SEALed Forever Read online

  His best friend started to interrupt him, and Tucker grabbed his ears and spit out his message.

  “Or were you thinkin’ you’d check out over there in that shit African red clay, making Dorie a widow and your daughter fatherless? Maybe causing the death of one or more of your friends who have pledged their lives to save your dumb ass. You willing to take us all with you? You want to be that kind of best friend to me, Brawley? Or are you gonna man-up?”

  Tucker released Brawley’s ears and pivoted like a Color Guard. He thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t gotten clobbered with that delivery and called it good. Whatever Brawley did next was up to him.

  It was just something that had to be delivered before they left for Africa. After they were there, it would be too late.

  Tucker had done all he could.

  Chapter 2

  Brandy held little Jessica, who began to stir and then fuss. She knew the toddler would sense she wasn’t in her mother’s arms, and it didn’t take long. Jessica’s blue eyes opened wide and then squinted, as if she considered going into a fearful cry, but then smoothed out as Brandy whispered down to her,

  “You know me, Jessica. It’s your auntie Brandy. And Mommy is right here, see?” She propped the child at an angle so she could see her mother standing next to Brandy. Dorie gave her another funny face and tickled her under her chin, which made Jessica giggle.

  But when the squirming got to be more pronounced, Brandy handed her back to her mother.

  “She’s getting big. Can’t believe how heavy she is now,” Brandy said to her best friend.

  “I know it. I fear she’s going to take after Brawley’s side of the family.”

  Both of them laughed.

  “How are they these days?” Brandy asked.

  “As weird as ever. Brawley’s dad is having some health issues. She’s trying to get him to give up drinking.”

  “Oh, Lord. I thought she was smarter than that.”

  “Brawley says it was a good talk with his dad, one of the best they’d had recently.”

  Brandy remembered the day of Dorie and Brawley’s wedding. Mr. Hanks was so proud of his son for following in his Team footsteps, even if Brawley hadn’t yet made it to twenty years like his father did. She remembered how tender Tucker was about the older man. The story had touched her, how this gruff old guy stood by his often cold and emotionally distant wife and two daughters. He was tough as nails with Brawley, but loved him intensely. She knew old man Hanks lived through Brawley.

  She searched the crowd for Tucker and found him returning to the campfire, alone. He struck up a conversation with several newbie SEALs—froglets, as they were called.

  Dorie was swinging Jessica around, singing. The firelight on her face melted the lines and dark shades her face had shown of late.

  Honeymoon is over. Now the real life begins.

  When Dorie took a bench, Brandy sat next to her and they swayed, shoulder to shoulder, like they’d done so many times over the past few years—before they were married, before Dorie’s little girl, and before all the trouble that was brewing.

  She wanted to ask her friend how things were going but didn’t want to intrude or shatter what simple sense of peace the night gathering was giving her. The stars were out now. Someone was playing a guitar and laughter erupted as older children splashed in the evening surf, monitored by hovering moms and dads.

  She remembered the 4th of July fireworks at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk her parents took her to once when she was a child. That night, they lay back on the blanket spread for all of them, holding hands, the three of them watching the night sky light up and sparkle as if it would go on without end.

  Those were special summer days. Holding on to the hands of the two most important people in her life, inoculated against the screams of the Big Dipper coaster. She was never afraid when they both were there. It never occurred to her that these happy days wouldn’t last forever. She made a mental note to enjoy what today, what tonight was and was not—to cherish it. And instead of the steady hands of her parents, she now had her big man with his basketball hands and arms the size of small tree trunks who could hold her tight if ever she was afraid and, in the most delicate of ways, hold her heart in the palm of his enormous hand.

  She’d always been a woman to barge ahead and make space for herself, especially since opportunities weren’t offered to her as often as they were for beautiful women like Dorie. Brandy had to work for it, yet, in Tucker’s arms, she almost felt as fragile and delicate as a small bird.

