SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle

by S. M. Butler

He wanted to grab her, and he wanted to howl. He did neither. He’d expected this quite honestly. Because he knew her, and he knew she’d run. “So that’s it, huh? I’m a one-night stand now?”

  This time she met his gaze, her green eyes flashing fire. “What do you propose, Dane? A new relationship? I work for the DEA, and you’re a SEAL. It could be months before we see each other again.”

  He knew she was right, and yet part of him wanted to tell her it didn’t matter. That they’d figure it out. Because one thing he knew after a night with her was that he hadn’t stopped being addicted. Not at all.

  But what good was an addiction to someone when you couldn’t make anything else work? He wasn’t giving up his career for her. She wasn’t giving up hers for him. They’d already risked enough by falling into bed together on a crucial operation. Best to put it behind them and move on.

  “Whatever you want, Ivy,” he said, turning away from her and strolling over to flip the coffeepot on.

  He heard the door to the bathroom shut, and then he retrieved his phone to dial his team leader. Before he could press the first button, the phone buzzed.

  “Erikson,” he answered.

  “We have intel on Bad Medicine,” Matt said. “Need you to get over here ASAP.”

  Chapter Twenty

  ‡

  Ivy felt like hell as she looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t know why she’d told Dane they couldn’t be together again, except that she’d looked at him standing there naked and ready to defend her, and her heart had thumped impossibly hard. Her stomach had squeezed tight, and feelings she’d thought she’d buried slid and writhed beneath the surface of her skin.

  She was in danger of feeling too much, and she’d panicked. But it was the right choice, because she couldn’t go through the anguish. She couldn’t risk her heart again, knowing that she might not be enough for him. That he might get bored or fed up and leave her the way her father had.

  Ivy lowered her head a moment and concentrated on breathing. She knew why her father had left. Her mother never said so, but Ivy knew it was her fault. A kid changed things, and he hadn’t been ready for those changes. When Ivy’s mother wanted to settle down in one place and raise her, give her some stability, her father wanted nothing of it. He’d used the Navy as his excuse, sailing away for months at a time. And then one day he left for good.

  A rap sounded on the door and she jumped. “Yes?”

  “We have to get over to Matt Girard’s cabin. They’ve got intel on Bad Medicine.”

  “Be a few seconds,” she said before hurriedly cleaning up and pulling on the silk tank and cropped pants she’d left hanging on the shower rod last night. When she emerged, Dane was dressed and waiting for her. He looked lethal in his cargo pants, deck shoes, and a white T-shirt that molded to his impressive pecs. She knew he had a gun tucked away in an ankle holster and a knife strapped to his belt. He was handsome and virile, and her belly fluttered anew at the thought of all they’d done to each other in the night.

  He looked up at her as she walked into the room. His eyes were chilly.

  “Grab your gear, Ivy. We aren’t coming back here.”

  She hurried to the room they’d shared last night, pointedly ignoring the rumpled sheets as she grabbed everything and stuffed it into her suitcase. When she reached the door, she paused to look at the bed one more time.

  It was one night of sex. One damn night—and already she felt as hooked on him as she ever had when she’d been his wife.

  When she turned to go, Dane was watching her. She didn’t speak, just stared back at him until he reached down and picked up his own bag, breaking the eye contact.

  “Let’s go,” he told her.

  They walked in silence to the cabin where HOT was meeting. It was still early, but there were tourists out now, walking the paths, going to the beach for sunrise views, getting an early breakfast, or hitting the gym. Some of those people looked happy, and Ivy envied them. What must it be like to be on a vacation with your lover, enjoying the amenities and having nothing more pressing to decide than whether to go to dinner or order room service because you were so into each other you couldn’t bother getting dressed?

  She wouldn’t know. She’d never known because she’d never stopped panicking long enough to lose herself in the moment.

  When they reached their destination, Dane opened the door and waited for her to go first. Several of the guys looked up when she walked in. She dropped her bag on the floor and kept on walking over to where someone had made a pot of coffee. She poured a cup, grabbed a donut from a tray, and took a seat beside Ace.

