SEALed Forever Read online

  Tucker kicked a little sand onto Brawley’s chest.

  “Ah, thanks for the catnap, grandpa.”

  “I’m only a month older than you are. Give me a session at Gunny’s Gym and you’ll drop that cocky attitude.”

  Tucker stood slightly taller than Brawley, but both of them were two of the tallest SEALs on Team 3.

  Tucker reached down to give a hand, pulling Brawley up.

  “You game for a protein shake or coffee?” Brawley asked as both men retrieved their shoes and shirts and then ambled barefoot to the truck.

  “Nah, I gotta get back. Brandy’s got biscuits and her famous cheesy scramble and some homemade blackberry jam I’m dying to devour. I’m famished.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Brawley covered the front seat with a couple of old beach towels he retrieved from behind the cab. Tucker rubbed the sand from his feet and ankles, dropped his running shoes on the floorboards and positioned his wet lower torso carefully on the fluffy towel.

  “You have plans for today?” he asked Brawley.

  “Dorie wants to take Jessica to the aquarium, so I think we’ll head over there and have a picnic. We had a rough night with the little one up every two hours. When I left, they were both crashed, finally, so I’m going to let them sleep as long as they can.”

  “Good idea.”

  “You?”

  “Just fooling around. Gotta finish packing, clean my Sig, and double check the rest of my gear. It’s not second nature yet, but I know it will be, so I’m doing everything twice. You need anything for your kit in case I stop by the base?”

  “I’m good.”

  They rode in silence until they turned onto the road leading to Brandy’s bungalow. Her dad’s truck was gone, so Tucker made a note to make a quick stop at the store to say good-bye.

  “I meant to talk to you a little over coffee, so let me just get something off my chest, Tucker.”

  Brawley’s arms and hands rested at the top of the steering wheel while he waited for permission to continue. He was focused on Brandy’s front door as he pulled to a stop next to Tucker’s truck.

  “Shoot. I’m all ears, now that I’m fully awake.” Sand was itching Tucker’s backside as he angled his body, turning to partially face his teammate.

  “I wasn’t too proud of my behavior last night, Tuck. Had a real anti-social streak going on, and I should have stopped with the drinking much sooner.”

  “I wondered why you got so hammered. You’re getting to be a mean old drunk, Brawley.” It was awkward for Tucker to say this, but he wanted to make sure his friend knew it had been noticed.

  “Yeah, Kyle said something too.”

  “We can’t do it all, Brawley. You gotta meet us halfway. Just like boat crew. Everyone has to pull their own weight.”

  Tucker noticed Brawley flinched at those words.

  “You have to exercise better judgment. What if something happens and you have to lead the team?”

  Brawley looked away, nodding and staring out the driver side window.

  “You brought your meds?”

  “I got them packed. Went off them yesterday, because, well, I have trouble—”

  Brandy had confided that Brawley had impotence issues sometimes when he regularly took the medication cocktails he was prescribed. He guessed this sacrifice of Brawley’s demeanor went to no avail since the angry streak probably played havoc with his ability to be intimate. And Tucker knew it wasn’t just about performance. Brawley wasn’t that kind of guy.

  “You can’t do that.”

  Brawley shot Tucker a glare, winced, and rolled his right shoulder. His lips formed a thin straight line. “I wanted to show Dorie—”

  “I know all about it, asshole. We’ve studied those meds in core school. But it’s dangerous. You can’t go taking risks.”

  Tucker wanted to leave the conversation alone until they had more time. But he adjusted his attitude and decided he’d give Brawley as much as he needed.

  “Dorie’s gonna love you anyway, sport. You know that. If you think about it, don’t you figure she’d rather have you settled than hard, you dumb fuck?”

  “Yup, you’re probably right.” Brawley’s voice trailed off to some place distant.

