“What the hell, Filly?” Wolf finally caught up to Colt Callaway as they finished a four-mile run.

“Don’t you know, Filly?” Abe asked, laughing and out of breath as he brought up the rear. “You’re supposed to let Wolf win.”

Both Abe and Wolf bent over at the waist and placed both hands on their knees while trying to catch their breath.

“Oh, that was a race?” Colt asked. “Had I known, I would have run faster.” He laughed, barely out of breath.

Colt was the newest member of the SEAL team stationed near San Diego, California with Matthew Steel—Wolf—and Christopher Powers—Abe. The other members—Cooke, Mozart, Benny, and Dude—had completed their mandatory four-mile run the previous day and were finishing up other training exercises before a group of them was leaving for a long weekend break. Not that they truly ever got a break. They could get a call at any time, and be sent on a mission for the US Navy, but for this weekend, the powers to be would have to call them in Virginia Beach. Their friend Tex—John Keegan—and his wife were meeting them there for a long weekend of relaxation and fun.

“Abe,” Wolf said. “Did you see that chick that Colt had a drink with last night?”

“Darla? Oh yeah, I saw her.” Abe grinned. “Legend has it that Darla’s been hanging out in that bar for years, trying to land herself a Navy SEAL.”

“It was one drink.” Colt laughed as he stretched his calves and hamstrings. He had no interest in Darla, the SEAL slayer that would give even Buffy the Vampire Slayer a run for her money. Besides, Colt had no interest in meeting a prospective girlfriend in a bar where girls came to “land themselves a SEAL.” On the other hand, he wouldn’t mind meeting someone that understood what he did for a living—someone he could come home to after a difficult mission.

“That’s not what we heard,” Wolf said and traded a grin with Abe.

Colt waved them off. “You two are just angry you couldn’t keep up with me today.” He started to turn and walk away when Wolf continued.

“My lovely bride says Darla plans to marry you.” Wolf and Abe laughed harder. “She also says that Darla thinks you’re the prettiest boy she’s ever seen. She wants you to do things to her that no other man has ever done. To ride her like a stallion.” Wolf and Abe made full-body gestures, a sort of sign language for the “things” Darla wanted.

“That’s right, pretty boy,” Abe taunted. “Apparently, you’ve fooled Darla. But don’t worry. You’re still our little filly.”

“Fuck off! Both of you!”

They laughed harder.

Wolf, Abe, and the rest of the unit had already decided that he was just too pretty to call by his real name, so they began calling him Filly. It was humiliating, but what was more humiliating was not being able to have a drink in a bar with a woman without his entire team making it into something that it definitely wasn’t. And if it had been something, Colt wouldn’t want his team talking about a woman he was interested in that way, no matter her past.

Abe punched Colt playfully in the shoulder. “You’re gonna have to learn to take a joke, Filly.”

He decided to let the Darla thing go. Colt was just in a weird place when it came to dating. “I will as soon as you both learn to lose a race. You’re both slow. And sore losers.”

“He’s right on both accounts,” Wolf agreed, then changed the subject. “On to more important matters. Ice texted. Says we’ve gotta be at the airport in two hours if we’re gonna make our flight.”

“Don’t remind me,” Abe whined. “Flying commercial is the worst.”

Wolf laughed. “And she already talked to Tex and Melody. They reserved a room at JK Shuckers Raw and Sports Bar for tomorrow night. They’re already in Virginia Beach and excited for us to join them.”

“That’s the UK-Duke game,” Colt said, referring to the Sweet Sixteen matchup of this year’s NCAA basketball tournament.

“Yes, but we better act like the women with us mean way more than some stupid game,” Abe said.

“I guess there are times when it’s nice to be single,” Colt said, but he didn’t really believe it.

Abe and Wolf traded another look, then laughed.

“Nah,” Wolf said. “My Ice will be rooting for the Cats all the way, and will be perfectly fine with me doing the same. And after the game? I’ll have someone warm to curl up next to in that big hotel bed.”

