Code Name_War 0f Stones

by Natasza Waters

  “Afternoon, Lieutenant.” Adam appeared in the kitchen, then paused, reading the tension in the room.

  Damon held out his hand. “Nice to see you again, Adam. How’s Little Creek?”

  “No problems, sir.” He nodded.

  Sloane took the diversion as her chance to disappear, and she slipped out the patio door. Mom, Aunt Marg and Aunt Nina sat under an umbrella, taking a load off their feet. Sloane dropped down on the grass crossed-legged. Call her chicken, but when they were kids and played tag, the free zone was sitting by their parents. She figured only a lion-hearted man would approach a gaggle of moms and that included sizzling hot, gorgeous-eyed SEAL instructors too.

  “Honey, why don’t you take a break? Everything looks under control,” her mom suggested.

  Aunt Nina cocked her head. “Sloane, you look a little antsy.”

  “Thought I might scram for a bit and come back later.”

  Her mom sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Aunt Nina settled her glass on the tippy plastic side table.

  Aunt Marg shook her head and now all three were sitting up. “You have never abandoned an annual BBQ, ever. Spill, young lady.”

  “Afternoon.” His low timbre vibrated to her core.

  “Damon. Nice to see you came.” Her mother grinned and glanced at Sloane.

  Sloane swiveled on her butt and raised a hand to shield her eyes. “Food’s under the tents. There’s lots of it, don’t be shy.”

  Adam stood a pace behind Damon and raised a brow, as if he knew something was up and he’d find out what it was.

  She hated her brother.

  Damon kept his attention riveted on her, almost daring her. “Thought you might join me, Sloane. I’m sure you haven’t taken a break yet.”

  Obviously, Lieutenant Stone didn’t understand the “tag-you’re-it” rules of engagement.

  “I’m good, thanks. You go ahead.” Her jerk brother shook his head and tried to burn a grin.

  “This way, Lieutenant,” Adam said, and led him across the manicured lawn toward the food.

  All three of the most important women in her life sat staring at Sloane with their arms crossed.

  Aunt Nina chuckled. “You make a lousy hostess, Sloane. Any particular reason why?” She raised a finger. “And before you answer, consider the fact that we all have fantastic bullshit detectors.”

  Good old, Aunt Nina. Not one to mince words. “I’m not a lousy hostess. I told him where to find the food, and he’s free to stuff his face and drink himself stupid.” She nodded and grinned at them.

  Aunt Marg’s expression creased like she’d just seen a horrific car accident. “Sloane, that guy is top-shelf. Why wouldn’t you accept his offer to join him for lunch?”

  They’d keep on interrogating until she caved. “Because he’s a two-timing asshat. Good enough?”

  Marg, Nina and her mom shared a look. Aunt Nina shrugged. “I suppose. Honey, would you mind grabbing me a plate of food. My feet are killing me.”

  Sloane narrowed her gaze. “Now?”

  Aunt Nina smiled sweetly. “Unless you want your favorite aunt to pass out. Yes, now.”

  “You’re not her favorite aunt,” Marg argued. “I am.”

  “Psst. No, you’re not.”

  Sloane’s mom rolled her eyes. “I’ll get the plate.”

  “No, Mom. You rest. I’ll get it.”

  Sloane rose to her feet, then muttered to herself as she strode toward the food tents, commanding a thousand flies to infest Aunt Nina’s armpits. If she could pass Navy boot camp, she could handle a close encounter with a two-timing rat.

  Adam jerked his head, and Damon turned his when she sullied up to the folding tables.

  She plucked a paper plate from the pile and trapped a few napkins beneath her baby finger. “Just getting some food for my aunt.”

  “Was hoping you changed your mind.” Damon offered a warm smile that weakened her knees and her resolve to ignore him.

  Adam slipped away, leaving them alone, except for two kids picking Jell-O squares up with their fingers, then tipping their heads back for HALO drops into their mouths.

  “Nope.” Choosing sliced cucumber and some broccoli from the veggie tray, she delivered them onto the paper plate.

