Book 2 - SEAL’s Honor
Elle James
also writing as
Myla Jackson
Award-winning Author
Two Navy SEALs jeopardize their lives and hearts in a battle-torn land when they vie for the love of one sexy Night Stalker helicopter pilot
Reed Tucker doesn’t believe in commitment, not when you’re a SEAL deployed in dangerous situations that could lead to death or dismemberment. Until he tangles the sheets with one hot pilot, Delaney O’Connell. His phobia against commitment is challenged when his best friend asks Delaney O’Connell to marry him and she doesn’t say no.
As a helicopter pilot for the 160th Night Stalkers, Delaney O’Connell knows the risks of loving a SEAL. She’s ferried her share of soldiers and frogmen into and out of danger. All she asks is that Tuck own up to his love for her. When he allows his friend to ask her to marry him without staking his own claim, she’s hurt and disappointed. When his friend loses an arm in battle, she can’t refuse his hand in marriage, not when he’s sacrificed so much for his country. In love with one man, about to marry another, she’s torn. Caught in a triangle of his own making, Tuck can’t dishonor his friend by stealing his fiancé.
Tuck and Delaney must come to grips with the happiness they owe themselves and the happiness of their friend who has given so much of himself.
From the Author
As a retired member of the armed forces, whose father was a career military man and whose sister and brother also served, I’d like to thank all the brave soldiers, sailors, airmen, SEALs, Coast Guard and special forces who are serving or have served and sacrificed to defend this great nation.
Please take the time to thank those who have served for their commitment and dedication to keeping us free and safe.
I’d like to dedicate this book to those who made the ultimate sacrifice of their lives and to the wounded warriors who so bravely face new challenges.
If you’ve enjoyed this story, please consider taking the time to leave a review on your favorite retail or reader review site. Authors appreciate your thoughts about the books you read and love it when you share them with others.
Enjoy!
Elle James
aka Myla Jackson
Chapter 1
Reed Tucker, Tuck to his buddies, tugged at the tie on his U.S. Navy service dress blue uniform, and his gut knotted as he entered the rehabilitation center of the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland.
He’d never run from anything, not a machine gun pinning his unit to a position, a fight where he was outnumbered, or an argument he truly believed in. But the sights, smells, and sounds inside the walls of the rehabilitation center made him want to get the hell out of the facility faster than a cat with its tail on fire.
But he couldn’t leave. Not yet. This was graduation day for Reaper, aka Cory Nipton, his best friend and former teammate on SEAL Team 10. Reaper was being released from the rehabilitation center after enduring something even tougher than BUD/s training, the twenty-four week Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training designed to weed out the true SEALs from the wannabes.
But Reaper’s release from rehab wasn’t the only event that brought Tuck there that day. He was going to a wedding. His heart twisted, his palms grew clammy, and he clutched the ring box in his left hand as regret warred with guilt, creating a vile taste in his mouth.
Reaper was marrying Delaney, the only woman Tuck had ever trusted with his heart. The only woman who’d forced him to get over his past and dare to dream of a future. She was the woman he could see himself spending the rest of his life with. And today she was promising to love, honor, and cherish his best friend—a better man than Tuck by far. A hero who’d lost his right arm because Tuck hadn’t given him sufficient cover. Cory deserved all the happiness he could get after being medically discharged out of the only family he’d ever known. The Navy SEALs.
His hand on the door to the room where the wedding was to take place, Tuck squared his shoulders and stepped into his future.
Two months earlier...
Tuck glanced to his left and right. The members of Strike Force Dragon sat or stood, tense, holding onto whatever they could as the MH-60M Black Hawk dipped into the valley between two hilltops, less than a click away from the dark, quiet village. The only thing different about this mission was that, since the one before, he’d slept with the Pilot in Command of the helicopter.
Most men knew her as Razor, the call sign they used for the only female pilot flying infiltration and extraction missions for the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SOAR), Army Captain Delaney O’Connell.
Through his NVGs he picked up the bright green signature of a lookout on top of one of the buildings.
Within seconds, shots were fired at them, tracer rounds flaring in the dark. The helicopter remained just out of range of the man’s rifle shots, but it wouldn’t be long before a Taliban machine gunner with long-range capability was alerted with the potential of lobbing rocket-propelled grenades their way.
Wasting no time, the helicopter sank to a level just above the drop zone (DZ). While it hovered the men fast-roped down.
As soon as his boots hit the ground, Tuck brought up his M4A1 in the ready position and ran toward the sniper on the rooftop, zigzagging to avoid being locked in the enemy crosshairs.
Reaper, Big Bird, Gator, Fish, and Dustman spread out to the sides and followed.
When they were in range, Reaper took a knee and employed his uncanny ability as a sharpshooter to knock off the sentry on the rooftop.
The team continued forward into the walled town, going from building to building, until they reached the one they were after. In the center of the compound, high walls surrounded one particular brick and mud structure.
Big Bird bent and cupped his hands.
Tuck planted his boot in the man’s massive paws and, with Big Bird’s help, launched himself to the top of the wall, dropping down on the other side in a crouch. Weapon pointing at the building, finger on the trigger, Tuck scanned the courtyard for potential threat. People moved past windows inside. So far, no one had stepped outside to check out the disturbance. Only a matter of time. "Clear," he said into his headset.
As Dustman topped the wall, a man emerged from the side of the structure and fired on them.
Without hesitation, Tuck fired off a silent round, downing the man with one bullet.
Dustman dropped to the ground beside him and gave him a thumbs up, taking the position by the wall so Tuck could move to the corner where the dead man lay.
As they’d discussed in the operations briefing, they only had three minutes to get into the compound, retrieve their target, and get out. Kill anyone in the way, but bring out the target alive.
Once four of the six-man team were inside the wall, they breached the doorway and entered, moving from room to room. If someone or something moved, they had only a millisecond to decide whether or not to shoot.
Tuck opened the first room. Inside, small green heat signatures glowed in his NVGs. Children sleeping on mats on the floor. He eased shut the door, jamming a wedge in the gap to keep them from getting out too soon.
He moved on to the next room. When he opened the door, a woman rose from a pallet, wearing a long black burka. When she lifted her hand like she held a gun, Tuck fired, taking her down before she could pull the trigger.
As he continued in the lead position down the narrow hallway, Tuck’s adrenaline hammered blood through his veins and honed his senses. His wits in hyper-alert status, his finger rested a hair’s breadth away from again pulling the trigger. This was the life he was made for. Defending his country, seeking out his enemies and destroying them with a swift, deadly strike. His job was risky, dangerous, and deadly.
A man emerged from a room down the hall.
Tuck’s nerves spiked. He had only a fraction of a second to identify him.
Not his target.
He pulled the trigger and nailed him with another silent round. The man slumped to the floor, his cry for help nothing more than a startled gasp.
The door he’d emerged from flew open and men bearing guns poured out.
Tuck spoke quietly into his headset. "Get down." He didn’t bother to look back. His team would follow his orders without hesitation. He dropped with them, his M4A1 in front of him, and fired at the kneecaps of the men filling the hallway.
One by one, they went down, discharging their weapons, the bullets going wide and high.
In Pashto, the language spoken by most of the population of Afghanistan and Pakistan, Tuck told them to lay down their weapons.
