Breaking Through (Book 2 of the SEAL TEAM Heartbreakers) (13 page)

The thought scared him more than the threat of being arrested. This was what he was supposed to be. Sure, he had a backup plan, but if he had a record or a dishonorable hanging over him, what the fuck kind of life could he be looking at?

He caught Hawk’s frown as he noticed Tess standing beside him. It was already too late. He’d invited her right into the heart of the team. He just hoped to hell he could show her they were all just people, living their lives. Raising their families. But they were professionals, too. Not killers.

“Come meet the ladies,” he suggested.

“Sure.”

Clara, having gone ahead of them, stepped back from giving Zoe a hug.

“Tess this is my sister, Zoe.”

“Nice to meet you.” Tess offered Zoe a nod and a smile.

“You, too.”

Brett went around the circle of eight ladies introducing the other men’s girlfriends and wives.

“I got word from the hospital this morning,” Zoe said. “I got the job.”

“I knew you would,” Brett said. He tugged her close and gave her a hug.

Zoe leaned into his side. “I start next Monday.”

“I’m sure Hawk’s pleased.”

“Yes. He was talking about how much it would cost to start my own clinic if the hospital job didn’t come through.”

“You’re not a doctor?” Tess asked.

Zoe laughed. “No. But there are times I feel as though I’ve had enough experience and education to be. I’m a physical therapist. I’ll be working with patients with debilitating injuries or amputations.”

“That sounds challenging,” Tess commented.

“It will be, but I’m up for it. It’s been a long two days waiting for the news. It was a tough interview, too.”

“I’m sure. Obviously you did well.”

“Why don’t the two of you sit down,” Clara said. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

“I’ll get them, Mom.” Brett waved her to a seat. “Orders, ladies?”

With a mental tally of everything they wanted, he wandered off to the cooler and paused at Doc’s side to slap him on the back. “What’s happening?”

“Almost through here. We’ll be eating any minute now.” Doc’s green gaze appeared more serious than his words. “NCIS was on post asking questions about you and Derrick today.”

Brett’s stomach dropped. “Shit. I was expecting it, but still.”

 “These guys really have a hard-on for you both.”

“I know.”

“What are you going to do about it, Cutter?”

“Since they’re not willing to look beyond the send of their noses, I have a plan.”

“Such as?”

“You know that phrase we hear sometimes, ‘plausible deniability?’”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this applies. The less you know, the less they can ask you when the dust settles.”

Doc’s expression grew grave. “They can’t charge you with anything if there’s no evidence, Cutter.”

“They’re going with the idea that the lack of evidence points to us having done away with the kid, Doc. I’ve done a lot of things in the line of duty, but cold blooded murder isn’t one of them.”

Doc presented a fist and they knocked knuckles.

“Who’s the legs?” Doc asked, tipping his beer in the women’s direction.

Brett grinned. “Tess Kelly. She’s a reporter for the San Diego Tribune.”

Doc stepped back and eyed him, his amazement clear. “Is she part of your plan?”

“A very small part. She’s here as my date with the understanding that this is a family barbecue and off limits to the press.”

“And you trust her?” Doc said as his brows rose.

“No, not entirely. But then she probably has bigger balls than you or I do.”

“Why’s that?”

“Would you go out with someone suspected of murder?”

Doc’s features hardened. “You haven’t been charged. You’re not going to be charged.”

If only he could be sure. “You know that itch you get between your shoulder blades when you know someone has a bead on you?”

“Yeah, I know it well. It’s saved my life more than once.”

“I’ve had that itch ever since NCIS showed up in Jackson’s office.” He slapped Doc on the back. “Got to get drinks for the ladies.” He opened the cooler and dug in to retrieve a couple of beers and several soft drinks. “Thanks for having my back, Doc.”

“Always, Bro.”

But the thought he’d just voiced to Doc set a niggling worry crawling through his gut. How far would Tess go for a story?

***

Tess stretched her legs out and crossed her ankles. She couldn’t say that the SEALs and their families weren’t capable of feeding an army, or a navy as the case might be. She’d definitely eaten far more than she needed.  They didn’t lack for social graces, either. The conversation had run the gamut from movies they’d seen to the best techniques for surfing. Something Logan and Tyler, the newest members of the SEAL team, seemed enthused about.

