SEAL for Her Protection (SEALs of Coronado Book 1) (5 page)

Hayley looked over at Brad. “Do you think those kids were in there trying to get the videos when Peat came home?”

It made sense to her, but Brad shook his head. “I doubt it. These days it’s too easy to stream video wirelessly. They were most likely in there getting their camera equipment back.”

Hayley hadn’t thought of that. But Brad was a photography and video guy. Of course he would understand all that technical stuff.

“Did the cops ask you about the kids?” Brad asked while Hayley was pondering whether she should take a few courses on Internet technology at one of the local colleges.

The man shook his head. “Peat never called the police and neither did I.”

Hayley frowned. “I can understand him not calling the cops, but why didn’t you?”

“Why would I?” He gave her and Brad a frosty look. “The way I look at it, those kids did me a flavor. They got a crooked scumbag out of my neighborhood and off the city payroll to boot. Somebody should give them a medal. By the way, if you plan on telling the police what I told you and they come around asking question about someone breaking into Alan Peat’s house that night, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a hard time remembering I saw anything, so you might as well not waste your time.”

Hayley glanced at Brad then smiled at the man. “We won’t say anything to the police. Or put it in print. Everything you told us is off the record.”

He regarded them thoughtfully for a moment then gave them a nod and went back to his house.

“He seems to have a pretty high opinion of those kids,” Brad remarked as they walked to his car. “You think he knows more about them than he’s saying?”

She shrugged. “Probably. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a much better look at them than he’s letting on. But I doubt he’ll ever admit it. Like he said, they got rid of a bad neighbor. That’s all he cares about. In his eyes, that makes them good guys.”

“What about you? If these college kids really are
The People
, do you think they’re the good guys?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “There can be a fine line between a few kids trying to do the right thing using the power of social media and a group of psychos taking the law into their own hands and playing Internet vigilantes.” She opened the door and gazed at Brad over the top of the vehicle. “They step too far over that line and suddenly they’re not heroes anymore. They’re dangerous.”

Chapter Three

H
AYLEY HAD THOUGHT Chasen looked smoking in his uniform, but then he showed up at her door promptly at seven that night dressed in jeans and a casual button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his well-muscled forearms. All she could say was…wow. Maybe she should bring a small fire extinguisher with her to dinner—in case he suddenly burst in flames simply from being so hot.

The man should have been on the cover of
GQ
or some other magazine dedicated to the blatant exploitation of insanely attractive men. Then again, if he were, she probably wouldn’t be going on a date with him. Heck, she probably wouldn’t even be here right now. So she guessed it was a good thing he was a Navy SEAL and not a model.

She didn’t realize she was simply standing there staring at him until she noticed he was doing the same to her. And from the heat in his eyes, he liked what he saw.

His mouth curved into a smile. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled back, glad she’d chosen to wear her go-to little black halter dress. It was sexy and showed off her curves but still looked casual. It was like she was saying,
yeah…I always look this good
.

“Thank you,” she said. “You look pretty good yourself. Come on in. I need to get my purse.”

Turning, she walked down the short hallway to her bedroom and grabbed her bag then after a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser, she went back out to the living room. Chasen was checking out what she liked to call her I-Love-Me-Some-Me wall. There were a whole slew of photos of her in various places with the people she’d met in each—London, Paris, Rome, Istanbul, Cairo—but Chasen seemed most interested in a framed newspaper article from the
San Diego Daily News
. She wandered over to stand beside him. He smelled yummy up close. A hint of male goodness and cologne mixed with ocean breeze, like he’d been at the beach all day. The combination was both pleasant and distracting. She forced herself to stop picturing him in a pair of snug-fitting Navy swim trunks and focus on the newspaper article.

“That’s the very first story I ever had in print after I graduated from college,” she told him. “Well, the first story not buried in the backside of the advertisement inserts or in the entertainment section. This was the story that convinced me I’d made the right choice in my decision to be a journalist.

“I remember reading this,” Chasen said. “Worse case of foot-in-mouth disease I’d ever seen. The man had a brilliant career—until this.”

Hayley looked at the article on General Stanley McChrystal, knowing every word of it by heart, even though she hadn’t read it in a while. In 2010, the McChrystal had been the commander of all US and international forces in Afghanistan. By all accounts he’d been a military genius, known for saying things the way he saw them. That unfiltered approach had earned him a lot of respect from the men and women who fought for him, but it had doomed him in the political world generals of his rank had to be able to navigate. A few casual words concerning his opinion on certain civilian leaders provided during an impromptu interview and a once-promising career was over.

“Lots of people wrote articles about McChrystal, his resignation, and his retirement.” Chasen turned his gaze on her. “But you were the only one who ever wrote the story from a military perspective, the only one to ask the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines who worked for the man what they thought. Out of a thousand stories on the subject, yours was the only one that stood out.”

“Thanks.”

She appreciated the compliment more than he would probably ever know.

They walked around her living room a little while longer, looking and laughing at all her travel pictures and mementoes before Chasen glanced at his watch.

“Ready to go?”

Not only did Chasen open the door for her when they left the apartment, but he did the same with the door of his F-150 pickup truck. Her lips curved as she climbed into the passenger seat. This was California, the land of lost chivalry. She’d never been on a date with a guy who’d opened doors for her. But something told her Chasen wasn’t like most guys.

He glanced at her as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I probably should have asked earlier, but I made reservations at Kitchen on the Bay. You’re okay with seafood, right?”

“Love it.”

Hayley had heard of the restaurant on Mission Boulevard but had never been there. It was supposed to be really good. Not that she cared where they went. She’d go to McDonald’s with him.

