“Over there,” Sloane’s admin lieutenant said, leading the way toward the far left of the large deck and the last available table with enough chairs for all of them.
Five women grabbed a wrought iron seats warmed by the summer sun and settled in for a frivolous confab and a couple cold beverages.
Jen, a single mom, struggling to get back on her feet after her husband had been killed over a year ago in Syria, sat on Sloane’s right. Jen was the only gal in her office who’d married a SEAL. The rest either avoided them or notched their purse strap with a one-night stand, but nothing more.
Dawn had been stationed at Coronado a few months before Sloane. They were the same age, but their similarities stopped at birthday candles. Dawn continually complained about not losing an extra twenty pounds. In Sloane’s opinion, her co-worker looked beautiful, regardless of what the scale said.
Deborah rounded out their entourage. Mid-thirties and a blonde bombshell who never stayed with them long on their Friday night liquid debrief because some guy inevitably came sniffing around to lure her away. Deborah loved sex and men, and wasn’t afraid of taking any opportunity to heat up the sheets.
“It was a good week, ladies.” Sarah, their lieutenant, offered as a pat on the back. “I’m buying the first round.”
“Hooyah,” they said together and laughed, then flung themselves into conversation.
“Wonder who’s on the menu, tonight?” Deborah asked with a wicked smile, glancing around the patio. At least five guys threw interested looks their way.
“Jesus, Deb, have one drink before you open your thighs,” Jen teased.
Deborah’s brows arched and she laughed. “I’m feeling a little anxious. It’s been a whole week.”
“Wooo,” Jen slurred. “A whole week, huh? Try a whole year.”
“Yikes,” Deb mouthed.
“Hey, look who’s here.” Sarah nodded toward the entrance.
Lieutenant Damon Stone scanned the patrons, and his gaze stalled on Sloane. His head lowered a little and a sexy slip of a smile stretched his lips.
Sloane didn’t break the gaze between her and Damon. “Forget my policy, Lieutenant? SEALs are a no-go. Strictly verboten.”
“Even in another language, you can’t tell me you’re not attracted to that. He’s all big and juicy,” Deb said, ogling him.
Sloane shifted a little in her chair, seeing the hungry look in Deb’s eyes, and ignored the flick of jealousy flashing through her belly.
“Who is he?” Dawn asked.
“That’s Damon Stone,” Jen answered. “He was with my husband when he was killed. He’s a sweetheart, really. He and the other team guys helped me a lot after Paul died.”
They took a gossip pause when the waitress came to get their drink orders. Sloane’s gaze drifted to the table where Damon sat with a group of men. A second later, one of the guys headed their way.
“Hey, you’re Deborah, aren’t you?” the guy asked when he reached their table. Undoubtedly a SEAL, he cocked his blond head of hair, giving her an interested eye.
Deborah extended a graceful hand. She nodded. “And you?”
“Aiden Carmicheal. They call me Dart.”
A sensual twist of Deborah’s lips said she was amused. “Fast, are you?”
A grin cracked Dart’s face. He was more Sloane’s age, but he didn’t look opposed to mixing it up with an older woman.
“Maybe. Why don’t you girls join us? We’ve got room at our table.”
Sloane’s stomach tightened. At Damon’s table? No way. Doing that would put her policy at risk for sure. Drinking, laughing and being too close to Damon would pose a problem.
“What do you say, ladies?” Deborah asked.
“Sure, why not,” their lieutenant agreed, rising from her chair.
“Think I’ll hang here,” Sloane said quietly.
“Oh, come on,” Sarah jibed. “He won’t bite.”
Dart turned a hot look Sloane’s way, thinking Sarah was talking about him.
“Not sure I can promise that,” he said with an I’m-into-a-three-way look.
Ugh! “I’m good. Thanks, anyway.”
Her phone bleeped and a text from Randy appeared.
Where are ya, baby?
She thumbed her phone. Breakers. Why?