  Damon stepped up to her side. “Please, let me explain.”

  She shook her head and used the tongs to select a few slices of cold, smoked sausage her dad provided from his stash. “Lieutenant—”

  “We’re in your family’s backyard. Think you can call me Damon?”

  “No, sir. I can’t.”

  He lowered his gaze and took a deep breath. “I know how bad that looked at the beach.”

  She settled the plate on the table and straightened her shoulders. “I think I mentioned, I don’t date men from the base. There’s a reason for that. One of them is because you all have a problem keeping your dicks in your pants. I don’t need an explanation and I don’t need your dick.”

  He broke into a chuckle. “Glad we got that off the table, but you’re forgetting we were a breath away from kissing each other.”

  “A moment of weakness on my part. You work on the base. I work on the base. That’s it.”

  She gave him a plastic smile stiffer than the cutlery and continued moving down the table. Wives and girlfriends had brought food as well, and she dumped some nachos and salsa that looked tasty onto the dwindling empty space of the plate.

  “Your brother says stubbornness runs in your family.”

  Her head snapped up. “Did you tell him?”

  “Yes. I told him the truth, which you don’t want to hear.”

  “You’re right. Maybe you guys believe each other’s lies, but I don’t.” With the plate heaped enough to feed three women, she turned to leave. Then turned back. “When you decide to grow up, I might reconsider your offer. Mind you, I’ll probably be celebrating my thirtieth wedding anniversary by then!”

  Instead of donning a caustic or annoyed look like she expected, his eyes slivered. “You’re presuming someone would want to marry a sharp-tongued harpy like you.”

  “What!” she screeched.

  He shrugged one of his muscled shoulders. The kind a linebacker sports with the added benefit of pads. Damon didn’t have auxiliary equipment. Only his over-inflated attitude.

  He leaned closer. “I don’t know why it bothers me that your assumptions are wrong, but if you want to be a stubborn brat, be my guest.”

  Sloane’s wrist angled in readiness to plaster Lieutenant Smart-ass with the plate of food she balanced in one hand.

  Damon waited in all his glorious, heart-stopping maleness. His gaze dared her to make her move. What pissed her off is that he could read her so well. Was it worth it to engage him in a verbal game of You Sunk My Battleship? Probably not. “I am sorry about one thing.”

  Sensing her change in direction, Damon cocked his head.

  “I handled telling you about your mother, badly. I shouldn’t have delivered that note in the middle of your class. I apologize.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Doesn’t matter where news like that is delivered, but I’m glad it was you.”

  Her brow tightened. “Why’s that?”

  “It might have been months before I ever saw you. Maybe never. The base is so big.”

  She nodded. “Well, now you’re going to unsee me.” His top lip disappeared as he bit down on it and nodded slowly. A pregnant pause stirred an uncomfortable twinge to life in her chest. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lieutenant.”

  As she walked away, her father, Uncle Mace and Uncle Tony strolled across the lawn, beers in their hands, looking happy. Her dad caught sight of her and stopped laughing. His instincts on alert, he zeroed in on Damon standing at the table and changed course. Uncle Tony and Mace looked surprised but shadowed him.

  An evil grin tightened her lips. Dad would do her a favor. This time when he scared the shit out of her suitor, it would be a welcome extr
action.

  She delivered Aunt Nina’s plate and then Sloane pulled her tee over her head and headed for an empty corner of the pool. She needed to cool down and a couple strokes would help.

  Just before diving in, she glanced toward the food tents. What—the—hell? Damon, her dad, Mace and Tony were laughing together.

  Bastard.

  * * * *

  Sitting in lounge chairs around the pool, Damon was joined by some of the other instructors from the base. From his vantage point, he could watch Sloane’s movements, unless she disappeared into the house.

  Earlier, her father didn’t spare a second digging for answers. Damon kind of saw it as a rite of passage being interrogated by the most famous SEAL in history. Her father’s aim impeccable and without pause. “What did you do to my daughter?”

