HOT SEAL Hero: HOT SEAL Team - Book 7 Page 2

  “You might want to get inside and tell him where to put stuff. Otherwise you’ll be unpacking dishes in the bathroom.”

  She could feel her face flaming. “Oh. Yes. Right.”

  Chloe rushed into the house. It wasn’t any better inside though—because now she had to tell a half-naked Navy SEAL where she wanted her stuff. If she could do that without continuing to blush, it’d be a miracle.

  Two

  Ryan didn’t know what the fuck he was doing because his head still throbbed and he felt like shit, but the idea of leaving Neo alone to help Chloe Cooper and her mover didn’t seem right.

  The Tylenol was starting to help, but he could use another bottle of water. And some food. A couple eggs and some bacon might be nice. Maybe a few pancakes too. Jesus, why had he drank so much? He didn’t usually let himself get shit-faced, but the brakes had come off yesterday—and then the wheels went too and he’d gotten plowed. Didn’t even fucking remember coming home last night.

  He shouldn’t have done it, but he’d gotten a message from his best friend in high school a couple of days ago that he hadn’t stopped thinking about. That was the only reason he’d hammered back the whiskey. Knowing that Kurt and Megan were expecting a baby had hit him hard. Megan had been his girl. They’d planned to marry someday, but when he’d left for the Navy, she hadn’t waited. She’d married Kurt instead.

  He no longer fucking cared—but hearing about the baby, well, that had scraped something raw inside him that he hadn’t known was there. And he was paying for it today, that’s for sure.

  He set the box on the floor in the small living room and turned to go and ask Chloe Cooper where she wanted her stuff when she came hustling inside. She was a pretty little thing, with long golden-brown hair, smoky eyes, and full pink lips he’d noticed when she nibbled them earlier. She wore a loose gray T-shirt with shorts and flip-flops. A pink logo on the shirt said Hair Affair.

  “What’s a hair affair?” he asked.

  She blinked. “It’s the salon I work at.”

  “You cut hair?”

  He thought she might be blushing. “Yes. I do makeup too. If your girlfriend needs hair and makeup for an event y’all might have coming up, we can handle that at Hair Affair.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Oh. Well.” She looked away and he felt a prickle of male satisfaction. She was interested in him. She looked back and he flexed his muscles just for the hell of it. She swallowed and hurriedly shifted her gaze again.

  “Where did you want that box, Chloe?”

  “Oh, yes, let me see.” She went over and read the writing on the side. “Right here is good. Thank you for your help, by the way.”

  He shoved a hand over his head, scratched the back of his neck, his elbow pointing up to the ceiling. Gave him the opportunity to flex more muscles. Kurt and Megan who? “Yeah, well it was our fault that guy quit. Least we could do.”

  “Honestly, I’m thankful he quit. He made me uncomfortable, but I just wanted my stuff so I was willing to put up with it until they were done. I wasn’t planning to tip him though.”

  His gut tightened. The dude had been a first class jackwad, and her recourse had been not to tip him. Which probably would have created new problems for her. That guy had been the type to overreact and do something rash.

  “Where’d you find this company?” There was a logo on the van, but he hadn’t heard of them before. Which didn’t mean much since every time he moved, the military packed his shit and he didn’t have to do anything except be there when it happened.

  “A client recommended them. They were cheap.” She shrugged. “You get what you pay for, I guess.”

  “Yeah, maybe so. But that shit was uncalled for. He may have quit, but I suggest you file a complaint with the company anyway.”

  She dropped her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”

  He knew better than to push her, though it infuriated him that she was uncertain about doing so. Still, wasn’t his circus or his monkeys.

  “If you need backup, just let me know. I’m here for you—Neo too.”

  “That’s really nice of you both.”

  As if saying his name conjured him, Neo came inside with two boxes stacked one on top of the other. Show off.

  “Hey, Chloe—where do you want this?”