When one of the injured enemies sat up and took aim, Tuck fired another round, putting him out of the game.
The injured enemy soldiers threw down their guns.
"Gator, clean up out here," Tuck whispered into his mic. "Reaper and Big Bird, you’re with me."
In the lead, Tuck stepped around the fallen Taliban and entered the room in a low crouch, ducking to the right. Nothing moved. Another door led into yet another unknown space. Tuck dove into the room and rolled to the side, weapon up.
As he entered, a man with an AK47 fired off a burst of rounds that whizzed past Tuck’s ears, missing him, but not by much. The man shouted for Tuck to drop his weapon.
Tuck fired at the shooter’s chest. He fell to the ground, revealing the man he’d been protecting. Their target, the Taliban leader they’d been briefed on. He stood straight, a pistol aimed at Tuck.
Though he wanted to pull the trigger, Tuck couldn’t shoot. His mission was to bring him out alive.
His hesitation cost him. A round, fired pointblank, hit him in the chest and flung him backward to land on his ass. If not for the armor plate protecting him, he’d be a dead man. He lay still for a moment, struggling to regulate his breathing.
Reaper used the stun gun, firing off a round that hit dead on and had the man flat on his back and twitching in seconds. "You okay?" He extended his hand to help Tuck to his feet.
"Yeah." Tuck motioned to Big Bird. "Take him."
The biggest, strongest man of the team, Big Bird lifted their target and flung him over his shoulder.
Still fighting to catch his breath, Tuck led the way back to the fence. Once outside the building, he scanned his surroundings and then checked back up at the top of the roof. No signs of enemy snipers. But that didn’t mean they were in the clear. They still had to navigate their way out of town and get back to the helicopter.
Leading the way, with Gator and Fish guarding the rear, Tuck hurried back along the narrow street to the outer walls of the village where the helicopter hovered nearby, waiting for their signal.
Tuck blinked the flashlight outfitted with a red lens at the hovering aircraft and it moved in, setting down for the briefest of moments, enough to get the six-man team inside. He reached over the back of the seat to the pilot and shouted, "Go!"
The Black Hawk lurched into the air, rising up and moving forward at the same time, hurrying to gain as much altitude as possible as they disappeared into the night sky, out of enemy sight and weapons range.
Not until they were well out of reach did Tuck release the breath he’d been holding and take stock of his team and their prisoner. All of them made it out alive and intact. That’s the way he liked it. He’d been the only one who would have sustained injury if he hadn’t been equipped with armor plating.
The co-pilot handed Tuck an aviation headset and he slipped it on.
"Nine minutes, twenty-five seconds." Gunnery Sergeant Sullivan’s raspy voice sounded in Tuck’s ear. "Better, but still not fast enough."
This had been a training mission, one they’d repeated five times in the past two weeks. Someone wanted them to get it right. The team was improving, but still needed to be quieter, faster, and more aware when the mission was real. The people they’d shot tonight had only been tagged with lasers. If this mission went live, the ammunition used against them would be live rounds.
Leaning back, Tuck held up nine fingers for his team to see and understand the repercussions of wearing out their welcome in a Taliban-held village.
The men nodded. Noise from the rotors precluded talking inside the chopper. When they got back to the base at Little Creek, Virginia, they’d debrief before being dismissed for the night and hitting the club.
They’d played the same scenario five times, improving with each iteration. All six members of the team were highly skilled Navy SEALs. The cream of the crop, the most highly disciplined officers and enlisted men from the Navy.
Like Tuck, the team was tired of playing pretend. They wanted to get in and do the job. But, like most missions, they didn’t know when they would go, who their target would be, or where they’d have to go to take him out. Only time and their commanding officers would tell. Only when they were about two hours out would they get their final orders and all the details.
In the meantime, they’d be off duty until the following morning’s PT, unless orders came in that night. It happened. But if Tuck waited around his apartment for it to come about, he’d go stir-crazy. Besides, he wanted to see O’Connell and pick up where they’d left off the night before.
Back at base, Delaney O’Connell climbed out of the pilot’s seat and grabbed her flight bag. Adrenaline still thrumming through her veins, she knew going back to her apartment for the night wasn’t an option.
Her co-pilot, Lt. Mark Doggett, aka K-9, fell in step beside her. "The team’s headed to DD’s Corral for a beer and some dancing. I know you don’t usually like to hang out, but it’s been a tough week. Wanna go?"
"Sure," she said, a little too quickly. Any other time, she’d have cut him off with a quick, but polite, no. But if she went back to her apartment alone, Tuck might show up and what good would that bring? Somehow, she’d fallen off the abstinence wagon with a vengeance and she was having a hard time getting back on.
"Great." K-9 cleared his throat. "Do you need a ride?"
"No, thank you. I prefer to drive myself."
"Probably a good idea. These Navy guys work hard and play harder."
As well she knew. Tuck had played her in bed like a musician played an electric guitar, hitting every one of her chords like a master.
Her body quivered with remembered excitement, her core heating to combustible levels. Maybe going to the club was a bad idea. If Tuck was there...
She squared her shoulders. They didn’t call her Razor for nothing. She would cut him off like she’d done so many others who’d tried getting too close. And soon. Walking away from a physical relationship was a hell of a lot easier than walking away from an emotionally involved one. Delaney refused to invest her emotions in another man with an addiction to adrenaline rushes. She’d been there once and would not go there again.
Before Tuck, she’d gone two years without a man in her life. Two years since Mad Max, Captain Chase Madden, bought it on a leadership interdiction mission in Pakistan. When a Special Forces soldier had been left behind, he’d gone back into hostile territory against his commanding officer’s order. His helicopter had been shot down. Max had been injured, but was still alive until the Taliban found him and dragged him through the streets tied to the back of a truck. By the time they untied him, he’d bled out.
Delaney had been devastated. No one knew she and Mad Max had gotten engaged two weeks prior to his deployment. And no one would, if she could help it. Being a part of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment was an honor she took very seriously.
She understood her position was precarious. On more than one occasion, her CO had told her she was on probation as the only female ever entrusted with the honor of flight leader in an all-male corps. The powers that be were watching her every move. One misstep and she would be out, and she’d worked too damned hard to get here. Three years of training, and working her way up the food chain, and a rock-hard body, at least where it counted, had gotten her noticed.
Fooling around with Tuck, one of the Navy SEALs assigned to this training mission, wouldn’t go over well with her commander. But the strain of anticipation and the long bout of celibacy had taken their toll on Delaney. She’d needed a release. When Tuck and Reaper offered to help her change her flat tire, she never dreamed she’d end up in bed with one of them. But those damned SEALs with their massive biceps and quads...
Holy shit. What a mistake. And Tuck would probably think their liaison meant something.
Which it didn’t.
She didn’t need a man in her life. Not when her missions were as dangerous as they were. And a relationship with a SEAL was as dumb as it got. Her in the Army, him in the Navy. Both deployable at a moment’s notice and most likely to opposite ends of the earth. Only Kismet was what brought them together at Little Creek, Virginia, to train for a possible mission. If they deployed together, their sleeping together would only complicate matters. And she needed a clear head to complete the missions she would be responsible for flying.
Tonight, she’d tell Tuck not to expect anything. She wasn’t into commitment or the long-term relationships.
Tuck lurked in the hallway outside the ladies’ room, waiting for Delaney to emerge.
