SEAL's Secret: A Secret Baby Military Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  “Chapter 1”

  “Chapter 2”

  “Chapter 3”

  “Chapter 4”

  “Chapter 5”

  “Chapter 6”

  “Chapter 7”

  “Chapter 8”

  “Chapter 9”

  “Chapter 10”

  “Chapter 11”

  “Chapter 12”

  “Chapter 13”

  “Chapter 14”

  “Chapter 15”

  “Chapter 16”

  “Chapter 17”

  “Chapter 18 — Epilogue”

  Free Bonus — Our mailing list

  More from Virginia and Ruby: “Royal Tryst”

  About the Authors

  SEAL’s Secret: A Secret Baby Military Romance

  Copyright 2017 Ruby Steele & Virginia Sexton. All right reserved.

  Kindle Edition

  All characters depicted are over the age of 18.

  This book may not be reproduced in any form by any means, without the author’s permission, except for reviewers, who may quote short excerpts.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and action come from the authors’ imaginations and presented as fiction. Any resemblance to real individuals, alive or deceased, as well as events or places, is completely coincidental.

  This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Virginia Sexton and Ruby Steele have mailing lists, where you can find out news about all their upcoming titles! Sign up by CLICKING HERE or use this link: http://signup.sugarnvice.com/joinus

  You can also visit Virginia’s website or her Facebook page!

  A sneak peek inside…

  She giggles a little as I pour her a glass of wine. “You — Commander Dean — have fluffy slippers?”

  I pour myself a nice, tall glass next and keep a completely stoic face as I confess, “Donald Duck. I love the guy. I may or may not have gotten a tattoo of him on my ass one very drunken night in Tokyo.”

  She snorts out a laugh and cups her hand to her chin just in case she spurts out wine. “I have to see that.”

  I straighten up and begin to unhitch my belt. “He’s got an anchor and a cigar and everything.”

  She turns the most intense shade of red. “Oh my God, no. It’s a matter of speech. I don’t want to see your ass.”

  I highly doubt that. I take a step to the side and look out into the spacious living room. Jenna is passed out on the couch, exhausted and covered with a fleece blanket. I finish unbuckling my belt and yank my jeans down to my ankles, exposing my olive green, government-issue boxer briefs. I kick my heels out of the jean’s legs as I grab both my glass and the bottle of wine. “I’m offended. I have a very nice ass. Come on, there’s a Jacuzzi out back, and I had the landlord warm it up before we got here.”

  I don’t give her a chance to protest as I turn before I can’t hide my smirk anymore. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t hide something. Casey’s eyes were glued to my package as soon as I yanked my pants down. That kind of attention from a hot young thing like her is enough to get any guy a little stiff. Something else I can’t hide — I feel my boxer briefs expanding in the front. I hastily open the sliding glass door and set my drink down on the deck so I can rip my T-shirt over my head. The tub is recessed into the deck so all I have to do is step down, and within seconds, I’m sinking into the warm water — pausing for a moment to let my balls adjust to the heat.

  I look back to the door, and she’s standing there, her gaze drifting between me and back into the living room. I try to put her at ease. “She’s passed out, and you’re just getting in a Jacuzzi tub — that’s all.”

  “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

  “Neither do I. Just strip down. We’re both adults.”

  I have to admit, she looks a little perturbed as well as a little curious. “I’m well aware we are both adults.”

  I splash at the water. “Come on. Nice and warm. I’ll turn on the jets.”

  She takes a big breath, completely filling her lungs and holds it there for just a moment. In one big rush, she lets all the air out and dips to put her wine glass down. Victory! She sashays her hips in the most delectable way while shimmying out of her jeans. Hastily, she removes her top is well, and I barely get a good glimpse of her plain panties and bra before she’s in the water up to her neck.

  She seems a little more comfortable as a soon as she has the added cover of the bubbles disturbing the water’s surface.

  Also by Virginia Sexton

  “Cherry Pie”

  “Winning Bid”

  “His Virgin Payback”

  “His Virgin Actress”

  “His Virgin Escort”

  “His Virgin Heiress”

  Also by Ruby Steele

  “Maid to Misbehave”

  “Her Boss’ Package”

  “Teacher’s Bet”

  “Hosed”

  Table of Contents

  “Chapter 1”

  “Chapter 2”

  “Chapter 3”

  “Chapter 4”

  “Chapter 5”

  “Chapter 6”

  “Chapter 7”

  “Chapter 8”

  “Chapter 9”

  “Chapter 10”

  “Chapter 11”

  “Chapter 12”

  “Chapter 13”

  “Chapter 14”

  “Chapter 15”

  “Chapter 16”

  “Chapter 17”

  “Chapter 18 — Epilogue”

  Free Bonus — Our mailing list

  More from Virginia and Ruby: “Royal Tryst”

  About the Authors

  One nice thing about flying into these a small, hometown airports is how you can practically walk off the plane, grab your bags, and just get into a car. And I don’t have much, so I can skip the grabbing of the bag. No being herded along corridors or roped-off lines. I must admit, though, the uniform often warrants a wave through security with something resembling a pleasant smile even in LA or New York.

