Sea of Dreams (The American Heroes Series Book 2) (2 page)

“You’re welcome,” he said, standing up and gently pulling her to her feet.  He was still holding her hand, greedily, soaking up the last few moments of her soft flesh before she would inevitably pull her hand away. “Are you ladies heading home for the day now? You shouldn’t let a little mishap spoil your fun, you know. Once the haze burns off, it’ll be a beautiful day.”

Blakesley smiled and, as he had known, pulled her hand from his grip and began to brush off her pants. “We’ve been here since early morning,” she told him. “We’re staying here at the hotel so I’m sure this won’t be our last trip to the beach today.”

Beck glanced up at the towering white Victorian hotel with its terra-cotta colored roof and tall, cupola-shaped spire that was a landmark in San Diego.  It was big, beautiful and historic.

“You just moved to San Diego but you’re staying in a hotel?” he cocked his head curiously.

Blakesley nodded, turning to watch Crosby and Charlotte run circles in the sand. “I’ve always wanted to stay here,” she admitted. “It’s just for this weekend.  Our house is still being cleared out and… well, anyway, I’m sure you don’t care about that, so we’re just at the hotel for the weekend.”

His face was creased in a permanent smile as he gazed down at her.  She was a couple of inches over five feet, deliciously curvy, with tantalizing cleavage that he could see encased in a pink bikini top beneath a flowing white shirt.  In fact, it was a struggle not to look at that amazing cleavage as he looked her in the eye. When he opened his mouth to say something, Charlotte abruptly crashed into his legs as she and her giggling sister chased each other.  He instinctively reached down to keep the little girl from tumbling.

“Whoa there,” he cautioned gently. “Careful.”

Crosby was grabbing at Charlotte, who screamed and clung to Beck as if the man could save her.  Beck began to laugh but Blakesley reached out and grasped her daughter, pulling her away from the big man in the wetsuit.

“Sorry,” she cast Beck an apologetic look. “She can be rather, uh, friendly.”

He just shook his head. “She’s sweet,” he told her. “No worries.”

Blakesley smiled broadly, flashing him that big dimple in her left cheek, and Beck was growing more enchanted by the moment.

“Well… thank you again,” she said sincerely. “It’s been very nice meeting you, Mr. Beck.”

He realized she was preparing to leave him.  He didn’t want her to leave, not in the least.  He was feeling a great amount of disappointment at the thought.  He started thinking furiously of a way not to end the conversation.

“Actually, Beck is my first name,” he told her. “It’s Beckham, but everybody calls me Beck.”

Blakesley nodded in understanding. “Nice,” she said, coming to realize that she, too, was glad the conversation was continuing and she, too, realized she wanted to keep it going. “This is an obvious statement, but you evidently have something to do with the naval base on Coronado. I hope saving my daughter didn’t interrupt anything.”

He shook his head, his blond hair glistening under the hazy sun. “We just finished up,” he told her. “We were heading back.”

“What were you doing?”

“Secret stuff. James Bond stuff.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Blakesley laughed softly.  Along with his soothing demeanor and stunning blond good looks, he was also very charming. There was no reason on earth she should give the man a second glance, but she did.  She couldn’t help it.  He really did look like a movie star with his attractive face and muscular build.  Now that he was on his feet, she could see that he was maybe a foot taller than her five foot two inches, not inordinately tall, but his frame was just plain big.  He was a very big man all tucked up into that skin-tight rubber suit, something that didn’t go unnoticed by her and probably every other woman on the beach.  She couldn’t imagine he had any shortage of female companionship, or was perhaps even married, so she allowed herself to feel giddy in his glorious presence and nothing more.  There wasn’t any point.

“Well,” she began to glance around to where Cadee and Crosby were now picking up their towels, “I guess we’d better get going.  It was really good to meet you, Beck.”

His brilliant smile grew. “Beckham Raymond Seavington the Third,” he told her. “If you ever want to name your next kid after me, now you know.”

She laughed. “That’s not likely to happen, but thanks for the information.”

His face fell dramatically. “You don’t want to name your next kid after me?”

She couldn’t stop laughing, backing away from him partially because Charlotte was pulling at her and partially because he was making her feel hot and giggly. 

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she told him. “No more kids for me. Three girls are enough.”

