CHAPTER TWO
Ashley’s brother Clark was standing near the baggage claim at the Sarasota airport.
No, strike that. It was Ashley’s brother Clark and his friend Kenneth. They were both in Sarasota.
Today, Clark’s hair was Spike-from-Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer white. Complete with dark roots. Since his blue-hair phase, he’d gone purple, then green—that didn’t last because it completely didn’t work with his pale skin tone and gray eyes—and even Little Orphan Annie red. Without the curls, thank goodness.
And despite Clark’s dyed-haired rebellion against their too-strict, too-conservative father, he was here. To… what? Ashley wasn’t sure.
“If you’ve come to talk me out of this,” she started as she approached him.
But Clark’s surprise at seeing her was genuine. Surprise that turned to immediate dismay. “Ah, fuh—”
She stopped him. “Let me guess. Dad signed you and Kenneth up for a cool week-long program at a camp just south of Sarasota, run by a former Navy SEAL. Without telling you that his real intention was for you to babysit me while I took the same course. God, I knew I shouldn’t’ve mentioned it to him…” She looked at Kenneth. “Hey, Kenneth.”
“Nice to see you, Ashley.” Kenneth, tall and pale and skinny, with reddish hair and brown eyes hidden behind the slightly smudged lenses of stylishly black-framed glasses, hailed from the UK and was terminally polite.
“No, it’s not,” Ash said. “Neither you, nor Clark, nor I think that this is even remotely nice.”
“Yes, of course that’s true,” Kenneth agreed. “But… You are looking… lovely.”
“She looks like crap,” her brother countered. “You sleeping?”
“Not much, not lately,” Ashley informed him crisply. “I don’t suppose I can talk you into just… not showing up? For the camp thing? Maybe go somewhere else for spring break…?”
But she could see in Clark’s eyes that he actually wanted to do it. It made sense. They both needed help in the backbone-growing department.
“Never mind. It’s okay,” she continued. “Just promise you won’t actually report back to Dad.”
“Look at it this way,” Kenneth spoke up, attempting to bright-side things. “In order to keep tabs on you, he might’ve hired some total stranger, and you would never have known…” His voice trailed off as he realized that Ashley and Clark’s father had done exactly that in the past. Her ex, Brad, had been an employee of their father’s—promised a partnership in the firm if he could convince Ashley to marry him.
“Sorry,” Kenneth muttered, because, yes, that was still humiliating on every level.
“This was supposed to be my birthday present,” Clark told Ashley. “I mean, I thought it was. I mean, I know I shouldn’t’ve, because… Dad, right? Nothing comes for free.”
“You know what?” Ashley interrupted him, looking from Clark to Kenneth and back. “This is going to be fun. We are going to have fun. Fuck Dad.”
“Dude!” Clark laughed his surprise. Ashley did not drop F-bombs often.
“You’ll report back to him,” Ash continued as the luggage carousel lurched to life, “and by you, I mean, I’ll borrow your phone, and text him for you. I can’t wait until he finds out about my torrid affair with Kenneth.”
Clark laughed as Kenneth choked. “What?”
“I know you’re young,” Ashley said, “but it was meant to be.” As Kenneth continued to cough, she patted him on the back as she laughed. “Relax, I’m just kidding, you’re practically my brother. Although you have to admit, Dad would be appalled.”
* * *
The hot blonde traveling with her own private two-man boy band laughed, and again caught Jim’s eye.
She was pretty, if you were into angels or fairy princesses—with her blond hair cut strikingly short, her pale blue eyes, and her porcelain doll complexion. She was dressed down in jeans and a blue T-shirt, running shoes on her feet—but her clothes looked new and slightly uncomfortable.
As Jim watched, her teenaged companions wrestled a giant purple suitcase off of Sarasota Airport’s baggage claim conveyor belt, along with a smaller red-plaid one. The fairy princess already had a wheeled carry-on bag, so the two boys manhandled her larger ones as she pointed toward the restrooms and they all moved off in that direction.
It was then that Dunk came in from the sliding doors that led to the parking lot. The former SEAL chief was looking healthy and relaxed—his salt-and-pepper hair was longer than he’d ever worn it in the Teams, curling around his ears. His face was tanned and he kept his wraparound shades on. He wore a SEAL Team Two T-shirt over cargo shorts—one leg sinewy with a flip-flop on his foot, the other carbon fiber with a running blade at the end.
He spotted Jim and grinned as he shouted across the terminal. “Yo, asshole, how ya doing?”
