Gun Shy

Gun Shy

A
SEALs at the Ready
Story

By Emma Hillman

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Gun Shy
Copyright © 2012 Emma Hillman
Edited by Michele Paulin and Juli Simonson
Cover art by Les Byerley,
www.les3photo8.com

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-462-8

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: January 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

To Katie Blu and Simone Anderson,
for the conversation that started it all…

Prologue

“Guess who forgot to pay the electricity bill before we left?”

Drew let his bag drop in the middle of the hallway and blew out a breath. “It was your turn!”

Scott, his fellow SEAL and roommate, shook his head at the usual response. He squinted in the semi-darkness as he tried to decipher the notices that had been waiting for them. Another black letter return, he groaned inwardly, already bemoaning the lack of hot water. He’d been looking forward to a steaming hot shower for days, ever since they’d had to dive into the frigid waters of the Caspian Sea. “Fuck! They shut off both the gas and the electricity.”

“Nice. Welcome back, soldier.” Drew saluted him as he picked up his bag again and turned toward the staircase.

“We need to do something about this. Seriously, man.”

“We just got here!”

“I know,” Scott growled back. “But we can’t keep doing this. Every time we come back from a mission, something’s gone wrong.”

“What? You’d prefer living on-base?”

They both shivered at the thought of the gray barracks waiting for them there. No, thank you! “I like this house, I do. But we need to come up with another plan, because live and let live isn’t cutting it any longer.”

“I’ll think of something,” Drew promised. “Right now, I want a shower.”

“No hot water, remember?” he called out as his friend took the steps two-by-two.

A loud “Fuck!” rang through the house.

Scott smirked. With some luck, that’d get Drew to move. Nothing motivated a diver more than to have no water.

* * * *

“Someone else? You’re breaking up with me?”

Scott bit back a curse then thought better of it and flipped his friend off. “Someone has to be responsible.”

“You’re responsible enough for the two of us, bro.” Drew leaned back in his favorite leather armchair, his beer bottle precariously plopped onto his stomach.

“We need someone else here. Someone who won’t be leaving on mission with only a few hours’ notice.”

“But there are no extra rooms.”

“Sure, there are. You can move all the gym equipment to the garage.”

“That’s harsh, man. Harsh. If you think I’ll change my routine for another man, you’re dead wrong. No one’s touching my babies.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “What about a woman then?”

“Oh, no.” Drew jerked to a sitting position, his palm slipping around his beer just before it would have ended up all over him. “We agreed years ago. No woman is allowed in here. Ever!”

“That’s what we need though.”

“I know you’re tired of your own hand, man, but go get laid and it’ll pass.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah. But seriously, Scott, no women. They screw everything up. You know that.”

“What about someone we wouldn’t be attracted to? She could take care of all the stuff you hate. You know, paying bills, gardening, cleaning…”

“Screw cleaning,” Drew added emphatically.

“See my point, man?”

“I see it. I see it. I don’t have to be happy with it though.”

“Tough. I still think it’s our best solution.”

“Damn.” Drew kicked his legs over the chair’s arm and leaned down until he could stare at the ceiling. For once, he noticed the cobwebs strung everywhere. They’d always been there, and he usually didn’t care. After all, if he cared it’d mean he’d have to do something about them. He and Scott had divided the chores around the house, but between their
Platoon-1
training and the various missions that took them all over the world, they barely had enough time to relax as it was. The last thing he wanted to do when he came home was dust the place! Still, his friend’s plan made sense.
Shit.

 “Okay then,” he finally said. “But we choose the plainest, dorkiest girl we can find. No bombshell, no bimbo.”

“No one we would ever fuck.”

“Exactly!”

“You’re on.”

They clanked bottles and congratulated themselves on a job well done. They had a plan of action, and a tight one at that.

When Drew sat back down, he was smiling.
No more fucking cleaning!

* * * *

Scott leaned back against the front door and watched his friend wave goodbye to the latest SEAL bunny that had applied to be their new housemate. He was pretty sure Drew had accepted the woman’s phone number, probably planning a hot session under the sheets the next time they came back from mission.

He couldn’t hate on his friend. The woman had turned up for their meeting wearing a barely there skirt and an even shorter top. They’d spent the past twenty minutes watching her unrestrained tits bounce under her shirt every time she moved. And boy, did she move a lot.

