Bachelor SEAL (Sleeper SEALs Book 5) Read online

  Bachelor SEAL

  Sleeper SEALs

  Book 5

  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 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)

  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: Bone Frog Brotherhood Series

  Bachelor SEAL

  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

  Medically discharged from the Teams, notorious bachelor SEAL, Morgan Hansen, is approached to lead the biggest undercover operation of his career. For credibility, he is tasked with training and partnering with his ex, from a breakup that made news headlines and nearly ended is career.

  Women’s empowerment guru, Halley Hansen, has built an empire around her live televised events and seminars. But her world-wide message for women has put her in the cross-hairs of some radical terrorist cells operating within the United States. The last person she wants to turn to or trusts is Morgan, her ex.

  They bury their pain to work together for a cause bigger than the both of them. And if they don’t implode in the passion of their re-connection, they just might have a chance to save the women of the world.

  Begin Reading

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Series Overview

  Table of Contents

  Copyright © 2017 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

  It has been my pleasure to be part of this Sleeper SEALs series with other talented authors I’ve either worked with before, or known and admired. I always love creative projects where we each get to put our personal spin on the general theme. Some of my previous characters appear in this book, and the character Commander Greg Lambert appears in all of them.

  I’ve been writing about SEALs righting wrongs in the Homeland since 2011, with my first SEAL Brotherhood book, Accidental SEAL, so this topic was not new to me. Of course we do not know of any super secret covert task force created by the CIA to protect our Homeland from our enemies, but it doesn’t take much of a stretch to go there.

  And we know that the SEALs are tasked with protecting the innocent all over the globe. This is a work of fiction. And in our world, they protect us at home as well as on foreign soil.

  They are heroes uniquely qualified not because they are the brightest or strongest. They are the ones who don’t quit, no matter what the odds.

  I’ll probably continue this story in the future, as the writing muse takes over my life again. I hope you enjoy something I’ve certainly had a wonderful time writing for you.

  Sharon Hamilton

  Santa Rosa, California

  November 14, 2017

  I support two main charities: Navy SEAL/UDT Museum 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

  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

  Other Books in the Sleeper SEAL series

  About the Author

  Series Overview

  Reviews

/>   Chapter 1

  Former SEAL Morgan Hansen looked over the sea of faces waiting for his initiation speech at the Rusty Scupper. Some faces were new, some old-timers—veterans of the love wars that could level a Navy SEAL as swiftly as an IED. And just like in a firefight, the Brotherhood needed the Band of Bachelors who would gather occasionally to mark a new milestone.

  One by one, they were admitted into this little conclave, held up by buddies who had tasted the smell of blood and smoke, heard the screams of battle and the sighs of a night of aimless sex. Though they were all well-oiled machines, made up of bone and sinew, they walked into the firefights with their eyes wide open, ready to die so some of them—and most the rest of the country—could live. And they all had their own remedies to deal with the craziness and the intense excitement of their lives. Sometimes, it was coming home to a good woman and a family who worshiped them. But not all were that lucky.

  And so Morgan’s little celebrations were borne, creating some way for him to forget the cost, as well as a gateway to uncertainty. The purpose was not to create a compelling or exciting future like their past, but just to make sure there was a future at all. That was the hard part.

  Losing your heart was just one of the prices you had to pay when you were a SEAL. And now Morgan couldn’t even have that. Oh yes, he had the plank. He had the autographed pictures and his old gear, stashed in a box under the floorboards of his bedroom. It was a master bedroom in a house that only housed the master—never a place for women—since the mistress had left some nearly ten years ago. That spot remained unoccupied, not because he couldn’t find anybody else to fill it, but because he wanted to prove to the world and himself that he didn’t need it. Then perhaps he would. But he was honest with himself.

  He wasn’t there yet.

  The beer flowed like it always did, sometimes with chasers, sometimes adorned with epithets and cursing as the bitter pill went down and made them all men of the Bachelorhood. They were always brothers, even with the married and attached SEALs. But it took a real man to be part of the Bone Frog Bachelorhood, and it was a helluva lot harder than most people thought to be one. Morgan would stare in the mirror each morning and say back to himself, “Here I am. I’m still here.”

  He held his glass up as the silence broke through the group, the background music still playing loudly. They observed the way his tense smile appeared, the way the hollows of his eyes were just a little deeper, the way the lines on his face became more and more pronounced as the years went by. And still they all watched him. He knew some worshiped him and the perceived peace he’d made of his life. If they only knew, they wouldn’t think such good thoughts about him.

  “Tonight, Gents, we are here to welcome another traveler to our little group, a man who has at last found his way to the fellowship of the Band of Bachelors. We’re here to show him a good time and to make sure he understands what an important first step he has taken to put all that shit behind him.”

  Several of the guys in front began to snicker, and someone swore and didn’t wait for the toast, downing his beer before Morgan could finish.

  But the rest of them raised their glasses, shouted “Amens!” to the Viking gods who haunted all their places of drink worship, and inhaled, readying themselves for the communion of the dead, the walking dead, and the horned heroes of Oden who showed them how to overcome anything.

  “To fuckin’ Curtis Cronquist and his entry into the Bachelorhood.”

  “To fuckin’ Curtis,” they all said, with their own personal brand of exuberance. Whatever it was, it worked for all of them.

  He’d found Curtis sniveling in the parking lot earlier and listened to him ramble about how he couldn’t come to the celebration. It was too soon, Curtis had said. His eyes remained painfully bloodshot and his nose continued to run. His left cheek was still bright red from the slap across his face Morgan gave him in response. But Curtis stood up and received the catcalls, cheers, and toasts.

