SEAL Firsts

by Sharon Hamilton

  “I thought it was Wayne’s fault. But he insists he gave you the right address.”

  “Whatever. It isn’t important anymore.”

  “Never happened before here. Very strange. I’m glad you weren’t really hurt.”

  “No. Just scared out of my gourd. But it was my fault, I guess. Anyway, the tension was getting to me a little, and I wanted to give him a chance to apologize. So, we agreed to have lunch. Well, one thing led to another, and…” She had to tell the little white lie to keep her job. “All we did was kiss. I know what you’re going to say. It was a complete lapse in judgment on my part.”

  Simms chuckled into the phone. “Yeah, those guys can get pretty wound up. Nice lookin’ fella. I can’t say as I blame you. But…Christy…she said it went way beyond kissing. She said…”

  “Just how would she know?” Christy interrupted. “I can’t deny the fact that we were engaged in a very passionate kiss, but, honestly, Mr. Simms, do you really believe we would… It was the model, and, you know… I live right upstairs. If…”

  He sighed. “Yeah. Look, Christy. I get it. Older agent versus a new, young, pretty agent. She thinks you get your business by screwing your clients. Unfortunately, I’ve heard that one before too.”

  “Well, it wasn’t very professional of me. Not right that her clients had to be witness to my little indiscretion.”

  “Oh, hell, they probably didn’t mind it, although she said different.”

  “They were laughing. I’m sure she blew it out of proportion. I don’t even want to know what she told you.”

  Christy knew Simms was blushing even though she couldn’t see his face.

  Yeah, the old biddy told him about the panties.

  “Well, I’m satisfied. As long as you clarify one more thing with me,” Simms words came across short and clipped. Christy braced herself.

  “Sure. What?”

  “Did you enjoy the rest of the afternoon?” He chuckled again.

  “As a matter of fact, I did.” She hung up.

  Total truth, Christy couldn’t stop thinking about Kyle. The hair at the back of her neck and all the way down her spine tickled deliciously where he had kissed her, where she needed him to kiss her now. She stood at a crossroads between spending energy trying to bury her feelings for him and…what?

  Oh. My. God. Am I actually thinking about running after him?

  Something she’d never done. She wasn’t going to beg. Besides, he’d made it clear. For her sake, he would say no.

  He’d walked right back into her life with those damned red signs and the flowers, and had made a nest in her heart. And then something had made him stop. Something Christy knew she didn’t cause.

  What?

  Maybe if she could find him, they could talk it over. Take it slow. She could tell him she didn’t expect a lifetime, just a casual friendship. A little relationship, not a big one. A friendship with benefits.

  How do I do this? Where do I find him? He knew how to reach her, but she had no clue how to find him. She couldn’t just hang around a bunch of bars, hoping for him to show up.

  Could she have offended him in some way? Had he misunderstood her? She just couldn’t let it go. She didn’t do “wait” very well. Wait until he decided to waltz back into her life?

  Never! But if she didn’t talk to him perhaps he would ship out or worse, find someone else.

  No.

  She’d have to go back to that street Armando lived on. Back to the page of the Thomas Bros. guide she had already mentally ripped out of her book.

  Though she was nervous, she had to go back to Armando’s house to search for some evidence of where Kyle was staying.

  Christy’s red Honda puttered down the tree-lined street of Armando’s neighborhood. The sun hung low and on its way to retiring. She drove by the house quickly at first, making sure there wasn’t a car in the driveway. A vacant brown beat-up Buick was parked down the street two doors away. Other than that, the neighborhood seemed empty. A jet streaked across the sky and sent a rumble through the air.

  Fly boy.

  Christy pulled into the driveway in case she needed to make a quick exit. The front door to the house was locked. As she walked around the side, trying the wood sash windows, she heard something inside clatter to the floor. She listened through a window that had closed drapes, but heard no other noise.

