A SEAL's Secret

by Tawny Weber

  She could run a four-minute mile, lead an advanced interval-training class for fifty women while giving detailed verbal instructions, or handle herself in the kickboxing ring against a toothless bruiser named Bubba.

  And she could do them all with a big smile, an average maximum heart rate of 120, and absolute faith her training meant that even if she got distracted by talking, muscle memory would get her through the workout.

  But right now her smile was as shaky as her knees. Her heart was beating so fast and loud that she was light-headed, and her muscles were going into meltdown.

  All it had taken was a single touch from Super Hottie.

  Or...

  Um, what had he said his name was?

  Livi wet her lips, about to ask, when she realized she was still shaking his hand. No, it’d been so long now that she was just holding his hand.

  Could she be a bigger dork?

  Her cheeks warming, she let go and stepped back. It took all of her resolve, and the image of her mother’s glare, to keep Livi from turning heel and running out of the room. And she’d thought she’d overcome her shyness? Ha. Making a complete ass of herself with the sexiest man she’d met in forever pretty much burst that illusion.

  Then she forced herself to stop. This was simply resistance. Maybe a dash of humiliation, but mostly resistance. Muscles weren’t built without it, she reminded herself. See it as a strength-training exercise.

  Rallying to the self-lecture, Livi took a slow, subtle breath, pulling the air all the way down to her belly button. She let it calm her, soothe the edgy nerves. Another breath and she was able to pull on her meet-the-press persona, complete with toothy smile.

  “Most people call me Livi,” she told him before inclining her head toward his friend, who appeared to be arguing with Tessa.

  But... Men never argued with Tessa.

  “I’m surprised he recognized me in this getup,” Livi said slowly, distracted by the other two. “Actually, I’m surprised he recognized me at all. That doesn’t happen very often.”

  “Romeo has a special knack,” Super Hottie said with a friendly shrug. “I keep telling him he’d be a great spy, but his memory is pretty selective.”

  “Romeo?” Tessa stopped whatever she was debating so fiercely to interrupt. She gave Super Hottie’s half-dressed friend an amused look then flicked her finger over the feather behind his ear. “And here I thought you were Tonto.”

  “And here I thought angels were sweet,” the man called Romeo shot back.

  Livi’s confused glance bounced between the two of them. Tessa seduced men. She didn’t argue with them. And the only guy Livi had ever seen go toe to toe with her usually charming friend had done so because he’d wanted to wear the feather boa in a dance number.

  What was going on?

  Frowning, she looked at Super Hottie askance. He gave a baffled shake of his head.

  “So what do you do if you’re not a spy?” Livi asked Romeo, with a bright smile, trying to smooth over the social awkwardness. An odd change since she was usually the one causing it.

  “I blow things up.” His smile coated in charm, he leaned back, draping one arm over the back of the chair. “Irish here does push-ups.”

  Oh, the images.

  Livi’s heart did a happy bounce just thinking of Super Hottie in a plank position, biceps and triceps bulging as he pressed. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  Whew. She wet her lips and wished she had a glass of water. Iced, preferably.

  As much to try to erase the tempting visual from her mind as to stop the conversation before it moved on, Livi waved her hand in the air.

  “Hold up. Romeo? Irish? I have trouble believing your mother looked at your sweet baby faces and decided to give you those names.”

  Romeo gave a snort that could have been taken as amusement if not for the quick flash of bitterness in his eyes.

  Super Hottie flew to the rescue so fast Livi wondered if she had been imagining things.

  “Romeo and Irish are call signs, nicknames, if you will. It’s a Navy thing, or rather a military thing.” Super Hottie offered a smile that rivaled his friend’s in charm. “I’d rather you just called me Mitch, though. And he’s Gabriel, if you were looking for something else to call him.”

  “I’ve got a few other things in mind,” Tessa muttered.

  Mitch. Livi was too busy rolling Super Hottie’s name around in her mind to do more than give her friend a quick elbow jab.

