by Zoe Dawson
Then there was Blue. He was never far from his thoughts as well. He still couldn’t seem to let go of the guilt that dogged him. Still not sure what decision he could have made after the RPG blast. The satisfaction of foiling a devastating plot that would have left most of the combined NATO, Green Berets and SEAL teams dead part of the victory, but losing Blue had been the price. The needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few. He loved Blue like a brother, and if he’d been harmed or killed in action, those rebels would get no mercy from SEAL Team Alpha.
Pushing the dark thoughts from his mind, he turned his attention on Alyssa and all the little puzzle pieces he had yet to find to complete his picture of her. She had the tenacity of a pit bull and the grace of a gazelle. She wore baggy, neutral clothes, her hair always ruthlessly contained, but even with the way she downplayed her beauty, she looked so feminine and graceful. He shook his head, a wry smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He wanted to let down all that hair, see it soft around her face like at the ball, those forbidden days in that hotel room in San Antonio.
She so wasn’t his type. Not at all. He went for the bad girls, curvy women with big breasts and uncomplicated dispositions, women who wanted nothing more from him than a good tussle between the sheets. He didn’t know what Alyssa St. James would cost him. She drew on him like a magnet. Instinct told him his curiosity would be dangerous, but the warning wasn’t strong enough to overpower the attraction. Besides, he told himself smugly, he couldn’t get in any deeper than he wanted to.
He went back to his locker, the cut on his hand throbbing. The rest of his body throbbing, his dick hard. In the past he wouldn’t have waited. To hell with that shit. He would have found a way to get what he wanted if the woman was willing. But that was before he met Alyssa, before he found that his way or the highway was not any way at all to act.
He respected her and her position.
And she made him rethink everything he’d ever known about risk, about duty, and about the fairer sex.
He’d get some shooting in or maybe PT. Physical exercise sounded like a good idea to him. Maybe he could find some of the guys at the gym. He changed into his workout clothes, not sure he was focused enough for the range today.
As Tank exited the lockers, LT called out, “Tank. Wait up.”
Tank paused and let him catch up. “What’s up?”
“I checked in with the powers that be about your fraternization situation. They told me that there was no violation because she’s a reservist and a different branch of the service.”
Tank took in the information. “I can see her?”
“Yes.”
“I can see her.”
Ruckus laughed softly. “Sure sounds like a Dana situation.”
Alyssa’s hands were still shaking, her body in an uproar that she’d let him go when she wanted nothing more than to take him home and find out what she’d been missing with Stephen. Deciding that it was too important to wait around for information, Alyssa called her commanding officer’s assistant and got an appointment.
Soon she was standing in front of Colonel Johnson’s desk. “At ease and have a seat.” She set her hat on the corner of his desk and sat down. “What did you need to see me about?”
“It’s personal and professional.”
His head came up at the sound of her voice. “Don’t tell me you’re not going to take the job in San Antonio. I’m not going to accept it.”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s not about the job. I still need more time.”
“Elaborate then.”
“Remember the request I mentioned regarding the Navy SEAL who asked for my assistance with one of the working dogs, Echo?”
He nodded. “Yes, he was severely wounded recently, and it doesn’t look good for him returning to service.”
“I’ve deemed him disabled. The muscle in his shoulder was too damaged to fully repair. He’s going to limp for the rest of his life.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. This Navy SEAL…”
“Chief Petty Officer Thorn Hunt.”
“Hunt must be having a tough go.”
“He is, but that isn’t what I wanted to talk about.” She shifted and looked away her stomach tied up in knots. “He and I are…attracted to each other and wish to pursue a romantic relationship.”
He steepled his fingers, frowning. “I see. Well, the policy is pretty clear for the Army, but there are still loopholes even thing. But for the reserves I can’t really dictate to you how you spend your free time when you’re not on duty. But I do have to ask you these questions because it’s important for the smooth running of the command and my duty to ensure that it continues to run smoothly.”
“All right.”
“Article 134 states in general it might not be an offense. The surrounding circumstances dictate here. He’s in the Navy and you’re in the Army. So your relationship doesn’t compromise the integrity of supervisory authority or chain of command.”
“No, sir.”
“Would you say that there is no actual or perceived partiality of unfairness, improper use of rank for personal gain, exploitative or coercive activity, adverse impact on discipline, authority, morale, or the ability of command to accomplish the mission?”
“No, sir. None of those conditions apply in this circumstance.”
“Then you’re free to engage in a personal relationship with Petty Officer Hunt. But, if you decide to go active duty, that might change. We could definitely talk about it more, but have you thought about that?”
“Yes, I have.”
“This is an amazing opportunity. Think about it carefully and what it would mean to your relationship if you decide to take the position at Lackland.”
“I understand, and I haven’t totally ruled out Lackland…it’s just that I like him very much.”
He nodded. “You have to do what is best for you, Alyssa, but your country does need you in this position, our K9 warriors need you.”
She gave him a look, knowing that he was campaigning for her to accept. “That was a nice touch. I promise I’ll consider everything.”
