When an alpha male—smart, funny, strong, but terrified of a future trapped behind a desk—collides with a smart, funny, and quietly strong woman with a troubled past, sparks fly hot and fast.
The tall, dark, and dangerous Navy SEALs of Team Ten are back, with reader favorites like Lucky, Joe Cat, Bobby Taylor and his wife Colleen, Thomas King, Rio Rosetti—and with Suzanne Brockmann’s signature blend of love, laughter, and a hint of danger in SEAL Camp.
Setting the scene: Attorney Ashley DeWitt is a “Team Leader” (and the only woman) at a camp that teaches leadership skills, the Navy SEAL way. LT Jim “Spaceman” Slade is her team’s instructor. Early in the camp session, all of the Team Leaders or TLs go on a night hike with their SEAL instructor. Last TL back to the camp “wins” their team the job of emptying all of the camp RV’s black tanks...
We’re in Jim’s point of view.
“Put on your hat,” Jim ordered as he handed Ashley some bug repellent wipes as the van’s taillights faded into the night.
“Um,” she said.
He held his flashlight overhead so that it lit both of their faces. And yes, the resigned look she was giving him was heavily tinged with No, I didn’t bring my hat.
“Seriously?” he said. It was going to rain—at night, in this part of Florida, that was inevitable. And that was going to suck even worse for anyone without a hat brim to shield their face.
“My lack of hat isn’t our biggest problem,” she told him as she used the light to read the directions on the packet before tearing one open and rubbing the wipe down the sleeves of her shirt and the legs of her jeans. “It’s the five miles—more than that, if we go in the wrong direction.”
“I don’t know why you think that’s a problem,” Jim answered. “You can walk ten miles, easily, if you have to.”
“I can run ten miles,” she responded with a tartness that was refreshing. “In fact, I call that Tuesday evening after work. It’s not me I’m worried about—it’s you.”
Jim was surprised. “Me?”
“Yes, Mr. Braces-on-Both-Knees,” Ashley said. “I’m worried about you.”
“Well, don’t be,” Jim said brusquely. “Five miles is nothing.”
“More if we go the wrong way,” she reminded him.
“Then don’t go the wrong way,” he countered.
“No map,” she reminded him. “No compass.” She looked up at the sky, which tended to be hazy in the humid tropics, even at the best of times. Now, however, thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. “No stars to follow, assuming I could even find the north star with all these trees. Assuming I also knew if we were north—or south or whatever—of the camp.”
The narrow sand-and-gravel road they were standing on was surrounded by a mix of pines, palms, and banyan trees, the latter with their vast collection of trunks that started out as curling vines snaking down from broadly-spread branches to take root in the earth below.
This would’ve been a relatively pleasant place to hike—in the daylight. Assuming the overpowering smell of dead-fish-hiding-somewhere-in-a-damp-locker-room faded in the sunshine.
Ashley turned to look down the road in the direction they’d approached while still in the van. “If we follow the road back that way, we’ll eventually get to the camp,” she said, obviously thinking out loud. “Except we made so many turns and stops and… I’m pretty sure we went in a big circle. And the van left going that way.” She pointed down the road where the van had vanished. “So there must be something down there…”
Jim waited as she looked back down the road in the other direction, clearly undecided.
“Do you have another flashlight?” she finally asked, turning to focus her gaze on him.
“No, they only gave me this one.” Hint, hint. Gave me. Jim knew Ashley had a very big brain. She just had to wake up enough to use it.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh, “you better keep it then. But turn it off for a sec, so my eyes can get used to the dark.”
Jim had to wonder about that you better keep it—what was she thinking…? Still, he obliged and they were plunged into the kind of moonless darkness that was suffocating in its absoluteness. It descended around him, heavy and wet against the bare skin of his face and hands.
Ashley must’ve been having the same reaction. “Shhhhhit,” she breathed, the word barely voiced.
“Let your eyes get used to it.” His own voice was a rumble in his chest as his other senses kicked in more fully. There was a raucous battle going on between tree frogs and locusts, and Team Locust was winning.
He could hear the sound of Ashley breathing, too. Her inhales were too shallow—she was breathing too fast.
“Easy,” he murmured.
“Nothing about any of this is easy,” she muttered.
“Rumor has it that Bull Edison wept and wet himself before his team leader night-hike was over,” Jim told her.
She laughed. “Telling me that is inappropriate. And mean.”
“Or I’m creating a false narrative to bolster your self-confidence.”
This time her laughter was a short burst of air but no less musical. “You mean you’re lying to keep me from weeping and wetting myself.”
“I’m convinced that weeping and wetting yourself is something that you would never do. Ever,” he emphasized as his own eyes adjusted and she turned into a dark shape standing on the road beside him.
But she sighed heavily again. “This isn’t going to work,” Ashley said.
“What isn’t?”
“I thought I could run ahead—leave you here with the flashlight. I thought if I could move fast, I could see where this road leads—if it’s an obvious route back to the camp—and then run back to let you know if I’m right. But there’s no way I can run without a light. This darkness is dizzying.”
“So take the flashlight,” he suggested.
“I’m not leaving you alone in the dark.”
“Navy SEAL,” he pointed out.
“I don’t care,” she said.
“Really, Ashley, I’ve been left alone in the dark a lot.”
“Well, I’m not gonna do that to you. Not tonight.” She was absolute, which was interesting. Apparently she was capable of standing her ground—when someone else’s comfort and safety were at risk.
He heard more than saw her shift, but was still surprised when her fingers lightly bumped his shoulder.
“Sorry,” she quickly said.
Jesus. If someone followed this woman around and recorded everything she ever said, the word-cloud created would feature Sorry smack in the middle, in a size four hundred font.
She cleared her throat. “May I have… Are you allowed to let me have the flashlight? You did say I could take it…?”
“Here. Yes.” Jim caught her reaching hand and pressed her fingers around the thing, making sure she had it firmly in her grasp before he let it and her go. Funny, her fingers were cool despite the night’s heat. Cool but not as fairy-princess soft as he’d imagined. She clearly used her hands to do hard work. Huh.