The two ‘new guys’ left after eating to catch a few waves before sundown.

Clara moved around the crowd taking candid shots of the men and their dates and the children. The kids hammed it up for her.

“Is your mom a photographer?”

“No, a retired school teacher. She showed up at the apartment with all that camera equipment this afternoon.” He shook his head, clearly baffled.

“If she’s just retired, maybe she’s looking to remake herself. Madonna’s done it.”

 Brett flashed her a smile. “If she starts wearing skin tight leotards with cones over her breasts, I’m calling an ambulance.”

Tess laughed. “She may be good at this. Up until now she’s probably lived her job to provide for her family. Most single parents do.”

“I guess you’re right. She shouldered all the responsibility after Dad died. And with Zoe’s condition, that wasn’t easy. After that, she helped us all with college. Then my sister with her kids.  She’s like the Pied Piper with children.”

Clara said something to Doc. Then she and the children went into his apartment.

“Told you. They’ll follow her anywhere.”

What would he do if something happened to end his career?

“What are you going to do when you retire from the teams?”

“Most of the guys go into some sort of security work because of the training. I have an engineering master’s from University of Kentucky. I’ll dust that off and go back to school and see what happens.”

An engineer. He could have made a fortune working for private corporations. “With an engineering degree, you could have worked anywhere. Why the SEALs?”

“I wanted to serve my country. Most of the officers have college degrees of some sort. Even most of the non-commissioned have college hours. We’re not just guys toting guns. There’s more to the training than that.”

She leaned back to digest everything he’d said while idly watching Zoe and Hawk’s progress around the patio as they swayed to the music. With the back of her leg completely exposed, the extent of Zoe’s injuries was open for anyone to see. Nearly half the calf muscle was gone. Scars from skin grafts patch-worked up both legs to disappear beneath her shorts. Tess flinched away from the sight.

“If she catches you looking at her with any kind of pity, she’ll verbally kick your ass,” Brett said from beside her. He shifted in his seat to stretch his long legs out.

“I wasn’t staring out of morbid curiosity. It’s just—” She swallowed to clear the knot from her throat. “She’s beautiful, and it hurts to see that marred in such a brutal way.”

“Yeah. It does.” He focused on the soft drink he’d been nursing nearly half an hour. “A drunk driver came through our subdivision. It was summer and there were kids out all over our street riding their bikes. He managed to miss all of them, until he passed out at the wheel and hit Zoe. She was all tangled up with the bike.” He flinched and closed his eyes as though the memory was still too fresh to think about “She was in the hospital for months. It took nearly a year for her to learn to walk again.”

“And the guy who hit her?”

“He was an habitual drunk driver. He got ten years, but he died of liver cancer before he served five.”

“At least he can’t hurt anyone else.”

He nodded. “There is that. She’s good now. There have been some rough patches for her. Girls being petty bitches in high school. Guys being assholes in college. She and Hawk are good together.”

Her gaze wandered to the couple. Hawk rested his chin against Zoe’s hair and she nestled against him. He spoke close against her ear and she tilted her head back to look up at him. The smile she offered him was so open, so intimate, Tess looked away.

“It’s pretty clear they’re crazy about each other,” Brett said.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“If she’d hooked up with any other guy on the team, I’d have had to step in. But Hawk’s solid.”

He was also intimidating as hell, even from a distance. He’d been cordial enough at dinner, but watchful. And he hadn’t wasted any time in steering Zoe away from her. What was he afraid of? Zoe wouldn’t know any SEAL secrets. But she had been a witness to, and a victim of, Derrick Armstrong’s meltdown.

The last vestige of sunlight dipped beneath the waves, and the evening air began to cool. Doc switched on the pool lights, and the exterior lights came on with them.

Her attention shifted to Doc’s neighbors. Carl Turner and Jeff Sizemore lounged around the pool with their girlfriends, talking with Ensign Shaker and his wife Selena. Their nine-month-old was passed around and rocked by the women while they visited.

