Contract with a SEAL (Special Ops: Homefront Book 3) (8 page)

Of course Joe’s only nephew would worry. The
war had already cost him his dad’s life.

“I’ll be there,” he said. “I’d know by
now if something was coming down the pike.” Even as he said it, he felt his
insides clench up at the promise that had escaped his lips. He wasn’t in a
position to make promises to anyone, especially to an eight-year-old boy. “I’ll
forward you my plane itinerary if it will make you feel better.”

“No need. It’s not like the Navy would
delay a mission just because you bought a plane ticket.”

“I’ll be there. Don’t worry. Tell Brandon
to start working on his pitching. I’ll take him to the park every day I’m there,
snow or not.”

“Okay, Joe. Love you.”

“Ditto,” he responded, somehow unable to
speak the endearment to his sister in front of his Petty Officer.

Joe gave a curt nod when he hung up the
phone. “Sorry about that, Gibbon.”

“Going away somewhere with Ms. Owens for
the holiday, Sir?”

Joe suppressed a grin at the Petty
Officer’s boldness as he placed a set of papers on his desk, ready for his
signature. Vi’s presence at the party had made a bit more of an impression than
he had intended. He hadn’t expected everyone to like her so much. “Uh, no. She
has family plans. And I’m going out to my sister’s in Sedona.”

“Oh.” He seemed almost let down by the
news. Like everyone else, YN2 Gibbon must have been hoping to see Vi around the
base a few times before Joe shifted jobs in the new year.

 Signing the last paper, Joe looked
up. “How about you? Headed anywhere for the holidays?”

“Yes, Sir. My wife and I are meeting in
Chicago for the weekend.”

This was news. All Joe had heard about Gibbon’s
wife was that she hadn’t followed her husband on his last PCS. Joe had assumed
the marriage was on the rocks. Theirs wouldn’t have been the first marriage Joe
had seen fall victim to an unexpected PCS across the country.

“That’s great, Gibbon.”

“Yeah, we try to meet there any weekend
we can. Kind of a nice halfway point for us. The city’s grown on us. That
lakeshore’s pretty spectacular.”

Joe narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He
didn’t want to pry, but he was just damn curious. “So she, uh, just didn’t want
to leave California when you came here?”

“Oh, she wanted to. But she’s a lawyer. She’s
got her career set up there.” Gibbon collected the papers. “It’s hard. I’m
hoping I’ll get stationed out there again.”

“There’s a good chance of that.”

“We just figured we had to reinvent how
things are done, you know? Nothing wrong with maintaining two households for a
while. Kind of just like when I’m deployed, except that at least I get to see
her once in a while. I’m living on the cheap here. It’s only two years.
Compared to the rest of our lives together, that’s really nothing, right?”

“Right. Good for both of you.” The Petty
Officer’s words somehow made Joe’s memory slip backward to his own failed marriages.
What would have happened if he had been willing to reinvent how things were done?
Gone were the days when wives were always able to drop everything on a dime and
follow their husbands, quite literally, to the ends of the earth. It might work
for some, but certainly not all of them.

Tapping the papers into a neat stack, Gibbon
gave a nod as he exited, just as Joe heard his phone buzz on his desk. Frowning,
he stood to grab his coat. If it was Becca again, he might just have to let it
go to voice mail till she piped down on the topic of Vi Owens.

When he looked at the text message from
Vi, he needed to sit back down.

“Mind if I stay with you the night of the
gala? People might see me leave alone, and that would blow our cover,” it read.

Letting out a long breath, he leaned back
in his chair and gazed ruefully at the ceiling tiles above him. Sure, he had
offered her to stay with him, picturing the need being based on whether she had
too much alcohol gushing through her veins. That was a no-brainer. Any
half-decent guy can muster up enough control when safety is at stake.

But the idea of her actually staying
there, completely sober and utterly tempting was enough to cause his blood
pressure to skyrocket.

What exactly did she think he was made
of?

The more time he spent with Vi Owens, the
more he wanted her. The more they talked, the more her every word seemed to
chip away at his protective armor.

One more night. That’s all he’d have to survive.
Then they’d go their separate ways.

But a lot can happen in one night.

Her skin flushed from nervous energy, Vi
stood in the spacious hotel bathroom with the door shut, slipping the gown over
her head.

As the spicy red satin dropped against
her skin, she immediately was grateful she had chosen the dress. The way it
hugged her curves made her feel like a 1940s pin-up girl.

Placing her finger to her neck, she felt
her rapid-fire pulse and cursed the cup of Starbucks she had picked up on the
drive to DC. But she couldn’t entirely blame the java. The lethal combination
of seeing her bastard ex tonight at the gala and the exhilarating idea of
seducing Joe Shey was enough to send her to the emergency room.

Resting her ear to the bathroom door, she
tapped on it. “You decent out there?” she called to Joe who was changing in the
room.

“Nothing out here you haven’t seen on
someone else, Vi.”

Vi opened the door and nearly passed out
from the sight of him.

Nothing she hadn’t seen before on someone
else? Was he joking? He had the kind of muscles that belong in a human anatomy
textbook.
Gather round, students, and observe the male form in peak
condition.

