Hot SEAL, Undercover Groom (SEALs in Paradise) Read online

  Undercover Groom

  Hot SEALs

  Maryann Jordan

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Also by Maryann Jordan

  About the Author

  Undercover Groom (Hot SEALs: SEALs in Paradise) Copyright 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN ebook: 978-1-947214-62-0

  ISBN print: 978-1-947214-63-7

  Created with Vellum

  1

  “Which door will you choose for the grand prize?”

  Game show. Are those still on? Click.

  “Oh, my God, me dating my co-star is just a rumor, although… giggle, giggle… he’s just a friend!”

  Talk show with the newest Hollywood starlet. Who the hell is she and why does she look like she weighs about eighty pounds dripping wet with too-white veneers and fake boobs? Click.

  “Never overcook for the perfect texture.”

  Food show. Cooking with eel? What happened in the cupcake bake-off? Sigh. Click.

  “Painting contrast colors gives an old room new life.”

  Home show. An orange kitchen? Click.

  Nolan Bell, “Ringer” to his SEAL team, was stuck in mind-numbing, soul-sucking, boring-as-ass recuperation. He wasn’t sure which was worse, not being with his team or being stuck in his mom’s house with nothing for entertainment other than two hundred channels of ridiculous TV.

  His team was based out of Coronado, California, where he shared an apartment with several SEAL buddies. He just needed a place to lay his head between missions and hanging out with his buds was easy and cheap. But not a place to recuperate when he needed some assistance. Plus, he didn’t want them to see him as weak as a newborn kitten.

  Sidelined by a fuckin’ ruptured appendix.

  He had taken a weekend of leave to be the best man for his cousin. Just a weekend. Fly into Knoxville on Friday morning, rehearsal dinner Friday night, and wedding on Saturday. His plans for Saturday night at the reception were to drink, dance, and perhaps get lucky with one of the single bridesmaids. A perfect plan… or should have been.

  But, after the vows were spoken and the group pictures were taken, nausea set in. Surely, nothing a little food and drink wouldn’t cure. But, walking past the reception buffet, his stomach clenched, and the nausea increased. Breaking out in a sweat, he hurried away to step outside, terrified of throwing up in front of the bridesmaid who had been making it obvious a little horizontal activity with her would be easily obtained. Sucking in the fresh evening air in an attempt to quell the blinding pain, he grimaced.

  He should have known his mother would sniff out one of her children not feeling well. Rita Bell showed up at his side, her face etched in concern.

  “Nolan, honey, you look terrible. How much have you had to drink?”

  “None.” He barely kept the growl from his voice.

  Hands planted on her hips, she said, “Don’t you take that tone with me. You look positively green!”

  By now, the pain was making it hard to breathe, and he dropped into a chair before he fell to the floor. Jesus, I’m a fuckin’ SEAL! I’m used to pain! So what the hell is going on?

  That was the last he remembered before the floor rushed toward his face. When he awoke, he was in the hospital. In a pale blue hospital gown. Nothing says ‘I’m not in control’ like a barely-covering-your-ass hospital gown. The only good thought that hit him was being glad his team wasn’t around. The teasing would have been unmerciful.

  Ruptured appendix. Two days later, when he should have been discharged, infection set in, complicating matters. Three more days in the hospital on IV fluids and antibiotics, and he suffered the final indignation when they rolled him out of the hospital, weak and grouchy. And, to top it off, he was told he could not go back to work for two months. Two fuckin’ months… I’m supposed to be with my team, and I can’t get off medical leave for another month.

  Tossing the TV remote to the side, he shifted his body around and stood. Walking into the bathroom, he took care of his business and then stared at his reflection in the mirror. Six-feet three-inches tall, he was built. Ten years in the military, the last six as a SEAL, had sculpted his muscles into a powerful body. Taking after his dad with dark hair and whiskey-colored eyes, he knew he turned female gazes into sighs when he walked into a bar. As he rubbed his hand over his whiskers, he grinned. Those sighs turned into moans of pleasure if he happened to take one of them back to the apartment.

  He wasn’t stupid. Frog hogs just want a SEAL to bang. But considering he had no time or inclination for a relationship—and as long as he kept it wrapped up—the one-nighters worked for him. His shoulders slumped and he sighed. At least they used to. It seemed a lot of his team members were falling for the idea of forever love.

  Now, staring into the mirror, he noticed his complexion was still a little pale and dark circles remained underneath his eyes. Certain movements continued to cause dull pain in his abdomen. It’s been four weeks. I should be stronger by now.

  Frustrated with his slow recuperation, he left the bathroom and had just made it into his bedroom when his phone vibrated. Seeing the caller ID, he grinned. “C-Note, good to hear from you, man.”