When she stepped out, he snagged her arm, pulling her into the shadows at the end of the hall and into his tight embrace.
At first stiff, as soon as she realized who it was, she semi-melted into him, her body fitting perfectly against his. "Damn it, Tuck, you scared the crap out of me." She batted his arm and stared up, her brow twisted into a tight frown. "You can’t go around grabbing me."
He grinned. "Kiss me."
"No."
"Then I’ll have to kiss you."
"What part of no—"
Almost a full foot taller than the petite, perfectly packaged helicopter pilot, Tuck bent to close the distance, sealing her mouth with his and cutting off her argument. Loving the feel of her warm, full lips against his, he clamped his arms around her and lifted, wrapping her legs around his waist and spinning her until her back was against the wall. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue past her teeth and whipping down the length of hers in a long sexy slide.
For a full fifteen seconds, she resisted, her hands pressing against his chest. Then her fingers curled into his shirt and she kissed him back. Not gently, but like she’d gone without food for a week and was hungry for him, her mouth working over his, devouring him.
God, she tasted so good, like peaches and rum. Sweet, tangy, and devilishly intoxicating.
When he broke for air, she leaned her head to the side. "I swore I wouldn’t do this again."
"Why?" Tuck trailed kisses down the line of her exposed neck. He paused at the base of her throat where her pulse thrummed like the patter of machine gun bullets—fast, furious, and adrenaline-pumping. He liked it when he made her excited.
"Whatever this is between us has to end," she insisted, even as her thighs tightened around his hips.
"Why now?" Tuck slid his hand down her arm, skimming the side of her breast. The nipple beneath her T-shirt puckered temptingly. His cock hardened in response. Where she’d been hesitant to start something physical with him, in the end, she’d flown at him like she couldn’t get enough.
He thought once would be enough with Delaney. That once had lasted all night and through not two but three orgasms. She’d come so readily, she had to have been denying herself for a very long time.
They both knew the relationship wasn’t meant to last. Not in their line of business. Members of elite forces that could be mobilized at a moment’s notice didn’t get involved. It never worked. But that shouldn’t stop them from grabbing a little physical release between deployments.
Tuck was all for physical release with no emotional ties. He told women at the start of sex it was purely physical. Don’t expect him to call or ever see her again. Some were okay with that. Some others, not so much. He’d walked away with no regrets.
Until he’d met Delaney. She’d pretty much echoed his stance on relationships. Don’t ask for more. It would not be forthcoming.
"What about Cory? The three of us have been pretty tight these past couple of days."
They’d hung out at Cory’s apartment on several occasions, drinking beer, watching sports, and scarfing down pizza. Just this morning, Cory had mentioned he could really see himself with Delaney on a regular basis. A twinge of guilt tugged at Tuck’s conscience. He’d never kept anything from Cory. He was the brother he’d never had growing up. "Cory will get over it."
"And if he finds out we’ve taken our friendship to another level?"
Tuck’s jaw tightened. "He’s a big boy. He can take it." His hand slid beneath Delaney’s shirt, rising toward her breast.
"Did you know he asked me out on a date?"
Tuck’s hand stopped short of her bra and he straightened, eyes narrowing. A stab of something intense ripped through him. He felt an odd sense of wanting to pound his chest and roar that this woman was his. But he knew that wasn’t so. "When?"
"Last night." She bent to capture his lip between her teeth, pulling on it, then sucking it into her mouth.
He drew away. "Was that the call you got while we were in your shower?" He’d just lathered her up, soap sliding over her breasts and down her belly to catch in the soft curls over her mound. Damned if he wasn’t feeling the need to shower again.
She nodded, trailing her finger from his lips down his throat to the collar of his shirt, loosening one of his buttons. "I told him I was busy."
His lips quirked upward. "With me."
"I didn’t tell him what I was busy doing."
"Doing me."
"Yeah, but we both know it can’t go on." Her head jerked up when a woman entered the hallway, headed for the bathroom. "And I don’t want anyone to know about us." Delaney worried her bottom lip as she trailed a finger along his cheek and across his lips.
Tuck loved it when she chewed on her lip. He bent to catch that lip between his teeth, tugging gently. "We can keep this our secret."
She captured his face between her palms, her brows drawing together. "No more secrets. We need to end this."
"Coward." He smoothed the hair behind her ears, then pressed a kiss to her earlobe.
"No, really." Her words were saying one thing, while her breasts rubbed against his chest, her fingers sliding over his shoulders. "We can’t keep doing this."
"We both agreed this relationship was temporary." Though he wasn’t as sure now as he had been going into it. He liked being with her more than he cared to admit.
"Yes, but..."
He kissed away her ‘but’. "And you have no intention of making our relationship permanent, as you emphatically stated the first night we made love."
"Right." She drew her finger across the top of his ear. "As did you. And what was it you said? Ah yes, when a woman gets too close, you walk away."
He nodded. The thought of walking away from Delaney sat like sour apples in the pit of his belly. What was it about this woman that made him want to break all of his self-imposed rules? He couldn’t think past the feeling of her riding him, even fully clothed. "If we’re both in agreement we won’t ask for permanency, then why end it now?"
"And if one of us changes his or her mind and wants more?"
There she went again, biting on her lip, driving him insane. His cock grew impossibly harder beneath the confines of his Levis. "We nip it in the bud." He bent to nibble her full lower lip, pressing down her hips, rubbing his crotch against the smooth silk of her panties.
"Understood." She laid her hands on his chest and pushed. "Let me down."
With more restraint than he knew he had, he gripped her arms. "Okay." For a moment he held her there, enjoying the warmth of her body against his.
"We both know that adrenaline junkies make terrible partners." Her hand remained on his chest. "And you, Tuck, are an adrenaline junkie."
He nodded. "I am. It’s kind of a requirement of the job."
"I know." She smiled up at him, her lips a little too tight. "And if we see each other anymore than we have, I might break my promise to myself."
His chest swelled at the thought that she was worried about falling for him. "And that’s a problem?"
"Yes." She pushed away and stood at arm’s length. "I refuse to give my heart to someone who could die on each mission." A shadow crossed her face, her green eyes darkening.
"Honey, nothin’s gonna happen to me. I’m freakin’ Superman." He reached out to take her back in his arms.
"And I’m not going to be your kryptonite." She moved out of reach. "Let’s just end this now. We were better off when we were only friends."
Chest tightening, Tuck realized he didn’t want to end what they’d only just started. Being friends without touching her would be impossible. Anger spiked. The urge to take her, right there in the hallway, to show her how much he cared and wanted to be with her nearly overwhelmed him, almost made him lose control. He never lost control.
Tuck schooled his face into a mask of indifference. After several deep, calming breaths, he nodded. If this was the way she wanted it, so be it. He’d let her stew in her very sexy, musky juices for a little while and see if she was singing the same tune later.
"Okay, then. It ends here." His groin tight, his jeans tighter, he lifted her, pressing her back against the wall. He brushed one last, brief kiss across her soft lips and let her feet touch the ground, though he kept her pinned to the wall for a moment longer, prolonging the torture. Then he left her standing in the hallway and returned to the bar room, searching for the second prettiest girl in attendance. He had some dancin’ to do, and maybe seeing him in action would get under one helicopter pilot’s pretty skin.