  “Doesn’t make you less of a man. Besides, you can do other things, you know, work on it. Make it a project. Make it fun. I think you just need to get used to this new state. You’ll figure it out. Only been about, what, four or six months now? But definitely using too much alcohol is a big mistake. That’s on you, Brawley.”

  “I know. I didn’t want to be there. I felt like everyone was watching me, looking for tiny cracks.”

  “You know that’s bullshit, Brawley.”

  “And you’re a terrible liar.”

  “I don’t want to preach, but damned if I’m going to shut up, either. We get over there, and we’ll be busy, and I won’t have the time.”

  Tucker waited several seconds for the heavy words to clear. In the small space they shared in private, he continued in a whisper. “Brawley, the only way you’ll get through this is to charge right through it. Who cares? You have a medical condition, like someone having a bum hip or a slightly sprained ankle. We watch out for one another. You make good decisions, Brawley, and people will stop watching you.” He faced his childhood friend again. “Only way out is through. Right fuckin’ through the middle.”

  Chapter 4

  Brandy heard Brawley’s truck arrive and was glad she’d decided to shower and get dressed, since their run had taken longer than Tucker had promised. She knew her husband took the responsibility for Brawley’s mental state of mind seriously. She had the rest of the day and evening to launch her first good-bye strategy. It was more important that Tucker see she could handle the separation maturely, like she had done when he went off to Great Lakes, BUD/S, and SQT. It was her job to give Tucker one less thing to worry about while he was on a real mission.

  He headed barefoot to her front door, tapping sand from between his toes and on his shoes. He left his shoes on the stoop. Wrapping his arms around her, her big man nuzzled in her ear, and apologized.

  “Is everything okay?” she had to ask.

  Tucker sighed, scanning her face. He was thinking again—choosing his words carefully. Measuring. Waiting for something that would be revealed later. At last he gave the expected answer.

  “I think so. We all just need to give him time. They had a rough night with the kid.”

  She felt the pang of disappointment, knowing that at some time in the future perhaps they too would have a day before deployment that wasn’t ideal. Kids and other family members caused all sorts of chaos. Things get said. People get sick. There were bills to pay and other stresses on young SEAL families.

  And there was never enough time to settle everything before they had to leave again. She’d heard the stories. Had happened to people everyone was surprised at. It could derail Tucker and Brandy too.

  That’s just the way life works sometimes.

  “Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll have everything ready when you get out?” She followed it with a kiss and a slap on his butt.

  “Roger that. I’m off to the shower.”

  After breakfast, she threw in another load of clothes for his journey to Africa. She watched him search through his things—zip and unzip the packing sleeves and boxes he had organized, counting items in his medic kit, double-wrapping some articles in bubble wrap or foam wedges, and taping others together. He threw in two large rolls of duct tape, a box of disinfectant wipes, bug repellent, and a box of her lavender-scented dryer sheets.

  His duty bag contained his specialized equipment, protection devices, and weapons. It would be carried separately with all the other team gear.

  He left his clothing bag open as they headed out to run errands.

  “Has anyone told you how long it will be?” she asked.

  The traffic was blissfully light for a Sunday. He took a back route, away from the
potential of distracted drivers unfamiliar with the little roads. It took longer, but it was worth it, he liked to tell her.

  “At least a couple of months. It’s something new, so we’re not replacing another team who’s coming home. A lot depends on what we find when we get there.”

  She knew this, but it was reassuring to hear him explain it again. It verified there was no camouflaged story, just consistent facts.

  “Any last-minute instructions? Like when I’ll hear from you, or can call you?”

  “Not until we get there, Brandy. My phone will be off most of the time. But you can leave me some sexy messages.”

  He followed it up with a wink. She was going to miss those little half-smiles and winks.

  “We’re hoping we’ll be able to do some face-to-face calls, but we have to be careful about the electronic footprint, so they’ll lay it out for us when we get there. They’ll establish a protocol.”

  He suggested she stay close with the other wives but be careful about repeating gossip or treating speculation as truth.

