Hot SEALs: SEALed For Life (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Donna McDonald

  In retrospect, traveling from Virginia Beach to Washington DC on a walking cast and crutches was a bad idea. She blamed the foolish idea on the Marines and all those years of doing what was needed, regardless of difficulty. You didn’t make it to her level of command wimping out every time something got hard.

  Her frustration had gotten the better of her yesterday as she’d watched her squad load up and leave without her for only the second time in twenty-one years. Her spontaneous trip to the wall was born from the fucked-up rationalizing she’d done about it not being nearly as hard as what her team was doing today.

  Gritting her teeth, she continued to walk—step after painful step. Damn suck-ass generator. If she’d only been a fraction faster getting out of its way. The heavy piece of equipment had strained the ropes holding it and the chopper had veered sharply with no choice. She’d dove out of the way of the swinging load, but not fast enough. Over the weeks of her recovery since she’d fallen, she’d lost count of all the comments about how she was slowing down in her old age.

  Her attention snapped back to reality with the force of a stinging rubber band when the hairs on her body all raised in alarm. She noticed the five kids she’d just tangled with were now facing off with some guy—one of the two people she’d seen. She watched him tuck his kid behind him as he talked to their smart-mouth leader.

  “Qué chingados!!!” Swearing in her mother’s language, Melina looked around for potential help.

  There was a cop off in the distance, but he was hell and far away from them… and walking steadily in the opposite direction of their location. No amount of yelling would gain his attention fast enough to thwart the problem ahead. That left just her and the guy to deal with the little irreverent shits.

  Great. Just what she needed. More to deal with this morning. Melina swore steadily under her breath as she quietly covered the rest of the distance.

  Chapter 3

  “Uh… excuse me… sir.”

  Gower sighed when he heard the snarky attention-getting line. There were no others nearby, so he knew the kid was addressing him. He turned slowly to face the speaker and steered his too-curious eight year old behind him at the same time.

  “Stay behind me, Dillon,” he ordered, then he lifted his chin and stared hard at the talkative smart-mouth. “What can I do for you?”

  Amid a shower of snickers, the four kids not speaking pulled switchblades from their pockets and flicked them open down the sides of their legs. They held them tight against the loose fabric of their pants with their hand shielding the majority of the weapon from view. No one was nearby and onlookers wouldn’t notice much from a distance.

  “If you’d just pass along your wallet to us, we’ll happily be on our way,” the leader suggested with a soft but grave tone.

  “There’s nothing in my wallet but my military ID, driver’s license, and plastic I’m not ever going to let you use,” Gower said coldly, his tone just as grave but not as soft. He pulled a couple twenties from his front pocket and tossed them to the ground near the speaker’s feet. “Here. That’s all you’re going to get. I suggest you take it and run.”

  He watched the lead kid look down, snort, and shake his head.

  “No… I don’t think so. Toss me your cell. You know I can’t let you call the cops on us.”

  Sighing, Gower pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and tossed it underhanded to the kid who caught it only after almost dropping it. His friends snickered about him being clumsy but it didn’t phase the kid. He could have taken the leader out with a hard enough throw of the phone at the kid’s head, but he didn’t want to engage them with Dillon behind him. For one, his son had never seen him fight—or anyone fight—so far as he knew. And second, he for sure didn’t want Dillon to see him get cut if one of the punks got in a lucky swipe with one of those damn blades.

  Everyone’s attention moved to the back of the group when two of them hit the ground and started moaning. A woman on crutches stood over the two who were now rolling around in the grass. Gower heard that both had cut themselves with their own weapons as they fell because they were now moaning about the blood.

  “Whoops. My bad. Looks like I’m the one who tripped you guys this time. Now how about you give the man back his cell phone, pick up the money he gave you, and run like hell? Those blades you’re packing are illegal, you know. 911 sometimes takes a bit, but I’m guessing you won’t get far without having to ditch your hardware if you don’t start moving. Leave now and you might actually outrun them.”