As a U.S. Army Aviation Captain of the esteemed 160th Aviation Regiment "Night Stalkers", Delaney O’Connell, could fly her MH-60 Black Hawk into Afghanistan’s Taliban-held Provinces under enemy fire without batting an eyelash, her hand firm on the controls. But when faced with creepy-crawly bugs, she squealed and went all girly on him.
And he loved it. It had taken a spider in her bathtub to get her to let him past the front door of her apartment. She’d been a tough nut to crack, refusing to be anything but friends with soldiers, sailors, and SEALs on assignment for temporary training duty with Special Operations Forces stationed at the Joint Expeditionary Base in Little Creek, Virginia.
At first, Tuck hadn’t considered dating the hotshot pilot, preferring to stick to civilian women, safe from the no-fraternization rules imposed by his command and the U.S. Military. Safe, too, because when he left, transferred, deployed, or otherwise moved on, they stayed behind. His commitment was never to a woman, but to his team.
Until Delaney.
Oh, he’d still take a bullet for any one of his brothers at arms, but lately he’d had difficulty seeing himself leaving Delaney behind. And if the current TDY was any indication, as part of the joint task force, they’d trained together and would deploy together should they be called to do so.
The thought of Delaney deploying still left him feeling strange. Knowing she’d fearlessly fly into enemy-held territory didn’t sit well with the protector in him. What if she was shot down? They were all members of the U.S. military, sworn to serve and protect their great nation. As a man born and raised on a west Texas ranch, Tuck had learned to respect women, treat them well, and protect them from harm. How could he do that if she was flying straight into hell?
As his grandmother always told him, don’t borrow trouble.
Hopefully, the joint task force wouldn’t be called up anytime soon. SEAL Team 10 had been deployed a couple times to various missions in the Middle East without the assistance of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment squadron. And as much as he would miss Delaney on that kind of mission, he hadn’t been distracted with worry over her.
Which was ridiculous. He’d told her from the start, anything he felt for her would be purely physical.
He’d been wrong.
And now, instead of him backing out of the relationship as was his modus operandi, she was calling it all off. Normally, that suited him fine. But this was Delaney, and she’d managed to sneak under his protective barrier, somewhere between pizza, football, and night training missions.
He glanced back as she slipped into the semi-darkness of DD’s Corral, the country western nightclub frequented most by members of the units conducting joint training exercises in the Little Creek-Ft Story area for the past two months.
His member straining against the fly of his jeans, Tuck edged toward the dance floor, making his way through the crowd of men and women in civilian clothing, just as one of his favorite Tim McGraw songs struck up the first chords on the juke box.
An Army guy stood and swayed in front of Delaney. "Hey, honey, wanna dance with me?" His voice carried loud and clear as the song hit a lull in the melody.
Tuck’s fists clenched and he took a step toward the two.
"Not interested." Delaney tried to get around the man.
Again, he stepped in front of her. "Ah, c’mon. Just one dance."
The man next to him jabbed an elbow in his friend’s gut. "Watch out, that’s Razor, the one I told you about."
"Razor, is it? You’re pretty for a razor. Tell ya what, I’ll bring the shaving cream, and, darlin’, you can shave me any day."
Her eyes narrowed. "Still not interested." She ducked around him and moved on. Before the army guy could catch up, she grabbed the biggest Navy SEAL on Team 10, Benjamin Sjodin, and headed for the dance floor.
Nicknamed Big Bird, the SEAL was the largest and youngest member of their team and as graceful as his Sesame Street namesake. Still, Delaney painstakingly set out to teach the man how to two-step. A farm boy from Indiana, he’d been nicknamed Big Bird because he walked like an ostrich, all lanky, jerky and unnatural, but he got the job done. Not so much on the dance floor. He stumbled and stepped on Delaney’s feet and his freckles glowed every time he blushed.
"O’Connell might have the reputation of being a razor, but she also has the patience of a saint." Cory Nipton, aka Reaper, grinned. "That’s the fifth time Big Bird stomped her foot. I’m keeping count."
"He has the grace of a bull in a tutu. Whatcha drinkin’?" Tuck sat on a barstool beside his friend.
Reaper lifted his bottle of Guinness and swished the liquid inside. "I’m good for now."
Tuck wasn’t. He ordered another Bud from the tap, waited for the bartender to slap the mug on the counter, then took a long swallow. He needed the liquid encouragement before launching himself out into the sea of women looking for a little fun on the dance floor.
Before Delaney, he’d enjoyed dancing with just about any woman willing to put up with his less-than-stellar two-step. Since Delaney, he found himself comparing every woman to her. They didn’t fit right against his body, the perfumes they wore weren’t as enticing as the fresh scent of Delaney’s skin. They didn’t laugh like she did at his crude jokes or point out when he was being an ass. If he was honest with himself, Delaney had ruined him for other women and that went against his promise to himself to remain unhitched, unattached, and single for the duration of his military career…if not longer.
Tuck’s only experience with marriage was when his mother had run out on his father and left him to deal with the old man’s foul-tempered upbringing.
Not like he wanted to marry Delaney now. But he would like their relationship to last at least one more night. Maybe two. She fit him like a glove. A warm, wet glove he could drive himself into again and again.
F*ck. He’d never be able to dance if he had a hard on. He took another swallow of his beer before again facing the dance floor, scanning for a pretty woman to partner with. Maybe she’d make Delaney rethink her desire to call an end to their crazy, mad lovemaking that never should have happened in the first place. But now that it had, he wanted it to happen again.
He took in the ladies sitting at the tables, smiling and laughing, touching their hair and generally trying to appeal to the bar’s male population in hope of enticing one to dance.
There was a blond with pretty hair. After a closer look, Tuck shook his head. She smiled with a big toothy grin, like she was trying too hard. The brunette beside her was passable, but she laughed too loud and often. No. He couldn’t do that to himself.
One after another, he ruled out the women seated around the dance floor, his gaze shifting back to Delaney.
She laughed up at Big Bird, the musical sound hitting Tuck square in the chest.
He jumped up from his seat.
"Where ya goin’?" Reaper asked.
"Gonna find me a woman." He stalked toward the pretty redhead at the end of the bar. "Wanna dance?"
"Sure." She grinned, slid off her seat, and stood on leopard-patterned stilettos that matched her leopard, skin-tight skirt.
Yeah, she’d do. Without waiting for her to get her bearings, Tuck grabbed her hand and wove through the tables to the hardwood dance floor. He turned and spun her into his arms, executing a perfect two-step.
Thankfully, she was graceful enough to keep up as he whisked her around, passing Delaney who struggled to keep her feet from being crunched under Big Bird’s size thirteens.
When she glanced across at him, he made a point to smile down at his partner for the first time and laugh, though the redhead hadn’t said a thing.
The woman he was dancing with cleared her throat to get his attention. "Don’t you want to know my name?"
Not really. He gritted his teeth. "What is it?"
"Lisa." Another few steps in the dance and she raised her brows. "And your name?"
"Tuck."
Big Bird chose that moment to dip Delaney, nearly dropping her on the floor.
Tuck lurched toward them, stepping on Lisa’s foot in the process.
"Ouch." Lisa leaned on his arm and limped for a moment on her injured foot.
"Sorry." He held her steady until she’d wiggled her toes and nodded.