  She continued along the side of the house to a wooden gate leading to the rear yard. She pulled a wire latch, and a shallow garden oasis with a lap pool came into view. Everything was neatly maintained, although the grass looked a little long. A few dozen leaves floated in the turquoise water, out of place.

  A pair of concrete steps on the back porch led her to the rear sliding glass door, and, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She slid it open without making a sound.

  As soon as she stepped into the large open kitchen, she knew she’d made a mistake, but her curiosity had been piqued. The house had been ransacked. Things had been tossed everywhere; a chair left upended, cabinet doors flung open, and several dishes lying smashed across the kitchen floor.

  She turned and went down the hallway leading to the now-infamous rear bedroom. Inside the room she found all the sheets had been ripped from the mattress and tossed about. The mattress top was sliced open. Clothes from Armando’s closet were strewn haphazardly all over the place.

  All of a sudden, she heard the front door open and slam shut, and then heard footsteps running outside. Through the living room window she saw two men jump into the brown sedan that had been parked down the street. They pulled a U-turn and left the area.

  Christy quickly checked the rest of the house without touching anything. She was alone. A message light blinked on the phone machine. Using the edge of her jacket, she pushed the button to play it back.

  “Amigo,” a thickly accented voice said. “Thirty minutes. Foothills. Smell fire. They got at least ten. Loaded. Left…” The line went dead. Christy knew she’d just heard the voice of Armando, and he sounded stressed. He’d spoken in some sort of code. She didn’t have time to put together the pieces, but she knew she had to get the message to Kyle right away. Something told her it could mean a matter of life or death. She jotted down the words, replaying the message until she got it right.

  Would Kyle believe her? Well, yes, if he heard the message. But knowing he wanted to disappear, would she even be able to find him?

  She remembered what he’d told her about the community, and how the buzz traveled like the Underground Railroad. Everyone knew about everyone else somehow. So, if she gave one of the Team guys a message, Kyle would come. She was counting on it.

  Christy drove to the Golden Bear Café and searched for square-shouldered, stern-looking men with tattoos and didn’t spot one. But she saw the cook Kyle knew. Griz. Maybe he’d have a suggestion.

  Griz’s unshaved chin was heavily scarred on the right side. His steel blue eyes wandered carefully up and down her torso with a glint of appreciation for another man’s lady. At least that’s how she interpreted it, anyway.

  “Well, hello there. You flying solo today, or is he meeting up with you later?” Griz asked her while wiping his hands on his stained apron.

  “I was hoping you’d remember me,” Christy said as she looked down at her sandaled feet with the pink toenail polish, and then back up to his face before her tears burst loose.

  Damn those pink toes.

  “You’re not exactly easy to forget.” He smiled, but didn’t look at her cleavage, though she could tell he wanted to. She liked that part about this community, the respect they showed her. The direct look without flinching, not hiding the effect she had on him.

  “You wanna beer?” he finally said.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Well then, Missy, what can I do you for?” He chewed on a toothpick as he nodded to a couple just entering the diner.

  “I’m looking for Kyle. It’s important.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen him since y
esterday. With you. Doubt he’ll be here tonight either. Not his scene.”

  “If you could put the word out. I need to talk to him about a friend of his.”

  “Um hum. This a message he’s going to want to hear?” The man pinned her with his eyes, being careful, protective of Kyle.

  “Yes. He’s looking for someone. You know, Armando. I may have some information.”

  “’Kay. So you have some information about Armando. Where should he contact you if I hear from him?”

  Christy fished out her business card. “My cell phone’s at the bottom.”

  Griz flipped the card back and forth against his other thumb, obviously thinking. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. Christy felt the awkwardness of the two of them standing in a nearly empty room.

  “Well. I’ve got to go. I’m going to drive around and see if I can spot his Hummer.”

  He nodded. “You two have a little tiff?”

  “That’s an off-limits question.”

  “Could be, but then Kyle’s a special operator and we look out for each other.”

