Risking It All

by Stephanie Tyler

  Between the darkness and the sounds of the ocean, and Cash supporting her, she’d felt comfortable enough to forget the fact that they had been outside. In public. Naked.

  He had, at some point, assured her that no one had seen them.

  But I can’t promise that no one heard us, he’d said, and then he’d grinned and done that thing with his tongue and she hadn’t cared.

  Now, huddled in bed alone, she cared very much. And when her phone rang, she winced for a second, pictured the hotel manager calling to tell her about the complaints they’d received. Until she realized that it was her cell phone and not the hotel phone.

  “Rina, it’s Jenny. Is this a bad time? I know it’s early.”

  “Not at all,” she said. She’d hadn’t been close to her mother’s younger sister until recently, and now she thought of her aunt more like a sister. Jenny had even told her to drop the aunt-and-uncle stuff because it made her feel old.

  Growing up, Jenny and Mac never came to Rina’s house for the holidays. Together, the couple had remained something of a cross between the black sheep and a mystery in her family. And then, Rina’s uncle had called her with an opportunity to do a recruitment video, which she shot a few months ago, so she’d grown close with her aunt in a very short period of time.

  It was something Rina’s mother wasn’t too happy about, claimed her aunt was going to be a bad influence on her. It was partially the reason Rina hadn’t told her mother about the possible Africa project. She knew her mother would blame Jenny for influencing her, and she wouldn’t have been all that wrong. She and Jenny had spent hours talking about her uncle and Jenny’s brother, thumbing through photo albums and old letters and when Jenny had told her that she reminded her of David, she’d never felt prouder.

  “I tried your home phone first and then I remembered you’d mentioned being away,” Jenny said, drawing Rina into the present.

  She sat up and groaned, then fell against the stacked pillows. “Yes, I’m living the glamorous life in Hawaii.”

  “I’m jealous, since we’re expecting snow here today. And hey, I won’t keep you, but Mac wanted me to let you know that the Navy big shots love what you did with the recruiting video. They think it’s a major coup to drum up business, half rock video, half Survivor.”

  “That’s what I was aiming for, so I’m glad they didn’t think it was too progressive.” She’d agreed to shoot the video to help his uncle, who was a high-ranking Navy officer—she and Stella were on the Little Creek base in Virginia for two days last month in order to get proper footage and the necessary clearances. It had been a good video, highlighted her and Stella’s skills, but wasn’t long enough to be included in their grant proposal. No, that film needed to be bigger.

  “He’d tell you himself, but he’s away,” her aunt continued. “He’s so proud of the work you’ve done.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, Jenny, with Mac away all the time,” she said, thinking she sounded an awful lot like her mother.

  “Practice,” her aunt replied. “It helps that he’s hot, too.” She and Rina both laughed at that. Rina had to agree that Mac was a good-looking guy. But Jenny’s marriage to Mac was a frequent source of tension in the family, even though Mac had tried his best in the beginning to win her mother over, it became painfully apparent that that wasn’t going to happen.

  Of course, Stella found the whole thing completely romantic, and even though Rina would never admit it out loud, she had to agree.

  Eloping in the middle of the night after a first date—well, Jenny told her that even she had to finally admit that what had happened between her and Mac technically wasn’t a date—but she and Mac were still solidly together after eleven years, Mac’s numerous travels with the SEALs and her two miscarriages.

  They were talking about adopting. Jenny planned to try until she was forty—two more years—and then she’d consider the alternatives. And Mac seemed more than willing to do whatever it took to make her happy.

  But Mac had more than one strike against him, at least in Rina’s mother’s eyes. Not only was his Navy SEAL job and lifestyle completely unconventional, he was also fifteen years older than Jenny. They’d also married right after Rina’s Uncle David had been killed, another strike, since her mom blamed the military for what had happened to David in Africa.

  Even though her Uncle was a retired Special Forces Soldier and now worked for JAG, he still did what was considered highly classified and confidential work for the government, which required his schedule to be top secret most of the time.