  “So Gabriel blows things up,” Livi said, her eyes locked on Mitch’s bright blue ones. They were hypnotic. Seductively hypnotic. “What about you, Mitch? What do you do?”

  Me, she wanted to suggest. I’d like you to do me.

  But for once, her bone-deep shyness came to the rescue, keeping her mouth shut before she blurted that out.

  “I’m a bit of master of everything. You name it, I’ve probably done it.”

  “Is that so?” Livi murmured, her mind rapidly compiling a list of things he might have mastered. Since most of them involved him being naked, her smile turned naughty. “Tell me more.”

  “Why don’t you name a few and we’ll compare notes.” Coming from any other guy, she’d consider that to be a pickup line. But Mitch looked as sincere as he did amused. He was so nonthreatening, he scared her.

  Or maybe that was the desire pounding through her body.

  She wet her lips, wondering how to find out.

  Before she could come up with any ideas, Tessa’s words caught her attention.

  “Livi can beat that. She is the push-up queen.”

  Frowning, Livi looked at her best friend. Had she missed the coronation?

  “I bow to her majesty’s prowess. But Irish is still the best.”

  Was he? He was busy watching the debate between Gabriel and Tessa, so Livi allowed herself to stare. He definitely had a great body. She could see enough of his muscle definition to give a nod to the Navy for a job well done. A great body was one thing. Knowing how to use it was another.

  Been there, done that, had the divorce papers to prove it.

  She was pretty sure Mitch knew what to do with his. A guy as hot as he was, as focused and intuitive? He had to, right?

  “You want to bet?”

  “Name the stakes, Angel.”

  “Anything you want says that Livi can beat Mitch at push-ups.”

  Livi blinked as the words filtered through her fantasies of what Mitch might do if he focused on her naked body.

  What?

  She shook her head then did a mental replay.

  “What?” She gave Tessa a baffled look. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just pointing out that you’re in great shape and you rock at push-ups.” Tessa shrugged. “Why not prove it?”

  “Maybe because I’m dressed like a snack cake.” Then Livi muttered out the side of her mouth. “Or maybe because I don’t want to? Besides, you’re in great shape, too. You prove it.”

  “You’ve got a bodysuit on underneath.” Ignoring the rest, Tessa frowned. Obviously she was more focused on beating Romeo at whatever private game they were playing than on Livi’s wants.

  “You’re seriously challenging my guy to a push-up contest?” His teeth flashed white against his bronze skin before Gabriel threw back his head and laughed. “Angel, he’s a SEAL. Best of the best. I know your girl is good, but she can’t be that good.”

  A SEAL?

  Livi melted a little inside.

  He really was Super Hottie.

  Livi’s eyes flew back to Mitch. He’d angled his chair so it was tilted against the wall, his booted foot on his knee. He watched Gabriel and Tessa continue their heated debate, his smile not shifting. Then he met Livi’s gaze and shrugged as if to say he knew their friends were acting crazy, but
what could he do.

  For the first time in her life, Livi considered ditching her friend and asking a guy to take her home.

  Then she could show him what she could do. Or better yet, he could show her.

  “C’mon, Liv. I’ll help you out of your costume.”

  “What?” Livi shook her head, wondering if that halo was squeezing Tessa’s head too tight. “I’m not taking off my clothes.”

  The words had barely left her mouth when she felt it.

  The air changed.

  Electrified.

  Startled, she looked back at Mitch.

  His calm amusement was gone. Instead, his eyes were intense. Filled with an unmistakable sexual energy that sparked a response so hot and fast Livi swore she had a tiny orgasm then and there.

  “How about a private bet?” he suggested quietly, his smile making it clear he was once again amused by the entire scenario.

  Livi frowned. Was he always so mellow and self-assured? The confidence might be a SEAL thing. His friend had it, too. But where Gabriel came across somewhere between confident and cocky, Mitch was simply sure.