  “Things can get blown out of proportion. We don’t want to start any marital discord if we can help it,” he added.

  She’d never thought about that. “I can see why it’s important to stay in touch.”

  “Yep. Christy will give you a call list, and just like the rest of us do when we’re home, she’ll tell you who you need to be in contact with on a daily basis. I’m guessing you and Dorie will be in the same grouping since you’re already best friends. That way, we don’t miss anything. Anyone has trouble with the kids or there is an illness, everyone pitches in. You know, life?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “You get any calls from overseas you aren’t positive are from the Navy or one of our team, you disengage.”

  “You’re kidding. You mean I might get calls from Africa? They’ll know I’m alone?”

  “It could happen. One of my early deployments, one of the wives actually got a telegram. Someone was asking for money, saying her husband had been captured. You know something like that is bogus, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “It would never go down that way. You’d hear from the Navy if something like that happened.”

  Brandy noted her heartbeat was racing. “You’re making me scared, Tucker.”

  “Good. If it makes you cautious and prepared, good. Be careful who you talk to. Don’t volunteer anything. People will want to ask. You can’t tell if it’s innocent or not. You report anything suspicious to Christy right away, and she’ll know how to handle it.”

  “Got it.”

  They approached her father’s gourmet fruit and grocery store. Tucker continued.

  “There is a plan for every eventuality for the families of deployed just like we have. This isn’t a group think or rule by committee. Christy calls the shots, and she’s the one who has to know everything that’s going on at home that’s important. You don’t ask anyone else’s advice or overrule an instruction she’s given.”

  Brandy made the mental note she’d have to stuff down some of her stubbornness, perhaps dial back some opinions as well.

  “As long as they’re sending you over there prepared, Tucker.”

  He turned off the truck and chuckled. “Sweetheart. Let me say this one more time.”

  He took her hand. “Things always get fucked up. No mission ever goes as planned. We’re trained for the unexpected and, hopefully, ways we can adjust to any eventuality. That’s what we do. We don’t get to come home just because they didn’t get us the support we needed. We have to make do.”

  Her stomach rumbled. Tucker must have seen the fear now resident in her eyes and her heart, pulsing throughout her body.

  “One thing you need to know that might reassure you. We’re the best trained force out there. And I couldn’t have a better platoon leader than Chief Lansdowne. Over a third of these guys I’ve known for over fifteen years, like Brawley. I did this before. I can do it again. And every one of those guys would take a bullet for me without a moment’s hesitation.”

  She began to shake.

  Tucker leaned forward and whispered to her lips as he nibbled between words, softly replacing her worry with new flames of desire. “All you have to do is trust me. Trust that it will all work out. Think about the homecoming every single day and every single night. Feel how good it will be to be back together again, okay, honey?”

  He pressed deeper. Then she broke it off, came up for air, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him with everything she had. “Just come back to me.”

  “Nothing human could keep me away.”

  Chapter 5

  Tucker shook the hand of Brandy’s world-class dad, the man who he could count on to keep Brandy from jumping off the rails. He liked that she had this gentle man to confide in. His wise counsel was something not all the other wives had. And, if the worst should befall him, Steven Cook would be a great help in bringing Brandy safely through to the other side.

  He didn’t like to think about all these things, but now he had more to live for than in his earlier SEAL Team years, and so he had a lot more to lose. He wanted to make sure he did everything he could to prepare them both for the possibility that he could come home injured or worse. Being prepared, even for bad news, was an important step in the grieving process, and it was every SEAL’s job to make sure the families had this.

  He remembered the advice he’d given Brawley this morning.

  Only way out is to drive right through the middle.

  And that’s what he was doing right now, hoping he’d covered all the bases.

  Steven Cook had been acting casual, appearing to accept Tucker’s upcoming trip, but their handshake took far too long, and when they disengaged, his eyes were watering. Tucker hadn’t been paying attention to a thing he was saying because he was reading the man’s handshake non-verbally.