  He gave her one of his concerned looks, but she shrugged it off and then patted his hand. He gave his head a slight shake, and she knew she was being chastised for sleeping with Dane. She deserved it considering how often she’d sworn to him that Dane had been a jerk.

  Matt walked to the front of the room and started to speak. “We’ve had some intel that indicates Bad Medicine is going out today, but not for the usual fishing run. They aren’t taking on passengers, and the crew is made up of the men we have in our dossiers. They’re either making a practice run, or they’ve made contact with our sub.”

  “We need to be out there.” It was Dane who’d spoken.

  “Yes, we do. We’ve arranged to rent some fishing boats. We’re going sailing today like a bunch of tourists.”

  “They can’t possibly be planning to offload a missile in broad daylight,” Chase Daniels said.

  Fiddler, they called him. She wondered why. Did he play a fiddle? Or was it just a joke of some sort? She knew that call signs often were jokes or plays on the obvious. Dexter “Double Dee” Davidson—now that was obvious, though why they didn’t just call him DeeDee and be done with it she didn’t know. She understood Flash Gordon and Billy the Kid. Knight Rider for McKnight, Big Mac for MacDonald, Brandy for Brandon—wow, these guys weren’t all that original, were they? Iceman was one of those dudes who seemed cool under pressure, so maybe that’s where they’d gotten his name.

  And she had no idea what Matt’s name was, come to think of it. Dane was Viking, which made sense considering his real name was so Norse sounding.

  “No, probably not,” Matt said. “But they could be planning to get into position and troll the area all day. The sub will probably surface sometime after nightfall.” His gaze slewed over to Ivy and Ace. “You two will have to sit this one out. You aren’t trained for this kind of op.”

  Cold anger fizzed inside Ivy’s veins. “We damn sure are. Who do you think confiscates drugs coming into the US? The Junior League of Key West? We’ve worked with the Coast Guard to apprehend smugglers. This isn’t our first dance, you know.”

  “It’s dangerous out there,” Dane said.

  Ivy swung around to glare at him. “You think I don’t know that? What part of ‘we’ve done this before’ don’t you get?”

  She could see Ace grinning beside her, and she wanted to smack him. He was enjoying this far too much when he should be as incensed as she was.

  “They can play tourists,” Big Mac said, shrugging. “Put them on a cabin cruiser and put Ivy in a bikini. It’s not like we haven’t infiltrated a secure compound before by using a woman in a bikini as a distraction.”

  “And what a fine distraction your wife was,” Chase said. “Especially when she took off her top.”

  “Watch it, asshole,” Big Mac growled. “Lucky’s not here to save your ass if I decide to kick it for you.”

  Chase kept on grinning. “I’ll tell Lucky. You know she hates it when you get all macho about her role on the team.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Big Mac muttered, but he didn’t take a swing at Chase.

  Ivy thought she might like to meet this Lucky. She sounded like a hell of a woman if she could make that big man back down with only the threat of her learning he’d kicked someone’s ass on her behalf.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Matt said. “Worked the last time, didn’t it? Fine,
Ivy and Ace can go on the cabin cruiser.”

  “She’s not wearing a bikini,” Dane said to the room.

  Ivy stood and popped her huands on her hips as she faced her ex-husband. “Stay out of this, Dane. I’ll wear my fucking birthday suit if it helps get those assholes before they can deploy their weapon.”

  Dane looked militant. “You don’t need to be out there. Stay here and monitor the marina with Ace—”

  “Fuck you,” Ivy shot back. She was aware the gazes of the men were bouncing between her and Dane like a Ping-Pong ball. No doubt they were highly entertained, but she was furious that Dane would try to shove her to the sidelines.

