Hot SEALs: SEAL's Ultimate Challenge (5 page)

He had refused to Skype with his friends. Especially Tuck. Reaper was afraid he’d break down when he saw Tuck, still in the desert, still a part of the team. But damn, maybe it was time he did. Tuck and the other members of his team were like brothers. Hell, they were closer than brothers. They’d been to hell and back together. That counted more than blood.

When he got back to his room, he’d power up the laptop O’Connell had given him and contact Tuck. Over a month had passed. He could do it.
Should
do it. He needed to know how they were.

Leigha stood at the counter, turning a pistol over in her hand. “Yes, this one will do for me.”

“What about him?” the man behind the counter asked.

“You’ll have to ask him?” Leigha turned to Reaper. “Nine millimeter Berretta or an HK 40 like I have?”

“Neither. I’ll just watch.”

“Wrong.” Leigha turned to the man. “Nine millimeter Berretta and forty rounds.”

Irritation at her attitude forced Reaper forward. “Sig-Sauer P226.”

“Now you’re talking. We just got two in. Brand new.” He turned to a locked cabinet behind him and extracted the nine-millimeter handgun. “It’ll be perfect for you because of the ambidextrous magazine release and fifteen-round capacity. Have to reload less often.”

“I know its capabilities,” Reaper cut in. He’d carried one on him into hostile territory along with his M4A1 with the SOPMOD upgrade. Whatever he wanted, he’d gotten.

The man laid the weapon on the counter, rather than handing it to Reaper.

Reaper clenched his teeth and reached for the grip, his left hand fumbling, before he finally raised it and held it in his palm. The weapon felt odd in his left hand. But strangely familiar. He and his teammates had naturally practiced firing with their dominant hands, as well as their non-dominant hands. He’d done all right. Not nearly as accurate as he’d been with his right hand.

Leigha and Reaper signed forms, were issued eye and ear protection, and assigned booth numbers next to each other. They gathered targets, weapons and the ammunition, and then passed through a door into the large indoor range. Several men and one woman occupied booths and were firing downrange.

Once in their booths, Leigh and Reaper slipped on their eye and ear protection. The glasses were scuffed and difficult to see through. The fact frustrated Reaper who was used to only the best equipment. But then it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t shoot worth a crap anyway.

Loading bullets into the magazine proved to be more difficult than firing the weapon. After trying to hold the magazine with his stump or between his knees, he figured out how to hold it at the very end with his last two fingers and press the rounds in with his thumb. Leigha was already firing by the time he had fifteen rounds in the magazine and shoved it into the P226. He fumbled with the target, eventually managing to clip it to the line, and sent it downrange.

With his target in position, he raised the P226 and sighted down the barrel. His hand shook as he squeezed off a round. The shot went wide, missing the target altogether. Reaper glanced at Leigha’s target and swallowed a groan.

She had a tight pattern of bullet holes in the area of the heart and another in the silhouette of the head. The woman was an amazing shot. A complete dichotomy from the cute, petite blond image she portrayed.

He grinned and focused on his own target, concentrated on keeping his hand steady and fired. This time, not only did he hit the target, he hit the silhouette in the right shoulder. He adjusted his aim and fired again, hitting dead center in what would be a man’s chest. The more he fired, the closer his shots grouped. By the time he emptied the magazine, he had a tight shot group centered on the heart.

He brought forward his target.

Leigha entered his booth and nodded. She didn’t smile and didn’t patronize him, just nodded. Then she left him alone with the parting words. “Do it again.”

Reaper left the range a different man from the one who hadn’t wanted to enter in the first place.

He wouldn’t admit the truth out loud, but Leigha had been right. He had to accept he wouldn’t ever return to being a SEAL, and find new purpose in his life. What that was he didn’t know, but he’d proved one thing tonight—he wasn’t done.

Chapter Four

STREET LIGHTS BLINKED on as darkness cloaked the city. Leigha drove back to Reaper’s place, a smile on her face and an odd ache in her heart. She could tell by the confidence with which Reaper walked out of the indoor range, he was beginning to learn something about his new self. He could do whatever he set his mind to.

