Hot SEAL, Cold Feet

by Becca Jameson

  When he opened the door, he found Jodi sitting on the edge of the loveseat, leaning over the coffee table. She had a pill in her hand, and there was a small bag of pills on top of his forgotten folder in front of her.

  Tuck’s heart leaped as he took two strides across the room in less than a second, swatting at her hand to knock the pill free. The pill, the bag, and the folder went flying.

  “Jesus, Tuck. What the hell?”

  He leaned over her, one hand on the arm of the sofa. He couldn’t breathe. “What were you doing?”

  “Well, I wasn’t taking pills if that’s what you were thinking,” she shouted. “Come on. You know me better than that.”

  He shook his head. “Never thought you were. But where did you get them, and why the hell were you touching them?”

  “Chill, big guy. I found the bag of them in the ladies’ room on the sink. Someone must have forgotten them. I was going to bring them to you, but I think they’re just Advil or something. No sense losing your shit over some ibuprofen.”

  He stepped around her to the other side where the entire mess had landed all over the floor. He grabbed the bag of pills first. There were six in the bag still. He held it up with two fingers carefully on the edges, scrutinizing them before lowering them to set them on the coffee table. “Jodi, that was so reckless of you. If these are illegal drugs, just touching them could harm you. Why the hell would you hold something in your hand when you don’t know what it is?” He was trying hard not to yell at her, but she’d scared the life out of him.

  She swallowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, drawing in deep breaths. “Go wash your hands with soap, and bring me a baggy.”

  “Okay.” She jumped off the loveseat and rushed for the door.

  He scoured the floor, looking for missing pills and finding only one. Hopefully the one that was in her hand. He wasn’t sure if any had fallen out of the bag though.

  When she came back, she silently handed him a Ziploc bag. She was shaking, which made him feel like an ass. First things first though. He needed to know what they were dealing with.

  “Do you know how many were in the bag?”

  “Seven total,” she murmured. “I was holding one. Six were still in the bag.”

  Well, that was good. At least they were all accounted for. Tuck scooped up the lone pill from on top of the mess of papers all over the floor with the inside of the baggy, not touching it. He brought it over to the desk, lowered onto the chair, and used his phone’s camera to zoom in and get a better look at it.

  He flipped the pill over and looked at both sides. Finally, he blew out a long breath. There were three tiny numbers on one side.

  “You think it’s something?” Jodi asked tentatively.

  “No.” He leaned back and sighed. “It’s something over the counter. Probably allergy pills.”

  She exhaled, her shoulders relaxing where she stood across from him. She was still shaking though.

  He jumped up and rounded the desk to get to her, hauling her into his arms. “I’m sorry I overreacted. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked against his chest.

  When he tipped her head back, he found her eyes watery. She swallowed back tears.

  “Jodi, I’m so sorry. Please. Please. In the future, don’t touch anything you find. If that had been fentanyl, it could have absorbed through your skin.”

  “You don’t think someone is selling fentanyl here, do you? Aren’t we looking for diet pills?”

  “Yes. But you never know when the dealer might up his game. If he has a customer, he’ll bring anything.”

  She nodded. A tear fell.

  He felt like an asshole. “Jodi…” He wiped the tear away with his thumb.

  “It’s just…” She took a breath. “It was a stressful day. More for you than for me. And I made it worse.”

  He slid his hands up to cup her face. “No, you didn’t. You gave me a quick heart attack is all. It’s over.” He forced a smile. Thank God those pills weren’t something illegal. This time. “Will you please stop trying to play detective?” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, wishing for all the world that there had never been a Katia in his life. Screw the money. He wanted to kiss the woman in his arms right now.

  She smirked. “You just want me to wear T-shirts instead of tank tops.”

  He nodded, grinning. “Sure. Yes. That too. Call me a chauvinist.”

  “You know, I’m pretty sure business has picked up since I started exposing more curves and a bit of cleavage.”