He nodded, his expression hopeful. “I’m sure you will. I appreciate you bringing this to me to make sure there is no impropriety, but that doesn’t surprise me in your case, Lieutenant Colonel. Your exemplary record reflects your dedication to duty.”
She blew out a breath. “Thank you, sir.”
“You were saved by Article 134, but that in no way diminishes your service, Dr. St. James, nor gives you the latitude to act inappropriately in public while in uniform.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“I’ll make a note of my approval in your record and wish you good luck in your budding relationship. If there’s nothing else…”
“No, sir. We’re done.” She rose and picked up her hat and exited his office. She had to stop and lean against her car in the parking lot. She felt a rush of adrenaline and a giddiness she hadn’t felt for a long time. Maybe she hadn’t been too open to Stephen’s needs, maybe she hadn’t comprised enough. This situation with Tank opened her eyes, made her look at herself in a different light. She had to take this chance with him or she feared she might die inside.
Closing her eyes against the longing to take this thing with Tank into the deep end of the pool contrasted sharply with her experience with her ex-husband. She took a breath. That was between them. Here, now, this was between her and Tank. She looked at her watch and noted her meeting with Tank was coming up fast. She couldn’t let her baggage interfere with the potential for something amazing, solid and passionate. There was no doubt in her mind that’s what this would be.
But she was still scared to death.
When he entered the gym, Hollywood, Scarecrow and Wicked were working the weights. When the team’s safety and security depended on how fast they could move with all the gear they might need to do a job better than anybody else in the world, the words “being in shape” took on a whole new meaning.
“Hey, slacker,” Hollywood said as he came over to them.
Tank gave him a narrow-eyed look. “If anyone’s slacking, man, it’d be you.” He watched as Hollywood’s head turned when he heard the sound of female voices as a group of beautiful women entered the gym. Part of the CIA contingent on base.
Scarecrow smiled. “He’s like a homing beacon.”
Tank laughed, but when he looked at Wicked, he was watching the group with a taut, predatory stare. Wicked didn’t talk much. He was more the strong, silent type. But his body language was giving off a very intense vibe. He’d seen badass dangerous men give Wicked a wide berth.
There were four women: two blondes, a brunette, and a drop-dead gorgeous fiery redhead. Wicked was staring at her. Tank got that—she was lean and sleek, clear she was an operator, had the kind of moves that served the shadowy players who populated the spy world. He’d never seen her before on base. But she was making Wicked twitchy. She was tall and looked badass, but what she had was power. It pulsed through her in a steady, unending beat.
It was there in every line of her beautiful body…survival—they’d all been trained for it, trained to do whatever it took to survive. But this beauty took it up a notch.
She was so sleek in her clinging workout clothes, all black like a ninja siren, her body sculpted by lengths of hard muscle with a strength of heart that shone out of a pair of whiskey amber eyes.
He glanced at Wicked again and his mouth hardened. She never even glanced his way, but Tank was sure she was also very aware of him. There was history there for sure.
“He sure has the radar for beautiful women,” Scarecrow continued, breaking into both Tank’s and Wicked’s regard of the redhead.
Wicked turned back to the bar and picked up a couple more plates and slammed them home. Hollywood turned and said, “Jesus, Wicked, you must think I am the man of steel.”
“You need to take that testosterone and put it to good use. Nothing can come of approaching any one of those women. You’d be much better off steering clear of anything to do with the spooks.”
It was the most words Wicked had strung together ever. The guys gave each other looks and Hollywood grinned. “I can handle spies, Wicked. I can handle any damn woman.”
“Sure you can,” Scarecrow said, “until one of them blindsides you.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Right, ask Ruckus how well that went for him.” Hollywood lay down on the bench after giving Scarecrow a sour look. “Kid maybe?” Hollywood grabbed the bar and Wicked helped him steady it before he started to do his reps. Scarecrow crouched down. “Cowboy?”
With a giant heave, Hollywood’s muscles bulging, he replaced the bar. Sitting up, he gave Scarecrow another scowl. “It won’t be me. Ever.” Then he grinned that cocky grin. “I conquer. I don’t get conquered.”
Wicked looked back at the redhead and said under his breath, “Don’t say never; those words will get force-fed back to you and you could choke on them.”
Scarecrow glanced at Tank and sighed. “Even Tank is succumbing, and I don’t think he’s happy about it.”
“Leave me out of this,” he growled, taking his turn with the bar. His realization about Alyssa was a little too new, too raw right now to have it bantered about within his team’s gritty and raucous minds. It wasn’t that he was averse to commitment. He’d committed plenty. It was that Alyssa was a future he didn’t know was there and one that he hadn’t realized until now he wanted.
“Well, it’s Tank’s business,” Hollywood said. “But putting your career on the line for a piece of ass is reckless.”
Before Tank could even realize what he was doing, he got into Hollywood’s face. “Shut the fuck up about the Doc. She’s not a piece of ass.”
Hollywood’s eyes narrowed, and he pushed back. “She’s a fine piece of ass, but you’re out of your mind if you mess with an officer.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tank said deep and low.
