“What’s the matter?”
But she didn’t answer. Just shook her head. And smiled a more genuine smile this time. “I’m going to miss you.”
She hurried off across the grass toward the family mansion before he had the chance to tell her that he’d miss her, too.
A lot more than he would have thought possible after such a short time.
Epilogue
Tansy Leighton walked into the FUBAR in the middle of Happy Hour. She’d left the designer originals and thousand dollar shoes at home, but even so, she elevated the tone of the place.
It was dark and dingy, and mostly filled with very buff guys in tight T-shirts and cargo pants, plus a few women who clearly weren’t happy to see her. She got interested looks from a lot of the men, and scowls from all of the women. They obviously didn’t welcome the competition.
That was OK. Tansy wasn’t interested in any of the guys they were chatting up. She had her heart set on a certain SEAL, and if he wasn’t here, she was leaving again.
And then she’d knock on every door in Virginia Beach until she found him, if she had to.
But no, that wouldn’t be necessary. She recognized Max first. He wasn’t easy to overlook, with his height and that shock of almost white-blond hair. Next to him, she saw Rusty’s auburn head, and next to him again, a short guy with black hair she thought might be Andy Lee, their computer guru. And then—her heart skipped a beat—there was John. His shoulders stretched the fabric of the plain white T-shirt he was wearing, and his hand was wrapped around a bottle of beer. Even from over here, she could see that his knuckles were bruised from hitting Conrad.
Max saw her first, in the mirror above the bar. He nudged Rusty, who nudged Andy, and all three of them slipped off the bar stools. John turned to them—probably to find out what was going on—and Max said a few words.
Tansy saw his response in the sudden stillness of his body, and for a second her heart stopped.
What if he wasn’t happy to see her? What if he’d just been caught up in the moment when he told her he thought he loved her? When he kissed her like he didn’t want to let her go?
What if he didn’t want her now that she was here?
But then he turned toward the door, and she saw the truth on his face. His eyes were lit up, and he was smiling so widely she could see every tooth. And she wondered how she could have ever thought his smile was anything but perfect.
He caught her halfway across the floor, and swung her around. She almost knocked a tray of glasses out of the hands of a waitress who was squeezing by, and she managed a breathless apology before John kissed her, and took her breath away all over again.
A minute later he was leading her back toward the bar. The applause had ended, and Tansy was flushed and disheveled and couldn’t remember when she’d been happier.
Yes, he wanted her.
“So what are you doing here?” he asked when Tansy had a glass of white wine in front of her and had taken her first sip. It tasted like battery acid—or like she thought battery acid might taste—and even her happiness at the moment couldn’t make her drink any more of it.
She pushed the glass aside. “My dad and Mick both thought it would be a good idea for me to get away from Philadelphia for a while. Conrad’s in prison—the judge set the bail too high for him to get out—but he has friends in the area. I don’t think anyone seriously thinks one of them will come after me—I don’t think anyone liked Conrad enough for that—but it’s a precaution that made sense.”
Especially since she’d wanted an excuse to leave anyway. Her father, understandably, had been concerned about letting her out of his sight.
“I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. So here I am.”
He nodded. And Tansy heart sank. “You don’t seem happy.”
“It’s not that I’m not happy. I’m just trying to figure out what to expect.”
“Expect?”
“Time-wise. And otherwise.”
“I don’t understand,” Tansy said. She’d come here expecting him to be happy to see her. And he had seemed happy. But now...
He took her hand between both of his. They were big and hard and strong-looking. Tansy shivered as he ran his thumb across her knuckles. When she looked up at him, he said, “I’m already half in love with you. If all this is, is a week of slumming with the Navy SEAL, I need to know that up front, so I can prepare myself.”
She didn’t say anything—what was there to say?—and he added, “I’ll still take you up on it. Right now, I want you more than I want my next breath. I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me. But if you’re not offering at least a chance of something beyond the next couple of days, I need to know, so I can be prepared for when you leave again.”
Tansy shook her head. “I’m not leaving. I bought an apartment on the beach. I thought I’d take a little time to get situated—it’s not like I have to work, after all...”
She grimaced apologetically, “and then maybe I could find some volunteer work or start a business or something.”
John just stared at her.
“I’d like to get to know you better,” she told him. “I like you. A lot. I think I might do more than like you. But we’ve only known each other a few days. And I know you worry about the money.”
“I don’t worry about the money,” John said. “I worry about the fact that I don’t have any. And you have a lot.”
“Nobody would think you’d be marrying me for my money,” Tansy said. And backpedaled when she realized what she’d said. “I mean...”
He grinned. “You proposing, princess?”
“Would you say yes if I did?”
He shook his head.
“Like I said, I’d like to spend more time together. I’d like for you to realize that the money isn’t important.”
He looked like he didn’t believe her, and she added, “It’s nice to have. I’m not denying that. But it can be a problem. You know that better than anyone. You’ve had to rescue me from fortune hunters twice. Just think of the favor you’d be doing me if you married me. I wouldn’t have to worry about it ever again.”