  “It was great having you here. You’re welcome back any time,” Jenny was saying, but Rina barely heard her. Her mind had already begun a steady turn, and her imagination took off.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to apply for the grant this year after all…. “I might take you up on that one. Soon,” Rina said, her pulse racing nearly as fast as it had been last night.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Could you have Mac call me when he gets back? I’ve got another video idea I think the Navy might like.”

  “Will do,” Jenny promised.

  Rina hung up and dialed Vic’s cell phone number immediately. “I’ve got a pitch for you,” she said, dispensing with the usual hello.

  “You’re supposed to be finishing up the job you’re on now. But I’m listening.”

  “Bigger, Badder, Faster—X-treme jobs,” she said, scribbling notes to herself on a napkin even as she spoke.

  “I like it. Tell me more.”

  “We could do things like roughnecks, race car drivers, stunt men. Navy SEALs,” she continued, encouraged by the way Vic sounded.

  “We’d need some kind of in,” he said.

  “I think I’ve got the in for the SEALs,” she said. “And I want behind the camera on this one.”

  Her mom was always saying how crazy her Uncle Mac was. So really, what could be more extreme, more exciting, than a day in the life of a Navy SEAL?

  5

  Two weeks later

  “HOW BAD IS IT?” Cash asked Hunt, his SEAL teammate. Cash leaned forward to see the damage for himself while he shot off a round of fire to keep the enemy at bay. His muscles tensed and gut tightened, the way they always did whenever the situation involved adrenaline and explosives.

  “Get out of here now before you’re trapped,” Hunt told him. The men had been inserted into Morocco an hour earlier, and Mission Tank Battle was already well underway.Cash shifted, and mentally calculated their options. “Can’t we get around the side wall?”

  “Not unless we want to die immediately. It’s too late and I’m too hurt to be helped, so go,” Hunt insisted.

  “I’m not leaving you behind,” Cash said. He’d sacrificed too much to let something like this happen, the last half hour was pure blood, sweat and tears. He’d been shot, as well. Using every available resource he had, he grabbed Hunt, swung him over his shoulder and started to run.

  “Watch behind you,” Rev, another teammate, urged and Cash swung to the left to avoid another grenade. And promptly dropped Hunt.

  “I thought you were trying to save me?” Hunt demanded as the TV screen turned white and Game Over emerged in large blue letters.

  “I can’t help it if you slipped,” Cash said, wondering why the hell anyone ever played these SOCOM3 games. Once you’d lived the real thing, the on-screen version paled in comparison.

  “You suck at this,” Hunt declared, and took the controls out of Cash’s hands. “Good thing your track record’s better where it counts.”

  From the room’s far corner, Justin snorted, where he lay on his back playing Texas Hold ’Em on his cell phone. Etienne, better known as Rev, had been trying to put some order to the paperwork blanketing the massive, scarred oak table where the SEALs held their meetings. But he’d given up at least an hour ago in favor of seeing just how far he could tip his chair back on two legs without falling over. He also offered commentary on the video game Cash and Hunt had been play
ing for an hour, since they’d all been benched with injuries, albeit minor ones, after last night’s training mission.

  A stimulating afternoon. Of course, compared to the excitement of the Gray Ops mission in Hawaii, the just sitting around part was that much more frustrating. He and Justin had completed their end of the mission, had gotten lauded for their part in helping to bring down a major drug running operation. It was hard to come down from something like that.

  Hunt’s phone rang. “What?” he asked, instead of hello, listened for a second and then stood. “Hollywood said the admiral’s on his way over here,” he told them. “Bringing his niece.”

  Hollywood, aka Captain Jason Andrews, was their CO. Born and raised in that legendary California town, it was rumored that his parents were both film stars.