  He told them the truth. One Sloane hadn’t given him an opportunity to tell. Admiral Austen and her uncles thought it was hilarious and wished him luck climbing his way out of the hole he’d dug. They also confirmed Sloane didn’t want anything to do with a guy in the Navy. Then they talked shop for the next hour while downing three beers and filling their stomachs. Since her Uncle Mace and Tony used to be instructors at the base before shifting to counter intelligence, they offered their years of experience, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

  Uncle Caleb pulled up a chair and visited for a while. Lounging by the pool, they discussed Damon’s dad. Since his mother had passed, Damon’s father decided to deal with his grief in the bottom of a bottle. Damon wasn’t too worried, with his sisters constantly harping on the old man to see a counsellor. Eventually, he would.

  Damon had never lost a spouse, but he understood the pain of losing his mom and a few teammates over the years. Loving a woman and losing her had to be the worst. So he intended on giving his dad some leeway and time to take care of the grief in his own way.

  Uncle Caleb caught sight of his old team buddies and finished off the last of his beer. “You sure?” he asked before departing, standing up from his chair.

  “Bout what?” Damon smiled up at his uncle.

  Uncle Caleb grinned. “I remember when Kayla was pregnant with Adam. It changed Ghost’s life—for the better, but when Sloane was born, the Admiral changed from a warrior into a protective father. Parents aren’t supposed to have favorites, but the Admiral loves his daughter. He doesn’t see her as a young woman yet.”

  Damon nodded and his brows rose, waiting for the words of wisdom his uncle was about to deliver. “She is a woman. Eventually, he has to see that.”

  “Yeah, but what you don’t know is how much she’s like him, and that—my nephew—is something I don’t think you’re prepared for.” He chuckled and patted Damon on the shoulder, then wandered off.

  Six-feet-four inches of muscle and attitude landed in the empty lounger beside him. “So, you intend on letting my bratty sister chase you away?”

  He chuckled at her brother’s entrance. Adam shoved a cold beer in his hand. “Think she made her position pretty clear. Guy’s gotta back up a few paces when that happens.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Adam tossed back his head and emptied half the beer down his throat, then let out a deep sigh. He was definitely feeling no pain.

  “Hey, Kels!” Adam shouted at a woman wearing a red bikini stepping out of the pool a few feet away.

  An absolutely gorgeous brunette with the longest legs Damon had ever seen, wrapped a towel around her magazine-worthy curves. When she turned her head to look, he blinked. Wow, her eyes were incredible. Silver. Actually silver, but lightning sparked from them when she saw who called her.

  Adam chuckled. “That’s the woman I’m going to marry one day.”

  Damon nodded. “Sure. Good luck with that.”

  Adam barked with laughter. “You doubt me, sir.”

  “Looks like she’d rather see you drown.”

  “Yeah, maybe right now, but that’s because I just caught her in the house, shoved her up against the wall and kissed her until those amazing legs gave out.”

  Damon and the other instructors sitting nearby burst out laughing.

  If she was mad before, the brunette beauty really showed her anger by thrusting a middle finger into the air at Adam.

  Damon laughed at her antics. “Think you have to work on your approach a little more.”

  “Kelsey Cobbs is mine. She knows it.” Adam waved in response to her one-finger salute.

  Damon leaned forward. “Cobbs? As in Captain Patrick Cobbs’ daughter?” Adam’s cocky smile and nod confirmed his thoughts. “Jesus, kid, you better watch where you tread.”

  Adam gave him a sideways glance. “Look who’s talkin’.” He paused and ended with. “Sir.”

  The admiral’s son had all his father’s traits. That worried Damon a little. Most guys on the teams were confident. They had to be. Constant training gave them the skills they needed to stay alive, overcome fear and ignore discomfort in inclement weather. But when a team guy started to believe he was invincible, an IED could prove him wrong in a second. Adam couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He had a long career ahead of him, if he used his head.

  With a year in active duty on the teams, Adam would have seen enough to learn that a Superman cape and bullets bouncing off his chest only happened in comic books. With a sigh, he pulled back on the hammers. The kid was probably letting go, enjoying himself and happy as hell to be home with his family.