He was back to grinning, shrugging. “Your husband doesn’t want a boy? Beck’s a good name, you know.  It’ll go with Masterson really well.”

It was an exceptionally leading question but Blakesley didn’t get defensive about it like she usually would.  She could see that he was trying to probe her and against her usual reaction, she let him.  She had nothing to lose.

“No husband,” she told him, still backing away as Charlotte pulled. “Nobody at all.  You’ll have to get someone else to name a kid after you.”

Beck just stood there and grinned, waving at her when she waved at him and turned back to her daughters.  He stood there watching her pick up towels and bags, watching her deliciously round buttocks in her wet Capri pants as she herded the girls up towards the hotel.   There was something so sweet and fluid about the way she moved, the way her shiny hair blew softly in the breeze.  Enchanted was a very appropriate word for what he felt when he looked at her.

When Blakesley turned around and saw that he was still standing there watching her, she waved at him again and he waved back. She was feeling giddy and self-conscious, knowing that he was standing there watching her, but she couldn’t help the grin on her lips as she pulled her girls back towards the hotel.  It was nice to feel like that again, even if it was only fleeting.  She could feel his gaze on her as they made their way to the hotel doors, daring to turn around to see if he was still there and rather surprised to find that he wasn’t.

 A glance down the beach, both north and south, didn’t show the man.  There were all sorts of people on the sand, but no man in a wetsuit.  He had literally vanished.  As she held the door open for her girls, she noticed something out in the water, paralleling the shore and swimming north in the direction of the naval base. It took her a moment to realize it was him, evidently unconcerned with the two mile swim to the base grounds.  It was rather James Bond.

With a grin, she followed her girls into the hotel’s posh and cool depths.

Chapter Two

“Hey, thanks for waiting for me,” Beck said sarcastically as he entered the big barracks at the Coronado Naval Amphibious Base where his team was stationed. “You’re lucky I made it back.”

There were about twenty men spread out over the barracks, which were more like a small air hanger than an actual building.  There were offices, a conference room, lockers, a shower area, and a big wide-open area used for staging. Most of the men were checking their weapons but some were beginning to change out of their gear.  They looked up at Beck as the man walked wearily into the barracks, dripping wet.

“Sorry, sir,” a young seaman was sitting on the floor going through his equipment. “Lt. Commander Aguirre ordered us back to base.”

Beck’s gaze moved off towards the locker area where the officers kept their equipment. “He did, did he?” he muttered, running his hand over his drying hair and thinking that his operations officer would soon be getting a foot shoved up his ass. “I’m going to have to have a talk with Mr. Aguirre.”

The seamen spread out over the floor pretended to be busy but grins and glances passed between them as Commander Seavington made his way over to the officer’s area.  Things could get lively between the unit commander and his second, Lt. Commander Aguirre, at times.

Beck walked up to the bank of lockers where two men were in various stages of undress. Operations and Tactics officer Robert “Butch” Aguirre caught sight of Beck as he approached, a big grin crossing his face. Butch was a big man with a heavy combat background, bald as a cue ball and looking a lot like Mr. Clean.  He was a little rough around the edges but there was no one better qualified on a mission.  He also happened to be one of Beck’s closest friends.

“Thanks for taking off,” Beck scolded. “I had to swim back.”

Butch grinned and turned back to the pack he was reloading. “Quit your crying, little girl,” he said. “I wasn’t about to interrupt you.”

“What do you mean?”

Butch looked at the other officer, Chief Petty Officer Anthony Solis.  He was young but extremely smart, with jet black hair, black eyes, and an efficient manner about him. The kid was first generation Italian American and Navy to the core.  Solis grinned at Aguirre but quickly looked away so Seavington wouldn’t see him.

“That sweet young mother you were talking to,” Aguirre fought off a grin as he pretended to focus on his equipment. “There was no way I was getting in the middle of that.”

Beck scowled. “There wasn’t anything to get in the middle of,” he said, grumpy, and yanked his locker open. “I was just making sure she and her daughter were okay.”

Butch shook his head. “Beck, I’ve known you for ten years. Never, in that time, have you departed from your command and control mode to talk to a civilian.  I don’t blame you, though; she was pretty sweet.”