  Cash surveyed the room, thought about tidying up and then decided that the doc’s orders to take it easy applied to anything that seemed remotely like cleaning. He’d taken the worst of last night’s hit, and wasn’t about to let any of them forget it, either. At least his ribs were bruised and not broken—they’d be healed before the surfing competition in Baja next month, and he had no doubt he’d be cleared for duty tomorrow—Thursday at the latest.

  “What for?” Rev drawled, and Hunt shrugged.

  “No clue. He did say not to worry about cleaning the place up,” Hunt said. He moved to the window, and abruptly let out a low wolf whistle. “And man, his niece is hot.”

  “What’re you looking for? You’re an old married man,” Justin said.

  “Carly and I aren’t married. Yet.” Hunt smiled, and Cash rolled his eyes. Hunt and his very own surfer girl were getting hitched in three months and they were happy as hell. It was sickening.

  “What’s Mac’s niece look like?” Rev asked.

  “Long dark hair, about halfway down her back, maybe five foot five,” Hunt said, and Cash came up behind him to take a look. Cash froze for a second, not wanting to believe what was happening. But it was—happening like a freakin’ nightmare. It was Rina, Rina from Hawaii, and the admiral, known as Mac to his men, marching this way. Together. Directly toward him.

  No fucking way.

  Luckily, they moved into the officers’ tent rather than continue to head toward him like a guided missile on a path of pure destruction. If there was any means for escape, a trap door, a way to get up to the roof and go over and away as far as he possibly could…but that wouldn’t last for long. Mac would still hunt him down like a rabid dog in the street, make his death a slow and painful process.

  If Mac knew. Cash started to pray, hard.

  “You okay?” Hunt clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re breathing kind of funny. Ribs hurt?”

  Cash nodded. He couldn’t trust anything to come out of his mouth at the moment. Justin looked over both their shoulders.

  Cash wondered if his face was the same ashen color as Justin’s when he asked, “Are you sure that’s Mac’s niece?”

  Hunt studied the two of them and crossed his arms. “That’s what Mac said. Why? Has one of you slept with her?” Hunt laughed, and Rev joined in. Justin still hadn’t moved and Cash speculated as to how honestly he should answer that question, and figured there was no way around this one.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Rev, who’d been rocking his chair on its back legs, pushed a little too hard at Cash’s statement and toppled over. Hunt just stared at Cash, just stared, and he knew that it was as bad as he thought.

  “You’re sleeping with Mac’s niece?” Rev’s voice came up from the floor. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “The answer to that is yes. It’s always been yes, but even for you, this is bad,” Hunt told him.

  “Sleeping with makes it sound like it’s present tense. It happened once. Okay, four times, but over the course of one night.” Four amazing times.

  “Do you want to explain how this happened? His niece only got into Little Creek last night, and you were in the hospital until midnight,” Hunt said.

  Just thinking about the fall he’d taken last night during training made Cash’s ribs ache.

  Justin chimed in with the explanation. “She was the documentary maker from Hawaii.”

  Cash was unable to actually process how something like that could happen. How did the world get so small and thrown off its axis at the same time?

  “Does she know you took the zip drive from her bag?” Justin asked him. Justin had been in charge of taking the film from the office in Hawaii where she edited.

  Cash shrugged. “I’m not sure. I left early that next morning, and I didn’t exactly say goodbye.”

  “Holy crap.” Justin buried his face in his hands and Hunt just shook his head.

  “You’re screwed, brother. And not in any good way.”

  “She’s supposed to be out of here. She told me she was leaving for Africa,” Cash said quickly, even though it was obvious that Rina was no closer to Africa than he was. His teammates continued to stare at him as if he was a dead man walking. “Aw, come on, tell me it’s not as bad as I think it is.”

  “Bad? It’s worse than bad.” Justin snorted. “Career-ending. Life-as-you-know-and-love-it-ending bad.”

  “And now it’s about to get worse,” Hunt said.

  “How’s that possible?” Cash asked.

  “Gentlemen,” the admiral’s voice rang out through the tent. “At ease. This is a social call.”

  They all turned to face their superior.