  He lifted a brow, aiming to tease her. “Or… Maybe business picked up when you added a buff hunk of man at the front door.”

  She laughed. Thank God. “Shit. You’re right. That’s far more likely.”

  He didn’t want to tell her how to dress. Really, he didn’t. He wasn’t that kind of guy. But Lord it rankled him when he saw men staring at her chest for hours on end.

  She eased back, removing herself from his grip. He felt her absence immediately. Hated not being able to touch her how he wanted. To tell her how he felt. To hold her in his arms. Hell, he wanted to strip her naked and see what the rest of her breasts looked like. Not just the sliver of creamy skin he got from her cleavage.

  He didn’t want this time with her to end. He wanted to drag it out any way he could. “Is it true? Has business been a little better lately?”

  She sighed as she dropped down onto the loveseat. “Yeah. Not a lot, but some. We’ve been on a steady decline for several years. Ten years ago, this bar was the only one in the area. All the locals came here. Now there is a lot of competition, and Bridgman’s doesn’t have all the same amenities. It’s still the same small corner bar it always was.”

  “Have you ever considered adding a kitchen and offering at least a short menu of food?” He perched on the sofa next to her.

  “Of course, I have. The problem is we don’t have the space. I nearly salivate every time I walk by what used to be a barber shop next door. It’s been for sale for months. If I had the collateral, I could buy it and add a kitchen, but I don’t.”

  Tuck understood money problems. He had more bills than he had cash himself. He reached out and fingered a lock of her hair, wishing he could do more. This was all he could offer her right now. An ear and an occasional hug. “Sorry. That sucks. I get it. I’ve been so desperate for cash myself that I’m acting like a jackass on a reality TV show.” He forced a chuckle to lighten the mood.

  She tipped her face toward his fingers and brushed her cheek against them. “You’re not a jackass.”

  “Feels like it most days. I wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and think, what the absolute fuck are you doing, Tuck? I’m questioning whether or not it’s worth it more and more every day.”

  Jodi met his gaze. “It is. You have to remember the prize. The light at the end of the tunnel is coming.” She glanced past him toward the carpet. “Your papers are all over the floor.” She eased away from him, bent down, and busied herself picking up the mess. They were going to be out of order. He didn’t care. They were printed before today’s latest madness. Most likely someone had already made new plans for tomorrow. In fact, he needed to check his voicemail and see what messages had been left from the producer.

  Later. First, he wanted to spend a few more minutes with Jodi. Even on her knees, bent over the pile of papers, she was sexy. She had no idea how much he wanted her. So many words were stuck in his throat.

  Fucking contract.

  Chapter 9

  Tuck was still staring at Jodi’s fantastic ass encased in perfect-fitting jeans when she started giggling. Seconds later, the giggling switched to laughter as she jumped to her feet and spun around with a handful of haphazard papers. She held them out. “Oh my God. This is hilarious.” She stepped over the rest of the papers and plopped back down on the sofa. After dropping the messy stack on her lap, she picked up the top one and
cleared her throat. She was grinning ear to ear, unable to stop laughing.

  Suddenly, Tuck realized what was so funny. The script. The script she wasn’t supposed to see. The one the producers gave him earlier in the day to guide his conversations with Katia when he got home from work and tomorrow morning. The stupid script would be obsolete by now after the bedlam of the day.

  Tuck groaned as he reached over to snatch the pages from Jodi’s hands.

  She leaned back and jerked them out of his reach. In a goofy, high-pitched, sing-songy voice, she began to read. “Please please please, Tucky, can you take tonight off so we can go to dinner?”

  He lifted a brow, fighting his own laughter now. For one thing, he knew Jodi was embellishing the lines. For another thing, she was cute as hell. So he righted himself and crossed his arms to glare at her while she continued. He was certain his glare was more of a half-assed smirk that would do nothing to dissuade her from continuing.