  What was that like?

  Had the man never lost at anything?

  Livi had no idea where the urge came from. She was clueless how the words landed on the tip of her tongue. But before she could stop it, her own challenge tumbled out.

  “You’re on,” she agreed, leaning forward until she was nose to nose with him. For a second she lost her train of thought as his scent, rich and spicy, wrapped around her. His eyes were pure blue, she realized. Not a hint of gray or green. Gorgeous.

  And amused.

  It was the amusement that snapped her back.

  “I’ll double whatever they bet,” she said, tilting her head to indicate Tessa and Gabriel.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” Mitch promised quietly.

  Livi hoped she did, too.

  Five minutes later, the parameters had been set, enough spectators had realized a challenge was afoot and a crowd was gathering.

  Was she crazy?

  “So you really think you can beat him?” Tessa murmured as she unzipped the foam under Livi’s arm.

  Hell, no.

  “Why are we doing this?” she sidestepped. “Can’t we just have drinks with the guys and flirt?”

  “Flirt?” Tessa’s face curled into a combination of horror, disdain and something else. Something Livi couldn’t read. “You’re kidding, right? We’re not flirting with these guys. We’re beating them then taking our winnings and getting out of here.”

  “I’d rather flirt.”

  Which was saying a lot, since flirting tended to make her feel like she’d just broken out in a rash.

  “The guy is a SEAL.” Tessa said that the same way she’d state that he was a puppy-kicking Peeping Tom with a chicken fetish.

  “So?”

  “So, Pauline would have a cow if she found out. You know how she feels about Navy guys. She’d have a total meltdown, bitch for months and probably book you on a gig in Timbuktu to get you away from him.”

  Livi wrinkled her nose but couldn’t disagree.

  Pauline was Livi’s manager, the driving force behind Livi’s success. She’d managed, maneuvered and manipulated Livi into an enviable career, where she was currently teetering on the edge of fame and fortune.

  Livi didn’t figure any of that gave the woman the right to call the shots on her personal life.

  Pauline was Livi’s mother. The last time Livi had ignored her demands disguised as advice, she’d married Derrick. The price of her mother stepping in to clean up that mess had been a blanket promise to not do anything stupid again.

  Livi inspected Mitch.

  He was hot. He was sexy. He was seriously appealing.

  And he had enough charisma to shut down her brain.

  Did that qualify as stupid?

  Livi felt like Eve standing in an apple orchard. And the hottie with the big S on his chest was the biggest, juiciest, tastiest apple of the bunch. Did she follow the rules?

  Or did she give in to temptation?

  Duh. Like there was a choice.

  “We’ll just make sure Pauline doesn’t find out,” she murmured.

  “No,” Tessa protested. “Have pity. I’m a part of your crew. If you’re shipped off to Timbuktu, I’m stuck there with you.”

  Livi pulled her gaze away from Mitch to give Tessa an arch look.

  “Double dates with Dean Wickens, that drummer guy, Paul who never would admit his last name and those creepy twins,” she recited, ticking each off on her fingers. “Endless clubs, three production parties and my favorite pair of sneakers covered in purple paint.”

  Tessa’s face froze. Her eyes shifted to the corner then she lifted her chin. “What’s all that have to do with Timbuktu?”

  “In every one of those situations, you promised you’d owe me.” Livi inclined her head toward the corner. “I’m calling in your debt.”

  “Dammit.” Tessa huffed and crossed her arms over her chest to glare. When Livi’s expression didn’t change, Tessa rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. “Fine. I won’t tell Pauline.”

  Livi rounded her brow. Tessa pressed her lips tight and gave a sigh strong enough to knock over a horse.

  “God, you’re demanding. Okay, yes, I’ll stay with you and play backup.” Tessa huffed. “But only for an hour. No double dates.”

  “Works for me,” Livi agreed, almost giddy with excitement. “But just so I know, what’s your problem with Gabriel? I know you don’t go for military guys, but I’ve never seen you get straight-up ugly with one before.”