  Cash stood halfway between Rev and Hunt and behind Justin, and for the first time was grateful to be the runt of this particular SEAL litter, standing at six feet two inches.

  “I’m sure your CO told you that I’d be stopping by. This is my niece, Rina Calhoun.”

  You could’ve asked her last name. Should have. Even though he knew it wouldn’t have helped in this case, he still made a mental note to always get last names from the women he slept with before he slept with them. And background and family-tree checks were becoming a necessity, too.

  “You can call me Rina,” she said.

  “Hi, Rina. I’m Jon Huntington, but you can call me Hunt.”

  “I’m Justin Brandt, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”

  “Etienne Labordeaux, ma’am. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Suck-ups.

  At least there was no recognition in her eyes when she saw Justin. He’d stayed under wraps and undercover. Good for him, worse for Cash.

  Justin stepped aside, the traitor. “And this is Johnny Cashman. But you can call him Cash.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, and heard Justin make a soft choking noise behind him. He made a mental note to kill his friend later. Once the other SEALs on his team found out about this one, there’d be no stopping them.

  Rina took Cash’s offer of a simple handshake, met his eyes and smiled. It was the sort of smile that held a certain amount of “holy crap” shock in it, and it was definitely kind of frozen in place, but at least she hadn’t said anything. Yet.

  Just when he thought he understand the universe’s idea of a joke, she had to throw him a wipeout like this. Something he’d never have expected in a million years.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Rina said quietly, and he knew he’d have to find a way to get her alone later. Find some way to make sure she kept her mouth shut about their adventure.

  The surfing thing was bad enough, especially since he’d promised his CO he would not do big-wave surfing while he was on vacation. And if Cash had any shot at the executive officer spot, he’d toe the line any way he had to.

  Toe it, and then sneak off to Hawaii and hope he wasn’t injured big-wave surfing because he was a firm believer in what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. Although, after today, he was scrapping that belief completely.

  Couple the off-the-cuff-and-on-the-QT—thanks to Justin’s DEA agent friend, Turk—Gray Ops mission he’d managed to combine with the surfing thing, it was no wonder he wasn’t a puddle on the floor right
now.

  Keep it together. She’s not saying a word.

  If Admiral James Mackenzie found out about any of this, Cash would certainly be hurt in many different and equally excruciating ways. He fought the sudden urge to cover his balls and thanked his lucky stars that he’d destroyed the last of the footage Justin had stolen from Rina and Co.

  Mission Wave Runner had been a complete success. Under the DEA’s supervision he and Justin had managed to bring in part of a drug-smuggling ring that used wave runners and big-wave surfers to do their dirty work. It was only a matter of time before authorities had enough evidence to take down the biggest piece of the puzzle, and he and Justin didn’t need to be involved in that portion of the mission.

  Mission Keep It In His Pants promised to have a slightly different ending.

  “So, how long are you visiting for, ma’am?” Cash asked, and was surprised to hear his voice sound comparatively normal. Justin snorted again and yes, his best friend was going down later.

  “I’ll be here for about three weeks,” she replied, and Cash could see she was trying her best not to look directly at him. And he was trying his best not to picture her naked, in his arms, murmuring his name—and found himself unable to picture anything but that.

  She finally caught his eye and her cheeks flushed slightly. Just the way they had that night and he wished simultaneously that he’d called her since then and that he’d let Justin take care of the whole investigation in Hawaii.

  Of course, that would mean Justin would’ve hit on her, or worse…. The thought alone made his fists clench. He narrowed his eyes at Justin, who opened his eyes wide and shrugged, and Rev shoved both of them discreetly.

  “Rina shot a recruiting video for the Marines a few months ago,” the admiral was telling them. “And they liked the new idea she came up with, too. So much so, that she’s gotten approval to start filming ASAP.”

  “Another recruiting film?” Rev asked.

  “Sort of,” Rina said, and Cash’s gut clenched with an intuition born and bred into him. He knew he wouldn’t like the rest of the answer.