For a moment she dwelt on the connection these people had to one another. They were like an extended family, and a support system for each other.

Despite his earlier flirtatious smiles, Bowie and his date, Angela Melzonni, seemed deep in like as they sat close together on the edge of the pool holding hands. Doc slouched in a lawn chair talking with them.

 “You seemed to know Angela well.” She tried to ignore the stab of jealousy she had no right to feel, and to sound impartial as she asked, “An old girlfriend?”

“She was one of my nurses in the hospital.”

“Oh.” The resentment she’d fed to help hold her attraction at bay dissolved.
Shit.

Chief Petty Officer Langley Marks and his wife Trish glided by in perfect rhythm. Brett set aside the soft drink, rose, and extended a hand. “Come dance with me.”

Thus far she’d managed to keep a distance between them with a running barrage of questions. He’d answered every one. But it seemed that was at an end.

She was supposed to be his date but … No, it would be okay. She was in control, as always. Besides, she wasn’t interested in getting involved with a man who would be as absent from her life as her father had been. She needed someone who would be there every day when she got home from work. Someone she could depend on when emergencies arose. Someone dependable in every way a dependable man was supposed to be.

The moment she placed her hand in his, her breathing grew unsteady. He tugged her to her feet and into his arms with an ease that had her breath catching altogether. At five foot five and a hundred and twenty pounds, she’d thought herself sturdy, but held against Brett’s six-foot frame with his broad shoulders and chest stretched before her, she felt delicate.

His hand splayed against her back, but he didn’t pull her in too close. He guided her just near enough for their bodies to brush as he led her into a slow, swaying rhythm, part seduction, part torture.

She couldn’t have sex with him. He was a source.

He was in trouble, but every time she looked into his baby blues, she just couldn’t believe him capable of cold-blooded murder.

And the more she got to know him, the more she was drawn to him.

But could she trust her instincts?

She gnawed her lower lip.

“Relax, I don’t bite,” he said, resting his cheek against her hair.

“It isn’t that. I’m more at ease in the professional realm than I am the personal one.”
Oh, shit.
Did I just admit that?

Dancing with this man was personal. She was sharing her space with him. But it didn’t feel like an invasion for him to hold her. It felt—amazing. She wanted to lean into him. He smelled like laundry soap and grill smoke, blended with the light fragrance of cologne and the underlying scent of
him.

The pressure of his hand guided her closer, and she had no choice but to relax when every muscle turned to liquid. A rush of need set afire every nerve. Her hand slid from his shoulder to rest against his chest, the muscle there evident beneath her touch. “This isn’t a good idea.” Her voice came out just above a whisper.

“We’re just dancing. What’s not good about it?” His husky voice wreaked havoc on the aching heat growing between her thighs.

What could she say when every inch of her was alive to every move he made? Had they been alone, she’d have been tempted to hook a knee around his hip and press against the growing bulge that brushed against her belly.

Oliver Shaker spoke before either of them was aware of his approach. “Call me if you need anything, Cutter.” The baby lay nestled against his shoulder asleep, her little form so relaxed her limbs looked boneless.

“Thanks, Greenback,” Brett said.

“Good night,” Selena offered, her soft voice almost carried away by the stiffening breeze.

Though Brett continued to hold Tess for several moments, the interruption had broken the spell. She pulled away and slumped back into her chair, feeling like a teenager caught necking in the back seat of a car.

This was the first time she’d gotten so twisted up over a man that she actually wanted to throw caution to the wind. Brett Weaver was dangerous.

CHAPTER 12

Yasin al-Yussuf scanned the dusty streets. Every business they passed needed repairs, their facades pockmarked by shrapnel, bullets, or age. Every home lay behind short garden walls. What little privacy the walls provided, they didn’t block the sight of peeling window facings, broken glass, and dilapidated roofs. His driver, Aban, sped through the poor neighborhood with little regard for the people walking along the roads. The rule stated, the faster the vehicle moved, the harder it was to overtake. The man took the directive very seriously. The second rule was they never took the same route to Yasin’s home. Aban could be trusted to follow that one above all others.