"I’m okay."
Big Bird pulled Delaney back up in his arms and hugged her.
His jaw tightened. The caveman in him wanted to stomp across the floor, throw Delaney over his shoulder, and take her back to his cave where he’d make her his. Damn the woman for getting under his skin.
Lisa, her brow puckered, stopped in the middle of the floor, pulling Tuck to a halt. "I get it."
"You get what?" he asked, impatient for the delay when Delaney and Big Bird moved to the other end of the floor.
She planted a hand on her hip. "You’re trying to make someone jealous, aren’t you?"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Her lips twisted and she jerked her head toward Delaney. "It’s her, isn’t it? You were with her in the hallway by the bathrooms a minute ago, wasn’t it?" Lisa stepped back. "Thank you for the dance, but I’ll find someone else more interested in me." She walked away like a model, strutting her stuff in her leopard stilettos and mini skirt.
Her exit left Tuck standing in the middle of the dance floor, looking like a fool. Heat rose up his neck into his cheeks and he made his way back to the bar to retrieve his beer.
Reaper laughed and slapped his back. "What did you say to piss her off?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, come on, she didn’t leave you high and dry for nothing."
"She didn’t want to dance with me. Can you leave it at that?" Tuck tossed the last of his beer to the back of his throat, thinking it was time for him to leave.
"Man, you’ve got a bug up your butt tonight." Reaper grinned and took a swig from his mug, then nodded toward Delaney. "What do you think about me and O’Connell?"
Tuck choked, nearly spewing out the beer he’d been in the process of swallowing. "You and Del—O’Connell?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Her call sign is Razor for a reason." Didn’t he know it? She’d cut him off like an unwanted appendage. Tuck’s pride still smarted from her brush off. Never mind he’d always been the one to leave the woman behind.
"She’s not that cutthroat, just with men who get too fresh."
"What brought this on?" Tuck demanded. "I thought you two were just friends."
"Hell, we’ve known her for the past couple months. And since she’s been hanging out with us, I’ve gotten to know her even better." A smile played on his lips. "I think she’s a keeper."
"She’s not a fish."
Reaper chuckled. "I know. What I’m getting at is that I think it’s time to take it to the next step."
"Next step? Like dating?"
"No. I got to thinking. You and me, we’re not getting any younger."
"So?"
"We never really know when our next mission will be our last."
"Don’t be so fatalistic," Tuck grumbled and stared at his beer.
"It’s true. We could be dead tomorrow, and what would we have to show for it? Who would give a rat’s ass?"
"Your point?"
Reaper turned and held out a ring box. "I’m marrying that girl."
Tuck schooled his face to show no emotion, while inside he reeled. "Don’t you think a date should be the next step? Aren’t you missing the important part about getting to know her?" he asked, when he wanted to shout, No! She’s mine! Even though she’d just ended it with him.
"We’re already close. All those nights we spent together, drinking beer, talking, watching football. We know what each other likes on our pizza."
"That’s no reason to get married."
"She likes beer, she watches football, knows me, and finishes my sentences."
"Because you talk too slow."
Reaper stared across the dance floor at Delaney and went on as if Tuck hadn’t spoken. "She’s everything I ever wanted in a wife. Tough, smart, beautiful, and she can fly a helicopter like nobody’s business. Man, she’s got it all."
He had a lot of good points. Delaney was all those things and more. She liked pepperoni pizza and her favorite position was—ah hell. Tuck had to tell Reaper he was crazy to even consider asking her. She wasn’t interested in him or getting married.
And if she were to marry anyone, the man would be him. Damn it! She’s taken! he yelled inside. But the truth was, she was free to marry anyone she liked. Not that she would. She’d told him just as emphatically as he’d told her that she had no intention of ever getting married. "It’s too soon. You barely know her. You haven’t even kissed her." Tuck frowned. "Have you?"
Reaper grinned. "Not yet, but I can wait. And I want the first time to be special. The main thing is that I want to grab her up before someone else does."
"She’s not the last cupcake at the party. And, Reaper, there’s something you should know." He took a deep breath before continuing. He wasn’t a man who’d kiss and tell, but staying silent while his buddy launched a campaign to woo the woman Tuck had slept with just wasn’t right.
Before he could go on, Reaper responded. "I know she’s not a cupcake, but I’m betting she’s as sweet. You and I both know she’s special."
Tuck stared at Delaney as she tripped over Big Bird’s big feet and laughed to make him feel better about his clumsiness. "She’s special, all right. And she’s also t—"
Reaper wasn’t listening. "We could ship out tomorrow and she would never know how I feel." He was in his own world, talking through his reasoning for rushing into something with Delaney. "I’m telling her I love her tonight."
"I wouldn’t."
"Why? Don’t tell me the confirmed bachelor is in love with her too?" Reaper laughed. "That’ll be the day."
"No, Reaper, really, there’s something you need to know about O’Connell." And me. What could he tell his friend? That he’d already staked a claim? He’d been with Delaney and she’d nixed any claim by telling him the liaison was over before it had barely started. No, Reaper fancied himself in love with Delaney, and he was willing to risk everything to make her his.
The song chose that moment to end, and Big Bird led Delaney back to the bar. She smiled and laughed, her gaze going to Tuck and then sliding to the woman in the leopard skirt sitting at the end of the bar. Delaney’s brows rose, her mouth tightening.
Tuck clamped his mouth shut, refusing to show any emotion.
Delaney’s eyes narrowed.
Reaper grabbed the box from Tuck and hopped down from his stool. "Tonight’s the night."
Tuck snagged Reaper’s arm and whispered, "Ask her on a date, tell her how you feel, but don’t ask her to marry you until you know where she stands."
"I’ve made up my mind." Reaper stuffed the ring in his pocket and squared his shoulders. "Wish me luck."
Tuck ground his jaw. "Reaper, don’t—"
Reaper strode toward Delaney, stopped directly in her path, and dropped to one knee.
Tuck started after Reaper, wondering how his friend had gotten this carried away in such a short time.
Looking from Reaper to Tuck, Delaney frowned, then her gaze swung back to the man on bended knee.
Tuck wanted to slap his palm to his forehead and would have, if it would do any good. Reaper was on his own mission and nothing would stop him.
Reaper held out the ring box and announced loud enough for all to hear, "Delaney O’Connell, I love you. Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"
Her cheeks bloomed with color and she bit her bottom lip. "Cory...I..." Wide-eyed, she glanced at Tuck for help. "I...good Lord, I barely know you."
Reaper smiled up at her with his gotta-love-this-surfer boy good looks and a pleading expression on his face. "I’ve known you long enough to know you’re the one for me. Why waste time, when none of us know how long we have on this earth?"
"True." Delaney bit her bottom lip. "But—" She glanced again at Tuck with a help me look in her eyes.
Tuck moved toward the two as others gathered around, shouting and patting Reaper’s back, waiting for Delaney’s response. Not that she’d say yes, but even the chance that she could made Tuck’s gut knot.
"Cory, I like you, and I think you’ll make someone a great husband. But—"
He raised his hand. "Sweetheart, even if you don’t say yes right now...please, don’t say no until I have had the chance to prove to you I’m serious."
Delaney’s cell phone rang, giving her the excuse she needed to avoid an immediate answer. She glanced down. "It’s my CO. I have to take this."