Jim laughed as he went to shake the man’s hand. “Asshole? That’s nice, considering I’m here to save you.”
“I know, and thank you.” Dunk pulled him in for a hug disguised as a chest bump. “I’m just celebrating my freedom as a civilian. I’ve said sir enough for a lifetime, so I’m playing with all possible alternatives.”
Jim laughed again. “You look good.”
“You, my friend, look like shit on a stick. Knees hurting bad, huh?”
“I’ll live.”
Dunk got serious. “That doesn’t cut it, man. You can’t just live with the hand you’re dealt, you gotta live well.” But then he grinned again. “You know, leaving the Teams doesn’t have to mean that your best days are over. That’s just a myth.”
Jim felt his hackles rise. “Yeah, well, I’m not ready to leave the Teams yet. This is just a break while the doctors figure out which operation will fix my shit for good.”
Dunk gave him a measured look. “We all leave, eventually. One way or another. I’m just saying it doesn’t have to suck. I finally did some of that traveling I’d always wanted to do. Paris, Berlin, London—you know, with time to look around and visit an art museum or two. Iceland rocked. Fjords of Norway—via cruise ship while I was still in the chair, and then again, camping. Saw the midnight sun and then the Northern Lights. Oh, and fuhhhking Easter Island! That was crazy.”
Jim nodded. “And Machu Picchu. I saw the pics you posted on the Team message board.”
“Like I said, I’m living well. I know you can’t quite let yourself believe it, but it’s been pretty great. And the camp’s been fun. And lucrative. Everyone and their little brother wants to pretend to be a SEAL. Glad young Thomas talked you into joining our merry band.”
“Yeah,” Jim said. “I’m not sure I’m glad yet. I’ll let you know. Oh, message from O’Donlon. He’s on the same flight as Thomas and Rio—into Tampa, arriving tonight. He’s going to rent a car, so no need to pick them up.”
“Thanks,” Dunk said. “That’s good to know. I’m going to text him, see if he can’t also shuttle a pair of campers who are prolly coming in on that same flight. And speaking of campers, I’m picking up the first arrivals right now. Three of ’em…”
Jim realized that Dunk had been holding a clipboard beneath one arm. It had a sign taped on the back saying SEAL World. Dunk now held it up in front of him, and Jim stepped back a bit so as not to block it.
It would be interesting to see the kind of guys who would sign up for this type of boot camp session and…
Holy shit, the princess and her boy band had come out of the bathrooms, pointed straight at Dunk, and were now heading directly toward them.
Jim turned and looked behind them, but no, there was no car rental counter back there—just the terminal wall. They were definitely heading for Dunk and his sign.
The princess faltered slightly as she met Jim’s disbelieving eyes. Her own were wide and such a light shade of blue that they were practically crystal gray. She was almost ridiculously, strikingly beautiful—but if she’d appeared in a line-up of potential SEAL World campers, she’d be the dead-last person Jim would pick as someone willing to spend money on anything other than a trip to the mall. With the boy-band coming in just above her.
“Uh-oh,” Dunk muttered.
“So… this is not typical?” Jim muttered back, just to confirm.
“Not even close,” Dunk muttered. “We’re inclusive, of course, and we occasionally get women, which is great, but I do like to have advance planning, because, well… Some campers aren’t as open to letting girls into their boys-only playtime. In fact, I’ve been thinking about offering a women-only class, but… We’re picking up what I thought were brothers. Clark and A. DeWitt. And someone else named… Ken Price.”
“Maybe the kids are Clark and A,” Jim offered, “and she’s just the incredibly hot nanny…?”
Oops, he’d said that a little too loud—she was close enough to have heard him, and her mouth tightened as her cheeks flushed. But she aimed a smile at Dunk as she asked, “Are you Senior Chief Duncan? I’m Ashley. DeWitt. The lawyer from California….?”
The A stood for Ashley, and she was a lawyer, not a nanny. Jim knew that last piece of info was for him, even though she didn’t deign to look at him again.
In fact, she barely glanced in his direction, even after she’d introduced her brother Clark—the Spike-the-vampire wannabe—and his friend Kenneth-not-Ken-with-the-Colin-Firth-accent. Even when Dunk intro’d Jim as one of his new camp instructors, she only gave him the vaguest of polite smiles.
As they walked out into the brilliance of the day, heading to the parking lot, Ashley chatted easily with Dunk. It wasn’t until they got to the SEAL World van that Jim caught up and realized they were talking about the technology behind Dunk’s prosthetic, which was interesting. Most people either stared or ignored—he would’ve taken Ashley for a full-on ignorer.