He had a point, Colt thought.

“Well, all I know,” Abe said, “is that Tex planned a good time for us, and we’re going to enjoy a nice, long weekend on the beach. Even if the temperatures are on the cool side, it’s still the beach.”

“What about tonight?” Colt asked. “We doing anything?”

“You’re on your own,” Abe said. “Alabama made me promise we’d have some time for just the two of us. I promised her a night out and a long walk on the beach.”

“Ice, too,” Wolf said. “We’ve got reservations.”

Colt nodded. He was actually more than okay with that. He liked and respected his new teammates, but he appreciated his alone time when he could get it.

* * *

Colt walked the beach that evening after an amazing seafood dinner of freshly caught grouper and peel-and-eat shrimp. Being March, the weather was unpredictable and had turned cold within hours after arriving. Snow was in the forecast for the next day.

With the time change from California to Virginia Beach, he was wired, but he was also thankful for the time alone.

While his teammates were off on their own with their wives or girlfriends, Colt headed up the boardwalk to look for a bar showing the March Madness games. He found a small sports bar right on the beach. Most people were sitting around high-top tables, drinking beer, and watching the games.

He found his own seat at the bar and ordered a local microbrew. The bartender served his beer about the same time a gaggle of women to his left erupted in laughter—women who didn’t look the least bit interested in basketball.

With his beer in hand, he turned and eyed the festive table. By the looks of the gifts being opened by a woman with a veil on her head, it was some sort of bachelorette party. Out of a white bag with white tissue, the woman pulled something red that looked like nothing more than a few of pieces of lace held together by even less elastic.

Colt lifted his brows as the girls screamed and laughed and talked about what the young bride was supposed to do with the tiny piece of lingerie. That was when his eyes found one particular woman. She was sitting at the opposite end of the table from the bride. And though she was smiling, she looked… uncomfortable. Sad, even.

He took a swig of beer, and for the next twenty minutes he shifted from watching Gonzaga playing North Carolina to the attractive blonde with a warm smile but sad eyes. Her face lit up briefly when Gonzaga pulled ahead, and her shoulders slumped when North Carolina took the lead again. Was she a Gonzaga fan, or just rooting against North Carolina?

When the bride-to-be was served a Blow Job shot, Colt almost felt sorry for her. She was obviously already drunk and didn’t need any more liquor.

He got caught up in the last few minutes of the game and didn’t even notice when the blonde with sad eyes sat beside him at the bar. When he finally did notice her, she was holding her wallet in front her.

The bartender approached. “Hey, Kate.”

“Hi, Barney.” She handed him a couple of hundred dollar bills. “Put this toward their tab.”

“Look at you, big spender.”

“Uh… no. Not from me. A gift from Trip.”

“You got it.” Barney took the money from her, and Colt found himself wondering who Trip was. A boyfriend, maybe? “Can I get you anything else?” Barney asked. “On the house.”

She—Kate—thought about it, and Colt stopped short of closing his eyes and praying she would stay and have a drink beside him. He had no idea where it had come from, but the desire to learn something about the woman sitting beside him was great.

“You know, I would love a Tito’s and cranberry with a lime.”

“How about you?” Barney pointed to Colt. “You want another?”

Colt lifted his bottle, checking the contents. “Sure. Thanks.” He shifted his body slightly in Kate’s direction. “Is that short for something?” Colt asked, then clarified. “Kate.”

She eyed him slowly, letting several beats pass before she answered. “No.”

Colt leaned back slightly at the cool response. “Well, Kate’s a lovely name.”

She lifted a single brow. When Barney placed the drink in front of her, she gently squeezed the lime into the vodka and cranberry juice.

“It’s not a lovely name?” Colt asked when Kate didn’t respond favorably.

“It’s an okay name, I suppose,” she said as if it wasn’t hers or she was indifferent to her own name.

“Are you from here?” Colt asked.