Shirtless, with only his pants covering
his broad form, he was leaning over the jacket that was laid out on the bed.

Ripped shoulders extended outward to the
taut, muscles of his arms that moved as he pinned medals onto his uniform
jacket. A six pack formed a tight V at his lower belly, that, by God, seemed to
actually be pointing downward, forcing her to notice the bulge at his crotch.

And his pecs.
Have mercy… his pecs…

Approaching him in utter disbelief, she
poked one of them playfully. “Did you buy these in a store? Because honey, they
really don’t look like anything natural.”

Joe cracked a smile, but didn’t even
glance up from what he was doing. “I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or
an insult.”

“Compliment, definitely.” Her mouth
watered. “What are you doing?”

“Got some new medals since the last time
I wore this. I need to add them.”

“What for? I mean, what did you get the
medals for?”

He shrugged. “For doing my job.”

“It’s getting a little crowded on that
side,” she said, daring to stand next to him. The heat from his body seemed to caress
her skin, even a few inches from him, and goose bumps popped up along her
exposed arms. “Can you put them on the other side?”

Joe let out a low chuckle. “No, every
medal has an exact location where it’s supposed to go.”

“No wonder all those Admirals look so
lopsided,” she replied lamely, cringing after she said it. What was it about
him that turned her into an awkward schoolgirl? Maybe she just wasn’t up to
seducing him.

No, seduction wasn’t exactly listed on
the résumé of Vi Owens.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind next time
I’m being intimidated by a four-star,” Joe laughed quietly, pinning on the last
medal and finally looking up from the uniform to Vi. His eyes widened. “You
look like a goddess, Vi.”

She took an indulgent spin. “A goddess of
finance, I hope.”

Joe shook his head slowly, not pulling
his eyes from the dress. “No. There’s nothing Wall Street about that dress. Sorry
if that disappoints you.”

Vi smiled a little at the compliment, and
felt his heated gaze take her in. “I’ll live.”

“Your ex is going to have a heart attack
when he sees you in that.”

“I hope so. Not literally, of course.” She
paused, glancing in the mirror above the dresser. “Well, maybe a little heart
attack. The kind that would take red meat and French fries off his diet for the
rest of his life. He did cheat on me, after all.”

Vi tried not to frown as Joe reached for
his shirt and slipped his arms into the sleeves. She really could have happily
ogled him all night. The jacket went on next, shimmering in the evening light
with all those medals.

He was too much for her, she considered. He
wasn’t the barely above average guy she usually dated—the kind of man who
defined himself more by the kind of car he drove than by how many pounds he
could bench-press, simply because signing a lease for a car was a hell of a lot
easier.

How does one seduce a man like Joe Shey? Do
they play by a separate set of rules? When a man looks like that, he can pretty
much have any girl he wants.

He couldn’t possibly want her. Sultry red
dress or not. The guy was a freaking superhero.

Touching her shoulder as he stood beside
her, he joined her in gazing at their reflection in the mirror. “So, do we look
like the happy couple?”

Vi whistled low and long at the sight of
him at her side. “I was disappointed when Lacey told me you wouldn’t be wearing
the dress whites you had on at the wedding. But I have to say, I actually like
this uniform better.” The dark blue was almost black, making the medals stand
out even more. He looked more than handsome. He looked dangerous.

He glanced at his watch. “Are we
fashionably late yet?”

“I think so.” She bit her lip nervously.

He extended his arm to her.

“Wait.” She rallied her determination.
“Kiss me,” she said quickly, albeit inelegantly, before she could talk herself
out of it. “You know, to give us that spark of chemistry again? And uh, maybe
for a little courage, too. It’s not fun facing the man who stampeded my heart
so publicly.”

Stepping toward her, he brushed his hand
against her cheek, and lifted her chin up toward his 6’2” form.

“One for chemistry,” he said, placing his
lips lightly against hers, cradling the back of her neck with his hands. She
could feel his gentle breath against her skin and it awakened every nerve
ending, making her shiver.

As he pulled away barely an inch, she
wanted to weep as her body demanded more of the sensation.

“And one for courage.” His voice was
barely a whisper as he joined their lips again. Suddenly more demanding, he
parted her lips, and she tasted him as her heart raced, hormones surging.

Hands gliding down her sides, he followed
the silky curve of the dress to her back. His warmth seeped through his
uniform, penetrating her skin, making her ache to feel his bare skin against hers.

Yes, she wanted this. Wanted him. Even if
she could only have him for the night.

With his tongue still gently toying with
her, she felt his hand slip beneath the dress’s revealing back. His fingers
dipped dangerously close to her panties, and she could feel a throbbing heat pooling
at her center.

Lifting his lips from hers, his eyes were
filled with need. Need to have more of her later, she hoped, because she
certainly planned on making the offer.

“Better?” he asked.

She bit her lower lip, still tasting his
slight salty, mint flavor. “Well, I’m not so sure. But I’m definitely not
thinking about my ex right now.”

***

Civilians were so predictable when Joe
wore Mess Dress, the Navy’s equivalent to black tie. And these people, even
with their recognizable TV personas and well-heeled bank accounts, were no
different.