“They’d still try their luck,” John said. “I’d have to go away, you know. On deployment. And training missions. You’d be alone some of the time.”
Just as long as he didn’t find himself one of those... what had he called them? Cruise boos?... while he was away.
“I think,” Tansy said, “that once I mentioned my very hot, very dangerous Navy SEAL husband, they’d slink away with their tails between their legs.”
He didn’t say anything, and Tansy added, “Please, John. Just give me a chance. Give us a chance. You told me if I came to Little Creek you’d buy me a drink and tell me how to spot a guy who doesn’t care about my money. And I’m looking at him. Give him a chance.”
John glanced around the room. He rubbed the back of his neck.
Tansy glanced around, too. She guessed she might have to get used to coming to places like this, if she was going to live like normal people.
And really, it wasn’t too bad. The wine was awful, but maybe she could learn how to like beer. And the clientele was first rate. The members of John’s team were over in the back, shooting pool. Or at least two of them were: Rusty and Andy. Max was...
She looked around.
Max was trying to chat up the waitress she’d almost bowled over when John swung her around earlier. And he clearly wasn’t getting anywhere. The girl, a pretty redhead who looked like she was doing everything she could to look as plain as possible, was listening to him, but both her body language and her expression said she wished she was somewhere else. And as Tansy watched, she escaped. She said a couple of words and then hurried off. Max was left staring after her with a frustrated expression on his face.
“All right,” John said.
Tansy turned to him. “Excuse me?”
He grinned at her. “I said ‘all right.’ I’ll marry you.”
�
�I didn’t ask you to marry me.”
“Sure you did.” He slid off the bar stool and held out a hand to her. “Show me this beach condo you bought. Is there a bed?”
“Fully furnished,” Tansy said, and put her hand in his.
“Then I say we go try it out. I don’t have to be back on base until oh-seven-hundred.”
“Plenty of time.”
“Not for what I have planned,” John said and headed for the door.
Thanks for reading JB and Tansy’s story. I hope you enjoyed it.
* * *
If you’re interested in more stories about Alpha Squad, keep reading for an excerpt of Max’s story,
The Stripper and the SEAL.
Excerpt
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Max noticed the new waitress the second he walked into the FUBAR.
She was the kind of woman one noticed. Especially in a place like the FUBAR, which was loaded to the rafters with testosterone. Located within a couple miles of the Joint Expeditionary Base, not to mention the Naval Base Oceana, the Naval Shipyards, and the Dam Neck Training Center, the FUBAR did a brisk business in beer and sometimes stronger stuff for tired Marines and sailors, and those with something to forget or celebrate.
Most of the waitresses hired on to get close to the men. The few female guests were there for the same reason. When Max walked in, followed by three other members of SEAL Team Sixteen’s Alpha Squad, they got quite a few appreciative looks from the women.
Not from the redhead, though. She took one look at him, turned pale, and ran in the other direction.
Or if she didn’t exactly run, she moved like a blur, like she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
It was weird, because Max could have sworn he’d never seen her before. He would have remembered. She was memorable, even though she’d obviously done her best to look as plain as possible.
She was tall, and he liked that. He was over six-and-a-half feet, and some little five-foot armful just made him worry he’d hurt her without meaning to.
She had red hair, and that was memorable, too. Blondes and brunettes came and went, but he didn’t see that many redheads. She’s scraped hers off her face into a braid that was tight enough to pull her eyebrows back, but he could tell it was long and thick, and—judging from the ends—probably curly, or at least had a nice wave to it.
Her face was perfect, even without any makeup. He wouldn’t say she didn’t need it, because outlining those eyes and painting the lips fire engine red would have made her into a knockout, but she was pretty damn gorgeous without a speck of paint, too.
And she had a body that just wouldn’t quit. Long legs in tight jeans, a slightly too-large T-shirt that she probably hoped would hide her assets, and a sway of her hips, even in sneakers, that made it look like she moved to the beat of some music no one else could hear. Something with a lot of bounce.
No, he’d never seen her before. Even dead drunk, he’d have remembered her.
So maybe it wasn’t him she was running from.
He turned to his crew. “Anyone else know the redhead?”
“What redhead?” JB said, predictably. JB was so hung up on the railroad heiress they’d left in Pennsylvania that he couldn’t see straight. Poor guy probably hadn’t even noticed the most gorgeous woman Max had seen in a while.
“Never mind.” He looked at Rusty and Andy Lee.
“Doesn’t look familiar,” Andy said. Rusty shook his head. A man of few words, Rusty.
So maybe Max had been wrong and she wasn’t running from anyone in particular. Maybe she just didn’t like the looks of them. The SEALs did have a look all their own. They were exempt from the flattop haircuts of the regular sailors, and you’d never mistake one of them for a jarhead.