“Why?” She lifted her drink to her lips, not even turning to him this time.

Colt smiled. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t usually care to make casual conversation with people I don’t plan on seeing ever again, but I noticed you across the room, and for some reason I find myself wanting to know something about you.”

Kate paused mid-drink, then slowly sat her drink back on the bar. She pulled another couple of dollars from her wallet and threw them on the bar, tipping the bartender even though he’d said the drink was on the house. My best guess? She was a bartender or waitress and knew the importance of good tips.

“Thanks, Barney,” she called before grabbing her drink and moving to slide off the barstool.

“Was it something I said?” Colt asked.

“Kate!” a woman in a sequined top and pencil-thin jeans screamed as she threw an arm around Kate’s neck. “Where’d you go?” The woman slid a droopy-eyed gaze toward Colt. “What do we have here?” She looked from Colt to Kate. “Were you…” She dipped her chin, and grinned at Kate. “Kate Ward… were you just picking up on this man? Very nice,” she slurred, while nodding with a huge smile. “He’s hot,” she said directly to Kate in a loud whisper that everyone in a ten-foot radius could have heard.

This woman was obviously hammered. And Kate Ward–he made mental note of her name—was having a drink of her own. Colt couldn’t stop himself from wondering how they were all getting home.

Nope, he decided quickly, not his problem.

“Alli, my friend, you’re drunk,” Kate said. “Let me get you an Uber.” After setting her drink back on the bar, she pulled her phone from her back pocket and began pressing buttons.

The rest of the ladies at the table were standing and gathering the gifts for the bride.

“I’ll call a couple of cabs,” Barney said from behind the bar.

“Thanks, Barney,” Kate said while helping her friend back toward the table.

Another of the ladies stumbled as she stood. Colt set his beer on the bar and ran to steady her before she fell.

“Oh, dear,” the woman said. “It’s been a while since I’ve stood up.” She laughed. “I think I had one too many.”

Colt laughed, then looked over at Kate. “How about I help these lovely ladies get outside to their cabs?”

“Oh.” She looked surprised, but then realized that her friends were more drunk than she’d realized. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

After about ten minutes of the women gathering their things and making trips to the ladies’ room, Colt helped lead the partygoers out of the bar and to the parking lot. Once everyone was in a cab or an Uber, Kate and Colt were the only two left standing.

Colt eyed Kate more closely. She was wearing tight leather-like pants and a cropped jacket that she was trying to pull closed. It had gotten colder during the time he’d been in the bar. She wore a pair of three-inch heels that put her just below his chin, which was about the perfect height for him, he noted.

“Thank you for helping. I didn’t realize how much everyone had had to drink.” She laughed, and even though she had spoken tersely before, she wasn’t now. “They ought to feel that tomorrow.”

“Yet you seem fine.”

She eyed him. “Yeah… well… I didn’t have nearly as much as they did. Thanks again.”

She turned toward the parking lot instead of back toward the bar, and Colt still found himself panicking slightly, which was highly unusual for him. She was beautiful, there was no question about that, and it was cute the way she had been keeping tabs on the game while pretending to be involved with the bachelorette party. But there was something else about her that drew him in. At first he had thought it was the sadness in her eyes, but there was more, hidden just under the surface. And he was determined to find out what it was.

“You wouldn’t want to go back in and finish that drink, would you?”

She turned, hesitated for a few beats. A breeze picked up her blonde hair and blew it across her face.

“One drink,” he said, hoping to persuade her.

She looked out toward the parking lot, then back at me. Colt could see the uncertainty on her face and the internal argument she was having with herself.

“Fine,” she finally said. “Under one condition.”

“Name it,” Colt said.

“We talk about nothing personal. And this goes no further than one drink.”

Colt considered the fact that he was only in Virginia Beach for a few days and the fact that he was in no position to start a relationship with someone living clear across the country and who probably had no clue what it truly meant that he was a SEAL. “Fine. Nothing personal.” But he couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t go beyond one drink.