  “Enough,” Matt barked. “Ivy and Ace can help. Tourists on the cabin cruiser, observation only. We can always use extra eyes on the perimeter. Wear a bikini or not, I don’t really fucking care. Now, can we get back to business, or do you two want to discuss wardrobe issues some more?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‡

  It was a glorious day in the Keys, sunny and breezy, not too hot yet, with a sky so blue it hurt the eyes and a sparkling ocean spreading as far as a person could see. In the end, Ivy and Ace wound up on the cabin cruiser alone while the team split themselves between fishing boats. They were in the area, but not always visible. Occasionally she lifted the binoculars and spotted one of them, but she didn’t know which one.

  Bad Medicine had left the dock on Emerald Key earlier, but there was no sign of her out here. Ivy adjusted her bikini top—she’d worn the bikini, but she’d knotted a floor-length wrap over the bottoms—and lifted the binoculars again.

  She thought of that moment when she’d walked onto the dock and Dane had seen her. His eyes ate her up, but then his jaw hardened and he turned away, pretending not to care. She knew it was pretense because she knew Dane. He cared—and she’d been both gratified that he did and angry with herself at the same time. Angry because she couldn’t stop reacting to him, angry because last night had felt so damn good. Angry because she’d told him no more.

  She loved the possessive look in his eyes even when she pushed him away. And that was wrong of her. She shouldn’t regret doing the right thing for them both, and yet there was a pit in her stomach that hadn’t stopped aching.

  She scanned the horizon again. The radio had been silent for over an hour. They had a secure channel, but there was no chatter at the moment. Ace kicked back on the deck, cell phone in one hand, icy cold drink in the other. The scent of sun-warmed coconut wafted from him.

  “Man, this is the life, Ivy. Think we could get stationed down here permanently?”

  Ivy lowered the binoculars and looked at him. He was naked except for a tiny Speedo. He was also gleaming with oil. She couldn’t help but smile.

  “I doubt that. Besides, what would you do about Maximo?”

  Ace’s face grew dreamy. “I’d ask him to move down here with me.”

  “Isn’t that a little fast? You’ve only been dating for a couple of months.”

  Ace gave her a look. “Seriously? You’re going to give me advice when you fucked your ex-husband last night after swearing you never wanted to lay eyes on the bastard again?”

  Ivy’s cheeks burned. “You have no idea what happened, so stop trying to pry it out of me. Besides, we’re talking about you.”

  Ace snorted, ignoring the second part of that statement and attacking the first. “Honey, that man is a walking orgasm waiting to happen—and he was naked and you were wearing his shirt this morning. You fucked him—and I really don’t blame you, by the way. I’d fuck him too if he’d have me.”

  Ivy flopped down on the bench seat cushion. The boat rocked gently in the water and the radio played Top 40 hits. What was the point in denying it? Ace was her partner and probably her best friend.

  “Fine, I had a lapse in judgment. I haven’t had sex in too long to remember, and I know how amazing it can be with Dane. So yes, when he kissed me, I lost all my good intentions. And the orgasms were completely worth it. I don’t regret it at all.”

  Which wasn’t completely true, but Ace didn’t need to know that.

  Ace’s brow wrinkled. “So what happens when this is over? You seeing him again?”

  Ivy lowered her head until her hair fell over her cheek, curtaining her face from his view. “I don’t think it’s a good idea… so no.”

  “Probably right then. The heart knows.” Ace’s phone dinged and he lifted it to peer at the text. Then he laughed. “Max sent me a dick pic. Want to see?”

  Ivy held up a hand. “God no. What makes men think women want to see dicks on their phones?”

  “I don’t know about women, but I want to see as many as possible.” His fingers flew over his screen.

  Ivy pushed her hair behind her ear and turned her head to look at the water. It was peaceful out here, but she wasn’t feeling very peaceful inside. No, she was feeling jumpy and achy. She was a bit sore, and that only made her think of Dane and what he’d done to her last night.

  And what she’d done to him. No, she didn’t want a dick pic—but she wouldn’t mind seeing his dick again up close and personal.

  Which was precisely why she couldn’t. Ivy frowned. Dammit, one night of bliss was going to cost her heavily when she couldn’t stop thinking about Dane for the next few weeks. Months.

  Years.

  No, not years. No way.