  “He’s just so unbelievably arrogant, like he’s so sure he’s perfect and knows everyone is just waiting to appreciate him.” The glare she shot across the room made it clear that disagreeing was pointless, so Livi hummed instead. “He’s obviously got a one-track mind. He thinks sex is the be-all and end-all. And who the hell looks that perfect?”

  Scanning from the top of Tessa’s perfectly tousled curls down her perfectly curved body to her perfectly polished toes, Livi could only shake her head.

  “The mind boggles,” was all she could say without bursting into laughter.

  From her narrow-eyed look, Tessa caught the amusement, anyway. She was silent for a moment then shook her head and changed the subject.

  “So, bottom line, can you win?” she asked. “Can you take Mitch?”

  “Yeah,” Livi promised. “I’m taking him.”

  With that, she stepped away. She pulled her arms free and shifted her head through the unzipped foam.

  Her eyes locked on Mitch’s as she stepped out of the costume, her body clad in a pale yellow racer-backed unitard. Maybe Livi had a touch of social anxiety, and she might not have anywhere near Mitch’s confidence. She might have a few insecurities and a whole slew of worries. Throw in a domineering mother, an absentee father, a soul-sucking ex-husband and a ticking time clock on her career, and she had a lot of baggage.

  But what she also had—and she was positive of this—was a rockin’ awesome body. She worked on it every day. She made her living with it.

  And she was going to use it to win this bet.

  * * *

  HOLY HELL, SHE was a Playboy centerfold wrapped in a wet dream mixed with an erotic version of the girl next door.

  Sexy and sweet, gorgeous and...

  Mitch’s brain shut off again as every particle of his being focused on Livi’s body. She was perfect. Like her face, her body was a contrast of strong and delicate. Broad shoulders and lightly muscled arms framed full breasts and a delicately tapered waist. Her slender hips curved out nonetheless. And those legs...

  Mitch gave a silent groan as his gaze meandered down legs so perfectl
y shaped, so temptingly long, that it’d take him hours to appreciate them the way they deserved.

  “You wanna wipe the drool off your chin?”

  “What?” Mitch realized what he was doing. He gave his friend a hard look. “What the hell is going on?”

  Gabriel pulled a contemplative face, leaned back in his chair and locked his hands behind head.

  “Hmm, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re horny for the Twinkie. And seeing as how her body has made many a man sit up and beg, that’s not a surprise.”

  How many a man? And how had Romeo recognized Livi?

  “Details,” Mitch demanded.

  “She’s the hottest thing to hit fitness in years,” Gabriel told him. He grinned at Mitch’s haughty look. “I dated a gal who was trying to get on her workout team. Olivia Kane, The Body Babe. I watched a few of her videos with Casey. Or was it Carey?”

  “You should keep records,” Mitch suggested, shaking his head. “Or maybe figure out a mnemonic rhyme to remember who’s who.”

  “Not enough letters in the alphabet for that, Bro.”

  But Mitch wasn’t paying attention anymore. He was busy watching Livi stretch one arm over her head and catch her fingers with the other behind her back. The move pushed her shoulder blades together and lifted her breasts higher. His body went into overdrive, lust pounding through him in throbbing waves.

  Mitch wasn’t a horn dog. Not like Romeo pretended to be. He appreciated women, and had definitely had more than his share. And like Romeo, he never had to pursue them. Which made it easy to walk away. When he was redeployed. When he was sent on a mission. When he was ready to move on. Mitch only had one true passion, one focus.

  His career.

  Livi bent in half, her hands flat on the floor, butt high and back arched, so she faced forward. Her ponytail swung in time with the pulsing moves she made to warm up and stretch out her muscles.

  For the first time in his life, he wondered if he had room for another passion.

  “You looking to start something up with her?” Romeo asked, his tone low and quiet. “If you do, be careful.”