  Morgan watched his shaking frame—Curtis’ hand was on his beer glass in a grip so tight it might shatter while the other balled into a fist—and knew exactly how the man felt. He’d like to tell him the days and weeks would go by and with each passing week it would get better, but he’d made a promise to himself a long time ago he could lie or bullshit, but never to a Brother.

  “Thanks, fellas.”

  His voice wavered a bit. Morgan wasn’t going to let him continue and start saying things like, “This means a lot to me,” another one of those unmanly things assholes told the world when they really felt like killing something or someone inside. So Morgan interrupted him.

  “We’re ten times stronger with you amongst us. Curtis here is a linguistics expert, and he’s going to teach us how to say some nasty things in nearly twenty-two languages. Right, Curtis?”

  “Fuckin’-A,” Curtis said, but was drowned out by the cheering crowd. He added something Morgan did not know. “Danny Begay taught me how to say ‘pig afterbirth’ in Navajo. With the right voice inflection and hand gestures, that scares the shit out of the evil ones.”

  They knew there was a big difference between the few Afghans and Iraqis they could trust, along with their families and the majority of tribes who harbored generations of hatred for the “invaders.” It was hardwired in their DNA and not their fault, Morgan thought. But that didn’t mean he could forgive. He’d never forgive them for any of it.

  When Curtis sat down and received the little tokens—some coins from whorehouses, mostly fake, challenge coins, patches, and vials of sand from hell—Morgan witnessed the normalcy of being single, yet again. It strengthened his own resolve, as if going through the threshold with poor Curtis was good energy for himself as well.

  Well, fuck it, it was.

  Outside, as they were leaving some two hours later, the brush of moist air fresh from the ocean kissed Morgan’s face and almost made him think he was in the presence of some beautiful thing with soft creamy skin, puffy red lips, and a cleavage he could lose himself in with the promise of a safe ride to oblivion and no guarantees. It was his mind playing tricks on him again. Somewhere, a sea bird called. A couple of girls laughed, and he heard a male voice responding. These were not foreign sounds, but not anything that interested him.

  Curtis was having trouble walking so Morgan threw his arm around the young SEAL’s waist and hoisted him closer to keep him from hitting a streetlight or stop sign pole. “Come on, Curtis. Get your legs working just a little, and I’ll do the balancing. But fuckin’ give me some help.”

  Curtis struggled, trying to shake the help.

  “Don’t fuckin’ try it, or I’ll slap you again.”

  Curtis gurgled a chuckle, something halfway between a belch and a heave nearly swallowing his tongue, and then began to cough.

  “And if you fuckin’ puke on me, I’ll remove all your clothes and make you walk home nekked. Your career as a SEAL will be over.”

  Unlike Morgan, Curtis was still attached to SEAL Team 3. Morgan loved those guys and seriously missed them, even after the years. He knew, although he spent most his time with the misfits and marriage failures of the Team, that connection still kept him whole. If a guy was on a downward spiral, he would soon lose his Trident, as well as his marriage, and that’s what Morgan had created the Brotherhood for. To pick up the pieces. One could even say he was the garbage man of SEAL Team 3.

  He heard a whistle from behind and saw Cody, the Scupper bartender tonight, signal and point to the street behind them. He’d called a cab. Fuckin’ good thing, too, because Morgan couldn’t remember where he’d parked his truck. He was only a little bit less drunk than Curtis. But it wouldn’t be a career ender to get a DUI, like it would be for Curtis.

  Having a taxi waiting was the best choice, and if he hadn’t been so drunk, he’d have thought about it. Cody came running, taking on over half the load, and assisted getting them both inside. He handed the cabbie some money. Morgan was going to thank him, but his head jerked back when the
cab sped up to supersonic speed. He turned around and out of the rear window saw Cody standing with his white apron and giving him the one-finger salute.

  Well, he deserved that.

  The Indian driver was oblivious to bag of bones he’d picked up. His little elephant idol and beads swung back and forth on the rear view mirror. His irises were dark in contrast to the white of his eyes that were almost too bright to view.

  “Where to?” He was chewing on a toothpick.

  “Uh, thirty-four forty-eight Apricot. Over in the Orchards Subdivision.”

  The cabbie took out his toothpick and stared back, having now observed the condition of his passengers based on the slurring of Morgan’s speech. “I know it. I’ll wake you when I’m there.” And then he went back to his work, plowing through obstacles on this Saturday night, helping his precious cargo home safely. There were good cabbies and asshole cabbies in Coronado, and not many in-between. This one was a good one.

  Morgan was yanked to attention when the cab stopped abruptly and he nearly hit the seat in front of him. The driver was over on Curtis’s side first, which left Morgan to his own devices. But as soon as he saw the little bungalow he’d wisely invested in some dozen years ago, now surrounded by much larger, remodeled homes, he whipped his ego into shape and tried to look like he was coming home sober. He’d had a lot of practice at that during the years before his marriage failed. And he’d always been unable to fool anyone. It guaranteed him a cold couch and an angry woman at home, which was probably all he deserved.

  But tonight it was all about helping Curtis, being the ferryman over the River Styx. His charge was giving the cabbie some attitude, which wasn’t fair. Morgan came to his defense.

  “Curtis, stop behaving like an ass. The man’s trying to help you out. You’re drunk, and I’m getting you to a bed you can crash on. So shut the fuck up and do what he says.”

  Curtis wrenched his head up like a newborn and tried to look around. “Where am I? I don’t live the fuck here.”