Beck didn’t say anything as he began to peel himself out of the wetsuit.  Any snappy reply he could think of had him sounding defensive or, worse yet, guilty of what they were suggesting.  But the truth was that they were right.  He started feeling a little unbalanced at the thought.

“Whatever,” he growled; it was all he could think to say. “Where’s Davis?”

He was referring to their commanding officer, a hawk-like man who was always integrally involved in any operation they performed, even exercises. He had been out on a small cruiser watching his men conduct exercises in a Combat Rubber Raiding Craft.  Many of the S.E.A.L. teams had specialties, like counter-terrorism or demolitions, but Beck’s team specialized in land ops, assault craft boarding and rescue, and they had been at it for two days straight.  Butch shrugged to Beck’s question.

“Not sure,” he said. “He was here a minute ago, looking for you.”

Beck rolled his eyes.  “Great,” he muttered. “The CO comes looking for me and I’m AWOL.”

“Was it worth it?” Butch wanted to know.

Beck looked down at him. “Was what worth it?”

“Talking to her.”

Beck dug into his locker, debating on what, or how much, he should say.  He pulled out a dry tee shirt.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “It was worth it.”

Butch and Anthony perked up, all ears now that Seavington was talking. “Really?” Butch said. “That’s great.  Are you going to see her again?”

Beck lifted his big shoulders. “Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know. We really didn’t talk about it.”

“Did you get her number?”

“No.”

“Name?”

“Blakesley Thorne.”

Butch looked at Anthony and winked. “Blakesley Thorne,” he repeated, rather dreamily.  “Very nice. So do something about it. Ask her out.”

Beck shrugged again. “Maybe.”

Butch threw up his hands, turning to Anthony. “Do you hear this guy?” he jabbed a finger at Beck. “If it was me, I sure wouldn’t wait. He meets a woman he actually says more than two words to, which means he’s seriously attracted to her, but he’s not sure if he’s going to ask her out? What a loser.”

Anthony grinned, looking at Beck, who was pulling out a dry pair of pants.  “Maybe he just doesn’t want to rush anything,” Anthony said. “Maybe she’s not really his type.”

Beck looked at the pair. “Oh, don’t get me wrong; she’s my type,” he said. “But… oh, hell, I don’t know. I just don’t need this kind of trouble.”

Butch laughed softly and slapped him on the back. “You need to get laid.”

As Butch and Anthony snorted, Beck just shook his head at them. “That’s the last thing I need,” he said. “But maybe… well, maybe I could take her to dinner. If she’ll go. She may not even like me, you know.”

Butch’s smile faded.  “You let that bitch ex-wife convince you that no woman would want you because of your job,” he stood up from the bench he had been seated on. “You’ve let her do that to you for four years, Beck. Enough is enough. If you like this Blakesley, then ask her to dinner. The worst thing that can happen is you have a good time.”

“Or she turns me down.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Butch was right; there was only one way to find out.

***

The Sheerwater Restaurant at the Hotel Del Coronado offered California dining al fresco with the Pacific Ocean as the backdrop. Dusk was gentle on this night, a soft breeze blowing off the water as the patio fire pit offered a bit of warmth in the cool wind.  There was a beautiful moon above and everything would have been quite romantic had Blakesley had a special partner to share the evening with.

But she didn’t. She hadn’t in well over a year, not since Ed had been sentenced and packed away in Folsom Prison. Blakesley sat facing the water, her second glass of wine in hand as Charlotte slept on her lap, thinking back to the days when her ex-husband hadn’t been a murdering cheat.  As she had done so many times over the months since Ed’s crime spree, she wondered when in the hell the man she had fallen in love with had gone so wrong.   It just didn’t make any sense to her, not after all this time, and Ed couldn’t seem to explain it.  So she shut him out of her life, out of her children’s lives, and made every effort to move on as if he had never existed. It was a past she couldn’t get away from but one she desperately wanted to shake.

It was important to move on for her children. Cadee, having recovered from her near-death experience, was enjoying a chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream while Crosby indulged in a hot fudge sundae.  Charlotte had been too exhausted to stay awake for the treats after dinner and slept soundly on her mother.  As the girls ate, Blakesley sat and watched the waves pound, glancing at the happy families dining around them and trying not to feel too depressed that she was single with her girls. It wasn’t so much that being single bothered her, because it didn’t. She just felt bad for her girls being without a father.