  “Just thought I’d check to see what the hell you’re doing. You sure aren’t making your way back here.”

  “Fuck, I’ve got another month. Hear I’m missing a wedding?”

  “Yeah, but did you hear about Tate? He’s getting married, too.”

  Nolan shook his head. Tate had been on his SEAL team several years earlier, and when he got out, rumor had it he had joined a hot-shot security company. He looked up to Tate but hadn’t spoken to him in a year. “Tate’s getting married? Damn, everyone’s dropping like flies!”

  “Don’t worry, Ringer. It’ll hit you, too. Probably when you least expect it. Anyway, I told the others that I’d check on you.”

  “I’m getting there. Bored out of my skull, but my mom’s cooking is good.”

  Laughing, C-Note said, “I’ll let the others know you’ll be coming back fat and out of shape.”

  “Fuck you, man.” It felt good to laugh with a friend and he was more determined to rejoin his team as soon as possible. Disconnecting, he headed downstairs. Hearing voices from the kitchen, he stepped into the br
ight, sunny room that his mom considered to be the hub of the house.

  “Nolan, are you hungry?”

  The answer to that question would be that he could always eat his mom’s cooking, but the reality was he noticed his midsection seemed a little soft to him when he was staring in the bathroom mirror. Lack of exercise and too much of Mom’s cooking is hell on my SEAL-fit body.

  Ready to decline, he sniffed appreciatively and discovered a warm cherry cobbler sitting on the kitchen counter. “Jesus, Mom. At this rate, I’m never going to get back into shape.” Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Dad? I thought I heard voices.”

  Rita walked around the corner and looked up, a smile spread across her face. Her hair was still a light brown, a few streaks of gray only serving to highlight her blue eyes. A beautiful woman, she kept her figure with exercise but had no problem eating whatever she wanted, always saying that life was too short to not enjoy pleasures. “Your father’s in the yard, insisting on cleaning out the gutters.”

  Scowling, Nolan turned and headed toward the sliding glass door. “Why didn’t he wait for me to help?” Before giving his mother a chance to reply, he looked over his shoulder and halted her words with a glare. “And don’t give me any crap about not being able to help Dad around the house. It’s been a month. I’ve got to start getting back into fighting shape if I’m going to rejoin my team soon.”

  “Sweetie, I know you hate this, but remember what the doctor said. Sepsis is dangerous and not to be taken lightly. If you have a setback, it could keep you from rejoining your team permanently.”

  He grimaced, his mom’s words slicing through him. That is not going to happen. As the vow moved through his mind for the hundredth time since he first became ill, he was torn between getting back to his physical peak and not overdoing it to the point of setting his recovery back.

  Without looking at her, he gave a short nod, then stepped out into the yard. Just as the door was closing, he heard his mom call out. “Remind your father that Nancy is coming over!”

  Tossing his hand up in a wave, he continued walking toward the garage where his father was wrestling with a ladder. “Hang on, Dad. Let me help.”

  Nick Bell looked up and smiled his greeting toward Nolan. Whenever people saw them together, they always said, “You look just like your dad.” While some familial comparisons might bother others, Nolan had no problem with those words. His dad was tall and muscular, with whiskey-brown eyes and dark brown hair with hints of gray at the temple, still cut military short. Even in middle age, his father cut an imposing and handsome figure.

  He watched a glimmer of hesitation pass through his dad’s eyes, but—wisely—Nick just nodded. Bending, Nolan easily lifted one end of the ladder while his dad carried the other. Walking toward the house, they leaned it against the gutter.

  “Dad, why don’t you let me get up there and clean them out?”

  “Nolan, I’m not sure that’s a good idea at this time.”

  Huffing, he choked on his growl as his dad pierced him with a hard look.

  “Son, I know you can do anything—or at least think you can. But you gotta play this smart. You don’t want to set back your recovery. I know you’re itching to get back with your team, and you can only do that if you fully recuperate .” Nick glanced toward the sliding glass door and lowered his voice. “Plus, your mom is trying not to worry, but I can see her staring at us.”

  “Dad, don’t make me regret agreeing to recuperate here with you and Mom.”

  “Cut us a little slack, Nolan. As tough as you are, you almost died from a ruptured appendix and then the subsequent infection. I know you don’t like to think of it that way, but that’s what the doctors told us.”

  With his hands planted on his hips, he dropped his chin and stared at his feet for a minute, a mixture of emotions moving through him. Guilt that his parents had been so worried. Frustration that he hadn’t recognized the symptoms earlier and had tried to ignore them. Anger that he was unable to join his team on their latest mission. And bone-weary fatigue. Jesus, that’s what’s killing me. Feeling tired all the fuckin’ time. The doctors had told him that the fatigue was normal for someone who’d battled severe infection, and he’d slowly get back his strength.

