The Honest Warrior: Navy SEALs Romances 2.0

by Banner, Daniel

  Baron checked his phone. No updates. He directed the driver to the Tijuana Cultural Center, keeping his eyes peeled to the tourists as they drove. When they arrived he ran inside, hustling through each and every room, ignoring the exhibits and keeping his eyes only on the tourists. No sign of her inside, so he ran through the gardens. Even if she was there, he could have missed her as she went from room to room.

  The Cultural Center was a long shot to begin with; he didn’t think she had anything to prove there, but he was running out of options.

  Next he checked out two markets that Maddox had suggested. And struck out.

  Back in the car, Baron made sure the driver was still willing to take him around, and the man said he had all night. Just hearing the words amplified the pain in his heart.

  It was already 7:30. Three hours since she had disappeared. It would be dark soon and that would take everything to a whole new level.

  With every minute that passed, he worried more. He checked with Logan, who told him that the phone was still un-pingable and the Escalade hadn’t moved. Next on the list of Maddox-recommended tourist places was either a big casino or some hiking trails.

  The casino felt wrong for Nessa, and the trails were just impractical places to search. He couldn’t cover miles and miles of trail with the sun going down. Not by himself. The info from Maddox and Jace hadn’t helped much. Baron blamed himself again, thinking he’d done a poor job of painting the picture of Nessa’s personality if his professional buddies couldn’t give him anything better than that.

  He needed help, and he needed it quick. He pulled up his phone, ready to dial and call in the cavalry when Jace’s face popped up.

  “What do you have?” asked Baron, ready to put all his eggs in whatever basket Jace’s probability method told him to.

  “Forty-seven percent,” said Jace.

  “Forty-seven? That’s it?”

  “Sucks, huh?” agreed Jace.

  “It’s getting dark. I’ll go where you tell me to, but I need reinforcements. Send me as many of Sutton’s black suits as you can. Tell them to dress like tourists.”

  “No way,” said Jace.

  “Hey, forty-seven percent is not enough to rely on. I need eyes on the street, and I need people asking questions. I’m this close to driving to the embassy and demanding help.”

  “Dude,” said Jace. “The embassy is in Mexico City. You going to drive thirty hours and pound on the door?”

  Baron put his face in his free hand. Why was Jace being difficult? Baron wasn’t asking much.

  “Fine,” Baron told him, not bothering to hide the frustration. “I’ll call Sutton and have him send the black suits. Maybe he even cares enough about Nessa, and me, to send a couple of SEALs.”

  “I’m already on it,” said Jace with a laugh. “Creed just went to talk to Sutton. We’re bailing on this assignment to come help.”

  “Yes!” said Baron. The weight of the mission suddenly felt lighter. “ETA?”

  “We’re ninety minutes out,” said Jace. “But we’ll get a driver so we can keep working en route. I’ll try to get the rest of the team coming too.”

  “Good. Give me the 47-percenter. I’ll go check that out while you’re on your way.”

  “Okay, so the note said, I’m going to prove myself, so I decided to use my brain—”

  “Hold that thought,” said Baron. It was as if a door had been opened in front of him and he could see clearly what he hadn’t seen before.

  Nessa was going to prove herself. This whole time she had been telling him she couldn’t believe how well he knew her. Since she left the hotel, he had been trying to use his brain to figure out where she’d gone, but that wasn’t how he’d known her so well. He had just been following his heart. There was no way his brain could figure out Nessa, or any woman for that matter. His heart was another story.

  “I know where to go,” said Baron.

  “What? I haven’t given you my idea.”

  “We’ve been throwing our brains at this problem and we got nothing.” Baron tapped the Uber driver and pointed up Avenida Revolución. “I’m following my … gut? Heart? I don’t know which, but I think I’ll find her.”

  Why had he been so stupid to miss it for so long?

  “What is it?” asked Jace.

  “Stay on that assignment. Tell Creed to hold off on talking to Sutton. If I’m wrong I’ll let you know and you can bring the cavalry down here.”

  “Dude. Don’t leave me in the dark.”

  “I got this,” said Baron, feeling a stab of pleasure at getting Jace back for refusing to send black suits and not telling him why at first. “Time to adapt and overcome.”

  Baron hung up and watched Avenida Revolución roll by. He barely paid any attention to the tourists. Nessa wasn’t there. And even though he couldn’t believe where she’d gone, if he knew Nessa, he knew where to find her. With darkness approaching, it was a lot to risk on a hunch.

  How do you know me so well? Her words came back to him.

  He just hoped she was unharmed when he found her.

  13

  Nessa stood on the sidewalk and stared at the building across the street. Bright neon lights lit it up, and people of many nationalities poured inside. She had asked around, mostly to tourists who appeared to speak English, and the majority of them let her know this was what she was looking for.

  Las Pulgas. She didn’t even know what that translated to, but if she was going to prove herself, this was the biggest and best place to do it.

  Tonight, Nessa Dimmick was going out on the dance floor, and it would be the biggest dance floor in Tijuana. To make matters worse, she couldn’t even pull up a YouTube tutorial on how to dance before facing her fear.