  Jessica had fallen asleep again, so Brandy offered to hold her, giving her mother’s arms a break. The cherub leaned against her soft chest and grabbed the folds of her sundress in her sleep. She smelled clean. Her warm breath was soothing. Someday Brandy knew she’d like to hold one of her own, when the right time came along.

  She glanced up and caught Tucker watching her rocking Dorie’s daughter. His warm smile sent an electric spark down her spine. Her eyes watered as she inhaled and let her heart soak up all the love she had for this man. She was the luckiest girl in the world.

  Dorie rested her head on Brandy’s shoulder. “Look at that big oaf. He loves you so much. You can just tell the way he looks at you. I’ve never seen him so happy, Brandy,” her best friend said, breathlessly.

  “Who knew, right?” Brandy referred to the fact that he’d always been considered a permanent bachelor, just as she had fit the old cliché “always a bridesmaid…” He was strong as an ox and fiercely loyal but not the womanizing type, and so he had never been chased. That was something else they had in common.

  Dorie noticed the tears in her eyes. “It’s okay to cry, Hon. What you two have is special.” She raised her head and angled it the opposite direction. “Sometimes, I envy you so much.”

  That was always how Brandy had felt, being Dorie’s plus-sized friend, who was good-natured, positive, easy to talk to, but not the stunner Dorie was. She was aware that sometimes men befriended her just to get closer to Dorie.

  All that had changed. And now Dorie was filled with envy of the love she shared with Tucker.

  “Welcome to my world, Dorie. I used to feel that way about you every time we went somewhere. Then it was you and Brawley, the perfect couple. I wanted that so much.”

  “And see? You got it.”

  There was an awkward pause, and she found the courage to ask that question she’d been needing to. “So how’s he doing?”

  Dorie sat up straight. She pulled her oversized sweatshirt over her knees and wiggled her bare toes in the sand then re-clipped her hair, which she always did when she was thinking. “He’s nervous. But I think he’ll do all right. He just needs to prove to himself that he can handle the load.”

  Brandy nodded. “Tucker will keep an eye out for him. He looks ready,” she said and then wished she could take it back.

  They grew silent again. “He’s got good meds, when he takes them. He’ll be on them the rest of his life, the doctor told us. But he still is getting used to how they feel. I know he worries it will affect his reaction times.”

  “Performance anxiety. He’ll shake it off, Dorie. You’ll see.” She wanted to be as positive as she could. She wanted to believe every word, but deep inside, she had some niggling doubts.

  It was time to change the subject.

  “You have plans for the two of you when they’re overseas?”

  “Mom wants me to go on a cruise with her, but I don’t want to take Jessica, and I don’t want to leave her.”

  “Let me take her. I’d love to help out. You just let me know. Go have that vacation with your mom,” Brandy whispered.

  Dorie smirked. “It’s not a real vacation being with her, especially when she’s between boyfriends. I feel like I’m the chaperone and she’s the wayward teenager.”

  Brandy laughed. “Good point. You and your mom have always been like that, though. Take advantage of it while she’s outrageous. I’d give anything to have just one more day with my mom. It
’s been over sixteen years and I still miss her every day.”

  Dorie put her arm around her shoulders. “Sweetie, you deserve a big hug for that one. We’ll just help each other, then. And you should paint. Your sketches are beautiful, Brandy. Maybe this will give you time to explore that part of yourself you can’t when he’s around. And it might help you get your mind off worrying about what they’re doing and if they’re safe.”

  “I’ll need some of that.”

  “We both will.”

  Tucker was quiet on the ride home. Brandy snuggled against him in the front seat, tucking herself under the protection of his huge wing. She could feel his thoughts.

  They would have tonight together and all day tomorrow. One last chance for a perfect Sunday, and then it was early to bed for his four o’clock trip to the base for transport overseas. It was the first time she would be home alone knowing Tucker wasn’t on a training exercise but an actual mission.