Gravitating his way, they were attracted
to his uniform like moths to a flame.

Joe had never understood the appeal of a dress
uniform—the medals weighing down his jacket, the bow tie he desperately
wanted to rip off his neck, or the godforsaken “crumbcatcher” cummerbund the
Navy made him wear with this uniform, as if the rest weren’t torture enough.

Some came to shake his hand and thank him
for his service—a gesture, he’d admit, he always appreciated. In this
crowd, though, people seemed more interested in inviting him in for an
interview, especially when they discovered he was a SEAL commander. One
producer even was so bold as to tell him if he left the Navy, he could get a
job as an on-air pundit.

Joe had to laugh at the idea of himself
on TV. He was too much of an action guy to be trapped in front of a camera.

Vi’s assessment had been dead-on. His
presence at her side definitely distracted from the ex in her past, whom Vi
pointed out to him on the sly. Sitting one table away from theirs, with his
hair slicked back and his eyes shifty, he had the look of a man who needed to
get taken down a notch or two.

Oh, how Joe was willing to volunteer for
that mission.

Glancing at Vi as one of the speakers
droned on, she looked like she was in her element, confident and smooth. But
after spending time with her, Joe knew she would much prefer to be living a
quiet life in jeans and a t-shirt, watching stocks rise and fall on her
computer. Vi didn’t like being in the limelight like this, and he couldn’t help
wondering why she bothered with it. With her talent and intelligence, she could
excel at anything she wanted.

After the last round of applause was
given to a speaker, people started to get up and mingle, the night coming to an
efficient close. He saw her expression change slightly as they left their seats
at the sight of Josh approaching her.

Joe felt his fists form. Don’t make a scene,
he told himself as he slipped his arm along Vi’s waist possessively.

“Joshua.” Vi’s voice lacked expression as
she gave him a nod.

The man leaned slightly forward as though
he might give her a kiss in greeting. But when Vi turned her chin, it sent the
clear message that there were no friendly overtures here.

Josh looked at Joe, pulling his lips
together tightly in a frown as he extended his hand. “Joshua Kildare.”

Joe took it and squeezed a little harder
than he should, enjoying the lesser man’s slight wince before letting up. “Joe
Shey.”

“
Captain
Joe Shey, Josh,” another
man chimed into the conversation as he approached them. Joe recognized him as
someone he had met earlier in the evening. His eyes were slightly glazed over
now, and Joe guessed that the scotch in his hand was not the first of his
evening. “This guy led dozens of SEAL missions and he’s just promised to give
us an interview.”

Joe smiled. “I didn’t hear myself promise
that.”

“The night’s not over yet,” the man
responded with a laugh, taking another sip of his drink. “SEALs are damn good
for ratings. I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

“I’ve had more than one of those offers
tonight. You’ve got some competition.” Joe glanced at Vi, who was obviously
uncomfortable standing this close to her ex-husband. He couldn’t blame her. “But
you’ll have to hold off on that till later. We were just about to leave. It was
nice to meet you both.” Joe extended his hand to both men.

 “Nice to see you Brian,” Vi said as
she extended her hand to the half-sloshed man. She pulled her hand back and
gave Joshua a curt nod. “Josh.”

With his arm attached to her waistline, Joe
led her a few steps away from the men and stopped, pulling her closer toward
him.

They’re still watching
. Joe knew it without even looking behind
him. Enough years in the SEALs gave him a strong instinct for when he was being
watched. Going for broke, he took Vi’s face in his hands and kissed her—a
light, sensual kiss he hoped hinted of a promise that would be kept later on
that night.

Of course, it was a promise he couldn’t
fulfill. But there was no need to let anyone else know that.

Vi’s mouth curved up into a smile that
heated him beneath the confining layers of his dress uniform. Still holding her
close, he felt her chest rise and fall against him, and saw a few camera
flashes go off nearby.

Oh, his teams were going to have a field
day with him if those photos hit the presses. It was lucky he was leaving the
country because that would be the only excuse they’d accept for letting a woman
like Vi slip through his fingers.

As they stepped into the long hallway
just outside the ballroom, he filled his lungs with the cool air. The woman had
the same effect on him as a shot of whiskey.

Still surrounded by several pairs of
eyes, people loitered, tapping into their smartphones or talking loudly on
their cells, dropping the names of DC power players so that everyone would know
just how important they were.

Vi wrapped her arms around his neck and
pulled his face close to hers. “You are a hell of an actor,” she said quietly
enough that only he could hear.

“I’m actually not. You’re just damn
appealing in that dress.”

“Good.”

Good?
What exactly did that mean for the night ahead? He hoped
she’d drop the nuances as soon as they returned to the hotel room or he’d be
lost to her.

Brushing a loose tendril of hair from her
face, he tucked it behind her ear. Such adorable ears, he noted, wishing he
could place gentle kisses along the tender curves. He nearly shuddered at the
notion, trying to change his mindset back to that of a protective friend. That’s
all he could be, he reminded himself. “I nearly planted my fist in your ex’s
face, by the way.”