  Gower stood there—in shock he supposed—as another blade carrier went after her to retaliate for his friends.

  “Really?” the woman said, glaring at him.

  She stood on her one good foot and used her crutches to defend herself. The guy screamed in pain when one hard rubber tip smashed violently against his temple. The second she flipped in her hand so she could use the arm piece to hook his leg and take him down. The kid’s blade flew at her and she hopped on her good foot trying to miss it.

  Gower couldn’t prevent a chuckle when she yelled “Shit” as it bounced off her thigh. If it had stuck in her leg, he’d have felt guilty as hell for laughing.

  “Hey Beckett—stop staring and get these punk-asses off me. If you don’t, I’m going to tell your team that you stood there while I fought them all on my bum leg. I’ll make damn sure you catch hell for the rest of your life.”

  “Who are you?” Gower demanded.

  “Gee… I like you too. Thanks a lot for remembering me,” Melina said, slapping her free hand on her now bleeding leg. “Damn it. These were my favorite pair of jeans.”

  Still clueless about who she was, Gower reached out and yanked the leader up closer and gently popped his chin to get his attention. His stolen cell phone fell to the ground as the kid yelled about the punch.

  Dillon scrambled around both of them to retrieve his phone from where it had fallen. At least his son didn’t seem too traumatized, Gower thought.

  Chuckling over his greater concern for Dillon’s mental health than any he felt in facing the punks, he lifted the now dizzy leader by the shirt until the kid’s feet cleared the ground. Then he threw him with as much force as he could into the remaining knife holder. They both went down in a pile of arms and legs.

  The remaining blade fell to the grass as both kids swore and scrambled to their feet. Both also ran without looking back at their struggling comrades.

  Gower’s satisfied gaze went to Dillon once more as his son yelled in triumph. He snorted when his son snatched the two twenties up from the ground.

  “Look Dad. We can still eat lunch!” Dillon declared.

  Gower laughed at the statement. His son showed no shock over witnessing a fight. Just concern for keeping the money. Dillon had gotten that from his mother. Maybe the kid would grow up to be an accountant or something.

  Then he turned to the woman again. She’d had to put pressure on her cast to stand. Looking at the remaining kids climbing to their feet, she lifted her remaining crutch in warning. Seeing their cowardly leader running in the distance, they swore and took off in a run as well.

  Putting the one solid crutch back under her arm, she hobbled over on a bum foot to pick up the other broken one. He heard her swearing softly under her breath as she examined it.

  “You’re bleeding all over your clothes.” Gower stated the obvious, because she seemed to be ignoring the fact her jeans were being saturated with blood around her wound.

  He watched her gaze lower from her broken crutch to her bleeding leg. Her shrug was followed by a sigh of resignation.

  “Yeah. Flesh wound,” she said. “What I’m more concerned with is getting out of here on one crutch.”

  Gower snorted. “No worries. Dillon and I will make sure you get back where you’re going. Seems the least we can do.”

  Now that he got a good look at her, Gower finally noticed her thick black hair which was cropped very short, almost like a man’s. It was framing a
very feminine face though, one with clear green eyes and unblemished olive skin.

  He concluded her face was very nice, but the body inside her well-fitting clothes was equally intriguing. She’d used some serious force to knock down those kids. The woman must have some highly trained muscles to swing those heavy wooden crutches… which he suspected were military grade. If she was in the service though, why hadn’t she gotten the lighter aluminum ones?

  “Still don’t recognize me, do you, Beckett?” At his blank look, Melinda snorted and shook her head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I didn’t know you at first either. Civilian clothes tend to change things.”

  “I’m working on it. You sound familiar. Am I supposed to recognize you?” Gower asked, walking closer.

  Melina lifted a shoulder before repositioning her crutch under her arm. “No… probably not. I’m not the kind of woman men tend to remember, especially SEALs.”

  Gower felt an eyebrow go up. How did she know he was a SEAL? “I’m not sure what I’m hearing in that comment. Did we ever… you know?” He glanced discreetly at his son.

