Okay.
She tried to mask her confusion, but failed. “Thanks? So are you?”
The brunette laughed heartily. “Sorry, I just realized how creepy that sounded. But you really are pretty. You’ve got great eyes.”
O. Kay.
Mia snuck a peek at Miranda’s left hand and instantly spotted the wedding ring, which made the entire conversation even more baffling. She didn’t get the sense that Miranda was hitting on her, but women didn’t normally tell other women that they were pretty and had “great eyes”.
Did they?
Jeez, maybe she really was out of touch with the world.
“Anyway, let’s go around back quick-fast so I can show you what I’d like to do in the yard,” Miranda said, seemingly oblivious to Mia’s train of thought. “Oh, and my husband should be home around noon, so don’t be startled if a big, scruffy guy shows up. And you might also see—”
When Miranda stopped abruptly, Mia raised her eyebrows. “I might also see…?”
After a beat, the brunette shrugged, a strange expression in her eyes. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
All right, there was something weird about this entire situation. Mia had no clue what it was, but she couldn’t fight the feeling that she was being…being what? Duped? Hit on? Lured into a sexual encounter with a hot brunette while her husband watched?
Stop being paranoid. They hired you to garden for them.
The reminder was only about ninety percent reassuring.
The other ten percent maintained that a lesbian seduction in front of Miranda’s “big, scruffy” husband wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.
Clearly this was going to be an interesting day.
After a long morning of underwater demolition training that had commenced at four a.m., Jackson was dying to leave the base. He’d changed out of his scuba gear and into his street clothes in record time, and was just about to march out of the locker room when his commanding officer stepped inside.
Lieutenant Commander Thomas Becker was as intimidating now as he’d been when Jackson first laid eyes on him three years ago. Built like an action star, the man had close-cropped brown hair and a pair of intense eyes that never failed to make a guy feel like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then again, when it came to Jackson and his teammates, Beck was probably right to remain eternally suspicious. He’d had to bail them out of more than one jam since they’d been assigned to his team.
“Hold up,” Becker barked, jabbing a finger at Jackson.
Jackson experienced a flicker of unease, until he realized Beck wasn’t singling him out—Seth, Dylan and Cash were also on the visual radar, and the four men exchanged a wary look as their CO crossed his arms over his bulky chest and scowled at each of them.
“I just wanted to give you the heads-up that we’ve got Team Eight coming in next week,” Becker announced.
“What for?” Dylan asked.
Jackson shared his teammate’s curiosity. It was rare for the West Coast SEAL teams to interact with the East Coast teams.
“Special Operations wants us to conduct some joint training missions,” Becker replied. “I’ll let you know the details when I’ve got ’em, but just be prepared to run a few ops with some new faces. They’ll be staying in the barracks here, so none of you boneheads get any ideas about letting them crash at your places.”
Seth hooted. “Are you ordering us to deny our fellow servicemen hospitality?”
Becker glared at him. “They don’t need your kind of hospitality, smartass. And from what I’ve heard, Team Eight is the East Coast equivalent of you troublemakers, so don’t go inviting them to your swinging parties or whatnot.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“How dare you,” Seth said in mock outrage. “I am a married man, sir.”
“Swinging parties?” Cash echoed. “None of us are swingers.”
“Trust me, I’ve got enough lovers to deal with at home,” Dylan spoke up wryly.
Their CO just scowled again. “I mean it. No partying with Team Eight. I’m not in the mood to bail anyone out of jail again. Understood?”
“Understood,” they chorused.
After Becker stalked out of the room, Seth turned to the others and grinned. “Let’s throw the Eighters a welcome orgy.”
“Pass,” Dylan answered. “Claire and Aidan would kill me if I touched anyone else.”
“So would Jen,” Cash said ruefully.
Seth sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Bad idea. Miranda would kick my ass.”
Jackson stayed quiet, and experienced an odd pang of regret about it. He didn’t have a lovely lady—or in Dylan’s case, a lovely lady and a hot dude—getting all possessive over him. It bummed him out a little.
“Damn, I can’t wait to get home and sleep,” Dylan announced as the four men strode out of the locker room.