  “Just like a camping trip when I was in the Scouts, Steve. Mosquito repellant, sunscreen SPF over one thousand, moist towelettes, and extra underwear.”

  “Geez, didn’t know they made sunscreen at one thousand SPF,” Cook said.

  “They don’t. I lied.” Tucker gave him a grin and winked at Brandy.

  Cook laughed and slapped his arm. “If it was me, I’d do a mosquito dip. Those bloodsuckers are big as birds, I’ve heard.”

  “Amen to that. When they have to put bars on the holes in the latrines, you know there are some creepy things that can come up and get you. I’m gonna have to get used to spraying my butt with repellent.”

  Even Brandy laughed at that one. “I thought they have trailers, like shipping containers outfitted with bathrooms and kitchens.”

  “Yeah, DIY tiny homes,” added Cook.

  Tucker could only wish. “You remember what I told you about being prepared? If I’m visualizing using a hole in the ground and I got a nice air-conditioned trailer with air freshener, the mental adjustment is not as difficult as the other way around.”

  “Tucker, I admire how many details you have to pay attention to. Most you guys could run large corporations with the experience you’ve gained. And you work together as one unit, bringing the best and brightest to places in the world that sorely need it.”

  “Well, sir, that’s why I’ve never wanted to go to OCS. It’s really more like running a zoo, in my opinion. And it’s never bothered me to take direction or orders, either, as long as I respect my superiors.”

  “We ought to make Congress go through your training, Tucker.”

  “Roger that. Love ’em, but they got one speed and one solution to everything.”

  “What’s that?” Brandy asked.

  “Plaster it with paperwork—so much paperwork that no one can move.”

  The three of them had a good laugh at the expense of some of the men and women who were sending Tucker on his mission tomorrow.

  Brandy left to grab water from her dad’s walk-in cooler, so Tucker took the opportunity to be frank with her father.


  “Steve, you be close to her. She’s not going to hear from me as much as she wants. That’s going to worry her.”

  Cook nodded.

  Tucker continued. “I think she’ll be fine, but you know her. She’ll also try to cover it up. Don’t let her do that. She can’t retreat. She has to stay engaged, connected, even if it means doing busy things to distract from the inherent dangers of warfare. Get her to paint, take a class, or help out more here. Make sure she fills up her days with things so she’s not alone.”

  “She loves to read. I’m sure she’ll get a lot of that done.”

  “Her romances will provide good diversion. I’m totally okay with her reading those.” He felt his own cheeks blush at some of the things Brandy had read in her books, adding to her sexual education. He considered himself a very lucky man.

  “Tucker, what are you guys doing over there?” Cook asked him.

  “Can’t say, Steve. The very poor and the very powerful with guns and money make for a deadly combination. Somehow, we’re supposed to get between them without getting ourselves killed. Beyond that, we might see no action, or it might be pure hell.”

  “I’m so happy you’re part of our family, Tuck. My daughter—well, I’ve never seen her so happy. You be sure to take care.”

  “Best is yet to come, sir,” Tucker said, with a wink.

  They said their good-byes. Brandy squeezed her father tight.

  “Whoa, wait a minute. You’re staying here. With me!” Cook said, unpeeling her arms from around his neck.

  “I just felt like it. That’s all,” was her response.

  They carted the two bags of groceries into the cooler in Tucker’s king cab. He’d asked her if she wanted to grab something at the ocean in lieu of a big dinner she’d have to prepare, and she agreed.

  Multi-million-dollar yachts, charter ships, and sleek sailing vessels spread out all along the waterway leading to the ocean. Over half of the berths were empty but would be occupied come sunset. They took a table overlooking the water and ordered clam chowder with bread. The warm, creamed soup was soothing on Tucker’s stomach as he watched the afternoon sun dance in Brandy’s red and mahogany curls, making her appear her head was on fire.