  Except, dammit, from the first moment she’d met Dane, she hadn’t known how to shake him from her system. She hadn’t wanted to in the early days, and then when she had, it just wasn’t happening. She’d eventually gotten to the point where whole days would pass and she wouldn’t think about him, but that had taken time.

  That had been busted all to hell the minute she walked into HOT HQ and saw him standing there, staring back at her like a forgotten wet dream.

  Something bounced on the horizon, and Ivy looked through the binoculars again. It was a speedboat, but not one she recognized. The boat hopped over the waves toward them. It was a big ocean, and they’d seen boat traffic on and off for the past couple of hours—but something about the purposeful way this one moved toward them felt different from the other boats they’d seen.

  Ace swore softly. Then he sat up to watch the approaching craft. “Is that one of ours?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Besides, wouldn’t they hail us on the radio?”

  “Maybe they needed to go silent.”

  Even as he said it, Ivy’s neck prickled in warning. The boat was growing bigger now, and it wasn’t changing course. It was probably nothing… but her blood iced over and her belly flipped. She reached into the beach bag where she’d packed her weapon and withdrew it.

  “I don’t like this,” she said. “Something’s wrong.”

  Ace glanced at his phone one last time. His face went white for a second before he swore and tossed it aside. “Agreed. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  He grabbed his weapon from the floor where he’d laid it and jumped up to start the boat.

  “Pull the anchor,” he told her, and Ivy rocketed into gear.

  The windlass had a hand crank, and she began to turn it as quickly as she could manage. Maybe they were overreacting, but it was easier to dial back their response after they’d put distance between themselves and the approaching boat than to ramp it up too late.

  Ivy’s muscles screamed as she turned the crank and the anchor came slowly up from the bottom. At least it wasn’t deep here, so the anchor wasn’t out too far, but it still took time.

  When the anchor was in and the engine purred, Ace rolled the stick back and the boat slid forward.

  “We’ll take it nice and slow,” he said. “Make it look like we’re out for a casual sail.”

  Ivy picked up the radio and called in. “Shark Three on the move. Unwanted guests headed our way.”

  The radio crackled and Dane’s voice snapped back at her. “Friendlies?”

  “Not sure. They’re coming fast and not deviating.”

&
nbsp; The speedboat shot through the water, heading straight for them now. It could be joyriders, sure. Kids out for a good time. But every instinct she had told her it wasn’t. The approach was too purposeful, too swift.

  She scanned the boat again with the binoculars. Three men stood in the bow, bouncing with the waves. They wore sunglasses, and their hair whipped in the wind. One of them drove. The other pointed toward them.

  And the third held a rifle, which he brought to his shoulder in one smooth move.

  “Go,” she screamed.

  Ace gunned their boat and she fell to her knees. Ivy never heard a sound—but a moment later Ace slumped over the console and slid sideways in slow motion, a jagged red stain following him down to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‡

  Shark Two rocketed toward Ivy and Ace’s position. Dane scanned the horizon with binoculars, looking for something—anything.

  “We’ll get there,” Chase called over the rush of wind.

  Dane merely nodded. When they spotted the cabin cruiser, Knight Rider gave the fishing boat more gas and they leapt forward in the water. He throttled back in order to glide into the cruiser’s space without ramming into her or sending her rocking too hard. There was no one at the helm, and Dane toed a hold on the side of the fishing boat, rope in hand, waiting until the moment he could leap onto the other craft.

  When they were close enough, he jumped. There was no sign of Ivy up top, but Ace lay on the floor in a pool of blood and Dane rushed to him. The man’s eyes fluttered open as Dane pressed his fingers against the belly wound to stop the blood flow.

  Garrett “Iceman” Spencer was beside him in two seconds, ripping into a med kit and taking out field dressings and strong painkillers.

  “No one below,” he said as he started to tend to Ace. He cleaned the wound as best as he could, dropped a clotting agent on it, and packed it with gauze while Dane shot morphine into Ace’s veins.

  Dane could hear Chase calling in and informing mission control what they’d found. Ace, but no Ivy. Goddamn, where was she?