SEAL My Love: A SEAL Brotherhood Novel Read online

  SEAL My Love

  A SEAL Brotherhood Novel

  Sharon Hamilton

  Sharon Hamilton’s Book List

  SEAL Brotherhood Series

  SEAL Encounter (Prequel Novella)

  Accidental SEAL (Book 1)

  SEAL Endeavor (Novella)

  Fallen SEAL Legacy (Book 2)

  SEAL Under Covers (Book 3)

  SEAL The Deal (Book 4)

  Cruisin’ For A SEAL (Book 5)

  SEAL My Destiny (Book 6)

  SEAL Of My Heart (Book 7)

  SEAL My Love (Book 9)

  SEAL Brotherhood Box Set 1 (Accidental SEAL & Prequel)

  SEAL Brotherhood Box Set 2 (Fallen SEAL & Prequel)

  Ultimate SEAL Collection Vol. 1 (Books 1-4 + 2 Prequels)

  Ultimate SEAL Collection Vol. 2 (Books 5-7)

  Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3 Series

  SEAL’s Promise (Book 1)

  SEAL My Home (Book 2)

  SEAL’s Code (Book 3)

  Big Bad Boys Bundle (Books 1-3 of Bad Boys)

  Band of Bachelors Series

  Lucas (Book 1)

  Alex (Book 2)

  Jake (Book 3)

  Jake 2 (Book 4)

  Band of Bachelors Bundle (Books 1-4)

  True Blue SEALs Series

  True Navy Blue (prequel to Zak)

  Zak (Includes novella above)

  Nashville SEAL Series

  Nashville SEAL (Book 1)

  Nashville SEAL: Jameson (Books 1 & 2 combined)

  Fredo Series

  Fredo’s Secret (novella) Book 1

  Fredo’s Dream (Books 1 & 2 combined)

  Standalone Novellas

  SEAL You In My Dreams (Magnolias and Moonshine)

  SEAL Of Time (Trident Legacy)

  Kindle Worlds

  SEAL’s Goal: The Beautiful Game

  Love Me Tender, Love You Hard

  Paradise Series

  Paradise: In Search of Love

  Sleeper SEALs

  Bachelor SEAL

  Bone Frog Brotherhood Series

  New Years SEAL Dream

  Fall From Grace Series (Paranormal)

  Gideon: Heavenly Fall

  Golden Vampires of Tuscany Series (Paranormal)

  Honeymoon Bite (Book 1)

  Mortal Bite (Book 2)

  The Guardians (Paranormal)

  Heavenly Lover (Book 1)

  Underworld Lover (Book 2)

  Underworld Queen (Book 3)

  About the Book

  A continuation of SEAL My Love novella, which appeared in the anthology Tropical Tryst.

  Navy SEAL Trace Bennett has recovered from injuries he sustained while rescuing Gretchen’s daughter, Clover, from kidnappers. The man who “wouldn’t let go” finds himself now tied to the single mom of three girls, by strings of duty, honor and, to be perfectly honest, lust. He’s killed bad guys all over the world, and rescued his share of innocents, but he isn’t sure that properly qualifies him for fatherhood.

  Gretchen has opened her heart one more time to a man she did not expect to fall for. But she’s determined this will be the last time. She’s dusted off her mating skills and tried to melt the ice she feels in her veins towards men in general. Formerly married to a famous NBA star who cheated on her publically, she’s only got room in her life for one more chance at love. Her primary mission is to raise her three daughters and whatever else she gets for herself comes second. Dating a man who has failed at marriage isn’t a great start to her new quest, but she holds her nose and jumps in feet first.

  Their rocky road to redemption will bring them more pain than they ever imagined, and more happiness than either of them feel they deserve.

  Begin Reading

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Series Overview

  Table of Contents

  Copyright © 2018 by Sharon Hamilton

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. In many cases, liberties and intentional inaccuracies have been taken with rank, description of duties, locations and aspects of the SEAL community.

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Author’s Note

  I always dedicate my SEAL Brotherhood books to the brave men and women who defend our shores and keep us safe. Without their sacrifice—and that of their families, because a warrior’s fight always includes his or her family—I wouldn’t have the freedom and opportunity to make a living writing these stories. They sometimes pay the ultimate price so we can debate, argue, go have coffee with friends, raise our children, and see them have children of their own.

  One of my favorite tributes to warriors resides on many memorials, including one I saw honoring the fallen of WWII on an island in the Pacific:

  “When you go home

  Tell them of us, and say

  For your tomorrow,

  We gave our today.”

  These are my stories created out of my own imagination. Anything that is inaccurately portrayed is either my mistake or done intentionally to disguise something I might have heard over a beer or in the corner of one of the hangouts along the Coronado Strand.

  In the interest of full disclosure, portions of this book were briefly featured in a multi-author anthology no longer available, titled Tropical Tryst. The portions that appeared previously have been substantially updated, added to, and re-edited to reflect new story choices and changes.