  She spoke in a lower, fake, male voice this time. “Shnookums, you know I can’t take off. I just got this job. I don’t have vacation days. And I need the money.” She laughed and then continued. “Someone has to pay for all those shoes you buy while I’m working. Do you shop every day?”

  Tuck couldn’t help but chuckle when Jodi switched voices again and pasted on an exaggerated pout. “Tucky, you’re no fun. Don’t you want me to look my best?” Jodi lifted her leg and shook her foot, pretending to be Katia showing off her shoe.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Tuck who watched Jodi’s worn old Converse jiggle in front of him. Chances were Katia had never owned a pair of Chucks.

  He needed to check his messages and assess the day’s damage. He needed to find out what his next instructions were. He needed to get back to the apartment. Instead, he sat right where he was, lips pursed, holding back full-blown laughter—feeling light and happy and free for the first time in months.

  Back to the lower voice. “Kat, you always look your best. No matter what you wear. Even when you wear nothing.” Jodi gave an exaggerated wink and shook the paper, using her normal voice to say. “Seriously. That’s what it says here. That you should wink.”

  Tuck laughed out loud.

  Jodi continued. “You could wear a gunny sack and people would still swoon.” Jodi giggled so hard she bent at the waist.

  Tuck was certain most of that was made up, but God he loved watching Jodi’s performance. It was totally worth every second.

  After a fit of giggles, she wiped her eyes and then straightened the papers on her lap. “No wonder you took that gig. Your lines are so creative and riveting,” she teased.

  He was still grinning as he said, “You done?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’ll never be done. In fifty years, I’m still going to tease you about this.”

  He held her gaze for long moments as he absorbed her words. God, he sure hoped so.

  She flattened the page to her chest. “Can I keep these?”

  “Not a chance.” He bent grabbed the rest of the loose pages off her lap, shuffling them into a pile and then reaching out a hand for her to give him the ones in her hands.

  “Why not? It’s not like you’re going to use these. I’m sure your production company has spent the last few hours rewriting your script.”

  He was equally certain she was correct, but no way was he going to leave her with that pile of ammunition. He lurched forward to snatch the pile from her hands.

  She fell to the side and rolled over the papers, trapping them under her chest.

  He grabbed her by the waist.

  She wiggled forward, trying to escape him, laughing harder.

  He slid his hands up her sides and reached under her, between her breast and the cushion to get a grip on the pile.

  Jodi squirmed, causing her breast to rub against his hand.

  Tuck gripped her waist with his other hand and tickled her, making her lean that direction, which gave him the opening he needed to reach under her body. He missed the papers, however, and when she rolled back, she trapped his palm dead center on her breast.

  They both froze as she sucked in a sharp breath.

  Tuck couldn’t breathe. He also couldn’t stop himself from molding his fingers around her soft flesh and giving her breast a gentle squeeze.

  Jodi moaned, which brought him back into himself. He shouldn’t be doing this. Touching her. Teasing her. Enjoying her. He was married to a crazy woman who was suffocating him. He needed this moment. It would fuel him for the next fifteen days.

  When he came back into himself, he jerked his hand out from under her. “Sorry.”

  She rolled onto her side against the back of the loveseat, still holding the papers. The voice she used this time was husky with arousal. “I’m not.”

  He swallowed and ran a hand over his head. “I’m trying to be a decent guy here.”

  She sat up, set the papers aside, and grabbed his thighs, tipping her head back to meet his gaze. “I’m super aware that your marriage is a sham and you need to ride this out because you need the money. It’s for your mother’s bills, isn’t it?”

  He nodded, keeping his lips tight.

  “Tell me one thing, and then I won’t say a word about Cold Feet for the next two weeks until this show is over. I won’t even watch it.”

  He took a deep breath.

  She continued to stare at him. “Have you had sex with Katia since we met?”

  “Jodi, I’ve never had sex with Katia. I’ve never even willingly seen her naked.”

  Jodi blew out a breath and nodded. “That’s all I needed to know.”