He exhaled and rubbed his bristly jaw. So far, the only women who’d answered their ad had been far too tempting. Even if he didn’t like some of them, he knew living with them would prove problematic. If his dick did the thinking for him, he knew he’d be on them in a nanosecond. He might be a SEAL, but that happened from time to time. Sex was a potent stress relief.

A car turned into their drive, narrowly missing the bunny’s headlights. He winced as tires screeched, but luckily, moments later, one car was on its way while the other was parked in front of the house.

Here we go again
, he thought with an unhappy sigh.

Drew came to a stand beside him, and they both watched the car door open and one female leg pop out. Well, he assumed it was female. It was swathed in a heavy black material which turned out to be a shapeless skirt. The woman who appeared was perfect. Perfectly homely, that is.

She had blonde hair and blue eyes, her face devoid of makeup and rendering her almost translucent. She might have a shape, but it was impossible to guess at it, with the billowing black sweater topping that awful skirt. She wore sensible shoes, the kind elderly women wore to play bingo.

“Who’s that?” Drew whispered.

“That’d be the English teacher. The one who left that voicemail yesterday?”

“She’s fucking perfect!”

He grunted his assent and waited for the woman to stop in front for them before introducing himself.

A faint smile curved her lips as she took his hand. “Hello. I’m Kristyn. I’m here in answer to your ad?”

“Come on in.” He gestured her inside and listened as Drew introduced himself and started talking about the house. He watched her from behind as he followed them to the living room. She didn’t have a single bounce to her step. Her hips didn’t sway. She walked like an asexual person if there was such a thing.
Well fuck
, he thought.
I think we’ve finally found her.

As minutes passed and they asked her question after question, the feeling only intensified. She loved gardening. She was an English teacher so she’d have no problem dealing with their bills or anything else administrative that needed to be done. She took one look at the cobwebs and decided she’d clean the whole house from top to bottom as her first step.

She was everything they’d wanted. He stared at his friend and nodded.

“When can you move in?”

Kris forced herself to remain immobile and not show any emotions. “I’m in a short-term rental right now so I can move out of there whenever I want. What about…this weekend?”

She watched as they looked at each other and seemed to talk without a word being said. Maybe it was the whole SEAL thing, but it was freaky how attuned they were. The dark-haired one, Scott he’d said his name was, leaned forward and replied, “That’s perfect. Will you need help with furniture and stuff?”

“No. No. I don’t have any, just suitcases. Hmm, does that mean I’ve got the room?”

The other man laughed. “Sure, sweetheart. You’re exactly what we were looking for.”

His friend elbowed him, making her wonder what she was missing. There was a certain undercurrent at work here, but she was too ecstatic to pay it attention. She’d done it!

She’d found a place to stay where the rent would be low enough for her to have some money left over from her salary. She’d have financial security for the first time in her life. And all she had to do was to clean the house and make sure everything was ticking along, something she could do in her sleep.

She was so happy she let herself go for a second and beamed at them. They both stared at her as if they’d seen a ghost. She forced the smile back to where it came from and stood up. “Thank you so much. I promise I’ll do a very good job.”

“We hope you’ll like living here, Kristyn.”

“I’m sure I will.” And she truly believed her words. They both seemed nice enough. She just had to ignore what they looked like. After all she was a new woman now. She was a junior high teacher, a responsible, even boring woman. Nothing could take that away from her, not her past or the way they looked in form-fitting jeans.

No! Ignore them. Treat them as brothers.
Yes, that was it. She’d imagine they were the big brothers she never had.
Perfect.

Pleased with herself, she hooked her purse over her shoulder and asked for a tour of the house.

Chapter One

Weeks later, Kristyn was busy getting dinner ready when she turned the volume louder on her iPod. Her head nodding in time with the music she danced around the kitchen, her hair bouncing every time she moved. She loved that song!

She started singing along, her voice carrying through the rest of the house as she added some more chopped basil to the tomato sauce. “I want to get beside you so I can be your backseat driver!”

She shook her hips, her bare feet soundless on the tiled floor. Opening the fridge, she bent down and peeked inside. “Backseat! La la la laaaa.”

Ketchup in hand she closed the door, whirled around…and screamed.