  I support two main charities. Navy SEAL/UDT Museum operates in Ft. Pierce, Florida. Please learn about this wonderful museum, all run by active and former SEALs and their friends and families, and who rely on public support, not that of the U.S. Government.

  www.navysealmuseum.org

  I also support Wounded Warriors, who tirelessly bring together the warrior as well as the family members who are just learning to deal with their soldier’s condition and have nowhere to turn. It is a long path to becoming well, but I’ve seen first-hand what this organization does for its warriors and the families who love them. Please give what your heart tells you is right. If you cannot give, volunteer at one of the many service centers all over the United States. Get involved. Do something meaningful for someone who gave so much of themselves, to families who have paid the price for your freedom. You’ll find a family there unlike any other on the planet.

  www.woundedwarriorproject.org

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Sharon Hamilton’s Book List

  About the Book

  Copyright Page

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

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sp; Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Series Overview

  Reviews

  SEAL Prayer

  Chapter 1

  Navy SEAL Trace Bennett sat down on one of the benches at Gunny’s Gym, picked up a thirty pound barbell, and started his reps, focusing on a straight back and neck so he didn’t pay for it later tonight. He’d been told it was mandatory to do daily PT when they were between deployments. Unless he wanted to do a cool ten-mile run or a swim in the inlet, it was Gunny’s, and a great place to get to know some of the other guys. Since the Team had just come back from a short mission to Baja California, they weren’t likely to be sent out again for several months, unless something flared up. And that happened a lot lately.

  Being the newest member of Kyle Lansdowne’s squad on SEAL Team 3, his transfer from Team 8 had been hastened by a messy divorce and a bad write-up on his interim evaluation. He’d told his LPO that he just needed a change of scenery.

  “Lansdowne runs a tight ship. They watch for cracks. You wanna stay in as a SEAL, you better not have one,” said Sr. Chief Masterson.

  That had brought a smile to his lips.

  Masterson barked back at him. “Fuckin’ pervert! I didn’t mean your butt crack, Bennett. I mean your head’s gotta be right, but I’m with most my peers in this. If you can’t fuck, you can’t fight. So I guess I should feel grateful you at least have a sense of humor and a dirty mind. That’s a good sign.”

  “Yessir.” He stifled his snicker and gave him a sigh instead. “I just need a break with all the—shit that went down.”

  He almost allowed himself to talk like a woman. Who the fuck blames memories for a lack of future? Certainly not any warrior from the Brotherhood.

  But it had been part of the reason. The fact that Shayla took up with another Team Guy on Team 4 didn’t help things at all. It was a hell of a thing to come back from deployment and find someone else in your brand new king-sized bed that hit your credit card while you were sleeping in a sandy cave overseas.

  So here he was, pumping iron and trying to fit in. Except that the guys on Kyle’s team looked like they were right out of high school. At thirty-four years of age, he’d winced when they’d called him “Grandpa.” He was part of an exclusive club. Only ten other guys on Team 3 were over thirty.

  Well, he planned to show them he could probably bench press more than anyone and had taken probably a thousand more HALO jumps in his career. He would make it to fifteen years, two years from now. Then he’d see if he had the stones to stay in a full twenty, although sitting behind a desk never really appealed to him. Older guys who became too senior didn’t do the active deployments. Right about ten years, most of them started moving on to something else, if they didn’t do it at six.

  But one thing defined Trace; he was stubborn. He’d leave on his own terms, as long as his body didn’t give out on him. Every jump had his LPOs holding their breath, even though he felt fine. They’d give a younger guy time to heal if something happened. Not a thirteen-year man. And it gnawed at him that some might consider him fragile. He wanted to bust something up.

  Just in time, Team 3’s tall medic, Calvin Cooper, entered with a short ugly dude they called Fredo. They were about as opposite as friends could be, but word had it that they were tighter than the ass on a chipmunk. Fredo kind of looked like a small furry creature himself, with his unibrow and a wide, flat nose like an Ewok. These guys were seniors, he was told. He should show them the respect they deserved. They had a few years less service, but they were well-thought-of, and if they liked you, you were in with the rest of the squad.

  “Hey, Gramps. You take your Metamucil this morning?” the shorter one asked him. Fredo’s accent was all LA barrio.

  “No time. I was doing the tat artist, and she took her time with me, too.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Coop. He’d received intel Coop had been sweet on the little lady with tits the size of balloons. He’d let her do the frog prints up his right arm, like all the rest of the guys on Kyle’s team. He pleasantly recalled how Daisy liked to smooth those knotted nipples against his bicep, and it softened his irritation at Fredo’s jab about his age. So he focused on the medic.

  Coop didn’t react, but Trace could almost hear the cracking of granite inside the tall SEAL’s chest. So Trace had to rub it in and displayed his arm, still with the plastic wrap attached, showing off his new, reddened frog print tattoo.

