SEAL Under Covers (SEAL Brotherhood Series Book 3) (7 page)

She walked up to Armando and snatched the baby from his arms, retreating to the corner of the living room. “Well, now that you’ve gotten this all figured out, get the hell out of my house,” she spewed. “Just because you bought it for me doesn’t give you the right to come in here and tell me how to live. I can take care of myself. What about
that
don’t you understand, Armani?”

Armando could do nothing but shake his head from side to side. Fredo had lost interest, staring down at the ground. He could tell that the Mexican SEAL wanted to be anywhere but here.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” He got a nod of agreement from his shorter Teammate. Armando felt like a complete douchebag for getting Fredo involved in the first place. And then to have to stand there and hear him get abused by his own sister. Not to mention the shit he and the rest of the Team had been giving Fredo over the past year.

Before they could close the door behind them, Mia shouted out, “And don’t go trying to use your sexy ways to turn Gina against me. You stay the hell out of my life, hear? No rescue needed, or wanted, thank you very much. And stay the hell away from my friends.”

Outside, Fredo held out his palm for the keys and Armando ignored the gesture.

“Fuck’s wrong with you, Armani? Give me my fuckin’ keys.”

“I’m gonna fix the window.”

Fredo walked over to the driver’s door and swore. He kicked the truck, creating a small dent to match several other ones. “That asshole do this?”

“I’ll fix it, I said.” Armando was getting weary of the drama. What he really wanted was a cold beer, some smack talk, and then a hot shower and bed. He could still smell Gina’s scent on his shirt. He still felt her silky skin beneath his fingers. He was getting hard all over again. But he was standing here talking to one of his best friends about his broken window. And he was still getting hard.

What kind of animal are you?

Armando released the keys and Fredo drove them over to the Rusty Scupper. Lieutenant Malcolm Jones, Cooper and a new guy, SO Marc Beale, all from SEAL Team 3, looked up from the table outside where they had parked their butts, warming themselves by the fire pit in the center. They were alone since the place was wet from the rain. Armando noticed the three Teammates were wet as well.

“You guys know it’s been raining?” he asked them after he gave his order to the waitress.

Beale made a
ribbit
sound like a frog.

Cooper grinned. “Hell, Armani, I was just thinkin’ of going for a swim. You up for that?”

Jones had wrinkled his nose.

Fredo had noticed too, and added, “Jones, you gotta understand, this is a tradition. We love our midnight swims as much as we love our midnight HALO jumps. Right guys?”

There was a general mumbling in the affirmative.

Fredo continued. “We do this at least once a week. I do believe it’s been about that, maybe even two weeks since our last midnight swim.”

“I don’t like it much in the daytime, or anytime for that matter,” Jones said. With his dark complexion, all Armando could see was the LT’s white teeth. “Growing up in Mississippi, I stayed away from watering holes and such. Good way to get bit by a water snake or get yourself tied to a tree by some frisky white boys.”

“Frisky white boys?” Fredo asked.

“We’re talking Mississippi. Not many Mexicans there when I was growing up, not that it would have made much difference. Things are different now.” Jones took another sip of his beer. No one was going to touch that comment.

Marky Mark turned to Armando. “Lannie say where we was goin’ next week, Armani?”

“Nope,” he answered. “I asked him, do we take our fins and trunks, our gloves and parkas, or our cash?”

“Guess we’ll find out the evening before,” Coop concluded.

“Roger that. We’s on a Need. To. Know,” Fredo said.

Cooper crunched down ice from his mineral water. He uncurled his lanky, six-foot-four body and bowed to the group. “Well, I need to be going home and get some face time with the wifey. Got a big day tomorrow. Moving into our new house. I promised Libby I’d be home early to help with the last-minute packing.”

“Why?” Fredo asked. “You can put everything you got in that Babemobile in the back of my truck. And everyone here knows you aren’t gonna get any sleep tonight.”

Armando chuckled.

Fredo shot his heels up into the air. “Oh, Cooper, let me push against this wall so you can get deep. Oh. Oh. Oh. Ooooooh!” Fredo crooned. Beale and Jones began rocking in their chairs as if the motorhome Cooper lived in was rocking under them.

Cooper’s enormous frame cast a long shadow as he came to tower above the little group. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

No one heeded his warning.