  She went over to read the labels. “Oh, those are marked kitchen. Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  Ryan watched her follow Neo to the kitchen and show him where to put the boxes. “Hey, do you have a bottle of water or something?” Ryan asked. “If not, I’ll run across the street.”

  “Oh! Yes, of course.” She bustled over to a closet door and opened it. The pantry. On the floor, she had a basket with water bottles. She handed them each one, then grabbed one for herself. “Feel free to get more when you need it.”

  Ryan twisted the cap and swigged half the bottle. He might feel normal in an hour or two. He hoped so anyway. Chloe was looking at him with a puzzled expression. He’d moved one box and he’d asked for water.

  “Hangover,” he said with a grin.

  She grimaced. “Oh dear. Sorry about that. Are you sure you want to help me today?”

  Ryan liked her accent. She was from the south, but he didn’t know where. Yet. He’d ask before the day was over.

  Neo snorted. “He’ll live. It could always be worse.”

  “Come on, dude,” Ryan said. “Let’s get Chloe moved in.”

  They headed back outside. “You interested in her?” Neo asked as they walked toward the rear of the van.

  Was he? He thought of her pretty mouth, and her slender body in her T-shirt and shorts, and something flared in his belly. “Maybe. Are you?”

  Neo was quiet for a moment. “She’s pretty. But no. You can have her. Or try to.”

  Ryan glanced at his roomie. Neo hadn’t been interested in anybody in a while now. Not since Camel had gotten tangled up with Bailey Jones and her sister. Kayla Jones had a baby to take care of and plenty of bad memories to work through. But Neo had been more protective of her than Ryan had ever seen him be with any woman.

  Ryan hadn’t asked Neo about it though. There was something closed off about Neo, at least when it came to Kayla Jones, and Ryan knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer. So he didn’t pry. Besides, they all had secrets. A man’s secrets were his own business.

  “That’s good. I’d hate for you to be embarrassed when she chose me over you anyway,” he teased.

  Neo rolled his eyes. “If I were interested, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  Ryan hefted a box, muscles flexing. “Oh yeah? Who was smart enough not to put on a shirt?”

  Neo grabbed a box of his own. “Smart enough? Or too hungover to remember it?”

  If only he knew the half of it. But Ryan wasn’t telling his bud that he’d answered the door naked. He only hoped that wasn’t a strike against him in Chloe’s book.

  “If she likes what she sees, then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Neo rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. I’d like to get this done before the day’s over. I’ve got a date later.”

  Ryan stopped halfway to the house. Neo halted and turned to meet his gaze.

  “You have a date? Anybody I know?”

  Neo’s jaw flexed for a second. “Nope. Somebody I met when I was teaching that gun safety course at the range last week.”

  Ryan didn’t know what to make of that information. Maybe Neo wasn’t hung up on Kayla Jones after all. But he hadn’t gone out with anyone in the months since he’d met Kayla, or at least not anyone that Ryan knew of. And he thought he would have known since they shared a house—not to mention the time they spent watching each other’s backs on missions. They weren’t brothers in the genetic sense, but they were brothers. Brothers who fought together in service to their nation. They’d shared blood, sweat, and tears.

  But some things were still a mystery, apparently.

  “You’re surprised,�
� Neo said.

  “Well, yeah. I thought…” Ryan shrugged. “You and Kayla.”

  Something flickered in the depths of Neo’s eyes. “Don’t know why you’d think that. She’s a sweet kid, but what she needs is a guy with a steady nine-to-five who can help her raise Ana and give them both a stable life. That’s not me.”

  Ryan thought of Megan. He’d gone into the Navy because it was all he’d known, but he’d promised to come back for her. She said she’d wait. And then she hadn’t. She’d clearly preferred the steady nine-to-five guy. Kurt worked in his dad’s garage, which he was set to inherit, and went to night school to get a degree. He’d clearly been the better option.

  “Yeah, man,” Ryan said, “I get it.”