Be there in thirty seconds.
It was Friday night, Randy should definitely be busy with an appointment.
“Come with, Sloane,” her lieutenant pressed, giving her head a jerk toward the other table.
“Thanks, got a friend showing up shortly.”
“Friend?” Sarah’s inquisitive nature perched a smirk on her lips.
Damon watched the ladies leave her table. SEALs weren’t known for hesitating, and he pushed his chair back, seeing she wasn’t doing the same.
Oh, shit! Just then, Randy came through the street access gate. After a quick survey, he passed Damon and headed straight for her.
His eyes glinted with a familiar warmth. “Hey, sweetie.” Leaning over, he planted a long surprising kiss on her lips.
Don’t look. But she did once Randy retreated from his public display of affection. Her attention darted to Damon, who’d stopped in the middle of the patio deck, staring at them. A scowl crowned his features before he turned back. She didn’t know if she was upset about that or not. The churning in her stomach said she might be.
“Not busy tonight?” Sloane asked as Randy dragged the heavy metal chair closer to her.
“Nah, thought I’d take my favorite client out for dinner. What do ya say?”
Randy’s brilliant amber eyes practically ate her up. His handsome face attracted the attention of the women sitting close by. Breakers was a well-known base hangout and when ladies from town wanted a quick and dirty hookup with a Hunks Ahoy, they often showed up here, hoping for some no-strings fun. Her hire-by-the-hour friend didn’t run the O-course on the base anymore, but he kept in shape, which drew more than a glance with his well-proportioned physique.
She liked Randy. Liked him a lot, but Damon’s gentle admonishment had made her think twice. “Do you want to eat here?”
He shook his head. “It’s good food, but I was thinking something a little more private.”
She laughed. “Randy, even at half price, I can’t afford you this often.”
The cocky smile disappeared. “This isn’t business, Sloane. This is a date. Me asking you.” His hand threaded through her hair. Slowly, he pulled the pins, never taking his eyes from her. Dropping each one on the table till he had them all out, then he used both hands to finger through her waves. “I’ve been thinking about you all week, actually.” He leaned forward as if wanting to brush his delicious lips across hers, but resisted. “Truth is, I can’t stop. Why don’t we pick something up and head back to my place?”
His place? She’d never been to his place before. Whenever they had a date, they always ended up at her condo. Randy never brought his business home, and considering what his business was, it made sense.
“I—”
“Randy Washington, two visuals in one week. How about that.”
Damon towered over them, and she craned her neck to look up. No way of missing the rigid restraint as it wafted from his stance.
Randy leaned back in a relaxed gesture and nodded sharply. “Lieutenant.” His look darted between her and then Damon. “Yeah, some coincidence.”
Damon crouched down beside her and without hesitation, reached for her hand. This was getting weird because Randy still held her other hand in his warm grasp. “Sloane, I wanted to talk with you, if you could spare a couple minutes.”
“Maybe some other time, Lieutenant,” Randy jumped in. “We’re going out for dinner and leaving now.”
Damon’s head swiveled like a bird of prey. His eyes mirrored Randy’s but Damon’s were sharper, sparked with a warning.
“Won’t take long, Washington. I’m sure you can hang tough for a couple minutes.” The words slid from the corner of his mouth. It
was an order not a suggestion.
Randy jutted forward and laid one right on her lips, inches away from Damon. If that wasn’t a statement, she didn’t know what was.
“Just a couple, I don’t have a lot of patience when it comes to Sloane,” Randy said, and stroked a strand of hair from her cheek.
Damon hadn’t let go of her hand, even when Randy kissed her, and she hadn’t missed the squeeze when he did. He tugged gently and pulled her out of the chair. They maneuvered through a new group of incoming as Damon led her out to the street.
“What’s going on, Lieutenant?”
Damon turned, his brow taut. “Your bank account is going to go into overdraft with a guy like him, Sloane. What are you doing?”