Although, when they walked into the restaurant twenty minutes later, she had to admit she was glad he’d picked Kitchen on the Bay instead. From the outside, it was beautiful, but inside it was like being transported to a private retreat by the sea. The immense aquarium with its colorful, exotic fish in the center of the dining room was the star of the show, to be sure, but the huge sliding glass doors currently open and giving guests an unobstructed view of Mission Bay were even more impressive.

“This place always has a long waiting list. How did you ever get a reservation? On a Friday night, no less,” she asked Chasen after the hostess had shown them to their table.

He flashed her a grin as he picked up his menu. “I’d like to say I have connections, but the reality is I stopped by in person earlier today and slipped the hostess a hundred dollar bill. Poof! We have a reservation.”

“Bribes and corruption in the food industry? Say it isn’t so.” She laughed and admired the restaurant again. “Well, it might be horrible of me to say it, but I’m glad you were able to get a reservation. It’s certainly beautiful.”

“So are you,” he said.

Hayley’s breath hitched as she caught the heat in his eyes. Seeing the way Chasen was looking at her, Hayley couldn’t help but imagine where his mind was wandering at the moment. Likely the same place hers was—to the nearest available flat surface, no bedding required.

What was it about this guy that had her thinking thoughts like that all the time? Assuming the smoking-hot body wasn’t the only cause.

She started to thank him for his compliment, but their waiter came over to take their order before she could. She ordered something safe and quick, simply because she didn’t want to waste time staring at a menu. If she was going to stare at anything in this place, it would be Chasen.

“So, how does a reporter from a San Diego newspaper end up in Nigeria?” Chasen asked after the man left.

Hayley almost sighed. She guessed she wasn’t going to be able to sit here all night and gaze at her date. They’d have to talk some, too.

“A few years ago, a slot came open for my paper to send a journalist to the Sudan, to be part of the international pool of reporters covering the genocide going on over there. None of the other, more established reporters wanted to touch the assignment with a ten-foot pole, so I volunteered.” She shrugged. “I’d only been at the paper for a little while and was still trying to make a name for myself. I figured it would get me noticed.”

Chasen leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Did it work?”

She nodded. “My editor liked the story and how I handled myself over there so much that a week after I got back, he sent me to Bolivia to cover the mutiny of the police force.”

“I remember that,” Chasen said. “Something about them wanting an increase in pay, right?”

“Uh-huh.” She was still outraged at how little those men had gotten paid. “They were fighting drug dealers on a daily basis and getting paid chicken feed for risking their lives while being expected to ignore the mountains of cash and drugs they came into contact with on a daily basis.”

Of course, police and military here in the States got paid chicken feed too, at least when compared to movie stars and athletes raking in crazy amounts of cash for jobs not anywhere nearly as dangerous or important.

“In the end, the police got an increase in pay and Bolivia went back to its version of normal. Since then, I’ve been in the regular rotation for overseas assignments. The worse the locale, the more likely they are to send me. It’s gotten to the point where people have started asking for me by name, so I guess if the question is whether I was able to get noticed, the answer would be yes.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “Have you run into trouble overseas before? Like you did in Nigeria.”

“Thankfully, no. And let’s hope that was a one-time thing,” she added, picking up her glass of white wine.

He lifted his beer in a toast as their waiter set their dinner in front of them. “Amen to that.”

The white seabass they’d both ordered not only looked delicious but smelled heavenly, too. Hayley picked up her fork and cut off a piece of the delicate fish, savoring the flavor of ancho chili and oranges.

“Are you a native California girl?” Chasen asked as he put his fork down and reached for his beer.

“Born and raised,” she told him. “My parents still live in Santa Barbara.”

“What brought you down to San Diego?”

Hayley looked up from her plate before answering and completely forgot what she was going to say. It wasn’t her fault. Watching him eat was very distracting. It made her think about all the other things he could do with his mouth, most of which would get them arrested if he demonstrated them in a public place.

Heat pooled between her thighs and she squeezed her legs together under the table.

What was the question again? Oh, right.

“The
Daily News
came to a job fair when I was in college and invited me to intern there the summer between my junior and senior year,” she said. “I loved everything about working there so when they offered me a position, I jumped at it.” She laughed. “It’s kind of funny, really. I went to UC Santa Barbara for communications assuming I always wanted to be in front of a camera on some news program, but after taking my first journalism class, I realized how much I loved the investigative side of the job. I changed majors the very next day.”

“While you’re obviously an exceptional journalist, I think you would have made a great news anchor, too.” He flashed her a grin. “I know I’d watch you.”

Hayley wasn’t prone to blushing, but the compliment warmed her all the way to the tips of her toes. Why did she have a sudden image of her sitting at an anchor desk completely naked while Chasen stood in front of her and watched her recite the daily traffic report?

She took a hasty sip of wine to hide her blush, getting seriously turned on at the idea of being naked in front of this man. “What about you? Are you originally from California?”

“Nah. I’m from the East Coast,” he said. “Princeton, New Jersey.”

Huh. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a
Jersey Shore
kind of guy. He didn’t even have an accent that she could tell.

She set down her glass and took another bite of fish. “Okay, so how does a guy from Princeton end up in the Navy? Did you always want to be a SEAL?”

His mouth curved into a wry smile. “Not even close. I was on track to become a big deal lawyer like my father. Got into Princeton University and everything.”

“Princeton? Okay, I didn’t see that one coming. What happened?”

“9/11 happened.” Chasen stared down at his plate. “My best friend’s brother worked in one of the towers. Keith was hanging out in my dorm room when we saw it on the news. Like everyone else, we didn’t even know what the hell had happened at first. We both sat there staring at the TV in shock. People had made it out though, so we kept telling ourselves Keith’s brother had to be one of them.”