  Her laughter rang out loudly around all three of them. It was genuine and from the gut. Gower noticed his son couldn’t look away from her anymore than he could.

  “No, Lieutenant Beckett. We did not do anything you forgot. As I recall, even after you turned thirty you still tended to date the college age daughters of your superiors.”

  “That information is uncomfortably true,” Gower admitted, fighting his grin. Those were the days he liked to remember, but there were none of them now. He hung his head for a moment. Damn the woman did seem to know him. Why the hell couldn’t he place her?

  Melina laughed at his chagrin. “Out of uniform, I’ve always been invisible to you SEALs… well except for one. And for the most part, I admit I liked it that way. Fellow jarheads don’t require their females to look like models like you guys tend to do. Ergo, I hung out mostly with Marines.”

  Melina’s attention drifted to the boy who was still openly staring at her. “Hi. My name is Melina. Pardon my swearing please. I always get a little stressed fighting bad guys.”

  Gower’s eyebrows lifted higher when his son rushed forward and held out his hand. He hadn’t been able to get Dillon to say hello to people he didn’t know, much less shake hands with them. He stared in fascination as she held his son’s hand respectfully and nodded at his introduction as Dillon gave his name.

  “It’s okay about the bad words. Dad says them sometimes too, but he’s trying to quit. I’m Dillon Beckett. Are you a superhero?”

  At Dillon’s excited last question, he heard her laugh again. Her laugh was nice… and friendly… appealing in ways he’d forgotten he could feel. But her attitude towards him was closed off and she radiated a tension she didn’t show his child. Strange woman. Interesting woman.

  “Oh, I’m way better than a superhero,” Melina exclaimed in answer. “I’m a Marine.”

  “Really? What’s a Marine?” Dillon asked.

  Melina felt the corners of her mouth lift in a smile. “It’s like a Navy SEAL, only better. We don’t need to hitch rides wherever we go. We fly helicopters and give the SEALs rides.”

  “Wow. Helicopters! I like helicopters. My dad’s a SEAL.”

  “Yes, I know. Your father and I used to work together. But he doesn’t remember me.”

  “Yet…” Gower corrected.

  Melina raised her gaze to Gower’s openly curious one. The man was very good-looking, better looking than Chris even… not that Chris was still her measuring stick. But you couldn’t help noticing Gower’s blonde hair and chocolate eyes. On top of the tight jaw, nice shoulders, and ass to die for… his two day old beard shouted his abundance of testosterone to any female within visual range.

  But his real power was in his gaze—his still very blank gaze in her case. Despite his lack of recognition, she had known who he was the moment she downed the first two of the punks. She respected what he’d done in resigning his commission to raise his son. That was why she’d already forgiven him for not recognizing her.

  In her uniform all she would ever have represented to Gower Beckett was a fellow soldier. They’d had no reason to speak directly and probably had never exchanged more than two words. Most of her knowledge of him had come from benign pillow talk about Chris’s fellow SEALs that she couldn’t remember completely anyhow.

  She looked back down and smiled at the boy deliberately. “Tell me something, Dillon. Should I tell your father who I am before he goes crazy trying to guess?” She chuckled softly when the boy laughed and nodded.

  “Yes. Please tell me,” Gower added, trying to be charming. There was a time when he didn’t have so much trouble getting his way with a female, though instinct and a mean crutch swing had already told him this one was definitely not typical.

  Melina listened to Dillon Beckett’s childish giggle and smiled. She looked at his and tilted her head to wait on the answer. Dillon pretended to think about it, but finally gave in to his amusement and laughed.

  “Tell him,” Dillon declared. “Dad will never guess.”

  Gower snorted. “Thanks son. Thanks a lot.”

  Melina grinned as her laughter joined the teasing males. Both of them were highly appealing.

  Chapter 4

  Melina gave an exaggerated sigh as she grinned at Gower. “I can’t believe you don’t recognize your guardian angel, Beckett. You should be especially glad I was here to save your pretty ass today.”

