SEALs Honor (3 page)

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.

Fuck.
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."