  No lines in my hometown’s little two-runway airport. Instead, I walk across the tarmac in the departure zone along with the rest of the disembarking travelers. I stop to shake a couple of hands and receive a few gracious thank you for serving compliments. Some guys make it a point not to travel in uniform for the sole purpose of avoiding the added attention. I figure it’s the closest a lot of these folks get to a war zone, and they need to see that there are still men and women—fellow citizens—out there, thousands of miles away. And, it’s always good to see the genuine gratitude in their eyes.

  I set my sights on the automatic sliding door entrance welcoming the rest of the travelers into the main body of the airport. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath of Idaho air. It smells of pine trees and rich dirt, not hot sand and diesel fuel. Jet fuel, maybe—at the moment, at least—but it also smells like home. Even though the noise of a spooling jet engine fills the air, it seems quiet. I’m used to ceaseless action. Men coming and going at all hours of the night. Helicopters, Humvees, blaring sirens, and the noise of thousands of adrenaline-packed young men jammed into a small forward operating base in the middle of nowhere.

  The silence of home always startles me. It makes me restless. Like this is no longer the place I belong. I know they’re in there waiting for me. I had asked for just immediate family, and I know they’ll respect my wishes. I’ve come home on leave often enough that they know I get overwhelmed with too many people all at once.

  I prepare myself to see well-loved faces and hug fam
ily members I haven’t seen for months on end. I let my mind drift to the simple joys I’m about to indulge in. Not just the over-exuberant hug from my little sister or the rapid-fire kisses from my mother. Lasagna — the way only Mom can make it—with a double dose of large curd cottage cheese and ricotta. My king-size bed with a pillow-top mattress and Egyptian cotton sheets. Air-conditioning that permeates the entire house with blissful coolness that makes me pull the covers tighter—and that doesn’t rattle in the window like a Humvee with a broken suspension. Getting a room at a luxury hotel room with a Jacuzzi tub, ordering in cheesecake for breakfast, and a whole pot of coffee that hasn’t been sitting on the burner for forty-eight hours straight.

  The doors swoosh open, and that glorious air-conditioning I was just getting a wet dream over hits me full on the face. It’s an all-embracing chill, and it puts a smile on my face. It makes me think of Mom’s ice-cold pitcher of water she keeps in the fridge—the one with lemon slices and just a hint of sugar. The silence is abruptly dispelled by an earthshattering eruption. It lifts my heart before I see its source, because I could place it in a sandstorm—a high-pitched squeaking shriek that can come from no other than my little sister. It hasn’t changed since she was a freshman cheerleader with pom poms.

  I barely have time to open my eyes from my immersion in the air conditioning before her lithe little form is flying through the air. I fling my arms up in just enough time to wrap them around her as she hits me midair and square in the chest. She’s such a little thing, I don’t even have to take a step back to absorb the blow. Her arms go around my neck, and Mom is next, cupping my face in both her hands and planting kiss after kiss after kiss on my cheeks and chin and forehead. Pretty sure she got a couple on the nose as well. That must be Dad slapping me on the back, and I can see my little sister’s husband and his brother standing back to wait their turn.

  I let Kelly down, and she’s practically jumping as soon as her feet touch the floor, bouncing in little bobs — a perpetual font of motion. Her husband grabs my bag — which I adamantly protest against — but he just shakes my hand with a warm but tight smile and begins toward the car. Never much of a talker, that one.

  It’s a small group, but my chest already begins to tighten at the unfamiliar hailstorm of greetings and questions and tidbits of information flung haphazardly my way. I have a hard time catching any one complete thought coming from either my sister or mother, my father only adding to the confusion as his stentorian voice pokes in to correct the details. Something about economy-sized hamburger patties and a delivery of firewood.

  But I do catch one thing. Kelly claps her hands. “They’re all going to be so happy to see you.”

  I’m finally able to fix my attention. “All? Who’s all?”

  This huge, excited smile comes over her face. “Everyone! The camping trip. You’ve always said how awesome it would be to get the whole family together and everyone from high school and just have this massive camping trip full of activities and fishing and beers around the campfire. We put it all together for you, Toby.” She pauses with wide eyes searching mine. “Surprise!”

  Everyone? Always? I hadn’t always said I wanted to get everyone together. That’s the kind of stuff I said my senior year of high school and the first year or two I was in the military — when I was still training and hadn’t really been in the shit. I’m dead certain I hadn’t said anything like that in the past ten years at least. One of the things that makes coming home so hard. To my little sister and mother, I’m Toby — the high school running back and that kid who was so excited to get his first car. They don’t know Lieutenant Commander Tobias Dean, the Navy officer and member of SEAL Team Three, veteran of five combat tours — a man who just wants to come home and rest.

  A weak smile comes over my lips. “You’ve put it all together?”

  Kelly bounces from the ball of one foot to the other, a conspiratorial grin taking over her countenance. “Dad, Mom, and I have been working on it for the last couple of months. We have everything set up. You don’t need to do a thing. Just show up. We have a tent for you and everything.”