  As the puzzle pieces fell into place, Gower groaned and smacked his forehead. “Holy shit. Gunny Angel. I’m sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

  “Yeah. You sound like one too,” Melina teased, softening the accusation with a smile. “I’m going to tell myself it’s because your son was in danger. I’m sure it was not because you never noticed me any of the times I dropped your crazy SEAL ass out of one of my choppers.”

  Gower blinked as he saw Melina Angel through new eyes… and military ones. He’d only ever seen her in a camo uniform which had not revealed the curves he was seeing outlined today in her snug fitting jeans.

  And her hair—what there was of it—had always been totally hidden by a Marine head cover.

  Plus, he’d never really looked at any woman in uniform and saw anything he acknowledged as “available female”. Such thinking had been trained out of him long before he’d become a SEAL.

  So yes—you could definitely argue that Melina Angel had been nearly invisible to him.

  He would never be so oblivious again though. At the moment, he was considering how much of a shame it was that he hadn’t noticed the cute dimple by her mouth when she smirked. Or the way her eyes flashed just before she made one of her bossy, sarcastic pronouncements. Both lit him up inside and made him interested to find out what made her tick. He knew those traits were part of what made her willing to wade into a street fight to save someone.

  It was odd to find himself suddenly wishing he had noticed her before today. Of course, Chris would have knocked the shit out of him if he’d had the audacity to ask her out. Gunny Angel and Chris had been together when he’d gotten out last year, but he’d heard about the split.

  Rumor among his buddies was that Chris was trying his damndest to make up for whatever had happened. Rumor also was Gunny Angel wasn’t being receptive in the least. If true, that meant the woman was free, didn’t it? Or mostly free. No one came without some baggage. Shit—he’d have to talk to Chris. It was only right.

  Gower opened his mouth, but shut it when Dillon dashed to his backpack and then ran to her again. His son held out his hand with an offering of some of the candy the boy had wrangled out of him as a bribe to get dressed early this morning. Sharing came natural to Dillon, but it was his son’s words that choked him up.

  “This is for you because you saved my Dad.”

  Melina Angel’s wide smile matched her easy laugh as she plucked the fruit candy from his son’s palm and popped it into her mouth withou
t a blink. She moved it around until she could talk.

  “My pleasure, Dillon. But listen…. never tell anyone I work for food—okay? Uncle Sam found out a long time ago and has had me on a short leash for over twenty years now because of it.”

  “Who’s Uncle Sam?” Dillon asked.

  “Ask your dad to explain him to you one day. Basically, he’s our boss.”

  Gower studied his guardian angel’s calm face, mildly scrunched as she fought the pain she was feeling. There was no complaining though. No drama. Not even any swearing as she patiently talked to Dillon who was asking her a hundred questions.

  She was a very unique female.

  And he liked everything he was learning. He liked her instantly and viscerally—the kind of simple pull to someone he hadn’t felt in many years. But did he like her enough to ask about her dating situation? That was the real question.

  Gunny Angel was a Marine lifer. He didn’t know how a lifer’s mind worked. He’d certainly never had a long-term military career as a goal, even though he’d absolutely loved his job as a SEAL. Going into the military was mostly because he hadn’t found anything better as a civilian. But he’d always, always been looking for something to do with his life that used everything he had. The military had just temporarily assuaged that need.

  “Can I ask why you’re staring a hole through me, Beckett?”

  Gower snorted before he answered. “Maybe you’re right about your invisibility, Gunny. I never noticed you before, but I certainly took notice today. You swing a mean crutch—among other things.”

  He ran a hand self-consciously over his head. How in the hell could he be thinking about dating her? The woman was more than a little intimidating with that composure of hers. She’d obviously earned that rank of hers.

  He shook his head and decided to sit on his inclinations a while longer. Then he had another epiphany about her.

  “Shit. Your foot must be killing you. Damn, I’m sorry. Let’s get you off it.”