Or maybe Jim was the one that she was going to ignore for the entire week.
* * *
A few short miles outside of Sarasota, the suburbs rapidly vanished, giving way to orange groves and fields of cattle.
And although the camp was well off the main road, the compound was far less rustic than Ashley had feared it would be. It was located at the site of an old RV park, and the participants were housed in a motley collection of ancient but well-kept trailers in all shapes and sizes. Some were streamlined and white, some were bubble-shaped and shiny silver, some were square and brightly colored. All were hooked up to water and electricity, but instead of being parked close together in tight rows, they were scattered throughout the sandy-soiled, pine-and-palm-treed campground, nestled in their own private patches of shade.
It was actually quite charming.
As was Dunk. During the drive, Ashley’d had a chance to tell him that she was close friends with Colleen and Bobby Taylor—and he knew Chief Taylor well. As did Lieutenant Jim Slade—the significantly less charming giant SEAL instructor who’d called her a hot nanny.
“I’ve got to reorganize the barracks assignments before I hand out keys,” Dunk announced after he’d parked the van in front of the big central building that bore the sign Mess Hall. He grinned at Ashley as he led them inside. “I’d originally given you the double, put you in with your brother, but—”
“Oh, God, no, please and thank you,” Ash said. The spacious room was filled with long picnic-styled tables with attached benches. An open counter looked into a large kitchen.
Dunk laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Kenneth, are you okay sharing with Clark?” Ash asked.
“Of course.”
“You can just switch me and Kenneth,” she told Dunk.
“Yeah, no,” Dunk said. “I mean, essentially yes, that is what I’ll do. I just need to check where I put Ken and… My office is right here—” he pointed to a door. “Give me ten to do that administrative work. In the meantime, feel free to wander. Gedunk’s over there—” he pointed toward a small alcove off the mess hall that bore a sign Honor Gedunk “—lounge is in the back.” And with that he was gone.
“What’s a Gedunk?” Ashley asked Clark as she went to look. Was it some sort of play on the man’s nickname?
The walls of the alcove were lined with tables that were filled with SEAL World hats and T-shirts and sweatshirts, as well as snacks and supplies from a drug store. Cold meds and Tylenol and shampoo and Q-tips.
“Gedunk is Navy slang for the place on a ship where sailors can buy snacks and sundries.”
She looked up to see the annoying Lieutenant Slade leaning against the alcove’s frame. He’d been limping—just a little—as they’d walked to the parking lot of the airport.
“I always liked that word: sundries,” he added with a smile that softened his harshly craggy features. With his sparkling blue eyes and dark, wavy hair she might’ve even found him handsome, had he not already proven himself to be a first-class idiot.
He pointed to an iPad that was permanently attached to one of the tables with something that looked like a bicycle lock. “If there’s something you need, you scan the barcode. I bet five dollars Dunk’s gonna give everyone their own PIN.”
“That makes sense,” she said politely, smiling slightly in his general direction as she went past him, back into the mess hall.
“Whoa, Kenneth, check this out!” Clark exclaimed as he and his friend disappeared through the door labeled Lounge.
She followed them in—it was a fairly large room that had clearly once been a kid’s arcade—filled with pool and foosball tables, pinball machines, and even old-school, ancient video games.
“Oh, my God, this is an original Space Invaders!” Kenneth howled, forgetting to be British in his delight.
“PacMan’s set for five games for a quarter!” Clark, too, was over the moon.
“Space Invaders is, too!”
Ashley was more interested in the bamboo bar that stretched across a full wall. This was clearly an evening hangout area where the campers could socialize. There were several craft beers on tap, plus a large wine fridge. Like the Gedunk, it was serve yourself, although a sign proclaimed a reasonable two drink limit.
Another sign said We reserve the right to close this bar at any time for any reason.
That, too, seemed fair.
The boys had found a change machine, but couldn’t get it to work. “There’s nowhere to insert anything.” Kenneth was puzzled. “Not dollar bills or credit cards. It just keeps asking for my PIN.”
“I’m pretty sure the whole camp’s designed so you don’t have to carry any cash or cards.” The giant SEAL had followed her again. “Or keys. The trailers are locked with keypads.”
“Do you have any quarters?” Clark asked Ashley.
“I don’t,” she said. She’d cleaned out her bag before this trip, and she’d used her credit card for the coffee she’d bought in the airport.
“I got a few.” Lieutenant Slade had two quarters in the palm of his giant hand.