  “How about if you spot me on the ladder since your mom is always convinced that I’m going to fall off?”

  Unable to keep the grin from his face, he agreed. Making sure the ladder stayed steady, he watched as his father climbed and then began spraying the hose down the gutter line to dislodge the leaves and debris.

  His parents’ marriage was a good one, and they’d been together for over thirty years. His father had been in the Navy until Nolan was almost ten years old and then moved back to his grandparents’ hometown of Knoxville, Tennessee. His father had taken over the family contracting business, and his mother helped. Now, in semi-retirement, his dad also volunteered for the fire department. His mom, desperate for something to do, had started working part-time as a secretary for his sister’s business. She seemed to enjoy the work, and it gave her a chance to get out of the house several days a week.

  “By the way, I’m supposed to tell you that Nancy is joining us for lunch.”

  He looked up in time to catch his dad’s smile. His sister, Nancy, was two years younger than Nolan and had stayed in the area after graduating from high school, attending a local college. She had trouble choosing a career but finally settled on a non-traditional route, becoming a private investigator and opening her own business.

  “Good, good. Even though she lives here in town, it seems like we don’t see much of her.”

  The continued spray of the hose drowned out any other chance for conversation, but that was fine with Nolan. His mind was still rolling with everything he needed to do, wanted to do, and couldn’t do.

  It was not long before his dad had finished cleaning out the gutters on the back of the house, and his mom called them for lunch. Stepping inside the kitchen, he grinned at the sight of his sister. Nancy looked as much like their mother as he did their dad. Not overly tall, her figure was trim and her hair was light brown, her highlights blonde. With a quick, ready smile, she put people at ease, and he often wondered if this worked in her favor as a private investigator. No one suspected her of investigating them.

  Soon, the four were seated around the table, his mom’s roast accompanied by carrots, potatoes, and gravy along with hot rolls being appreciated.

  “Got anything new and interesting you’re working on?” he asked Nancy.

  She licked her lips and swallowed, her gaze darting to his. “Actually, yes, something interesting has come up that goes beyond the divorce investigations that make up the bread-and-butter of my business.”

  As Rita served the cobbler, Nolan focused his attention on his sister.

  “I have a client who’s considering divorce, but she wants me to check on her husband’s financial situation before letting him know that she is filing for separation. She thinks he’s hiding money, and I’ve been looking into it. I’ve got a friend who’s a fraud accountant, and she looked over the initial records. It definitely looks like my client’s husband has some shady deals going on.”

  Swallowing his bite of the cobbler, he had to resist rolling his eyes. As far as he knew, Nancy was a good private investigator, but even as a child, she loved the drama of telling a story. Glancing at his parents, he could see that she had their rapt attention. Looking back at her, he made a little circular motion with his fork indicating for her to continue. “Aaaand?”

  “Okay, okay. Keep your pants on!” Nancy laughed, scraping the bottom of her cobbler dish. “You can’t expect me to talk and eat all at the same time.” Dropping her spoon into the now-empty dish, she said, “The interesting thing is all of this nefarious activity goes on in one of our favorite vacation spots.”

  “Gatlinburg?”

  Nodding, Nancy looked around at her family. “Yep. It’s hard for me to tell exactly what’s happening, but his
wife suspects that he is laundering some money through one of the nearby casinos. And what’s even crazier is he runs one of the more popular wedding chapel venues there.”

  “How are you investigating this?” their dad asked.

  Nancy’s nose scrunched as she shook her head. “So far, I’ve just been going through the financial records that my client brings in. Or, rather, I have my friend look at them. I’ve been doing some digging, and it definitely needs further investigation. The trouble is that I’d like to visit and do some work right there but, unfortunately, I’m recognized in the area, so I wouldn’t be able to get very far.”

  Nolan finished his cobbler and pushed his plate away as he leaned back in his chair. Listening to his sister’s work woes was interesting but had nothing to do with him. She had grown quiet, and he looked up to see her gaze pinned on him. Wondering if he had snoozed through part of the conversation, he cocked his head to the side. “What? Did I miss something?”

  “I was just thinking that since I can’t do any on-site investigation, maybe you could help me out.”

  Me? What does she think I can do to help investigate money laundering? Not exactly what my SEAL training covers.

  2

  Staring at his sister, Nolan noticed that she fiddled with her spoon instead of looking at him directly. “Come on, Nancy. What are you talking about? What on earth do you think I could do? And why the hell would I want to?”

  Her gaze shot up to his as she pursed her lips. “Well, what else are you doing right now? You can’t go back to your team until you get a medical clearance. I know you’re starting to exercise, but that doesn’t take all day. I just thought maybe you’d like a few days in Gatlinburg to get out of the house and do a little snooping for me. That should be right up your alley as a SEAL, right?”