  The guys got into a rhythm, carrying boxes, stacking them in the appropriate room, and then moving her furniture into place. She didn’t have a ton of stuff, but it was enough that it still took a couple of hours to get it all inside. Chloe stood in the small house that was now much smaller thanks to her mix of antique and modern furniture. But she was happy. For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe again.

  She ran a hand over her mama’s antique French cabinet that took up one wall, her fingers tracing the familiar wood. Six months ago, she’d left Alabama in the middle of the night, everything she owned packed into a U-Haul, and drove until she got to Maryland and the cousin who’d promised to help her find work.

  Christopher was friends with Avery’s boyfriend, and since Avery needed another stylist, Chloe hadn’t been without a job for long. But she’d been living in a small furnished apartment over the salon and she’d put her stuff in storage until she could afford to rent something a bit bigger.

  But now she had her things again and she was looking forward to decorating the house and doing the cosmetic changes Avery wanted. If she was lucky, she’d get to live here for a year or two before Avery’s boyfriend talked her into selling.

  The guy from the moving company came inside with a clipboard. “Just need you to sign this paperwork, ma’am.”

  Chloe read everything over and signed. Then she handed him the forty dollars she’d kept in her pocket. “Thanks for staying and getting this done.”

  He frowned at the money. “I shouldn’t take it after what my partner did.”

  “No, take it. You did your job. He didn’t.”

  He nodded as he pocketed the cash. “Thank you, ma’am.” He took some forms from the clipboard and handed them to her. “If you have any problems, just call customer service.”

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded and walked out the door. Ryan came inside. He was still shirtless, and her heart bumped in her chest. It didn’t help that his muscles glistened with sweat. She’d have sworn she was over men after Travis, but apparently her body didn’t think that was the best plan.

  Except it was the best plan. She couldn’t risk letting her guard down for a moment. When you let your guard down, men wormed their way inside. And then they hurt you.

  “You need anything else, Chloe?” he asked, his face open and friendly. He didn’t look like a guy suffering from a hangover anymore, but for all she knew he was just good at hiding it. Travis had been good at hiding his drinking, too.

  “No, I think I have everything. Thanks again for your help. And Neo too—where is he?”

  “He went home.”

  She was alone with a large, partially clothed man in her house. Chloe’s heart sped just a little bit faster.

  Ryan jerked his finger over his shoulder. “I’d better head out too. Just wanted to see if you needed anything else.”

  “I appreciate all your help today. Can I pay you?” She didn’t have a lot of spare cash left, but she’d give it to him and then owe him some more if that’s what he wanted. She didn’t like being in debt to anyone.

  He looked somewhat offended. Or maybe she imagined it, but he shook his head. “Nope, you can’t pay me. Neo either. Helping out is what we do.”

  “How about dinner sometime? On me. I’ll cook for you guys. Or order pizza.” Now why in the heck was she inviting him—them—over for dinner? Was she crazy?

  He grinned. “I’ll take dinner, sure. Pizza is fine—unless you have a specialty you cook.”

  “I’m a Southern girl. Fried chicken is in my blood. Biscuits and gravy. Greens so flavorful you’ll sigh with appreciation, and the best strawberry pretzel salad you ever ate.”

  “I’m a California boy. Everything you just named sounds like my new favorite thing.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to cook for you one of these days. Neo too, of course.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be as happy as I am about all those things you named. But hey, what’s strawberry pretzel salad? I don’t think I ever heard of it before.”

  “It’s dessert. No lettuce involved, swear.”

  “Can’t wait to try it then.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Look, I know this is going to sound a bit forward, but if you’d like to exchange numbers, you can call me if you need anything.”

  Caution reared its head. “I, um, I don’t know…”

  “I understand, Chloe. But I’m not really a drinker, today’s hangover notwithstanding, and I won’t drunk text you at two a.m. Besides, if I did do something that stupid, I’d hope you’d block me and tell Neo to kick my ass next time you saw him. Which he would, I promise.”