  The night when she and Baron hand-danced had been the closest she’d been to a dance floor since high school. Even at high school dances she would dance a couple of awkward slow dances with her date, but always made up an excuse when the beat picked up. The lack of control and unscriptedness of fast dancing had always been one of her biggest phobias—definitely her most irrational phobia.

  A cool breeze blew against Nessa as she stared at the building. The weather was practically perfect, but sweat was still running down her back under the loose fitting shirt. It was now or never, because the longer she looked at the building and the crowds, the more her nerves made her knees shake. If they shook much longer she wouldn’t even need to actively dance in there, just go in and let her knees do all the work.

  She told herself, “Enough stalling, Dr. Dimmick. Get in there and show ‘em what you got.” Blowing out a quick breath, she crossed the street and got in line for the door. A lot of the people around her looked like college-age kids from California. That was good, because Nessa would need proof that she’d been here, and it shouldn’t be too hard to get someone to take a video of her and text it to her.

  It blew her mind that she was: A, going in a dance club. B, actually going to dance. And C, hoping someone would document it. At least she had Baron to thank for that. He might not be someone she could trust, and they might never have a lasting relationship, but in the short time she’d known him, he’d helped her break out of control-freak mode. Overall, that seemed like a great thing. In the short term, she just wanted to dance then get back to the States as quickly as possible.

  Breathe, Nessa. Just breathe.

  The line was getting shorter and shorter. Only a few people ahead of her now. Sweeping her forward. The momentum was perfect, exactly what she needed to keep her from chickening out. If it stopped she thought she might just fall to the concrete and start bawling her eyes out.

  The couple in front of Nessa handed some money to the bouncer.

  Oh no! A cover charge! Nessa had no money, no card, no friends. Just a dead phone and now, a failed plan.

  Who was she kidding? Proving herself in a foreign country with absolutely no resources had been a stupid idea from the start. She doubted if she could even make it to the border,
much less across it. All she wanted was a small, comfortable office with her computers and data that she could order and control.

  The bouncer was asking for money. Nessa could feel pressure from the people behind her in line. She couldn’t see any of it though, because tears had filled her eyes and were completely blurring them.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” The voice was calm. Strong. Familiar. A hand rested comfortably on the small of her back.

  Baron! Even though she couldn’t see him, she knew he had found her. Somehow in this huge tourist city he was exactly where—exactly when—she needed him.

  As Nessa wiped her eyes, she could make out Baron handing a bill to the bouncer.

  Together they walked into the club as Nessa wiped tears away.

  “Nessa, I—”

  She threw her arms around him and squeezed him so tight he couldn’t talk. All of her anger was gone, for now. He hugged her back and all the security she craved surrounded her.

  The music pounded and people passed. Nessa and Baron held each other. There was plenty of time in the future to figure out if she could ever trust him again. For now she just wanted to hold him, and have him hold her back. He was so muscular and strong and firm. Even the manly smell of him made her feel like the world was in order and couldn’t affect her.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” said Baron. “I have to show you something.”

  “Don’t let me go?” she pleaded.

  “I can’t wait a second longer,” he said, keeping one arm around her while pulling out his phone with his free hand. As he typed he said, “First a quick text to call off the cavalry.” She saw him push send, tap the screen a few more times, and then he turned the phone toward her. “Now look at this.”

  The image on the screen was the little black device he’d planted on her. Why in the world was he bringing that up? He knew that she knew he’d done it.

  “It’s a security tag,” explained Baron. “To prevent shoplifting. On clothes.”

  Nessa looked closer. It was definitely the same thing she’d found on her shorts a few hours earlier. Underneath the image the text read, Small Security Tag. Prevent shoplifting by attaching this magnetic button in an inconspicuous area …

  “It’s not a tracking device?” muttered Nessa. “You didn’t put it on me?”

  “No,” said Baron. “It came from one of the shops.”

  She looked from the screen to Baron’s face then back to the screen.

  A shoplifting tag. All of this over a stupid misunderstanding. Baron hadn’t gone behind her back; he’d had her back all along. Even after she had run off and done her best to hide, he had found her and been there for her. He wasn’t treating her like a child and he hadn’t gone back on his promise!

  Nessa threw her arms around him again. He really was the perfect guy.

  “I was so scared for you, Nessa”

  “Just kiss me,” she told him. Before she could tell him twice, their lips met. She had thought she was secure and happy before. The kiss skyrocketed her to a whole new level. His lips moved slowly in sync with hers, enveloping her lips, massaging them. She could sense his worry fading in the kiss, how he hungrily clung to her back and how his lips demanded that she respond to him, that she let him protect her. That he was here for her.

  Who knew a kiss could say so much?

  When the kiss ended, Nessa knew she had a goofy grin on her face, and she didn’t care. “I’m so sorry I overreacted.”

  “I’m just glad you’re safe.” Baron rested his forehead against hers, giving her a close up of his dark eyes.

  “I should have trusted you,” she said, trying to figure why she had ever doubted.

  “I should never have put a tracker on your Escalade without telling you and I will never do anything like that again.”

  “I trust you,” she said, surprising herself. “I don’t trust anyone, but I trust you.”