Cooper tried again. “That sounds like you banging one of your professionals, Fredo. You listening in for pointers when I’m not paying attention?”

“Hell no, Coop, we can hear it all the way to Ducky’s. We sit out there and lick our cones while you’re getting your dick polished off,” Beale inserted.

“Well said, Marky Mark. You a legend, Coop.” Jones appeared to be glad the focus was off the swimming.

Cooper made a gesture like he was loosening his hips, doing a slow, gyrating hula for everyone to admire. “Tough job, but someone’s gotta do it. I’m working on a little Cooper. Sort of a housewarming present for my new bride.”

The group broke into laughter and several Teammates whistled their approval. With the tension reduced, Armando watched his supersized Teammate walk down the street to the motorcycle parking. He put on a flowered helmet that belonged to Libby and kick-started a red Vespa. He looked ridiculous, hunched over the handlebars, riding the lawnmower motor off into the night.

“He still hasn’t bought a truck? He’s been talking about it for weeks now,” Fredo barked.

Beale leaned forward and received his new beer, winking at the waitress. “Libby’s dad
gave
him a new truck for a wedding present. He doesn’t like the gas mileage.”

Armando leaned back in the chair and looked up at the stars. He wished his family problems were about trucks and gas mileage and a wife who wanted to get pregnant. He wondered if life would ever be that normal for him.

But good for Coop. If it can happen for you, buddy, maybe there’s hope for me after all.

Chapter 7

Next morning in the squad room Sam showed up in the same foul mood he’d had the night before. Gina watched him bang into chairs and bluster, as if every movement involved great effort or pain. He ignored his other UCDs, who in turn eyed him carefully, trying to avoid the bull in the china shop. She didn’t doubt he
was
feeling pain, and secretly relished the thought that Armando had done this to protect her.

Wanting to be prepared, she ran several scenarios over and over in her mind, deciding she was going to push back just as hard as he did. She thought the other guys would pile on if Sam started going after her, so she’d have to do it smart. If she got lucky, maybe Sam would go off on one of his legendary tirades in front of the brass. As she watched him bite his lower lip and devour the stubble growing just below, she knew he was close. Very close. It wouldn’t take much. Everyone in the room was watching him.

After the initial group chastisement for a mission almost blown, she and Sam were asked to stay behind and talk to their sergeant in private. The glass door was closed, but long looks from the bullpen didn’t give her any feeling of privacy.

Suck it up, Gina. You’re a big girl. Wanted to play in the big leagues? This is how it’s done.

Wasn’t going to be anything easy about this.

“There a problem here you two can’t handle?” Sergeant Kozinski had a walleye and Gina wasn’t sure whether he was looking at her or at Sam.

“No, sir. I’m good.” Sam spoke up first before Gina could respond. Like hell he was good. He hadn’t been good since the day after he’d charmed her into his bed. That Sam she never saw again after Night One.

“Gina?” Kozinski asked.

The quiet pause in the room highlighted Sam’s laborious breathing. She could tell he was suffering and had probably spent the night getting shit-faced. She was hoping Kozinski noted the bloodshot eyes, the stench of alcohol a fresh shower and a pint of aftershave couldn’t mask.

“Sir,” she began. She adjusted the little girl voice that wanted to come out first. “I don’t want Sam working on this case. This is my undercover detail. I’m the one in jeopardy. Wasn’t expecting him to do anything on this but run his snitches. Didn’t know until last night he was part of it.” She looked at her sergeant. “And I don’t like it one bit, sir.”

So far, so good.

Kozinski nodded. “It wasn’t something I approved. Sam used his own judgment, under the circumstances. Ton of Scorpions at the bar. Backup was needed. At least, that’s what I was told.”

“But
I
didn’t call for backup, sir, and it would have been
my
call to make.” Gina was going to keep tossing hooks out there, hoping one of them would snag Sam. “And even if I did, he’d be the
last
person I would request.”

Her jab began to work as she heard Sam’s quick inhale and the squeaking of his steel-toed lace-up boots.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are, Gina? A rookie pulling rank?” Sam was red-faced, and exactly the right kind of belligerent to make Gina’s case to the sergeant. She could have kissed him, she was so happy at the display.

“Hold it, Sam. Back off,” Kozinski warned.

“Maybe you better tell Kozinski about your little lap dance in the back seat with the SEAL?” Sam spewed, ignoring his sergeant.

