Hot SEAL, Labor Day by Cynthia D’Alba
Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor
A SEALs in Paradise Novel
When a Navy SEAL runs into an obstacle, he climbs over it, under it, around it, or destroys it. So what if it’s a woman?
Master Chief Benjamin Blackwell has it all. Adventure, good looks, skills, and women. His life is perfect and he has no intention of changing a thing. Until her.
Holly Maxwell is a sexy woman unlike anyone he’s met before. A widow for ten years, she’s happy with her life even with the trials of raising a pre-teen daughter, and being the only girl in a nosy, boisterous family of Coronado cops.
But what makes her so inexplicable to this Navy SEAL is her total lack of interest in him.
Copyright © 2020 Cynthia D’Alba
All rights reserved — Riante, Inc.
“What can I get you ladies?” the server asked as she set cardboard coasters on the table.
“I’ve got this,” Bethany said. “Bring us one, no wait, two pitchers of margaritas-on -the-rocks, and two tequila shots each.”
“Are you kidding me?” Holly asked. “Shots?”
Bethany waved her off. “Make that Herradura Silver for those shots.”
“You got it,” the woman said. “My name’s Liz. Be back.”
The woman walked toward the bar to place the order.
“First, shots?” Holly asked. “And second, dropping tequila names?”
Bethany laughed. “Trust me. This is sipping tequila. You’ll love it. Besides, it’s our first night out as family sisters. We are cel-e-brat-ting.”
“Remember, I’m driving,” Holly said.
“No problem. We’ll get you home if you can’t drive.”
Liz returned. “Okay, ladies. Here we go. Two pitchers of margaritas-on-the-rocks and six shots of Herradura Silver.” She set empty margarita glasses on the table. “What else can I get for you?”
“I think we’re good,” Bethany said. She picked up the pitcher and filled each glass. Then she lifted hers in a toast. “To having the sisters I’ve always wanted in my life.”
“Awww,” Holly said and fake sniffed. She clinked her glass to Bethany’s.
“You say that now,” Diana joked. “Just wait until we drop the boys at your house for the weekend. Then, let’s hear what you have to say about family.”
The three women toasted with laughter and drank.
That was only the first toast. For the next hour, every freshly poured drink started a new round of toasts. As Bethany had warned, Holly found that the tequila shots slid down her throat like melted butter. Smooth and tasty.
The first round of pitchers and shots lasted almost an hour. Diana offered to buy the next round. After a serious discussion, the ladies decided that changing drinks would be a mistake, so they placed an order for two more pitchers of fresh margaritas. However, Holly suggested—and both women agreed—that there should be nine shots of tequila this time….three for each of them.
They had just toasted to the moon landing in the sixties when Bethany whistled. “Wow. Remember how I said I’d do Tuck-the-bartender for one-hundred K? Well, check out what just walked in the door. I think I’m going to melt off my seat.”
Diana followed Bethany’s gaze and moaned. “Oh, yeah. He is something. I’m thinking Navy. Maybe SEAL. Patrick would kick my ass for saying this, but Patrick who? That guy is totally yummy.”
Facing the bar put Holly’s back toward the door. She laughed at her tablemates. “Seriously? No guy looks that good.” She turned in her seat and almost dropped her drink in her lap. She whipped back around. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Bethany asked. She studied the guy closer. “Hey, Diana. Does that guy look about six-three?”
“I’d say so.”
“Silver hair. Body to die for?”
“Yep,” Diana said. “Can’t see his eye color, but I’m guessing blue. What about you, Holly?”
“Don’t call him over here,” Holly said.
“Ben!” Bethany yelled. “Ben. Over here.” She giggled. “He’s coming this way. You were right, Holly. He’s totally luscious.”
Holly sprang from her chair and rushed to head him off. When she reached him, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close in hug.
“Please play along,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s a long story, and I don’t have time to explain, but we’re dating. Please.”