  “I know about that. Any idea where he’s staying?”

  “You’re asking me? I’m surprised he let you escape.”

  Griz grinned full out, but lopsided and apologetic. She saw the heart of gold inside the rough-hewn man of steel.

  Christy scratched the back of her head, hoping to break the tension and change the mood. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll be off now. But if you think of anything, please give me a call.”

  Christy’s shoulders stiffened as she drove back and forth along the strip lined by little shops across the street from a white expanse of beach. Several times she thought she felt eyes watching her, but upon checking in the rear view mirror, she found no sign of the black Hummer. She ran into three young men in shorts and flip-flops with matching wrap-around sunglasses that screamed military issue at the frozen yogurt stand. She also gave them one of her cards since they hinted they might know Kyle but said they weren’t sure.

  They’re lying.

  She checked her phone to see if she’d missed a call, but her voicemail was empty. The afternoon wafted away from her, so she decided to return home. She hoped to see a black Hummer inside the automatic gate at the underground garage, but no such luck. She stepped into the elevator after parking and made it up to the fourteenth floor.

  A maid vacuuming the hallway nodded a greeting as Christy let herself in the condo.

  Dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes on her way to the bathroom, she automatically massaged the back of her neck, which was still so tight. She recalled how Kyle had protected her head when he leveled her to the ground that first day. This must be some resulting swollen tissue, she thought.

  She slipped off her clothes and prepared a bubble bath. She placed her cell phone to the tub’s edge and picked up a current romance novel she had yet to finish. She’d just submerged in the warm bubbles and lain back against a towel when her cell rang. A strange combination of numbers, not from an area code around San Diego, appeared in a sequence on the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Christy.”

  A shot of electricity traveled down her spine. She’d done a pretty good job of thinking she could maintain her composure until she heard Kyle’s voice. Her will turned to butter.

  “I know you don’t want to have anything to do with me, but—”

  “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  Damn the man.

  “I went over to Armando’s house today,” she said.

  “Now why would you go and do that? Not very smart.”

  “No. But then you know how smart I am, don’t you?”

  “I think you’re one of the smartest girls I’ve ever met, but it was dumb to go over to that house. You must promise me you won’t do it again. Ever. It’s dangerous.”

  “I think I know that now. Don’t worry.”

  Kyle paused. In a soft voice, he asked, “What are you saying?”

  “There were two men there.”

  Christy moved around in the water.

  “Where are you?”

  “In the bathtub.”

  “Oh.” He paused. “So, what did the men look like?”

  “Dark-haired. Young. They ran out the front when I went in the back.”

  “You went into the house?”

  “Yes. The place is a mess. I think they were looking for something. But I scared them off.”

  Kyle chuckled at that. “I could see how you would make a man go weak at the knees. Even two men. Two very bad men.”

  “Not funny. Don’t make fun of me.”

  “I’m not. So after you scared them off, what did you do?”

  “I listened to Armando’s phone message on the answering machine.”

  “What the hell? Christy, you have no business getting involved. You stay out of this, understand?”

  “So do you want to hear the message?”

  Kyle hesitated, breathing hard into the receiver. God she wished he was breathing against the side of her face, kissing her there, looking at her and touching…

  “Yes.”

  “He said ‘Foothills and thirty minutes.’ Then he said ‘Got ten loaded.’ He started to say he left something and then the line went dead.”

  Christy could hear her heart pounding, wondering if he heard it too.

  “Thanks,” he whispered.

  More silence. She would make him talk next, if he wanted to. That’s what she needed to hear. Did he want to or not?

  “I understand you went out of your way to find me. I appreciate that.”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do, Kyle.” She hoped it didn’t sound too strong, so she added as soft and sexy as she could muster, “Because it was important to you.”

  There, she’d said it. Time to figure out if she would have to do a rescue mission on her own heart. A girl’s night out? A romantic movie that made her cry all night long?

  “Well, I thank you.”

