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The SEAL's Holiday Babies
She sauntered off, sexy in a white Cinderella ball gown that bordered on safe-for-kiddies-and-somehow-unsafe-for-bachelors. Ty wiped his brow under the gallant black Zorro hat.
“You’re smearing the ’stache,” Squint told him, suddenly appearing through the crowd.
“Crap!” Ty quit trying to wipe off Daisy’s kiss and the sweat on his brow. “Where the hell have you been? And why haven’t you got a hold on the princess of peril?” He stared at his pal. “And what is that you’re wearing?”
Squint laughed. “Where the hell I’ve been is helping Justin Morant put up another six tables and accompanying chairs. The Haunted H has a much bigger turnout than expected. They also needed about another six dozen wienies for the wienie roast.”
“That’s nice. Glad you’re making yourself useful,” Ty growled.
“Why I’m not holding my hot princess is the simplest part of your question. I believe in keeping the lasso loose, brother. But not too loose. I’ll be catching up with the Cinderella in question momentarily. Believe me, I’ll teach her all about magic pumpkins and wands that do a different kind of magic.”
“That’s nice,” Ty said, still staring at Squint’s outrageous getup. “Anyway, what the hell are you?”
“Can’t you tell? I’m you.” He pointed to the camo bandanna, boots, camo pants, black Kevlar vest and helmet equipped with night-vision goggles. “I’m you going into BUD/S.”
“That’s so funny I forgot to laugh,” Ty said sourly. “It’s all fine for you to mock my efforts, since you and Frog are already SEALs. I sense a little rivalry, or perhaps the essence floating through that you don’t think I can make it, so mock away. But you’re scaring the kiddies and, I might add, their parents. People are looking at you like sharpshooters, assassins and military-grade security were hired for this shindig,” he said, keeping his voice low. “At least take off the goggles and hide the artillery, okay?”
“It’s a toy,” Squint said, shifting the long gun on his back, letting the strap hang over his shoulder. “It’s a water cannon, doofus.”
“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you remember what happened? We don’t want anyone recalling that someone died here at the last haunted house.”
“He wasn’t shot,” Squint said.
“We don’t want any dangerous vibes. Go put it in your truck! And find Daisy before she starts any more trouble!”
“All right, dude. Cálmate. Keep your ’stache on. Damn.” Squint went off, obviously a bit insulted.
“Hey, mister,” a little boy said. “Are you running the dunking booth?”
“Yes. No.” Ty grabbed Sam as he meandered by, and shoved him into his place. “The pirate is tending to the water exhibit. Have fun.”
Ty trotted off to locate Raggedy Ann, finding her spinning cotton candy onto paper cones. “Can we talk?”
“Talk away. Want some?”
“Uh, no. Thanks.” He handed the fluffy stick of puffed pink sugar she gave him to the first kid in line. “From Zorro to you, kid.”
“Thanks, mister!”
The boy hurried off.
“That’s not how we make profits here. Weren’t you the one who believed that the haunted house and bachelors were all BC needed to get back in the black?” Jade said.
He slapped a hundred dollar bill on the wooden ledge of the ice-cream-and-sweets stand. “Can we talk?”
“We’re talking now,” Jade said, oozing darling and too-sweet-for-tea.
“I want to talk to you alone.”
She gazed at him, her green eyes wide. “Will Daisy allow you to? She just came by here with a—”
“That’s it.” Ty went into the crowd, grabbed Frog, propelled him to the stand. “Robin Hood’s robbing the gremlins and warlocks and giving to the kiddies right here. I mean, the ninjas and pint-size ghosts. Make yourself useful and give these tiny customers a good show,” he told Frog, tugging Jade out from the booth. He pulled her into the bunkhouse a little unceremoniously, but he was running out of days to break through the ice with this little gal. “There are way too many urchins around here. It’s enough to make a single guy nervous as hell.”
He dropped onto a sofa, pulled off the Zorro hat and the mask and the one side of the mustache that wasn’t painted on. There was just no help for it; he had to do something before he went mad. So he swept Jade into his lap. “Now you listen to me and you listen good. I want nothing to do with Daisy Donovan, and you know it. You’re just having a helluva good time teeing me up about it.”
“Yes, I am. You deserve every moment of it.”
He stared into Jade’s dangerously green eyes, which reminded him of a hidden forest, and wished he knew of a forest somewhere to drag her off to. The closest one was near Bridesmaids Creek’s creek, and it was far too cold to drag her there. She didn’t fight—or even move—to get out of his lap, so he decided she liked being with him more than she was saying.
“You smell good. Like cotton candy.”
“And peach ice cream and sprinkles and hot cocoa and popcorn. Sexy stuff.” Jade looked at him. “I wasn’t being honest. You’re a really hunky Zorro.”
He looked at her, suspicious. “Now you tell me.”
“Couldn’t tell you with Daisy hanging on to your face.”
That sounded like an opening he couldn’t pass up. “Okay, you hang on to my lips, and I’ll probably get the message.”
To his astonishment, Jade kissed him, long and slow and sweet, taking a tantalizingly hot tour of his mouth. Ty’s brain blew a short circuit that fried The Plan and all his good sense and intentions in one fiery explosion.
“Get the message?” she asked, pulling back to study him.
He certainly had gotten something. “I’m not quite sure. If you do that again, I can probably—”
She put a finger against his lips. “You’re leaving in, what, eight days? Nine?”
“Yeah. Wanna give me a private going-away party?” He wrapped his arms around her, mashing her closer to him, sighing against her neck. Wondered if he dared unzip the Raggedy Ann dress. “God, you taste better than cotton candy. Do it again.”
“My point was, you’re leaving. And according to The Plan I’ve heard so much about, the last thing you need are entanglements and issues back home when you go. That’s straight from the BUD/S training bible, or the code you live by, or something, isn’t it?”
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