Night with a Seal (Hot SEALs #1) (11 page)

Darci thought for a second. “All right. That actually sounds like a perfect morning. And it will leave Rick to tend to his friends and their hangovers all by himself. If I stay I know I’ll end up cleaning the God awful mess he’ll make in the kitchen when he cooks breakfast for them all.”

“Good. It’s a deal.” Ali raised her glass to Darci’s. “To our girls’ day tomorrow.”

“To girls’ day.” Darci clinked and downed the rest of her champagne. “I need a refill before midnight.”

Ali watched her friend head toward the bar, before she visually searched the room for Jon. She found him standing off on the side, listening to some story Chris was telling to the group.

Jon’s stare caught hers. She held it for longer than was proper for accidental eye contact. Feeling her cheeks heat, she yanked her gaze away.

“Holy shit. Look at the time. It’s almost midnight.” Rick’s announcement pulled Ali out of wallowing in her embarrassment.

She glanced at the screen on the muted television and saw the countdown had begun. The numbers on the screen said it was thirty seconds to midnight.

“I’m ready to toast to the end of this shitty year.” Thom raised his glass.

“Your divorce. My knee surgery. I’m right there with you, man. It was a shit year.” Rick held up his own short glass of liquor and Ali realized all the guys had abandoned drinking beer and settled on just the hard stuff.

“We’re all on the right side of the dirt, aren’t we?” Chris asked. He raised his glass to Thom and then to Rick. “Divorce and knee surgery aside, we’re all standing here together, safe and whole. If this was a shit year, I hope next year is just as shitty.”

“Amen to that.” Darci’s soft declaration came from closer to Ali than she’d expected.

Unexpectedly choked up at the words and the meaning behind them, Ali turned and clinked her glass to Darci’s. “Amen.”

The giant numbers had continued flashing on the television during Chris’s speech until the guests echoed the countdown aloud.

“. . . three, two, one.” The room resonated with a deep, loud, “Happy New Year” that could only be produced by a team of men used to working together. She laughed when she got a look at the coordinated toast made by the circle of guys, shoulder to shoulder, glasses raised high as they all met in the middle.

Then the moment passed. The circle broke and there was back slapping and hand shakes for everyone.

Chris broke off from the revelry and made a beeline for Darci.

“I’m not getting screwed out of a New Year’s kiss.” He tipped his head toward the guys. “They’re all too ugly, so it’s gotta be you, darlin’.”

Grinning wide, Chris reeled in Darci with one arm, dipped her deep and gave her a kiss worthy of one of those corny old black and white movies.

Ali watched, wide-eyed, from not a foot away. There was quite a lot of intrigue surrounding her. If she wasn’t mistaken, Chris liked Darci, while Darci was interested in Zane. And Zane apparently wanted any girl in his phone willing to text him back for a booty call. It all felt very high school, especially when Ali’s own crush stepped into her line of vision and her heart began to pound like she was a teenager again.

Jon put his glass down on the counter. “Happy New Year.”

She turned to fully face him. “Happy New Year.”

Not sure exactly what to do—shake his hand, kiss him on the cheek, kiss him on the lips—she waited for him to make the first move. And oh, boy, did he make one hell of a move as he palmed her face, leaned in and crashed his lips against hers.

Jon planted one hell of a kiss, dead on her mouth, while she stood there with a glass in one hand and uncertain what to do with the other. As the kiss went on for far longer than a peck, she reached blindly for him and looped the fingers of her free hand into his waistband.

Drawing in a breath through his nose, Jon moved one leg forward to nestle his thigh between hers. Pressing closer, he thrust his tongue between her lips.

She felt ridiculous still holding her glass, but couldn’t see to put it down. It didn’t matter anyway. The sounds in the room permeated the private bubble Jon’s kiss put her in and reminded her they were by no means alone. Feeling the erection pressing against her, she wished they were alone. But the taste of the scotch he’d been drinking was a reminder that unlike in July, tonight Jon wasn’t sober.

He’d been polite and pleasant but definitely aloof all night, but now, many drinks later, he was all over her. There was nothing like some straight alcohol to make a man horny.

Ali pulled back, breaking the kiss as her mind spun for something to say.

Jon took a step back and dropped his hold on her. “I’m sorry. That was . . .”

“The holiday? The scotch? The fact you’re happy to be home and alive.” She smiled. “Really, Jon, it’s all right.”

He laughed and shook his head. “
Inappropriate
was the word I was going for, but yeah, the rest of those all apply too.”

She waited. For him to ask her out. For him to suggest they go somewhere more private. For basically anything.

Jon hooked a thumb toward Rick’s bedroom door. “I’m gonna go hit the head.”

That was the last thing she’d expected, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“What the hell was with that kiss?” Darci’s voice brought her around before Jon had even cleared the doorway.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Ali’s brows shot high.

Darci flicked one wrist. “That’s just Chris being Chris, but Jon and you? Oh my God—”

Ali held up her hand to stop Darci. “Relax. That was the result of too much scotch.” She blew out a breath and looked around at all the remaining men in the room. “I’ve about had enough of the testosterone overload tonight. You ready to go soon?”

Darci’s gaze cut to Zane, deep into texting someone. “Yeah. Definitely. Just let me throw some things in a bag. Be back in a minute.”

“Sounds good.” Ali nodded.

The sooner the better.

It was easy to forget when Jon’s hotness was nearby and pressed against her, but Ali suspected things would go one of two ways and neither was good. She could have another fling and then spend the next months waiting and wondering if she’d ever hear from him again, or they could get involved more seriously. Then she’d have to live with all the secrecy, and his disappearing with no notice to travel who knew where to do God only knows what.