“No, I don’t get it.”
“I like her, Hollywood. I know that’s not something you’re interested in, but sometimes things change.”
“So, maybe you should put a sock in it,” Scarecrow drawled.
“Look, man, I’m sorry. I can be such an asshole, but I got your back.”
The tension defusing, Tank backed up off his teammate. He was sure there would never be a time where he was willing to go to war with one of the brotherhood over a woman, but Wicked had been right. Never was a word that had to be eaten, and damn if it didn’t stick in the craw.
He walked out with Wicked and indicated the sultry redhead with his chin. “What’s up with the her?”
Wicked grunted. “Officer Kat Harrington. I knew her a lifetime ago before I was on this team.”
He hadn’t really expected a response. When Wicked didn’t want to talk, he didn’t answer and that was that.
“What the hell did you do before you came to us?”
He looked at Tank, then looked away. “It’s not common knowledge, but I was with Team Six.”
Team Six was the common name for the United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group commonly known as DEVGRU. “You pulling my boot?” Usually one of its elite operators went out two ways after snagging one of the coveted spots on that team—retirement or a body bag.
They entered the locker area. “No, I was with DEVGRU. We deployed with Delta. Let’s just say Kat and I have bad blood between us.”
“Mission gone wrong?”
“Something like that. She hates my guts.” Wicked changed and slung a bag over his shoulder. “A little advice. If you find yourself a woman you can love who wants to support you, give you a couple of kids, you should grab that with both hands, man. It’s the golden ring.”
Wicked clapped him on the shoulder then headed for the exit. Tank watched him go. Who would have thought it? Wicked had layers and he wanted a family. What the hell? Still waters did run deep, and he’d learned more about the guy in this short exchange than he’d learned from him the whole time he’d been on their team. He wondered what kind of beef Kat Harrington had with the deadly gunslinger. Looked like she could hold her own with him. Maybe one day she would have to.
At the agreed upon time, Tank entered the coffee shop and looked around, but Alyssa wasn’t there. He waited for fifteen minutes, then walked up to the counter. “Has Dr. St. James been here?”
The clerk smiled at him. “She was about thirty minutes ago, then she must have left.”
“Thanks,” Tank said, wondering if Alyssa was okay. Maybe she’d gotten cold feet.
He walked across the street and went inside the clinic, but she wasn’t there either.
Now he was beginning to worry.
He went to her place because she wasn’t answering her cell phone and he was really starting to stress over her whereabouts.
He knocked on her door, resisting the urge to kick it in, and to his utter relief, she answered it.
“What the hell, Alyssa? You gave me a heart attack. Why weren’t you at the coffee shop like we agreed? Have you changed your damn mind?”
She backed up as he advanced, slamming the door behind him. His worry made him cranky, and he realized right here, right now that he was actually in much too deep, that if LT had told him he couldn’t have her, he would have broken the damn law, risked his career, risked anything to have her. This beautiful, skilled, caring woman that took his thoughts and rules and turned them on their head. He hadn’t understood what support really was until she had been there for him during his worry over Echo. He regretted that he hadn’t realized that his protective need to shelter his brothers had led him to distancing himself from the people he loved. In his desperation to keep from losing them, he had lost what it was to really be a family and lean on them for support; giving that support was all there really was.
“No,” she whispered. He noticed that she had on a silky robe and was barefoot. His heart started to pound har
der. “I have two reasons I wasn’t there.”
He set his hands on his hips, trying not to jump to conclusions or jump her for that matter.
“They are?” he prompted when she didn’t continue, just stared at him as if she hadn’t seen him in a year.
“The first one is because I wanted to see if you’d come after me. To see if you really wanted it as much as I thought you did.”
“I’d follow you to the ends of the fucking earth,” he rasped. He stepped closer. “And the other reason?”
“I don’t want to waste another minute talking about this. My commander gave us the green light. God, help me, I don’t care if you haven’t heard yet.”
Before he could respond, she pressed him back against the wall with a hot, open-mouthed kiss that knocked the wind right out of him. All he could do was groan, caught up in the sweetest, sexiest moment of his life.
10
Alyssa was sick of playing it safe. Sick of acting like she didn’t have needs and desires. Sick of making believe that she couldn’t experience something wholly wonderful with Tank. The soft growl he made deep in his chest gave her great satisfaction and he flipped her around, so their positions were reversed. Stephen hadn’t responded to her like this, and it was like she was a virgin all over again. He buried his fingers in her hair and pressed her up against the wall with his hard, undeniably aroused body. With a low growl, broadcasting both his frustration and urgent need, he slanted his mouth across hers and sank his tongue deep, kissing her just as recklessly as she had kissed him only moments before. She loved his big body, the rough way he looked. His mouth promised sin and unrestrained sensual pleasure, and she matched him stroke for stroke, chasing his tongue with her own, letting him know that she was with him all the way.
She was touched by the way he’d been stressed out when he couldn’t find her. It was a dick move on her part, but she wanted to know that she wasn’t just convenient, just a conquest. She wanted to know that he wanted to be with her, not just a warm body.