  Fredo swore in Spanish. “He’s a clown, this one. Coop, we’re gonna have to watch out for him.” Coop still said nothing. Fredo continued, “Besides, you’re a fuckin’ liar. She wouldn’t want anything to do with the likes of you. She’s got herself a homicide detective who brings his own cuffs. Right, Coop?”

  “That’s right. I still got the scars,” Coop said, fingering his wrist.

  Trace stood up so they could see he was nearly as tall as Coop, who was the tallest man on the squad. “You’re right, fellas. She only gave me a blowjob.”

  Coop smirked and still didn’t rise to the bait. Fredo did it for him.

  “You gotta dirty mouth, Bennett. You better hope you pack your own chute from now on.”

  Trace ignored the comment and continued his workout. He vowed to find a training buddy, or they’d assign him to someone who would be annoying.

  “I’ll spot you if you trust me,” Coop said in his soft Midwest drawl.

  Trace thought about it for a minute and nodded, rolled on his back and under the bar he’d set at one hundred pounds. He gripped the cool metal and extended.

  “Hold it right there for ten seconds,” yelled Coop.

  Trace was fine until the slow count of twelve, but he wouldn’t give up. Coop waited until thirteen to say ten, and Trace lowered the bar. Coop took it from him and set it gently on the bar catcher.

  “That was a nice one, Trace. You’re one strong motherfucker,” said Coop.

  “Guess you won’t be calling me ‘grandpa’ again, then?” Trace said as he lifted the bar a second time, holding it straight-armed to a genuine ten-count, and brought it back down, where Coop rested it.

  “That’s a function of age, not strength. But hell, if you got it, you’ll earn your spot here fair and square,” added Fredo.

  The beautiful Thai owner of Gunny’s Gym, Amornpan, wafted back into the room, a faint scent of jasmine trailing behind her and mixing with the stink of rusty metal and hot sweat.

  “Hello, fellas. You got a new guy with you?” she asked brightly.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Trace said as he sat up. “I’m Trace Bennett. On Kyle’s squad.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to tell me that.” She slapped her forearm to show she’d noticed his tat. She put her glasses on and started working on the computer. “I’ll have some paperwork for you when you’re done, Mr. Bennett,” she added without looking at him.

  They went through several routines, and the three of them worked together nicely. Afterward, Fredo poured cold water on a towel and wore it like a hoodie. Coop’s face was bright red. Trace had worked a bit longer and harder than he’d intended, but he wanted to impress the stalwarts of the team.

  “So we got a vacation coming up. You up for a little sun and fun?” Coop asked him.

  “Not sure what you mean. I just got here. Nothing wrong with San Diego’s sun and fun.”

  “Nah, man. I mean Hawaii.” Coop had his towel around his neck, sweat rolling down in rivulets all over his face and chest. “Bunch of us are going in on a big house on Kauai with like eight bedrooms. Got it for the week. We’re bringing wives and girlfriends, so you’re
welcome to if you want. We’re asking everyone for five hundred, and that will include everything but the bar tab, eating out, and the air fare, of course.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Put you down for one or two?” asked Fredo.

  “Just one. I’m solo right now.”

  “Okay, you’ll probably get the couch, then.” Coop continued, “Fair warning, there are a few babies coming, but no kids. Some have babies they can’t be separated from yet. You get the idea.”

  “Yeah. Breastfeeding.”

  Fredo burst out laughing. “You’re all right, Trace! He comes already packaged for the program.”

  “You gotta understand, this isn’t my first picnic, and I’ve been on Team vacations before. I know the drill.” Trace didn’t want to dwell too much on some of the trips he and Shayla had taken in the past. There was a lot of naughtiness, some that got couples in trouble, and of course a whole lot of drinking. This time, he was single and kind of looking forward to it.

  Chapter 2

  Gretchen had all three girls in the kitchen for a quick bowl of soup before their father’s girlfriend made the pickup. Clover, her teenager and oldest of the three, displayed a long face and lack of enthusiasm for anything, wearing her backpack slipping off one shoulder. She finally dumped it on the ground and climbed the stool, hovering over her soup.

  “So, Mom, you going to get a bikini?” asked Rebecca. She started to pick the chicken in the chicken noodle soup from her braces.

  “What makes you think I don’t already have one?” Gretchen answered with a quick smile. “Or, maybe I’ll go to the nude beach. What do you think about that?”

  “Dumb,” moaned Clover. “Nobody looks good with all their clothes off. Who wants to see all the veins and flabby butts and boobs that hang to their waist?” She blew on her soup and slurped without looking up.

  Rebecca and Angie giggled. “Oh. My. God. She said flabby butts,” repeated Angie, and the two younger daughters snickered again.

  “Well, these aren’t your grandparents, you know.” Gretchen was going to continue, but Rebecca cut right across her.