left of him who had just tried, for the fourth time, to strike up
a conversation. Sending him more than a few “available” signals, she had
crossed and re-crossed her legs, managing to brush her spray-tanned calf
against his pant leg every time.

Not interested, he tried to subtly
express, not wanting to be rude, but also wanting to be alone with his
thoughts. He had enough woman trouble right now, in the form of a self-imposed hands-off
policy for a sultry financial correspondent that would be playing house with
him this Saturday night.

 Shutting his eyes and pretending to
sleep, he regretted not making the drive up to DC for the briefing. Four hours
by car wasn’t much longer than the one-hour flight by the time he factored in
the time it took to get through security.

But then he’d be doing something, rather
than sitting on his ass thinking about his current predicament.

He’d lived through dozens of SEAL
missions. But it was one hands-off night with Vi Owens that could very well
kill him.