She stepped back, but not enough to put space between her and Damon’s long stretch of an arm. He grabbed her shoulder gently. “Lieutenant, I appreciate your fatherly concern, but it’s a date, not business.”
Damon grunted and crossed his forearms, leaning over her. “I’m sure you think this is none of my business—”
“You’re right, it’s not.”
Damon’s eyes narrowed, and she resisted the temptation to look away. She had nothing to be ashamed of.
“A fucking escort-for-hire is not a date, Sloane.” His voice hardened. “Come back inside with me. Your girls are having a good time, and I don’t charge by the hour.”
“Problems?” Randy asked, stepping up to her side and winding his toned arm around her waist.
Blinking at his sudden appearance, she said, “No.”
“Yes,” Damon ground out. “What the fuck are you doing taking advantage of Sloane? Can’t you find enough business with rich divorcees?”
Randy’s expression morphed from inquiring to irritated. “Fuck you, Lieutenant.”
Their voices rose. The two men glared at one another, and their body language stiffened.
Sloane turned to see a few of the team guys had noticed the testosterone standoff, and three of them pushed back their chairs. Not good.
She had to dissolve the angst brewing. “Listen you two, I don’t know what this is, but cut the crap.”
Randy grilled Damon when he said, “Think the Lieutenant might have a thing for my girl.”
“She’s your girl when she pays for it.” Damon’s arms slowly slid to his side and his stance widened.
“Look, Lieutenant, I’m not going to brawl with you in the street.” He shot a glance at the other three team guys who’d positioned themselves a few feet away, but weren’t going to get mixed up in this unless they had to.
“Do you even know who she is? Her father would exterminate you if he knew what you were doing. Whether you’re in service or not, you’re still a goddamn SEAL, have some respect.”
“Everyone is watching. Can you both turn it down a notch,” she interjected with a sharp hiss of words.
Randy reached for her hand. “Come on, Sloane. It’s time to go.”
What the heck should she do? This was definitely weird, and getting weirder by the minute.
“You both look like you’re about to go Neanderthal on each other.” What would her father do? The Admiral would grab both guys and smash their heads together, but after that he’d talk some sense into them. “Listen, why don’t we all go inside, sit down, and drink. We’re all good at that.”
Randy wrapped both his arms around her, looking unsettled. “Is that what you really want to do, Sloane? Don’t let this guy intimidate you.”
Damon hadn’t taken his eyes off her, or relaxed his stance.
“Come on. Let’s go inside and make nice,” she suggested.
“Doubt that,” Damon said, but followed them back onto the patio and joined the table with her co-workers.
Without much surprise, Damon and Randy turned into bookends, one on either side of her. Randy touched her often or simply kept his arm slung on the back of her chair while Damon darted concerned glances at her.
The band rocked some good tunes from inside Breakers and when they finally slowed their pace, Damon leaned over.
“Will you at least dance with me?” His low timbre slid against her ear and a sharp jab of unwanted desire spiked her pulse.
She had to break the tension some way because she wasn’t having a very good time.
“Where ya going, babe?” Randy asked, sounding a little too possessive for her liking when she rose from the chair.
He reached for her, but Damon’s hand shot out, intercepting with a white knuckled grasp on Randy’s wrist. “Think you’ve made your point. Take a break,” Damon warned, and released the grip on Randy’s wrist.
Randy didn’t rise to the challenge, but an angry glare shot through his eyes. Damon led her inside to join the bodies rubbing together on the small dance floor. Being folded in his arms made her heart flutter.
He finally smiled, his eyes twinkling beneath the colored lights above their heads. The hard angles of his handsome face relaxed. “Why don’t we head out the front door? It’ll take him at least five minutes to figure it out.”
“Lieutenant, I don’t get involved with SEALs, I told you that. If that’s your intention.”
“Give me one good reason why?”