Ali knew the deal. Yes, Jon was back stateside, but that was just a change of address. If Rick’s time with the unit was any example, Jon would mysteriously disappear for days or weeks at a time and come home with unexplained injuries, gunshot wounds included, only to say they were from a training accident.

He’d lie about where he was going and why. He’d be vague about how long he’d be gone. All because of a job that would always come first. Before his family. Definitely before a girlfriend, if that was even what Jon wanted Ali to be.

More likely was that Jon wanted a casual thing. Maybe that was smart, given his life. Then again, maybe he was just a man who’d take it anywhere he could get it, just like Zane appeared to be.

Jon came back into the room. His eyes cut to her before he turned toward the guys who’d settled on the sofa. Things looked like they were winding down a bit. Ali put her glass down and moved into the kitchen. She figured she could get a jump on washing the glasses and gathering up the trash so when Darci was ready they could leave the guys on their own with a clear conscious and only the leftover food—if there was any—to be put away.

The sooner she was away from the man who attracted her like he had his own gravitational pull, the better.

CHAPTER 11

“Damn, that was good.” With a full belly, Jon lay on the sofa like a slug, barely rallying the energy to raise the coffee cup to his mouth. He might be unsatisfied in the sexual department, but he sure as hell wasn’t lacking in food.

Rick grinned. “Well, you really can’t screw up bacon and scrambled eggs, but thank you much.”

“No?” Zane let out a snort. “The chow hall somehow manages to.”

There was a chorus of grunts from the men as testament to that truth.

Jon, Brody and Chris lounged in their underwear, while Zane and Thom, who were temporarily sans barracks accommodations and still had their travel bags in their vehicles, wore PT shorts.

As the weather girl bounced across the screen on the television in front of a map showing the United States, Jon angled his head toward Rick.

“So what’s your plans for today?” Jon eyed the mess in the kitchen, part a remainder from the party last night, part from this morning’s cooking. “Besides cleaning up, I mean.”

Rick shrugged. “Nothing much. I’ve got work tomorrow so I figured I’d just kick back today.”

“I’m going to try to call the wicked witch—I mean the ex-wife—and see if I can see the kids even though it’s not my scheduled day. She probably won’t let me, but it’s worth a try.”

Chris blew out a breath. “Damn, Thom. That’s tough. I’m sorry.”

“My own fault. She was a bitch when I got her pregnant and married her, so how can I be surprised she’s one now?” Thom shrugged.

That reality check put a damper on Jon’s mood. Making a relationship work was tough enough. This life made it close to impossible.

Speaking of relationships and women . . . another memory began to emerge from the haze of last night, besides his ill-advised mini-make-out session with Ali at midnight. Jon swiveled his head toward Zane. “Hey, you ever get any responses to your booty texts last night?”

Every man in the room looked to Zane for a response. He frowned. “I don’t know. Where’s my phone?” He glanced around until he finally zeroed in on his pants. They were on the floor next to the sofa where he’d slept. Reaching down, he snagged them and felt in the pockets, pulling out a cell. He hit a button and let out a groan. “Mother fucker. Three texts. Dammit!”

Jon chuckled. “Oh well. You were in no shape to drive anywhere or fuck anyone last night anyway.”

Brody let out a laugh. “Who are you kidding? He would have had her pick him up.”

“Hell, the lucky lady probably would have offered to pay a cab to come get him. For a sex god like Zane Alexander, just returned from six months away, nothing is too much.” Chris grinned.

“And I assure you, drunk or sober, I can always fuck.” Zane delivered that declaration with a raise of his coffee mug.

“Hey, guys. Look at this.” Rick reached for the remote control on the coffee table and raised the volume on the television as a breaking news bulletin came on.

Video of a passenger plane on a runway filled the screen. Emergency vehicles, kept at a safe distance, surrounded the aircraft.

A broadcaster off-screen explained the situation, but Jon didn’t need to listen. The headline at the bottom of the screen told him all he needed to know.

Hostage Situation in Ethiopia

With a sigh, he pulled his feet off the ottoman and planted them on the floor. “Oh, well. That day off was fun while it lasted. Thanks for everything, Rick.”

“Fuck.” Zane hoisted himself off the sofa.

Thom groaned. “Frigging New Year’s Day? Couldn’t these bastards have chosen January second instead?”

As Chris and Brody stood, Chris reached for his jeans and laughed. “Y’all are gonna have a fun day.”

While buttoning his jeans, Brody frowned at the jumble of boots and sneakers littering the floor, no doubt searching for his. “We gotta get home quick so I can get cleaned up before we get called in. I’m not fixin’ to go into a mission needing a shower and with my mouth tasting like ass.”

“I hear ya.” Jon had come to the party not intending to stay the night. He needed to get back to his house to brush his own teeth and shower before the inevitable recall came. Heading into the kitchen, Jon put his coffee mug in the sink with the rest of the dirty dishes. “Sorry we can’t stick around to help you clean up.”

Rick’s brow rose. “Yeah, I’m sure. You guys go home and do what you gotta do. And the homeless among you are welcome to use the two bathrooms here. There should be towels in both showers.”

“Thanks.” Thom nodded.

“Appreciate it, dude.” Zane headed for one doorway while Thom aimed for the other.

After pulling on his shoes, Jon paused by the front door to glance back. “I’ll see you guys very soon, I’m sure. And thanks again, Rick. Tell your sister I said thanks too.”