  The lanky brunette slid into the water again and Adam’s eyes never veered an inch from her. He had it bad for the woman.

  The light in Adam’s gaze didn’t dwindle but his smile did. “I’ve known her all my life.” He chuckled quietly. “Hell, at one time she babysat me.”

  “Older woman, huh?”

  “Five years, six if I want to get technical about it, and she keeps using our birthdays as an excuse, but that’s not the real reason she won’t give us a shot.”

  Damon didn’t have to know the whole story to put the clues together. Her father had been killed on duty. “Probably the same as Sloane. Doesn’t want to risk someone showing up at her front door telling her you’re dead.”

  Adam didn’t answer right away. “Maybe our percentages are higher, but people die every day.”

  The natural born instructor kicked into gear. “True, but you can lower those chances if you keep it real. You know what I mean?”

  Adam turned in the lounger and put his feet on the ground. “There’s no way to assure her I won’t die. Maybe I will. Dad sat me down for a two-hour convo when I passed my Qual Training. The one thing that stuck in my head was him telling me over and over again that he was lucky. Far luckier than most. Then he reminded me luck does not run in a man’s genealogy.” Adam bowed his head and inhaled deeply. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I don’t want to die either.” He looked across the many heads bobbing in the pool till he found the pretty brunette. “I want to live for her. For us. If she’d stop being scared for one second, I know I could convince her.”

  “I don’t know how old you are, Adam, but I can already see you’ve got the sensible traits of your mother. Your father was quite a player when he was younger. Maybe you should take some time to do the same.”

  “Been there, done that, sir. My parents didn’t meet until their late thirties. I don’t need to wait that long.”

  “What about your sister?”

  Adam squinted. “Yeah, well, she kinda got burned by one of my teammates. I warned her, but no one can tell Sloane anything. She’s just like Dad. Although a career with the Navy isn’t her lifelong dream, she likes the eight to four gig she’s got right now, and she likes being close to Mom and Dad.”

  A ruckus rose behind them, and people started to cheer. “What’s that about?” Damon asked.

  Adam hopped to his feet. “Games are about to begin.”

  “Games?” Damon hadn’t been to one of the Austen’s summer bashes before.

  “Yes, sir.” Adam yelled at the kids in the water. “Clear th
e pool. Games are about to begin. Everyone rally over there.”

  Damon watched from the sidelines for a while and had a few laughs. The Austen’s knew how to throw a party and unwind a tight bunch of warfare operators. Today was about family. Important for everyone who lived or loved someone working for Uncle Sam. He watched Sloane dive into the melee and participate in most of the games. She had no fear competing against man or woman. Obviously, she loved a challenge. Win or lose, she smiled.

  The more he watched her, the more Damon was sure he had to find a way to prove to this interesting woman, he was worth a second chance.

  Chapter Eight

  A set of casters rolling across the linoleum broke her concentration. “Yes, ma’am,” she addressed her lieutenant who sat snug to her chair.

  “Sloane, when it’s just you and me, Sarah will be fine. We’re practically the same age, for God’s sake.”

  Sloane saved her work on the computer because Murphy’s Law always had a way of wiping out ten minutes of entries when timing was the worst, regardless of autosave. “What’s up?”

  “Did you get the email about the special muster at noon?”

  “I did. I don’t know what it’s about though, do you?”

  Sarah swiveled her slightly overweight body and leaned toward her. “Something’s up, I know that. My husband Jake told me last night Admiral Paulson is coming.”

  Sloane tapped the end of a pencil on her desk. “I know him. He’s been to our house a ton of times.”

  Sarah’s reddish brows popped. “Really?”

  “Yup, he’s an old friend of my father’s. Admiral Paulson took over dad’s portfolio when he retired.”

  “What portfolio, exactly?” Sarah asked with a hungry look of gossip crouching in a ready-to-pounce gaze.

  “Sorry, classified. Dad didn’t ever say much about his last posting. All I know is it was Black Ops, through and through.” She wasn’t going to divulge a thing to Sarah. The woman was a true gossip, in the nicest way, of course.