Page 4 of SEAL's Paradise
She was getting soft.
Riley always prided herself on her professionalism, her ability to get the job done no matter the cost, but something about the cocky Navy SEAL threw her off her game.Never mind that in another life, in another world, she’d met assets all across the globe.Riley had paid them off with government money, Uncle Sam happy to foot the bill.She’d collected their secrets.Gained their trust.Saved countless lives with the classified intel she’d obtained.
Yet put her around Sawyer for a few minutes, and she felt like a blushing teenager.It was like she lost all logic right along with her edge.He was a good-looking man, sure, but it was something about his brash personality that threw her off.Sawyer was over six feet of muscle.He was all hard edges, eyes gleaming with mischief, and a knowing smirk on that handsome face of his.At five-feet-seven, Riley wasn’t exactly short, but the man had at least six inches on her.She pursed her lips, wondering about the size of other parts of his anatomy.
No doubt he’d joke that he was well over six inches in that department.
Thank God for small mercies.
Smoothing her hair back into a ponytail, she slid around the bar.“Hey Riley,” the bartender called out, easily spotting her.“Looking good, sweetheart!”he added with an appraising look.The guy was way too friendly and flirty with every single female in sight, but she could deal with his type.He was predictable, shallow as a stream of rainwater running down the side of her window.Another night, another woman.He’d have his sights set on one lady in particular and then flirt mercilessly, hoping to take the flavor of the day home.No surprise.No mystery.
Nothing like the man she’d been following.
She swore Sawyer’s cocky grin was emblazoned in her mind.He always seemed amused around her, no doubt sensing her attraction to him.He was a flirt who always drew women his way like moths to a flame.The man was positively magnetic.He had a muscular, toned build, almost more like a runner or boxer than the bodybuilder type some of his teammates had.Sawyer could charm the pants off a grandma, all slick smiles and smooth words.That wicked gleam in his eyes and sharp tongue were no doubt the end of many a woman.
He was smart though.Try as he might to play the wiseass on the team, she could tell he was always watching.Assessing.Observing.She’d slipped an untraceable tracking device on his shirt one night at Coconuts, and it had been gone by morning.
Not that she’d expected it to last through a cycle in the wash, but if he was meeting with the enemy after hours, it would’ve given her intel as to the location.It hadn’t worked because he either wasn’t her guy or he’d changed the time and place of the meeting.And the tracker she’d placed on him?It was now beeping on the side of a garbage truck driving through the city streets of Honolulu, no doubt to prove a point.
Did he suspect her?
Riley didn’t think so.Either way, she’d have to lay low for a bit.Riley planned to place a tracker on his vehicle instead.She’d have to do it one night or weekend, because it would be difficult to infiltrate the security at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam.If Sawyer showed up at Coconuts, however, that was another story.
As she moved into the break room attached to the busy kitchen, she pulled her cell phone from her back pocket.She only had minutes.Riley was technically already on the clock.Swiping the screen, she quickly keyed in her passcode.The encrypted message was waiting for her, and she scanned it over, mentally translating it from the code she’d memorized long ago.
He’s working with someone.If our guy is Sawyer, he’s not doing it alone.
Riley bit her lip, puzzling that over.It certainly put a new angle on things.Sawyer Collins perfectly fit the description they’d gleaned in their intercepted intelligence of the mole on base.A man in his early thirties.Tall with the build of a boxer.Dirty blond hair.Cocky as sin.And someone with access to the intelligence the Navy SEALs had for their operations.
She drummed her fingers on the counter.There were no doubt others who had clearances that would give them intel on various ops run out of Pearl Harbor.Analysts.Commanding officers.Support staff.Contractors who had access to base.
Someone was slipping out munitions whenever the SEAL team deployed.It was convenient and clever if they weren’t a Navy SEAL themselves.Along with the physical description of the man the buyers were meeting, the timing further pinned the treachery on one of the SEALs.
And wasn’t that the crux of the situation.
The commander himself had no idea what was going on—unless he was involved.Riley was here undercover, investigating.Eventually the case would be turned over to NCIS to prosecute the traitor, but this was so secretive, even the damn government didn’t know about it.Whoever was involved knew their stuff.They’d managed to go undetected thus far.If it wasn’t for the intercepted messages, no one would be the wiser.Yet.
And Riley didn’t want to wait for the shit to hit the fan.Terrorist organizations all over the world would love access to U.S.military weapons.They needed to locate the munitions already stolen.Intercept the next delivery.And discover who the traitor was, a man selling out his country for cold, hard cash.
She calmly slid her phone into her pocket as she heard someone coming and grabbed her order pad and pen, moving to the door.“There you are,” her manager said with a grin.“How’s your daughter?”he asked.
“She’s resting,” Riley lied smoothly.“Sorry I was almost late tonight.Kids are always sick, you know?”
“No worries, honey.We’ve got a full house though, so let’s get to it.”
“On it,” she said, feeling his eyes on her ass as she walked out the door.He wasn’t creepy like some men, but he certainly didn’t hide his enjoyment of watching the young female waitresses here.He’d offered Riley extra hours more than once, assuming that as a “single mom” she couldn’t afford much living in as expensive a city as Honolulu.
It was one of many deceptions, and Riley strode into the restaurant, her game face on.She’d take orders and serve patrons, but she’d be listening.Watching.Knowing Sawyer wasn’t working alone gave her even more reason to be here.The guys he hung out with, both his teammates and other sailors, frequented Coconuts many nights.Give them a few beers, and they wouldn’t be fazed in the slightest at her casual questions, incorrectly assuming she was interested in them.
No matter.Riley had work to do, and each shift she spent here, she was one step further in closing in on the traitors working on base.