  She could tell he had difficulty saying it.

  “So, if you’re free tonight, I am.” God, she hoped he’d say he was.

  “No. We have things we have to do. I’ll give you a call sometime.”

  Her heart fell to the bottom of the tub. That was the answer she had expected. At least her attempt had been worth the try.

  “Okay then, sailor. You know where I live.” She found the courage to hang up on him first. She lay back in the tub and placed a wet washcloth over her eyes, which absorbed the welled-up tears and those continuing to fall.

  No, she didn’t do “wait” very well. She needed to move on.

  Chapter 10

  Kyle stepped into Jimmy’s, the place where the Wall of the Fallen took Kyle’s breath away every time he saw it—all the faces of young, handsome men, cut short in their prime. He usually looked at every one of their pictures as if he were looking right into their eyes, and said a thank you.

  Every time.

  The inscription in the middle, translated from a rough-hewn carving by some anonymous artisan at the graveyard on Iwo Jima read:

  When you go home,

  Tell them for us, and say,

  For your tomorrow,

  We gave our today.

  As tough as he knew his community was, he didn’t know a single Team guy who didn’t choke up reading that.

  Being a SEAL wasn’t all about rah rah or politics. Wasn’t about highs and lows of armed warfare, man on man. Wasn’t about knowing your limits or having a band of brothers. It was about life and death.

  When he and Armando got their very first tattoo together, his the band of barbed wire thorns around his calf, the old artist looked Kyle right in the eyes and said, “So you want to make friends with death, son?”

  He could answer the old man today. But not that day.

  Kyle sat and waited for his team to arrive.

  “I’ve talked to Armando’s mom,” Kyle began, after the group h
ad gathered, “and I think he linked up with this guy, Caesar, who Mia has been hanging around. Apparently, she’s pregnant. Armando went to go find her.”

  “That could be good news. Maybe this asshole won’t hurt her,” Fredo tossed that statement into the mix.

  “Can’t count on that, Fredo.” Kyle worked to keep panic out of his voice.

  Gunny swore and shook his head. “The man must be an animal. I’d say put him down.”

  “Whoa! Gunny. We’re not talking about doing anything like that,” Kyle shot back, alarmed.

  “Be doing the female population a favor, you ask me. But then you didn’t, did you?”

  Cooper narrowed his eyes at Kyle and then winced. “You think they’re still in the area?”

  Kyle nodded. “The message said something about the foothills and thirty minutes away. Said there were ten. Well-armed.” He sighed. “Can you get your friend to track this cell phone?” Kyle handed Cooper a yellow Post-It note with Mia’s cell phone number.

  “Sure. No problem. How old is this?”

  “I think only a couple of hours. This morning there was nothing on the answering machine. But…” He didn’t want to tell them how he got the message. “Well, the message came in sometime after noon. I’m guessing he used Mia’s cell phone, since they took or destroyed his.”

  “You listen to it?” Fredo asked as Cooper got up, presumably to call his friend in the DOJ.

  “Nah. Someone else did. And there’s another thing. Armando’s house has been trashed.”

  “Hey, boss, you got someone else working on this job? Someone we need to know about?” Fredo asked.

  Kyle looked down at his folded hands. He wanted a beer, but he knew he’d need his wits about him in case they got a location. “The lady I was with yesterday afternoon came looking for me.” He didn’t want to make eye contact.

  “Uh huh. Like I said, you gotta start thinking with your other head, boss.”

  “I never had that problem,” Gunny inserted, laughing at Kyle’s obvious discomfort.

  “So Gramps, you knew about this too?” Fredo asked.

  “Shit, yes. My gym’s like a fuckin beauty parlor. I learn everything about the crap you guys get into just from keeping my ears open. Always some newbie or wanna-be who is only too quick to tell me about all your dumb-ass moves.” Gunny coughed. “Although this time, he gave me a full description of the lady in question, like she was naked.”