Reaper nodded, waiting patiently, his smile in place, happy and ready to face a future with Delaney.
Delaney hit the talk button. "O’Connell." She listened, nodding though the speaker couldn’t see her. At last, she spoke. "Yes, sir. Zero-five-thirty in the morning. I’ll be there ready to punch out. You too, sir." She hit the end button and stared across at Tuck and then down at Reaper. "I’m moving out in the morning."
"What?" Reaper rose to his feet. "You can’t leave. Not yet. You haven’t answered my question. What about us?"
"It’ll have to wait," she said. "Duty calls."
Reaper gathered Delaney’s hands in his. "You can’t leave me like this. I need to know."
With relief making his muscles a bit jittery, Tuck stepped up beside his friend. "Save the heartache, Reaper. She’s not interested in a relationship."
Delaney’s brows puckered, her gaze narrowing. She squeezed Cory’s hands and smiled. "I’ll tell you what, Cory, let me think about it. When I get back from deployment, if you still feel the same, I’ll give you an answer. Right now, I need to go."
"Fair enough. " He jumped to his feet. "I can drop you at your townhouse."
"That’s okay. I drove myself. You guys don’t have to leave. Stay, have a drink for me. I’ll let you know my answer when I see you again."
"Wait." He snagged her hand, stopping her from making a quick escape. With a gentle smile, he brushed the hair from her cheek. "Won’t you at least give me a kiss goodbye?"
Irritation shot through Tuck. "Reaper, she’s not—"
Delaney shot a stony glance at Tuck, leaned up on her toes, and brushed a kiss across Reaper’s lips.
A cheer went up from the men standing around them.
Tuck balled his fists, his back teeth grinding together as Delaney dodged past him without saying a word and ran from the club into the night. He stood for a moment wondering what had just happened. When it hit him, he groaned. His best friend had just asked the girl he’d slept with the night before to marry him. And she hadn’t said no. Not only had she not declined the proposal, she’d kissed Reaper in front of their team.
What the f*ck? Why didn’t she tell him no? She’d told Tuck she wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship. For most, his parents excluded, marriage meant a lifetime commitment. Until death and all that. "I gotta go," Tuck said.
"Now where are you going? The woman I love just ran out on me. I could use a designated driver to get me home safely."
Tuck grabbed Big Bird. "Make sure Reaper gets back to base all right, will ya?"
Big Bird draped a ham hock of an arm over Reaper’s shoulders. "Yes, sir."
"Sober." Tuck jabbed a finger in Big Bird’s solid wall of a muscular chest. "You’re to drive sober."
"No shit, LT. I got this."
"I might as well leave," Reaper said. "Now that O’Connell’s gone, I don’t feel much like partying."
"Then stay to humor Big Bird. He’s got to practice the two-step O’Connell taught him."
Reaper glared at Tuck. "I’m not dancin’ with him."
"No, but you can find a girl that will. Use that surfer boy charm of yours."
"I don’t surf."
"You know that, and I know that, but they don’t." He nodded toward the women seated in groups around the club. "When you tell these girls you’re from San Diego, they’ll be impressed and might take pity on Big Bird for you. Help out the poor guy. I’m out of here."
"Traitor." Reaper turned away. "Go on. You need your beauty sleep and Big Bird needs a girl. I’ll get him one, then I’m right behind you."
Tuck walked to the exit and, once outside, sprinted to his truck. Too late to stop Delaney, because the taillights of her Jeep disappeared around the corner at the end of the block.
Traitor. The word resonated in Tuck’s conscience. His guilty conscience. If he hadn’t sat like a damned fool while Reaper talked about Delaney, the man might not have proposed, and Delaney wouldn’t have kissed him.
The night was not supposed to end this way. By now, he and Delaney should have been burning up the sheets. Instead, Delaney would be packing to ship out, with an outstanding proposal on her mind from another man.
Damn. Delaney is shipping out.
He’d gotten used to having her around. More nights than not, they were together. Either at his apartment or hers. With her leaving in the morning, she’d be up packing into the early hours. He had to see her one more time. Apologize for not stopping Reaper and for letting him propose in front of their entire team. There was no good way to back out of what had happened. Reaper would lose face and take a boatload of razzing from the team. Tuck would look like a heel to his friends and the camaraderie would suffer if any of them found out he’d been sleeping with Delaney when his best buddy wanted to marry her.
First things first. He had to see Delaney before she shoved off.
He drove like a madman to beat her back to her place, parked in an alley, and jogged up to her building before she pulled into the parking lot.
Hooking her purse over her arm, she climbed out of her Jeep and turned to the staircase leading up to her apartment.
Tuck stepped out of the shadows.
Delaney jumped and stifled a scream that turned into a string of curses. "Goddamn SEALs. You’re like snakes, lurking in the grass waiting to pounce." She stepped around him.
Tuck grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. "Snakes don’t pounce."
"Okay, slither." She slapped his chest. "How could you let Cory go that far?"
"He didn’t give me a chance to talk him out of the proposal."
"What am I supposed to do now?" She pulled free and stalked up the stairs, stopped, and glared back at him. "He asked me to marry him in front of your entire team."
"It wasn’t all of them." Tuck followed at a safe pace. In her mood, she might push him down the flight of steps. And damned if he didn’t deserve it. "You could have said no."
"What I hate is that I love Reaper," she said before turning toward her door.
"You what?" He took the steps between them two at a time and caught up with her as she shoved her key into the lock. "You love Reaper?" She’d never told him she loved him, much less Reaper.
"Of course I do." She rolled her eyes. "Like a brother."
"And me?" Tuck thumped his chest, anger burning a hole in it.
The starch melted out of her stance and she sighed. "You know how I feel about you."
No, he didn’t. He smoothed a hair behind her ear, his hand drifting down the side of her neck, over her collarbone to trail across one breast. "Like a brother?"
"I’m not into incest." She sighed, caught his wrist, and held him there, her eyes closing as she pressed her breast into his palm. "Does that answer your question?" Her voice had gone all husky and sexy like when they were making love. Then her eyes opened and she stared, challenging him, sparks flying between them.
Tuck took her key from her, twisted it in the lock, shoved her through the door, and slammed it behind them with his foot. Then he tossed her over his shoulder and marched toward her bedroom.
"Put me down, Tuck. I’m not a sack of potatoes." She pounded his back with the flat of her palm.
He patted her fanny. "I know you’re not a sack of potatoes. But this was the quickest way I knew to get you into bed." Once inside her bedroom, he tipped her over and tossed her onto the mattress.
She lay in the middle, skirt hiked up to her hips. "You could have tried asking."
Shit. Even her frown was sexy.
"What time did you say you’re bugging out?" He yanked his shirt over his head and threw it against the wall.
Delaney licked her lips, her gaze raking over his naked chest. "Five thirty. I have to be at my unit, packed and ready to go."
His cock hardened in an instant. "How much time do you need to pack?"
"At least an hour."
With the barest of glances at the clock on her nightstand, Tuck ripped open his button fly and shucked his jeans. "It’s midnight. That gives us four hours. Let’s rock this boat."
Delaney’s hand hesitated on the hem of her shirt. "What about Cory?"
Tuck grabbed her foot, and slipped the strap of her sandal off her heel, then flung it to the floor. "I’m not into ménages."
