Page 5 of Invaluable

3

Kyle

Early December, Camp Rhino, Afghanistan

When I was in college,winter had always been my favorite time of the year. Spring breaks always sucked because I’d been deep into a grueling spring training schedule, while summer vacations I’d spent preparing for the upcoming season. But winter breaks were the one time each year I could escape, party, and hook up without a care in the world.

Not anymore. Most of the time I could barely tell what season it was. In Afghanistan, the long, frigid days and nights blended together. Nowadays, I was checking out terrorists instead of sexy coeds. And strangely enough, I was fulfilled.

Today, I’d get a reprieve from my smelly men. Our SEAL team was the first stop on the much appreciated Christmas USO tour. Kept the morale high. The first plane had arrived yesterday, and the second one had just landednow.

Pat, Vic, and I were on our way to greet the planes. No idea who was on the tour—usually it was a mix of professional athletes, cheerleaders, comedians, and movie stars. I’d done a USO tour myself when I’d played professional ball. Hanging out with the SEALs during Christmastime was what had convinced me to leave my career behind and join the Teams. My father was a retired Marine, and I’d always wanted to serve my country. It was the best decision I’d evermade.

I handed Vic the big “Welcome to Afghanistan” sign, and the three of us walked to the runway to welcome the USO company. Yup, I was right—a few huge guys walked down the jet way. I immediately recognized one of them, a top quarterback. I was about to shake his hand when Pat whispered in my ear, “Hey, bro, isn’t that OmeletGirl?”

I looked up. Fuck my life. Sara, the girl I’d met in Pacific Beach one night last summer while hanging out with Vic walked down the jet way in a skintight sweat suit emblazoned with a flame on the jacket. Pat had nicknamed her Omelet Girl because he’d stopped by my place the morning after I’d met her, and she’d cooked us omelets. They were damn good omelets, too. Vic had bitched those eggs should have technically been his since he’d been my wingman the night before. That only caused Pat to fuck with him some more. But besides being a good cook, I knew next to nothing about the girl. She’d never told me she was a professional cheerleader. A fucking San Diego Wildfire Girl—part of the hottest dance team in the league. Then again, I’d never told her I was a Navy SEAL. I guess we wereeven.

My eyes traced her body, her incredible curves hiding beneath her clothes. I flashed and remembered her legs spread on the rim of my hot tub as I ate her for all I was worth.

“Hi, Sara.” I grinned. “Welcome to Afghanistan, beautiful.”

Her mouth flew open and closed, her lips twisting as if temporarily lost in thought. And I wondered if she’d call me out on what I’d done. After a beat, she gave me the same unabashed grin I’d given her. Though hers was more of a smirk. “Kyle! What are you doing here? Wait, you’re on the USO tour, too?” she asked excitedly, fluttering her lashes in a dramatic fashion. It was clear she was giving me a hard time. I excepted asmuch.

She stared at my uniform, realization settling across her face. “Why are you in cammies? Were you on the other plane? Are you playing again? Which team do you playfor?”

Whoa, she should’ve been an interrogator. She could probably do a better job than I could. I laughed and pulled her to my side as she noticeably cringed at the barrage of questions. “SEAL Team Seven, sweetheart—I don’t play ball anymore. You just flew thirty-six hours to entertain me. And I’m ready. Come here, baby. Give me a kiss.” I hugged her and kissed her cheek, pressing her tight little body up againstme.

But our moment ended abruptly when she pulled away from me, her eyes sending me a pained look. Guilt crashed over me—we’d spent an incredible night together, then I’d deployed without saying good-bye. I’d told her I’d call her but neverhad.

An older lady with bleached-blonde hair and a Botoxed face who resembled an alien nudged Sara, uttering, “I’m going to get set up in the USO barracks. Don’t take long. We’ll reconvene in the morning.” Sara nodded. Probably the chaperone. Those cheerleaders usually traveled with their directors; like modern-day chastity belts. She gave Sara a look that screamed, “Keep it moving!” before walking away. Fuck that, to get some alone time with her I’d throw a flash bang grenade if I had to. Despite her wholesome all-American good girl cheerleader image, Sara was a freak—our night together was one for the books. And I needed a replay.