The problem she had with his new confidence was that the combination of a hot body, confidence, and a sexy grin had turned her stomach upside down every time he aimed the attitude her way. She could see the man he’d once been and was becoming again. His change made her chest tight and her core hot. How long since she’d been with a man? So long her batteries on her vibrator had been replaced twice.

She hadn’t dated since her accident. Really, since well before her accident. As a cop, she tended to intimidate men. Yeah, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and shoot a perp, if the situation called for it. Deep inside, she was still a woman with emotions and feelings. Like anyone, she wanted someone in her life to love and hold her at night.

The traffic wasn’t particularly horrible between the shooting range and the rehab center. Reaper sat silent in the seat beside her, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

At least the silence was comfortable, one Leigha was happy to accommodate. She had her own thinking to do.

Reaper was her patient. She had to remind herself of this fact often. The repercussions of having anything beyond a professional relationship would be too much to deal with at this time in her life. It could cost her the job she’d just been offered. Not that she would allow herself to become too involved in his life. Once he was through with his therapy, he’d move on. No need would exist for them to come into contact with each other again.

As she approached a turn, she put on her blinker, indicating her direction. Before she even started turning, her Jeep slammed forward. The seatbelt tightened, saving her face from hitting the steering wheel.

“What the fuck!” Reaper shouted beside her. He twisted in his seat and glanced behind them. “He’s going to hit us again,” Reaper warned.

At first, Leigha didn’t understand what was happening. She held her foot on the brake, but her Jeep slammed forward again. Her gaze shifted to the rearview mirror, but all she could see were headlights coming at her for a third hit. Instinct and her police training kicked in and she jammed her foot on the accelerator, shooting ahead.

The vehicle slammed into her bumper and pushed her forward even faster.

Leigha gripped the steering wheel and desperately dodged the cars parked along the side of the street. The traffic light ahead blinked yellow then red, and vehicles pulled through the intersection.

“Turn right!” Reaper yelled, his hand braced on the dashboard.

Leigha didn’t hesitate. She jerked the wheel to the right and hit the accelerator. The car behind continued forward, pushing the rear of her car into a spin. Leigha kept her cool, let off the gas, and straightened the Jeep when the vehicle behind her sped past.

“That’s right. You’ve got it now.”

She shot a brief glance at the other vehicle.

Brake lights glared red. Ahead, the attacking vehicle skidded to a stop and white reverse lights flashed on.

“He’s coming back. Go, go, go!” Reaper shouted.

Heart racing, Leigha slammed her foot to the accelerator. The Jeep shot forward. Barely slowing at stop signs and stop lights, she drove on, twisting and turning through the city streets, her gaze again and again shifting from the road to the rearview mirror. When she felt they’d lost their tail, she slowed, pulled to a stop at a well-lit convenience store, and took a deep breath for the first time in what had to have been an hour, but in fact was only five minutes.

“What the hell was that all about?” Reaper asked.

“I don’t know.” Leigha grabbed her cell phone and called 911. “You didn’t happen to get a make or model on the vehicle, did you?”

Reaper shook his head. “It happened too fast.”

Moments later, a police car pulled up beside them in the parking lot. Leigha reported the incident, but she didn’t have much to go on. “The vehicle appeared to be a dark sedan. I’m not even certain if it had two or four doors. Whatever it was, it will have a smashed front end from ramming the back of my Jeep.” She stood at the back of her vehicle, staring at the crushed bumper and tailgate, angry someone had the balls to ram her, saddened her pretty Jeep was a mess, but thankful she and Reaper hadn’t been injured in the incident.

Even after over two years away from the police force, she felt weird being on the other side of the uniform.

The policeman took the information, handed her a business card, and left.

Leigha glanced at Reaper. “You sure you’re all right?”

He nodded, his brows furrowed, and he cupped her face with his hand, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”

He stared at her with those gray eyes, darkened with concern. Her heart thudded against her ribs and her pulse rocketed through her veins. This time, due to the way Reaper looked at her, not because of the near disaster caused by a hit-and-run driver. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little shaken.”