She pulled her shirt over her head, her breasts bobbing with her movements. "But he may still think I’ll say yes."
"Will you?"
"He makes good husband material for a girl interested in that kind of commitment."
Tuck growled, advancing on her. "I seem to recall you telling me you didn’t care about commitment. In fact, you gave me the brush off on more than one occasion."
Her lips twisted, then slid upward in a smile. "I did, didn’t I? And see how much good it did?"
He placed a hand on her leg, his fingers skimming up the insides of her thighs to the hem of her skirt. "Our relationship is purely physical."
"It won’t last." Her breathing hitched as he skimmed his hand across her damp panties. "No...it...won’t...laaast." She bit down on her lip, her knees parting to give him better access.
"With you leaving tomorrow, we don’t have much time left in our short-term relationship."
She shook her head, her chest rising sharply on a gasp as he flicked her favorite spot again. "Then stop wasting time."
One last, teasing stroke, then Tuck ripped the zipper down on her skirt and tugged it over her hips and thighs and off her legs.
Delaney lay on the sheets in her underwear, biting her lower lip, her hand sliding into her panties. "God, I’m wet."
Those words made him want to rip off her panties and drive into her, hard and fast. A thin swatch of silk was all that stood between him and doing just that. But he wouldn’t let their last night together be all about him. He wanted her to be just as turned on as he was at that moment. More so, if he did it right.
He couldn’t believe he’d gotten this far with Delaney, and thanked his lucky stars he had.
When other members of his team had hit on her, she’d shut them down in a heartbeat, earning a reputation for being frigid and unapproachable by most. But when Delaney was alone with him, she was as wild in bed as she was in the cockpit of her Black Hawk. She knew exactly what to say and do to make him hard enough to drive nails with his dick. He lunged for the nightstand and the stash of protection she kept there.
"Losing it, frogman?" With her thumb, she hooked the elastic of her panties and slid them just far enough down until the soft curls of her mound peeked out. For a moment she held them there as if challenging him. Then she slipped off the panties and rolled onto her belly, her legs dangling over the side of the bed. "Three hours and fifty-eight minutes."
He fumbled the packet and dropped it on the floor. "Damn it, Del, you drive me insane."
She glanced over her shoulder, her brows hiking and a smile lifting the corners of her lips. "Insane with lust, I hope?"
"You know it." He ripped the retrieved package with his teeth, rolled the condom over his rock-hard erection and let go of the breath he’d been holding. "Let’s shake this boat."
"Bring it." She arched her back, her damp entrance glistening in the light shining in from the other room.
Tuck grabbed her hips and positioned himself behind her, his member nudging her slick opening, then waited. "Promise me you’ll come back." He didn’t add what they both knew was on their minds. Come back alive. Not in a box.
"Oh, please." She leaned back, trying to make their connection more intimate.
He pulled away. "Promise."
"I promise to do the best I can. But if you deploy, too, you have to make the same promise."
"I promise to do the best I can."
"Deal. Now are you f*cking me, or should I start that packing I need to do? Three hours and fifty-five minutes, frogman."
He thrust into her, long and hard. Her channel clenched around him, dragging him deeper. Hands on her hips, he pumped in and out of her, smacking her buttocks for the loud clapping sound she so loved.
"Damn it, Tucker. Harder!" She rocked back, their combined motion forcing the bed to rock on its legs.
When he thought he was getting close, he slowed, bending over her back to cup her breasts, tweaking the nipples.
"Holy hell, Tuck, don’t stop now."
"I want you with me." His hand slipped down to her sex, parting the folds to find the swollen little strip of her *. He rubbed it, eased himself out, coated his finger in their juices, and slammed back into her, then slathered the moisture on the nubbin of her desire.
Her breath caught, her body tensed and her fingers curled into the comforter. "Now. I’m coming now." Her voice hitched as her body arched and her head tipped back.
Tuck gave her a moment to ride the first wave of her orgasm. Then he backed out of her, scooted her up the bed, and climbed between her legs, sliding back in to take her. He wanted to see the way her green eyes darkened as she came apart.
Smooth, strong, athletic legs wrapped around Tuck’s waist and Delaney dug her heels into his ass, forcing him as deep as he could get. The pressure erupted in an explosion of sensations that spread in waves outward from his cock to the tips of his extremities. He stayed buried inside of her, his dick throbbing his release. When he could draw in a new breath, he collapsed on the bed beside her, rolling her over to face him, maintaining the connection.
As they lay in each other’s arms, Tuck stroked the swell of her breast, bringing the nipple to a hard little peak. He wanted to say it. The "L" word perched on the tip of his tongue. He bit down to keep from letting it slip out. Passion was one thing. Love was entirely different. What was it he felt for Delaney? He wasn’t sure, but his own track record with that elusive emotion hadn’t given him much hope of finding it. Still...Delaney had come the closest. "Del, you know how I feel about you, don’t you?"
She sighed, snuggling her face against his chest. "Umm. You think I’m hot in bed, and that I’m a good helicopter pilot."
He snorted softly. "More than that."
Her eyes opened and stared up into his, a smile playing at her lips. "What more does a woman want?"
"What with Reaper asking you to marry him..."
After a long pause, she said, "I’m not getting married anytime soon."
"And I’m not a good candidate for the institution."
She leaned up on her elbow and stared downward. "Tuck, you can’t judge yourself by your parents’ lack of commitment."
"Yeah, and what’s your excuse for avoiding tying the knot with some poor schmuck?"
Her eyes darkened. "I have my reasons."
Reasons she hadn’t wanted to share. A jab of anger pinched his chest and he stiffened. He wanted to demand she tell him why she was against marriage. She knew his rationale. Why didn’t she trust him with hers?
"I’m leaving tomorrow." Her hand smoothed across his chest. "Don’t be mad now."
Delaney was right. He didn’t want her to leave angry at him for pushing an issue that shouldn’t be an issue at all. They weren’t committing to each other, so why should he care if she didn’t tell him her reasons for avoiding marriage? "Fair enough. Just know this. Despite my feelings on long-term commitment, I care. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you."
"And accepting Cory’s proposal would be bad?"
Tuck let out a sigh. "Reaper’s a good man and he’d love you to his dying day. But he’s not the man for you." He stroked his finger along her arm, letting it trail over the side of her breast. "You wouldn’t be with me now if you thought you had a chance to make things work with Reaper, would you?"
"No." She dropped her gaze.
"Then why string him along?"
"You have a point. And you care." Her hand slipped down his chest to his cock. "Why don’t you show me how much you care, big guy?"
"Before I do, what are you going to tell Reaper?"
"Nothing until I get back from deployment."
"You’ll let him suffer that long?"
"You didn’t tell him about us." She gripped his cock and slid her hand to the base, relenting. "Maybe by the time I get back, he’ll be in love with someone else."
Reaper did have a reputation for rushing into things before thinking about them. If Tuck hadn’t been so immersed in keeping his relationship with Delaney a secret, he’d have seen it coming. "I should have made our relationship more public."
"No." She shook her head. "It’s hard enough maintaining a tough-gal persona in front of my peers. Most of the men in my regiment resent me being there."