“You have no idea what went on in the back seat, Sam. I’m working the case the best way I can.” Gina tried to sound calm, but she was feeling the ground falling out from under her.

“What’s a SEAL doing here? Someone talk to me,” Kozinski asked as he shifted his gaze from Gina to Sam. He finished eyeballing Gina. “Gina, what the hell’d you do?”

“Nothing, sir. I was playing the part I was asked to play. We noodled around a bit. Nothing I can’t handle. And we’re both adults. I’m single. So is he.” She glared at Sam and could see her gaze left its mark. She glanced down at his left hand and noticed his wedding ring was gone. “It won’t be a problem, sir.”

“This SEAL the brother of Mia Guzman?” Kozinski asked.

“Yessir,” Gina and Sam said in unison.

“Wish the hell he’d butt out. You best get unfriendly with him in a hurry, Gina.”

“Easier said than done, sir.” She could feel Sam’s intense stare. She could smell his anger brewing.

“Well, then your cover will be blown, Gina. And that will be on
you
,” her sergeant answered.

“Understood, sir.”

“Honestly, sir,” Sam began, “I think we should get another officer to do the detail. Gina has shown a total lack of objectivity.”

Gina’s blood boiled. Her few minutes of Heaven were being tarnished by an abusive ex-boyfriend who had about as much objectivity as a man dangling from a rope in a climbing accident.

“Sir, that was an unfair comment. Sam is the one who inserted himself and almost cost us the entire mission last night.
He
is the one who needs to be removed. He is jeopardizing all the efforts I’ve made so far.”

“Bullshit, Gina. You call it
effort
, screwing that SEAL—”

Sam’s voice carried into the bullpen. Several heads on the other side of the glass turned in their direction.

Kozinski muttered obscenities to the floor. “I’m going to have both your badges in about a minute. Jee-ZUS officers! Get a grip. I feel like I’m talking to a couple of kids who got in a fight on the playground in junior high.”

They both apologized. Gina worked hard not to smile. Victory was nearly in her grasp.

“If Sam stays on this case, then you won’t have to replace me. I quit.” Gina couldn’t believe she’d just said this. Her insides were cheering.

“I sure hope you know what the hell you’re doing, Gina.” Kozinski paused to look at Sam. “And I could say the same for you.”

Sam started to object and he suddenly faced the palm of the sergeant’s hand. “Save it. You’re off the case, Sam, except for working with the informants. You’ve done some damned good police work here. Let’s not screw with it, okay? I’m going to back Gina this time. You’re to physically stay out, unless otherwise requested.” Then he turned a wizened eye on Gina. “Young lady, you better not fuck this up.”

Sam left the office, without being granted permission, leaving the door open. Gina knew Kozinski was about as fair as they made them. He’d let Sam sulk off this time, but if there were a second time, Sam would get something that would show up in his file.

“I’m sorry, sir. You know we have a history, right? He doesn’t seem to want to let it be.” Gina felt perhaps the sergeant might have compassion for her under the circumstances.

She was wrong.

Kozinski had quietly closed the door to his office and stood, his hand on the doorknob. “Hell, Gina, the whole department knew about your torrid little romance. You honestly think I’m that dumb?”

“No, sir.”

“We’re all adults here. Takes two people to fuck each other’s brains out. You could have always said no.”

“But Sam was senior to me. At first I was worried—”

“God dammit, Gina. I wasn’t talking about
Sam
. I was talking about the SEAL.”

Armando and Kyle, LPO for Team 3, were waiting for Gunny to open the gym. The retired Gunnery Sergeant was getting slower and slower. He’d been the father confessor to all the young SEALs from Team 3, especially Kyle, the Team’s LPO, and his crew. Armando and Kyle had been inseparable all throughout the BUD/S training, and they’d deployed together three times.

Gunny had a hand in helping Kyle, Cooper and Fredo rescue Armando from the Mexican gang who had kidnapped him after abducting Mia. For this Armando would be eternally grateful.

Kyle had told him privately Gunny wasn’t in the best of health. He sported a scar going from his belly button to his neck where they’d opened him up and then stitched him closed. He’d refused further treatment for his lung cancer. Everyone knew the only reason the cancer wasn’t growing faster was because Gunny was just too damn ornery.