Tawny Weber - A SEAL's Secret

“Not going to happen,” he said, as much to himself as to his friend. “I’m leaving at first light for Virginia Beach to report to DEVGRU screening, remember.”

DEVGRU, the Navy’s counter-terrorism group, was the elite of the elite. Reporting to Naval Special Warfare Command, the unit often worked with the CIA and always operated in the dark. The invitation to screen was an honor, regardless of whether Mitch made it through training—or even chose to try.

He gave a silent groan as Livi shifted. She was grabbing her ankles now, her face pressed to her knees and her butt temptingly high in the air.

Enticement like this, he’d never seen in his life. This kind of enticement made a man think twice about assignments, regret deployments.

Mitch firmed his jaw—might as well, since everything else had firmed up—and shook his head. That wasn’t going to happen to him. His old man had done that. Not that Mitch didn’t think his mother was pretty awesome, because he did. But if his grandfather, the Admiral, had pointed it out once, he’d pointed it out a million times. If Thomas Donovan had put his career ahead of his personal life, he’d have been a vice admiral instead of a captain.

Of course, the old man always responded by reminding his father that if he’d been as career-obsessed as he, he wouldn’t have his son. So Mitch couldn’t fault the decision too much.

But that didn’t mean he was going to follow it.

“You know, Irish, she’s damned good. She might actually take you.” Romeo grinned at the crowd gathering around. Tessa waved her hand high in the air, calling for the attention of anyone who hadn’t already wandered over. “It’s going to be painful when she does, too. There’s gotta be three teams here to bear witness. Good thing it’s not our platoon.”

He and Romeo usually deployed on the east coast. They were only in Coronado for the next few months to take part in a new training program. But the SEALs were a small family. What one platoon knew, the others would soon know, too. Nobody ferreted out secrets like SEALs.

Mitch wasn’t worried. He didn’t lose.

“What’s going on here?” a loud voice called out.

Greetings and exclamations flew through the room as Roz Evans appeared, a tray of sandwiches in each hand and bats hanging from her ears. This was her one concession to Halloween, Mitch knew, since the foot-tall blue hair was everyday wear.

“I hear you boys are causing a ruckus,” she said a couple minutes later, after she’d handed off the sandwiches.

“Would I do that?” Mitch asked, offering her his most charming smile.

“You might not,” she acknowledged before tilting her head at Romeo. “But this one would.”

“Only because you keep turning me down.”

Livi and Tessa arrived just in time to hear Gabriel’s declaration. Tessa’s frown was as deep as Livi’s smile was bright.

“You know these guys?” Livi asked, handing Roz a beer.

“Darlin’, when will you learn? I know everybody.”

“You’ll play ref for our little contest, won’t you?” Tessa asked.

“Sure thing. I got the deets on the contest when I came in.” She pointed to the center of the room. She didn’t have to say another word before four guys were there moving tables and chairs to clear a wide circle. “Who’s covering the bet?”

“That’d be me.” Wearing a T-shirt with the face of the Cookie Monster on it, Bad Ass Brody Lane sauntered over with a fistful of cash. “Who’re you going with, Roz?”

“Donovan, I know you’re a kick-ass SEAL, and usually I’d put all my money on you,” she said, pulling a few bills out of her pocket and counting twenty into Bad Ass’s waiting hand. “But all things considered, I’m gonna have to back my girl.”

“You got this,” Brody assured him.

More than ready to find out, Mitch got to his feet.

“Shall we?” he suggested, waving his hand to indicate the ring .

Livi took a deep breath that gave a first-rate demonstration of the wonders of Lycra and did a little stretching of Mitch’s libido, too. She walked just a step ahead, giving him an up-close and excellent view of her butt.

Mitch had been competing most of his life. Against others, against himself, against the enemy.

He’d never competed against temptation, though.

This was going to be interesting.

3

“ARE YOU SURE about this?” Mitch asked Livi.

She hadn’t volunteered for this little competition. More like she’d been railroaded. So he figured it was only fair to give her an out.

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said quietly. “How about you?”

Damn, she was cute with that challenging look in her eyes and her chin in the air. He’d take it easy, like he did with the kids he sometimes coached, so she felt good about the results.

“Standard push-ups?” Roz asked, accepting Cade Sullivan’s hand and stepping onto a chair for prime referee viewing.

“For the queen,” Gabriel decided. “Irish does military-style.”

“I’m sure glad I have you making these decisions for me,” Mitch told his friend.

“I figure you’d be lost without me.” Romeo smacked him on the back then stepped out of the circle. “I’ll count for Irish.”

“Let’s keep it a little more impartial than that,” Roz suggested. She scanned the crowd. “Cade, you count for Mitch and Eden can count for Livi.”

Commander Cade Sullivan moved in front of Mitch with a wink and a grin. Wearing puppy-dog ears as a nod to Halloween, the guy had a rep as one of the toughest BUD/S instructors to hit SEAL training.

His wife scooped up the tail of her cat costume and took a similar position on the other side of Roz’s chair. At the last minute she rushed forward to give Livi a quick hug.

“No hug for me?” Mitch asked Cade.

“You’re not pretty enough,” Sullivan dismissed. “Now drop and give me fifty.”

“Take your positions,” Roz called out, holding up her cell phone. “One minute on the clock.”

Livi dropped to the floor and assumed the plank position. Mitch followed suit, angling himself so he could watch her. Keeping an eye on the competition was just smart thinking. Besides, when his gaze shifted to the shadowed valley between her breasts, the view was damned nice.

“And...” Roz gave a shrill whistle. “Go.”

Hands shoulder-width apart, elbows tucked against his body, Mitch went. Down, up. Down, up. He didn’t count. He just let his body do its job. Instantly in rhythm, he glanced at Livi.

She was staring right at him as she pumped up and down.

“I could do this all night,” she murmured. “How about you?”

Mitch grinned.

“Did you know that push-ups are one of the best exercises you can do for your sex life?” she asked, her voice so low that given their position on the floor, he doubted anybody in the cheering crowd had heard her.

But he had.

His body stiffened in reaction. Good thing he was wearing jeans instead of sweatpants. Otherwise his push-ups would have turned into pole vaults.

“It’s all about the core,” Livi continued, her words spaced with her breathing. “You strengthen those core muscles and yowza. You know I work with strippers, right? The things they tell me a good core can do are pretty amazing.”

Shit.

He missed a beat, his elbow locking. He had to do the next push-up one-armed to find his rhythm again.

He’d rappelled off a cliff in a shower of bullets.

He’d shot, sniper-style, dangling from a helicopter while militants targeted it with IEDs.

He’d built his reputation on his ability to focus. To go after what he wanted, ignoring any and all distractions.

“Thirty seconds.”

Mitch ripped his gaze from the view of Livi’s arms, with their perfectly rounded muscles bunching and stretching. Her strength was almost as much a turn-on as her gorgeous body.