He’d been just as hesitant to let on that they’d been together. Problem was that he’d had such a deep distrust of women from a very young age. Delaney was the first woman he’d ever told about his crappy family life. Perhaps because the three of them had started out as friends, he hadn’t wanted to reveal how far past friendship they’d progressed, afraid if he committed to their relationship, it would fall apart. Like his parents’ had.
Delaney sighed, her hand rising to cup his face. "Look, I know you have issues with marriage and commitment. And it’s understandable, given your family. But not all marriages end in divorce."
"You’re saying my father, who’s been married three times, and my mother, going on her fifth husband, isn’t normal?" He laughed without humor. "Why Cory would be idiot enough to propose is beyond me. Aren’t there studies to prove more than fifty-percent of marriages end in divorce?"
"That gives people a fifty-fifty chance of it working." She shook her head. "Sometimes you have to take chances. Sometimes they pay off."
"Or get you killed."
Delaney laid against the curve of Tuck’s body, committing to memory the male, musky scent of their lovemaking, the feel of his hard muscles against her softer ones, and the way his breath warmed the back of her neck.
Four o’clock in the morning and she hadn’t slept a wink, preferring to savor every last moment with Tuck. She hadn’t packed, hadn’t notified her landlord, hadn’t done anything to prepare for her deployment.
She was headed to Afghanistan. Not that she was borrowing trouble, but she might not come back. As a member of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, she’d be flying into enemy territory to deposit and pick up the Special Operations forces, be they Army, Navy SEALs, or marines, on some of the most dangerous and highly classified missions imaginable. The chances of being shot down by the Taliban were high.
Meanwhile, her heart would be back in Virginia with Tuck.
She’d known from the start that Tuck had commitment issues given his family background plus he was a Navy SEAL first, anything else came second. Including her. But sometimes she dreamed of hearing him say those three words she’d longed to hear.
I love you.
Three of the most powerful words in the English language dictionary, as far as Delaney was concerned. As she headed into the warzone, she’d have to content herself with the knowledge Tuck cared about her. Possibly loved her, but wasn’t willing to admit it and jinx their bond.
Delaney had committed one of the ultimate mistakes she’d told herself she’d never do. Falling in love with a man in the military. Now it was too late. There was no going back. Her heart belonged to Tuck.
Cory and Tuck fell into formation on the pavement outside the Ops tent where their commander worked. Gunny called them to attention, then performed an about-face to hand off to Skipper, Commander Raymond Janek.
The man stood like a tree, six-feet, four inches of hard muscle. He stayed as fit as any of the younger SEALs standing before him, and demanded no less from his team than he did of himself.
Without preamble, Skipper announced, "We’re headed to the sandbox. Report with your deployment bags here at Zero-five-thirty in the morning. That gives you exactly twenty-two hours to shit, shower, shave, and pack. I suggest you get to it. Am I clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" The team yelled in unison.
"Dismissed."
The team fell out and ran for their vehicles.
"Nothing like buggin’ out on short notice," Cory said as he jogged alongside Tuck toward his vintage ‘67 Mustang. "It’s probably just as well. I’d hate to be stuck here, coolin’ my heels waiting for O’Connell to get back with her answer." He stopped beside his Mustang. "I don’t know. I’m thinking she might say no." He shook his head. "You think she could love a man like me?"
"I know she loves you. Question is like what?"
"What do you mean like what?"
"Does she love you like a lover, a brother, or a friend?" Hell, Tuck knew, but why burst the guy’s bubble now?
Cory’s brows dove together. "What did she tell you?"
"I heard what you heard. She’ll think about it." That still angered him. She could have come right out and said no.
Cory exhaled a long breath as he pulled out his keys and jammed them into the lock. "I hope that’s a good thing. Means she wants to think about it. I hope by the time we get back from the desert, she’ll say yes. As it is, I don’t know if I can wait that long."
"Guess you’ll have to."
"She give any clue as to where she’s headed?"
"You know this stuff is classified." Tuck glanced at a spot over Cory’s shoulder.
"Yeah. But I was hoping she’d trust us enough to tell us, or scuttlebutt would get back to someone on the team."
"I wouldn’t ask. No sense puttin’ her in the position."
"You’re right. Guess you’re the better man. I’d have asked, if she hadn’t run out so fast. And she didn’t answer her cell phone later. Lord knows I tried to call her ten times."
A wash of guilt tightened Tuck’s chest. Her phone had been in the kitchen, the ringtone specific to Cory ringing several times.
They’d ignored it.
Tuck had a fifteen-minute drive to get back to his house. He made it in ten, grabbed the bag containing his deployment gear, extra uniforms, boots, undergarments, and toiletries that he kept stowed in his hall closet. After a quick look around, he left everything as is. The less anyone knew about his movements, the better. He didn’t know where in the sandbox he was going or how long he’d be gone.
He hoped and prayed he’d be close to wherever Delaney had deployed. Only made sense for those who trained together to deploy together.
The call came in a week after she and her unit had boots on the ground at Camp Leatherneck. Her crew, consisting of her co-pilot and two door gunner crew chiefs, was called into the Tactical Operations Center, where TOP SECRET maps, photos, and intel lined the walls. Briefed on where they were headed and the number of people who’d be along for the ride, they were given the weather conditions, personnel movements, coordinates of their pick up and drop off, the number of men they would be carrying from the pickup point, and the amount of fuel they would be taking. The rest was on a need-to-know basis. Delaney was the Pilot in Command, or PC.
Delaney checked her flight bag for her HGU-56/P flight helmet, NVGs, maps marked with the roads and landmarks she could expect, and her electronic kneeboard, the Air Warrior EDM Tablet with data downloaded. She carried the memory card to be uploaded into the aircraft’s radios and GPS. All data could easily be destroyed in the case of a crash, or if the aircraft was compromised. She threw in a bottle of water and stepped out of the ops center onto the flight line where her Black Hawk MH-60M stood. After a thorough inspection of the exterior and verification of the fuel levels, she climbed aboard, slipped on the helmet, downloaded the memory card, and began her checks on the interior controls.
Her copilot, Lieutenant K-9, settled in beside her and helped her complete the pre-flight inspection and checklist.
"Mac, Jones, ready?" Delaney spoke into her mic.
"Mac, ready," the senior of the two door gunners, Sergeant McKenzie, responded first.
"Jones, ready," Specialist Jones echoed.
Delaney fired up the rotors, and soon they were on their way to their first coordinate, a tiny patch of earth on the desert landscape in the southern province of Kandahar where she’d pick up six men and take them to the second coordinate. Enemy fire was possible at the first coordinate, and expected at the second.
Saving her adrenaline rush for the second leg of the journey, Delaney focused on the rendezvous with the team she’d transport.
The landing went without a hitch. The team, which appeared to be Navy SEALs, many of them bearded with scraggly hair, hopped aboard, wasting no time on the ground. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch, her thoughts, for a brief moment, bouncing back to Little Creek and Tuck. She wished he was there. After only a week, she missed him so much she physically hurt. Once the team was aboard, she took off, pulling her thoughts back in line with the mission at hand. She didn’t have time to reminisce and couldn’t afford to lose focus.
Dusk claimed the sun as it dipped behind the mountain range to the west. Darkness would settle over the desert before they arrived at the second coordinate. As they took off, the team lead stepped up behind her with a topographical map of the area. He’d switched his helmet for a headset and stuck out his hand. "Lt. Reed Tucker, US Navy SEAL."