“Thought I did,” she said, tilting her head, and feeling her bones melt a little with him so close and staring down at her. With his muscled arms wrapped around her body, she felt ridiculously and most disturbingly, safe.
The band took a break and before the canned music started, they both turned when a commotion rippled through the patrons.
“What’s going on?” Damon asked a guy beside them dancing with his wife.
The couple were in their fifties and she’d noticed them earlier. Their hands clasped, looking at each other with love, warmed Sloane’s heart.
The wife craned to look over the many heads toward the patio. “Looks like a celebrity just walked in.”
“Who’s that?” Damon asked over the music.
The woman grinned. “Admiral Austen and Snow White.”
“Good,” Damon said taking Sloane’s hand and cutting a path through the crowd. “You can introduce me again. Doubt if he’d remember me.”
She took the lead when they reached the patio. “Don’t count on it. Dad remembers everyone.”
Her parents were busy shaking hands and receiving a few hugs when she stepped into the circle of people surrounding them. “Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?”
They both turned. Her dad’s face lit with a smile.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He pulled her into a big bear hug and kissed her forehead.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Sorry, darling. Your dad was in a mood, so I suggested we get out for a bit. We can leave if we’re cramping your style.”
“Don’t be silly, Mom.” Sloane gave her a hug. “Why don’t we go join my table? There’s room.”
Her mom and dad stopped for a few more hellos from people they knew, and then wandered to their table. Randy and Damon both looked up. Sloane introduced the girls she worked with first. Deborah gushed all over her father while a bemused smile slid across her mother’s expression.
Mom and dad loved each other deeply. They always had, and although they sparred a lot, they rarely argued. But when it happened, both she and Adam would vacate the premises. Neither of her parents took prisoners when they fought, and then for about two days after, they rarely left their bedroom—ick. Sweet, but ick. No one liked to imagine their parents getting it on.
Her father paused and nodded at Damon. “Lieutenant Stone.”
Damon reached a hand out and her father shook it. “Nice to see you again, Admiral. Didn’t think you’d remember me.”
Her father’s gaze dropped to Randy, who shifted uncomfortably. “Randy Washington, heard you got out a while back.”
Randy stood and stretched a hand out to her father. “Admiral. Have my seat, Mrs. Austen, I’ll get another chair.”
Her mother offered her famous, demure smile. “Thank you, Randy.”
Her father watched Randy like a hawk as everyone shuffled and repositioned around the table.
“Can I get you a drink?” Randy asked, addressing her mom and dad, at the same time grasping Sloane’s shoulder.
Her father’s gaze sharpened to a pinpoint. Oh, he definitely knew Randy’s business and he didn’t look happy. Caught between a “rock and a hard spot” scenario spiraled in her stomach.
“No thanks, Washington,” her father said, then turned his attention on her. “Sloane.”
Her father had many ways of saying her name. This one was get your ass over here Sloane, or else.
“What do you want, Mom?” she asked. Even though she was nearing sixty, her mother was an incredibly beautiful woman. It was no wonder Dad never let his eyes stray after all these years.
“A glass of red, I think.”
More people stopped by their table, her mother’s attention drawn to the newcomers and saying hello.
Damon’s expression appeared satisfied, and she narrowed a look in his direction. The son-of-a-gun shrugged, and the grin got wider.
What an asshat.
Her dad’s fingers slid through Sloane’s and he tugged her inside to get the drinks.
“You better have a good explanation why a fucking man whore is touching you like that,” her father said, not mincing words when they reached the hallway between the patio and the bar.
“Dad.”
He burned a look at her across his shoulder then stopped dead. “Sloane, he left the SEALs and became an escort. What the hell’s he doing here, beside you?”
“Dad—”
Her father nudged her against the wall. A penetrating glare, the one he was famous for, bore into her. “Sloane Juuyáay Austen, you had better not be involved with that man. I don’t care how old you are, I’ll put you over my goddamn knee if you’re messing around with him.”
Code Name_War 0f Stones Page 3