  His chest began to rumble. “You’re doing really well, honey. It will be over before you know it. The second and third time, they say it gets easier. After that, well, they’ll be asking all the newbie wives to hang around you for advice and comfort. You’ll see. Christy, Dorie, and the other wives will take good care of you.”

  “Thanks, Tucker. I’ll try to check in with your folks and sister a bit too.”

  “They’d love that. But don’t be surprised if my mom gets you worried. She’s the worrier in the Oregon clan. Always was. Even worse now, I think.”

  “But she’s so proud…” Brandy started to say.

  “She doesn’t favor the odds, the more I go over. It’s just a fact of deployment.”

  Brandy knew it was one thing to be married to the love of her life knowing he was going over to a foreign and very hostile environment and quite another to raise a son going into harm’s way.

  “I totally get it, Tucker.” She withdrew and studied his face. They had parked at her bungalow. “Only thing that makes it okay is that I know it’s what you love. Who would I be if I tried to stop you from your desires?”

  His grin shone in the moonlight.

  “Speaking of those desires…” he mumbled then covered her mouth with his. “I want to make some memories in the next few hours we have left so I’ll have things to dream about over in the jungle.” His hand brushed her cheek tenderly. “I won’t be sad if I focus on the homecoming,” he whispered before he claimed her hungry mouth.

  Their kisses turned into heavy petting. Her bra became unhooked. His head barely fit under the tight tee shirt until she pulled it up around her neck. He hoisted her up onto his lap after he slid beyond the steering wheel. She slowly pressed her mound over his groin and followed his hard edge then repeated the movement, back and forth, loving the stimulation. She was getting soaked with her own juices.

  She framed Tucker’s face between her hands. His wet lips and tongue had abused her nipples, which knotted and perked for him. His paw grazed down her rear, seeking entrance to her core with two long, probing fingers. She bent her knees at his hips and rose up just enough so he could feel her heat and the wetness of her desire.

  “Baby, I want to do this right here, right now, so if that’s what you want, I’m good with it,” he whispered.

  “Anytime, Tucker. Anywhere.”

  It was tight in the cab of his truck, but she managed to move down on him, eventually finding and covering his shaft, setting off the horn in only one staccato burst. She didn’t even look outside to see if her father, who lived in the big home in front, had heard them.

  And she could tell Tucker hadn’t even noticed.

  Chapter 3

  Tucker awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Their Sunday routine usually meant sleeping in and staying in bed fooling around as long as possible, often until lunch. But he knew she was making him a memorable breakfast, to add to some of the memorable things they’d done last night in the truck and again in the bed until they both collapsed.

  But today, he felt ready to go, ready to do it all over again. And he was starved.

  He donned his American flag boxers and padded his way to the kitchen, where Brandy hummed a new country tune they liked. She wore her pink fuzzy robe, the one that was a tad bit small for her, not that he was complaining. The thing gaped open and only managed to keep her back and shoulders warm. It did nothing to cover up her luscious chest or that delicious triangle between her legs he was hoping to explore soon.

  She was barefoot, her hair clipped atop her head, one hand holding a red coffee mug and the other massaging bacon with a red spatula. Brandy’s smile could warm the North Pole. He especially liked the bruises she had on the right side of her neck.

  “Look at you!” he growled.

  She pointed the red spatula at him. “Look at you!” she returned. “All dressed up and nowhere to go.”

  He moved around to her backside while she continued to cook the bacon. He let her feel his hardness as his knees bent slightly, connecting their thighs. “I have something for you. Just take a seat,” he said in a raspy whisper before carefully kissing an especially large reddish-purple bruise under her right ear.

  “But I got bacon and coffee, Tucker,” she murmured.

  “I got bacon for you, sugar.”

  She wiggled her butt against him. His hands were inside her robe and, in one easy move, had turned off the stovetop and hoisted her up in the air, carrying her back to the bedroom.

  “I wanted to make you something special,” she giggled, still holding the red spatula.