  “So you trust me to get you out of here?”

  “Yes …” said Nessa, drawing out her answer. She eyed the humongous dance floor. There had to be a couple hundred people out there, lights flashing and music pumping. She wondered if she still had it in herself to get out there.

  Baron followed her eyes. Nessa saw his eyes and mouth go wide in response.

  “You don’t have to do it,” he said. “You have nothing to prove.”

  “I know I don’t have to.” She swallowed and felt some of the fear diminish. And some of the pressure as well. He always had that effect on her. Looking into his eyes, she said, “I’m so glad you came for me. I can’t even tell you how glad. But I need to do this. I actually do need to prove something. Will you teach me to dance?”

  “Sorry,” said Baron. “It sounded like you just asked me to take you out on the dance floor.”

  Nessa grinned. “Don’t make me ask again. I might lose my nerve.”

  Even as she finished saying it, Baron took her by the hand and led her toward the dance floor. He would probably find a corner where they had some space and could dance without too much attention. That’s what she figured he would do, but what Nessa wanted was to go the very center and get the full experience. As they reached the edge of the open dance floor, Baron just kept going straight in, swerving around dancers, pulling Nessa by the hand until they were directly under the giant silvery disco ball.

  Once again, he knew exactly what she needed.

  He turned toward her, took her by both shoulders and said, “I don’t know what about this scares you, but I promise I will be by your side. Any song you want to sit out, we sit out, no questions asked.”

  “How do you know me so well?” Nessa asked, clinging to his hands for safety.

  “We must have been built for each other,” he said. “Like two pieces of a puzzle.”

  That melted Nessa’s already tenderized heart. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and never let go, but she knew part of that was her craving a safety line. If she locked him up, she wouldn’t have to dance. Swallowing down her fear, she said, “Okay, how do we do this?”

  “I think you’ll pick it up quick,” he told her, shouting over the music. “I can’t conceive of you not being able to dance. Start by stepping to one side then to the other side.”

  Baron demonstrated and Nessa mirrored him. The movement was blocky and as un-rhythmic as anything Nessa could think of. She yelled, “I feel like a computer program written by a second grader.”

  “That’s good, right? Start basic and add features. The next step is to try to leave your torso in the center and step side to side with your feet.”

  Again he demonstrated and Nessa tried to do the same. And it felt like it was working! “I’m doing it! At least I feel like I am.”

  In the colors of the light show, Baron’s face lit up. “You are doing it! You’re a natural!”

  Nessa became very aware of her arms. What was she supposed to do with her arms? The entire process threw out an error message. She was frozen, the whole world moving around the fixed axis on which she stood.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Baron.

  “My arms,” she said. “What do I do with my arms?”

  “Swing them. Like this.”

  Nessa tried it, and it felt okay. At least she was moving again.

  “You’re doing awesome,” said Baron.

  “Is it really dancing if I just do the same step over and over?”

  “Of course it is!” said Baron. “Dancers choreograph moves all the time. You ready for something new?”

  That sounded scary. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “Move your head like it’s stepping back and forth too.” He started dipping his head to the side before he took each step as if it was leading him. That made sense to her, the order of it. Putting it together in pieces like he was doing made it very similar to computer programming.

  She tried the head thing.

  “Look at you! I knew I’d make a dancer out of you.” He was smiling that gorgeous smirk of his.

  Ne
ssa laughed. “What? I thought you said I was a natural.”

  “That was before I knew how amazing you looked dancing,” shouted Baron. “Now I want to take credit.”

  “You deserve it,” said Nessa. “Now what else can I do?”

  “Plug in anything else you want,” he said. “A spin, a clap, two steps to one side instead of one, put your hands above your head. Let the music speak to your soul, then let your soul speak to your body.” He did a number of moves in a row, then he planted his feet and just moved his knees, hips, shoulders and arms in a slow repetitive fashion.

  That was a little too much for Nessa, but she did try a spin and was shocked when it worked. At least it felt like it worked, and from what she knew, as long as the music was speaking then she was doing fine.

  Nessa never thought she’d be on a dance floor, and especially never thought she’d enjoy it, but doing this simple side to side across from the man of her dreams was enjoyable in a manner much deeper than merely crossing something off her bucket list. No one else but him could ever have made her love this.

  For a while, they just danced. A few times Nessa closed her eyes and just danced like no one else was watching. Without Baron there, watching her back and providing his safe presence, she couldn’t have done it.

  As one song changed to another, the DJ said a few sentences. It was just the break Nessa needed. She came forward to Baron just as he was reaching out for her. Her hands locked around the back of his neck. His arms came around her waist and pulled her close, body to body. He was so muscular. She could feel individual muscles in his arms, and thought she could even detect the ridges of his six pack. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He was thick and solid and she still couldn’t believe she had her hands wrapped around him.

  “Can we just stay like this for a minute?” she asked, right next to his ear so he’d hear her. “Is that allowed?”

  “Even if it wasn’t,” he said, “I’d still do it. I love the feel of you, Nessa. I keep expecting you to tell me the computer nerd is just a cover and you’re really an international spy.”