“Oh,” she said. “No, that’s okay,” even as Clark exclaimed “Yes! Thank you!” as he grabbed them and ran.
“He’s twenty, going on twelve,” she told the man. “I’ll make sure he pays you back.”
“I’m not worried,” he said with another charismatic smile. “So how long have you known Colleen Taylor?”
“Since college,” she said politely. “We were roommates.”
“Lucky you,” he said. “She’s amazing. I’m one of the many in Team Ten who had a crush on her. Before she married Bobby, I tried to get her brother—Wes—to set us up.”
“She is really great.” That was one thing—and possibly the only thing—they’d ever agree upon. Ashley gave the lieutenant a distant smile that she hoped he’d read as completely disinterested as she headed for the side door.
Just as she’d suspected, it led to an outside patio where there was a large, gorgeous swimming pool with an attached hot-tub. Lounge chairs and umbrellas were positioned around it, their fabric in various shades of blue. It looked more like a resort than a boot camp.
Outside of the pool’s fence was what looked like a playground, with a colorful rock-climbing wall, and a variety of other obstacles and challenges.
“That’s a smaller, less dangerous version of the BUD/S O-course.” Lieutenant Slade had followed her, again. He misread her frustration as confusion and gave her another of those smiles. “BUD/S stands for Basic Underwater Demolition-slash-SEAL. It’s the training we all go through to become SEALs. At first it’s not so much about the underwater demolition—it’s more about PT—physical training. On base, there’s a really punishing obstacle course that we have to complete in shorter and shorter amounts of time, both individually, and in teams. Even scaled down like this, it can really help with team-building.”
“Team building?” she said with dismay. God, he was going to think she was an idiot, only able to parrot his own words back at him. Except, really, why should she care what this man thought about her. Hot nanny… True, she’d have to interact with him for the next week, but after that, she’d never see him again. “I didn’t realize that we were going to be working together with the other campers.”
“Yeah,” he said, amusement in his eyes. “It’s SEAL Team. Rambo’s a myth—or at least he wasn’t SpecOps, Navy. If you ever read a book where the SEAL character is described as a loner, you throw that book against the wall. Hard.”
“These days I mostly read on my iPad,” she told him.
He laughed. “Okay, then, hit delete, or, what…? Archive, right?”
She gave him another unfocused smile as she turned back to the door, but this time he blocked her.
“Look,” he continued. “Before you go in, or before Thing 1 and Thing 2 come crashing out here to shriek about the awesome awesomeness of the pool, I’d… well, I’d really like to apologize.”
Ashley finally looked up and met his eyes squarely for the first time since she’d seen him in the airport. They were unbelievably blue, and for once his relentless amusement was tempered—he was dead serious.
“I know you overheard my incredibly inappropriate hot nanny comment and I am so sorry—not that you overheard, but that I said it,” he told her. “I was making a joke—trying to and failing doubly since it wasn’t even funny. I not only disrespected you, but I’m guilty of judging and valuing you based on your appearance instead of your whole self. And that sucks. I should know better because people often look at me and peg me as a knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing asshole. And that’s only true a fraction of the time.”
She was so surprised—she was standing there with her own mouth slightly open. So she closed it. Cleared her throat.
But the lieutenant didn’t seem to expect her to say anything, whether it was to accept his apology or not. He opened the door to the lounge for her. “Come on. Dunk’s probably ready for us. I’ll help you get your suitcases to your bunk.”
Ashley found her voice as he followed her back inside. “That’s okay. I don’t need help. I followed the instructions on the website—it said to pack light, in a single suitcase, to leave valuables at home, and be ready to carry our own bag over uneven terrain.”
“Wait,” he said, “that giant purple bag’s not yours?”
She stopped to look at him. “And why would you assume that it is?”
Because women stereotypically over-pack? She knew he was thinking along those lines and realized he’d put his foot in it, again, but instead he said, “The, uh, color…?”
“Have you met Clark?” she said, starting for the mess hall. “When he got that bag, a few months ago, it matched his hair.”
He laughed. “Of course it did. Well, I apologize, yet again.”
“I’m also a really good driver,” Ashley told him, “and I happen to be great at science and math. And everyone’s gonna hate having me on their team. Am I the only woman here this session? I am, right? I honestly don’t know how I missed that detail about team-building on the website…”
“You can be on my team,” Lieutenant Slade said. “You, me, Clark, and Kenneth.”
“Kinda like sitting at the kiddie table,” Ash murmured. She sighed. “I was actually hoping to learn something, but okay. At least I won’t ruin anyone else’s SEAL World experience.”