  “Oh, you are, honey. I can’t wait to taste it.”

  He tossed her on the bed. She threw the spatula at him.

  “So you want to fight? I can fight with you, honey.” He pulled her ankles toward him, dropped his drawers, and was nearly inside her swollen lips when his phone rang. The ringtone meant it was Brawley.

  “God dammit!”

  “Just forget it. Put it in, Tucker.”

  “I’m going to, but I gotta take this call.”

  “Fuck me, Tucker. I promise to be real quiet.”

  He liked her spunk and her compliance, but he crawled over the bed, reaching for the phone at the side table. She was moving her body up to match him, pulling his butt checks down, trying to get him positioned for lovemaking.

  “Brawley, your timing sucks,” he said to his teammate.

  “Oh, that’s right. It’s your fuck day.”

  Tucker held the phone out to Brandy while he began to give her another hickey. Brandy laughed.

  “Hi, Brawley,” she teased. “Go ahead and talk, but Tucker’s sort of preoccupied at the moment.”

  She squealed as Tucker’s tongue slid between her legs.

  “You guys are both assholes,” he squawked through the phone. “Guess I’ll go do my PT by myself. No fun running with someone who can’t keep up, anyway.”

  Tucker jerked to attention. “I can keep up. I can whoop your ass any day.”

  Next, they heard a tap on Brandy’s bedroom window and discovered Brawley standing just outside, in the garden, with his cell phone to his ear.

  Brandy screamed and dove for the bedcovers. Tucker lifted a pillow to cover himself then disconnected the call.

  “Fuckin’ jerk. I’ll be right out,” he shouted. To Brandy, he pulled aside the blankets. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Let me get a timed run in, and I’ll be right back, if that’s okay.”

  She smiled. “I’ll get the breakfast finished and will put the eggs on when you get back. I got biscuits and blackberry jam my dad made last week. You could invite Brawley, if you want.”

  “No way,” he said as he pulled on his running shorts and a tee shirt and then slipped into his running shoes. From the dresser, he retrieved his fitness watch. “I’ll be back in about an hour, maybe a little longer. But I have plans for that blackberry jam.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  She was still curled in fetal position, her tempting pink body parts peeking out from beneath the covers. “I’ll be read
y.” Coming to her knees, she held up a sheet to cover her frontside and looked up to him with a sexy smile. “Have a good run.”

  Once outside, Tucker jumped into Brawley’s truck, and the two of them took off toward the beach for their five-mile run and swim cool down. Brawley had music on loud, so a conversation was out of the question.

  When they parked at the State beach, Tucker took advantage of the near-silence.

  “You really are an asshole. Last morning before we leave. Did it ever occur to you I might have had other plans, you jerk?”

  “Oh, I knew what you were probably doing or had just finished doing or were getting started doing. Look at it this way, I’m saving you from the excuse that you don’t need to work out today. You’re an old guy, Tucker. You don’t have all the stores the younger ones have.”

  Brawley said the last bit while running quickly away from Tucker, over the sand dune covered in ice plant, and heading for the firmer sand by the surf.

  Tucker had to work to catch up to him, and then Brawley turned on the speed, not giving him an ounce of respite. But Tucker had everything he needed, and the anger in his gut gave him a little more. He never let Brawley lead, not even by a nose.

  At the conclusion of their run, they dove into the surf and paddled out into the inlet, doing a buddy swim in tandem. Tucker’s swim stroke was the most challenging for him now at his age and weight. Although he’d kept up his timed runs and weight training, finding time for swim workouts had been difficult over the past ten years. His older body preferred a pool over the oily and dank inlet.

  He considered trimming down his body size after this next deployment. Brawley was a natural swimmer, and Tucker could barely keep up to him until the last stretch, when he pulled away and left Tucker feeling like he was dogpaddling behind. Emerging from the surf, he found Brawley sunning himself on the sand, waiting. His eyes were closed, covered with the trim dark sunglasses they all wore that hugged his face.