  She argued with herself. She had to be careful, but she also felt like she could trust this guy. He wasn’t Travis. He and Neo were SEALs, and they lived across the street. If she felt unsafe at all, if there was a noise in the night or if the jerk mover from earlier today came back for some reason, she’d feel a lot better about having Ryan on speed dial than Christopher. Her cousin was a big dude, but a lot of his size was a layer of pudge over muscle. Not to mention he lived twenty miles away.

  “Okay, sure,” she said, making a decision. “But you send me a single dick pic and I’m putting it on Facebook for the world to see. I’ll find you and tag you too. You can explain it to your mama, your boss, and the world.”

  His expression was solemn. “I’d deserve it. For the record, I’ve never texted a dick pic to anyone. Never felt the need to. That’s what assholes do.”

  Chloe’s heart thumped as she told him her number. Then he texted her so she could capture his. She typed his name in, stopping after Ryan. “I didn’t get your last name before.”

  “Callahan,” he said.

  Ryan Callahan. She liked it.

  He let his gaze move over the cabinet she’d been fondling. “That’s a nice piece.”

  “It was my mother’s. I know it’s huge in this house, but I’m not ever getting rid of it. Maybe one day I’ll have a bigger place and it’ll work perfectly.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it works perfectly where it is. Sure it’s big, but it’s eye-catching.”

  “I think so too.”

  He smiled. “Okay, I’m outta here. Call or text if you need something. I’ll be home.”

  “I will.” She walked over to the door as he went outside, then stood there and watched him amble across the street and over to the house he shared with Neo. His jeans hung low on his hips and his muscles still glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. She could appreciate the sheer masculine beauty of him. But the instant he went inside, she breathed a long sigh and shook her head. Then she closed the door and locked it.

  Men were nothing but trouble.

  Three

  Chloe was streaming a British mystery on her laptop when her phone dinged. It was almost nine at night and she’d unpacked a few boxes, eaten a dinner of Chinese takeout, and now she was relaxing in bed with her laptop. She had a television, but she hadn’t hooked it up yet.

  Ryan and Neo had offered to do it for her, but she’d told them it could wait. A day or two, she’d said. She needed to get everything where she wanted it first. Make sure she had the space to fit the TV. It was either going in the living ro
om or her bedroom, but she didn’t know which yet.

  She picked up the phone and glanced at the text, half wondering if Ryan had texted her in spite of his assurance he wouldn’t do so. Or it could be her boss. Avery had already texted to ask how the move went, but maybe she’d forgotten something.

  Chloe picked up the phone. Her heart dived into the floor at the single word on the screen.

  Bitch.

  The phone number wasn’t one she knew. She stared at it, her heart throbbing, wondering if she should reply and tell this person to go fuck themselves—or maybe it was a wrong number. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

  Might also be the mover from today, the one who’d walked off the job. But did he have her number?

  Yeah, he did. They’d had to text her updates and verify her address before they’d arrived with the truck. Chloe gripped her phone, her teeth grinding together—and then she swiped the message to delete and blocked the number. She’d learned not to get hung up on crap like that.

  Still, the message made her uneasy. What if it was the mover? He knew where she lived and maybe he blamed her for his job loss, even though he’d walked off the job on his own.

  Or maybe it was Travis…

  No. It couldn’t be Travis. She’d changed her number, changed her name—well, her last name, though not legally—and changed everything about the Chloe he knew. She’d stopped dying her hair blond and put it back to her natural brown. She’d let it grow longer. She’d worn colored contacts for a while but she’d stopped doing that recently. And she’d changed her makeup, going more natural and less Barbie doll.

  There was no way Travis could find her. He’d threatened to track her down no matter where she went if she ever left him, but when would he ever find the time when he was so busy with his militia and their disaster prepping?

  He’d been a decent guy when she’d first met him, or so she’d thought, but he’d always been involved in that damned militia movement—not that she’d known at first. She’d taken much of what he’d said for typical Southern values—guns and freedom and patriotism and religion—but what Travis believed was much, much worse than simply believing in the right to bear arms or worship God.