  “Not to say she doesn’t try. She prances around in nearly nothing every day. I think she sees me as a challenge. I don’t think many men have ever turned her down.”

  Jodi smiled. “I’ll stop watching.”

  He exhaled. “Thank you.” He didn’t deserve her. But she was making it clear without flat out stating so that she was into him and wanted to pursue whatever they might have when his show was done. Thank God.

  He just hoped he could survive the next two weeks intact.

  Reluctantly, he removed her hands from his thighs, reached to her side, and picked up the script. He added her pile to his and stuffed everything back in the folder. He didn’t want her to have this shit. He wanted to put it behind him and never bring it up again.

  “Tucker.” The voice coming from the doorway made Tuck lift his gaze to find Jodi’s dad leaning around the corner.

  Tuck felt heat rising to his neck as if he’d been caught making out with the man’s daughter. It was an absurd response, considering the fact that he and Jodi were grown adults, and, more importantly, they hadn’t even kissed. Nevertheless, Tuck stood and rounded the coffee table.

  Bill didn’t say a word about whatever he must have heard from down the hall while he finished closing up the bar though. Instead, he winced. “Hate to tell you this, but when I shut off all the lights up front, I noticed there are several young adults in the parking lot. Maybe about a dozen with three cars. They’re surrounding your car.”

  Fuck. “Shit.”

  “Yeah. Didn’t figure that would make you too pleased. I didn’t mean to pry into your business, but I heard a little about your problems today from Liz. Seems like you could use an escape route.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Why don’t you leave your car out front and take mine from the back. Hopefully, you can drive away without being hounded by the crazed fans.”

  Tuck stared at the man, speechless. He also realized he couldn’t possibly come back here again. And that thought stabbed him in the chest. “I’m so sorry I brought this to your establishment. I shouldn’t have taken this kind of risk. I didn’t realize things would get so out of hand, or I wouldn’t have asked you to hire me. I never imagined having some social media fans who tracked me and followed me everywhere.”

  “No harm done, Son.” Bill frowned. “I’m not worried about a few kids in the parking lot. They probably wa
nt autographs.”

  Damn, he was being nice about this. He should be furious. Tuck cleared his throat. “I’ll see if I can find a buddy to fill my place here, someone with enough experience to continue investigating your problem.”

  Bill frowned again. “Why would you do that? You’ll catch the guy. I have every confidence in you.”

  “It’s not that, sir. I just don’t want to draw unwanted attention to your bar. It was thoughtless of me.”

  Bill’s face changed and he chuckled. “Tucker, there is no such thing as unwanted attention in a bar—except maybe a drug dealer. If your celebrity status brings in more customers, I call that a win. Don’t you dare quit.” He shoved off the door frame. “Take my car. See you tomorrow.” And then he walked away.

  Tuck was still staring at the empty doorway as he heard the man’s footsteps on the stairs leading to the above apartment.

  Jodi was suddenly behind him. She set her hands on his hips and pressed her body against his back. The warmth of her breath through his shirt was comforting. “He’s right. We need you here. Fifteen days. You got this.”

  Fifteen days seemed like an eternity. And then Tuck had a thought. Hell, if even half of the rumors running around were true, maybe this thing would be over long before two weeks.

  Chapter 10

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Tuck exclaimed the next morning as he paced the floor of his small apartment.

  Katia was sitting on the sofa with a smug look on her face.

  Maria Hortez, the director for Cold Feet, was sitting in an armchair. She had her legs crossed and was leaning back as casually as if they were discussing where to go to dinner. Maria shrugged. “There’s no actual proof.”

  Katia crossed her arms. “That’s right. Just because I went to visit two friends from the set yesterday doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with them. God, Tuck. I can’t believe you think so little of me. We just got married.”

  Tuck stared at Katia, blinking a few times. The woman was driving him mad. Did she not realize the cameras weren’t currently running? She didn’t have to bat her eyes and put on a performance for Maria.