So maybe she thought they were civilians, and she wasn’t interested.
“Are we gonna stand here,” JB wanted to know, “or are we gonna drink?”
Trying to drown his sorrows, probably. He hadn’t been happy to leave the heiress behind, but it wasn’t like he could have taken her with him. If she wanted to come to Little Creek and take up with an enlisted man, that was going to have to be her choice.
“We’re gonna drink,” Max said, and led the way to the bar.
Up on a barstool, with a beer in front of him, he nodded to the bartender. “Who’s the new waitress?”
She’d come out of hiding, and was circling the room. Keeping a wide berth to the bar, though. She’d glanced at him once—he was pretty sure of it—and had looked away quickly when she caught him looking back.
Not the kind of coy look a woman gave a man she was interested in. More the kind of look a woman gave a man she was afraid of.
“Bree?” Jim said. “She came in yesterday looking for a job.” He followed the redhead with his eyes as she moved around the room. “So far she’s doing all right. The guys seem to like her.”
“What’s not to like?” Max took a sip of his beer.
She didn’t look anything like a Bree. Brianna, maybe. She might be Irish, with that red hair. Although the complexion—milky white and perfect—didn’t look anything like the freckled, transparent skin he usually associated with the nationality.
Just because he didn’t think her name fit, didn’t mean she’d made it up, though. If she said her name was Bree, it probably was.
The front door opened, and a gorgeous blonde walked in. She’d tried to dress down, too, but she still looked like several million bucks, and she was worth at least that much. Jim’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit. Is that...?”
Max nudged Rusty. Rusty looked up into the mirror behind the bar, and nudged Andy. Andy looked up into the mirror, and glanced at Max.
“How about some pool?” Max said, and took his beer with him while JB leapt off his stool to meet the heiress in the middle of the floor, where he picked her up and swung her around. They damn near knocked Bree off her feet as the new waitress tried to squeeze by with a tray full of drinks.
In the back, the three of them tossed a coin to see who would play first, and Rusty and Andy got busy racking up balls while Max leaned against the wall and looked around. JB and Tansy finished their tonsil examination in the middle of the floor, to a round of applause, and went back to the bar, where Tansy climbed up on the chair Andy had vacated. Jim poured her a glass of white wine. Max could have told her that wasn’t a good idea—it wasn’t likely to be the kind of wine she was used to—but she must have figured that out for herself after the first sip, because she pushed the glass away. She and JB went off into conversation. He looked happy, which was nice.
Max lifted his empty bottle at the barman for a refill, and Jim nodded. Behind him, Max heard the crack of the break, and the sound of balls rolling. He turned his back to the room to watch the game.
It was a couple of minutes later that he felt a presence at his left shoulder. When he turned, the new waitress was standing there.
She was even prettier up close, and for a second he couldn’t get his voice to cooperate. All he could do was stare at what had to be the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen.
What was she doing serving drinks in a place like this? She should be on a magazine cover, or on television, or up on a billboard in Times Square, wearing Victoria’s Secret lingerie and not much else.
Or in his bed, wearing nothing at all.
The image made him light-headed for a second, and by the time he came back to himself, she’d gotten impatient. “Jim said you wanted another beer.”
Her voice was nice, too. Low and sort of smoky. Even when it sounded annoyed.
Max reached for the beer without taking his eyes off her. “Where have you been all my life?”
She rolled her eyes. They were gorgeous, too. Big and light brown, sort of like toffee. Or good whiskey. Or beer.
All things he liked a lot.
And yeah, it wasn’t the smoothest line. Although it was how he felt. He was thirty-two. Where had she been until now?
Certainly not anywhere
around here.
She didn’t answer, of course. So he dug a bill out of his pocket and put it on the tray to cover the beer. “Keep the change.”
Her eyes flickered to it, and back to his. It was a big tip, and it looked like she was worried about that. Hopefully she wasn’t thinking he was trying to buy her.
Since that was the last thing he wanted, he gave her a nod and turned away, back to where Rusty and Andy were playing. But he was aware of every second she stood there, and knew just when she turned and walked away.
* * *
If you’d like to read more of Max’s story, please visit my website,
www.jennabennett.com/the-stripper-and-the-SEAL/
for links to the vendor platform of your choice.
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Jenna Bennett writes the Savannah Martin romantic mystery series, the Soldiers of Fortune futuristic suspense series, and the Alpha Squad military suspense series, among a lot of other books. As Jennie Bentley, she wrote the New York Times bestselling Do It Yourself home renovation mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime. For more information about Jenna/Jennie and all her works, please visit her website, www.jennabennett.com
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You can sign up for her newsletter, with updates for preorders, new books, and other interesting stuff regarding all her books and series, by clicking HERE
THE SOCIALITE AND THE SEAL
Alpha Squad Book 1
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Copyright © 2017 Bente Gallagher
All rights reserved.
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Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
The Socialite and the SEAL Page 15