  My king-size bed, pillow-top mattress, and Egyptian cotton sheets — I mourn for you already. “How long is this little camping endeavor of ours going to last?”

  She’s practically bubbling over. “Weeks, if you want! We know you have a whole month off, and we know you’ve always liked roughing it and doing all that nasty stuff like gutting fish — so we have everything arranged. You just get to kick back and enjoy the great outdoors.”

  I look from face to face, seeing the contained pleasure at the trap they have so artfully sprung. They would call it a surprise. God bless their hearts, they actually think I want to come home and camp. I used to like roughing it before it became my job. Before I had to eat tree bark to survive. Now I would like nothing more than to get fitted for a tuxedo, eat caviar, and go to an opera or something — something that says culture and extravagance and leisure. Something that has nothing to do with sleeping on the ground and not showering for days. Gutting fish is the farthest thing from my mind, but I can’t tell them that. Not when they’re looking at me like that — like the next words that come out of my mouth will either crush them or send them to the moon.

  I focus on that — how much they love me and how much work must have gone into getting everyone — whoever that is — to come see me in what they identify as the epitome of what I would desire. They truly love me and have gone to great lengths, and that puts a smile on my face. “It sounds wonderful. When do we start?”

  Father finally steps forward and takes control of the conversation, slinging his arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the exit. “Let’s get you home and get you some of Mom’s lasagna. You can sleep in your own bed for a night, and then we’ll get started on the camping trip of a lifetime.”

  Without my bag, I have nothing to do with my hands, and so I shove them into my pockets. Coming home is never what I expect it to be. I have learned over the years to temper my expectations — whether it be because a girlfriend is now an ex-girlfriend or because the family dog died in my absence. Life always goes on without me. Perhaps, I just need to look on the bright side of this. I have a lot of family and friends coming to rally around me, and when I go back, I’ll appreciate the camping trip of a lifetime. It will be something fun to look back on. Really, it will.

  The waiter sets down the little black book containing our lunch check. I reach for it, but the waiter — they always seem to know — places that little book at Kelly’s elbow, not near mine or even in the center. She gives me this little sardonic smile and furls her brow at me. “I’m the one who asked you to come meet me. I pay.”

  I can’t help the feeling of guilt. “You always pay. At least let me pick up my half of the bill.”

  She just waves me off. “I like paying. Lord knows, since Toby made me his property manager, Steven and I are not exactly hurting.”

  “It’s fantastic that he put you in that position after you got your degree. But, you studied your ass off, and you earned it.”

  Kelly slips a platinum card into its slot on the little black book and places it back on the edge of the table. “Don’t try to sugarcoat things for me. No way in hell any other company would give a recent graduate a chance like this. It’s nepotism, plain and simple, but I’ll take it.”

  “Well, it’s not like he can be here working his properties. He’s completely out of contact for weeks at a time. He needs someone he can trust, and who can he trust better than his little sister?”

  “Yeah, I can see how someone could take big-time advantage of him. He goes on complete blackout when he’s on missions — sometimes decisions can’t wait. I mean, I understand why he does it. He’s always been so protective, and joining the military was just an extension of that. And then, he always has to be the best, so going special forces was the obvious route.”

  Not just any special forces. The most elite in the world. Ever since he joined
up years and years ago, I admired Tobias for it. So many young men in his position — the heir of a small family business — would have stayed home and brought in the easy money. Tobias didn’t just follow his heart and join up with the military, he also helped his father run the business from afar, turning it from a small, family-owned venture into a multimillion conglomerate of real estate and stock holdings.

  We both sit in silence for a moment as the waiter picks up the little black book and carries away Kelly’s credit card. My best friend picks up her coffee cup and takes a small sip, eyeing me over the rim. “You can come and say hi — he’ll remember you.”

  I can’t help a little laugh. “No. For one, that was a long time ago. And, he’s probably had enough of people already. My cousin, Jennifer, is in the Marines, and she always stops at my house to decompress from all the people. It’s stressful — all the attention. It’s such a radical change from what they’re used to.”

  Kelly smiles at the waiter as he discreetly slips the little book back onto the table top. She averts her eyes down to the pen where she hesitates for a moment as she figures the tip and then signs her name. “Then at least promise to come camping. Mom and I have spent so much time putting everything together. The property is huge, and were going to have all sorts of things for Jenna to do.”

  I take a moment to consider. It’s not like Jenna and I get to get out and do stuff like this much. Camping. Sounds quaint. “Maybe a couple days. I need to work a bit late on Friday, but I might be able to show up just enough time to set up a tent.”

  Kelly purses her lips at me. “Honey, you work too hard. You need to give yourself a break.”

  I purse my lips right back at her, making sure she can hear the lighthearted tone in my voice. “Not all of us have rich big brothers to take care of us. Being a single mom is expensive. Not to mention that Jenna is really getting serious about gymnastics, and you wouldn’t believe the club fees.”

  “Another good reason for you to come and relax for just a night or two.” She reaches over and takes my hand, making me look her intently in the eye. “Come camping. We’ll have all the food prepared. You don’t have to bring anything. We can even get a tent for you. You’re going to work yourself to death, honey. Take a breather.”