Her body flinched at the sound of a mortar going off in the distance, and I held her close, cradling her through the blast. The pink sky hung above us, thick with smoke.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I couldn’t figure out why you’d vanished. I thought we’d connected.” She paused and her eyes focused on my gun. “A Navy SEAL? That’s why you gave up football?”

“Absolutely. I love football but now my life has a different meaning. But football will always be a huge part of my life. I loved playing. Out here, football is important to the men and women who serve. That’s how we tell time. Each game means the passing of another week. Another week closer to going home.” Vic and Pat stepped over to us. “You remember Vic and Pat, don’tyou?”

Her girlfriends now gathered to her side and I recognized Sara’s friend, Maya, from the club. They were extremely close. There were seven other cheerleaders: a redhead, two brunettes, another blonde, a Latina girl, an Asian girl, and a sister. It was like an ice cream shop of hot women—one flavor for any taste.

“Yeah. Hey, Vic,” she greeted, blushing. Vic tipped his head in return. “And Pat was your ‘trainer,’ right?”

Pat smirked and gave her a reverent hug. Most SEALs lied about their jobs. Trainer was the job I’d given him when he’d met Sara. His eyes made a respectful dance around her friends, but he maintained his distance. Ever since he’d married Annie, Pat kept himself in check. He didn’t want any temptation. His only goal these days was to stay alive so he could return home to her and their son in one piece, especially now that Annie was pregnant again.

The rest of the plane had disembarked now. There were other military men attending to the sports players’ accommodations. My men had gladly volunteered to take care of the cheerleaders. Well, mostly Vic and I. I grabbed Sara’s luggage and escorted her and her fellow cheerleaders to the barracks with the guys trailing behind me. One look from me told them they needed to help the other ladies out. I would be the one assisting Sara. Hopefully in more ways than one. They were to stay in the Distinguished Visitor quarters—small single rooms each, with their own bed and dresser. Much better than the shithole barracks I bunked in. With any luck, I’d be crashing with her tonight.

As the guys made their way down the hall with the other girls, I placed her suitcase in her room, dust flying everywhere. “So you’re a cheerleader? Girl, I knew you were a dancer,” I lightly teased, causing her to smile.

She sat on the edge of the bed. The chin-length bob she’d rocked in the nightclub had magically grown into waist-length curls. My mom was a hairdresser; I knew extensions when I saw them. “I’m in college getting a degree in education. Why didn’t you tell me you were a SEAL? I think it’s awesome.” She wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily.

Her legs were crossed, indicating she was somewhat closed off to me, but I could only concentrate on the outline of her panties through her sweats. That side view was what dreams were made of. I loved my job, but I missed being around women. Their voices, sweet-smelling hair, and soft bodies were intoxicating.

I simply wasn’t used to giving accountability to anyone but my Team. And of course, my mother. But even she didn’t know about my missions. “Don’t take it personally. I don’t tell anyone what I do. It’s safer that way. If a guy goes around boasting he’s a SEAL, he’s probably aliar.”

“That makes sense…” her voice trailed off. She avoided making eye contact with me. Yup, I’d hurt her by not calling. Time for damage control.

I knelt by the side of her bed and clutched her hands in mine. It was easier to be accepted at eye level than standing with our vast height difference. “I want to apologize for never telling you I was about to deploy. That’s why I didn’t call you. I thought we bonded, for real, but since I was leaving I didn’t see the point of starting anything. That would have made it harder on you in the longrun.”

She nodded and bit her bottom lip. “It’s cool. I get it. I do.” She didn’t. Not even a little. But I kept my mouth shut. “I figured you’d thought I was a slut for going home with you the night we met. I don’t normally do that, I swear.”