She was shaking. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she had the intense desire to kiss the sexy SEAL.

His hand slipped down to her shoulder, and he pulled her against him. “I have to admit, for a moment, I had a flashback to the explosion that earned me a one-way ticket out of Afghanistan.”

“Oh, Reaper.” She raised her hand to his face.

He caught it and pressed his lips to her fingertips. “I don’t need your pity.”

Her fingers tingled where his lips had been. “Not pity. Empathy.” She lifted her chin. “Have I ever been soft on you, Nipton?” His full lips spread in a wide grin that made Leigha’s insides melt.

“Never. I had drill sergeants in BUD/s training who were kinder and gentler.”

Before she leaned up and embarrassed herself by kissing a patient, an engaged one at that, Leigha backed away, dropping her hands to her sides. “Good. Nice to know I’m effective. Get in. I’ll take you back to your place.” She climbed in and waited for him to slide into the passenger seat.

On the way back to his place, Reaper commented, “Something stinks out of that whole incident. Why would someone ram into you?”

After Leigha pushed her thoughts of kissing Reaper to the back of her mind, she’d been asking herself the same question. “It could have been a random attack.”

Reaper shook his head. “One hit is an accident. The second and third hits were deliberate. The question is why.”

“Gang initiation?” She suggested. “I’ll bet the vehicle was stolen, and the police find it abandoned on some street by morning. Crap like that happened all the time in D.C. Gang initiation.”

“Yeah, but we’re not in D.C.”

“Gangs are found all over the country.”

Reaper turned to her. “Humor me and make some calls to your old contacts. Find out if any of the people you sent to jail were released recently.”

She nodded, already on board with the idea. “Deal.”

“What kind of security do you have at your place?”

“I live in a gated apartment complex.”

“What about your apartment? Any security cameras? Do you have an alarm system on your doors and windows?”

She shot him a frown. “No.”

“You might want to get them.”

“Thanks for your concern. But I’m not made of money.”

“Then get a dog. A big one. A German Shepherd.”

She laughed. “Calm down. I’ll be all right. I told you, I have a gun.”

“On you?” He angled his head and scanned her from head to toe.

“In my purse.”

“You need to carry it on your body.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself.”

He sat back in his seat, the frown still furrowing his brow. “I’d feel better if you stayed with someone else tonight. You said you have brothers?”

“I do. But they live too far. I have work in the morning.” She touched his arm. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’d feel better if someone stayed with you.”

“Are you volunteering?” she asked before she thought the situation through.

“Yes.” His chin dipped in a curt nod.

“Sorry. I can’t have a patient staying at my place. Doing that would be breaking all the rules.”

“You’re a therapist, not a doctor.”

“It’s part of my contract with the rehab center.”

“I won’t tell, if you won’t.”

“But I’ll know.”

“It can be our secret for tonight and tomorrow. Then you can make it right and transfer me to another therapist.”

“No.” The conversation had gone on long enough. Leigha pulled up in front of his quarters. “I’ll see you tomorrow. If you want a new therapist then, you have that right, and I’ll make it happen. Until then, I’ll be just fine.”

Reaper turned in his seat, his gaze intense. “Call me and let me know you got back to your apartment okay.”

“Okay,” Leigha conceded. “I’ll call.”

He gave her his number. She punched in the numbers and let the call connect so that he’d have hers. “Now, can I go? I have a full day tomorrow. I need sleep.”

Reaper leaned across the console and pressed his lips to hers. “I’ve wanted to do that all evening. If it breaks the rules, sue me.” Then he did it again, this time cupping the back of her head and pressing his mouth to hers, skimming the seam of her lips with his tongue.

Too surprised to protest, Leigha opened to him and he slipped inside, his tongue sliding along hers, in a long, steady glide. He tasted of mint and made her insides burn with a burgeoning desire.

Despite all her protestations of therapist/patient relations, she raised her hand to his face and melted into the kiss. Yes, his lips were as sensual as they appeared and his tongue was doing crazy things to her self-control. She could imagine how amazing having the hardened tips of her nipples licked, one at a time, would feel.