Hot SEAL, Single Malt (SEALs in Paradise Book 9) Read online

  "Passerby?" Del blinked at him like he was insane.

  "Yeah, wait, does she live around here?"

  There had been some talk about a couple houses going up to the south of Pop's land. He did know the county had extended the road that passed these houses to the south about three years ago. Last time he was home, he'd jogged it, then hooked west and looped back to the east on the backroads. The circuit he cut was five miles. He jogged it once and then ran it, full out. A decent run, although not very taxing.

  "Does she live around here?" Del parroted.

  "Dude, having problems hearing?" Gunner unzipped the wetsuit to his waist.

  Delmont chuckled and then laughed before he answered. "No, dude, I'm not having any problems hearing you. Yes, she lives around here, and I'm assuming since you didn't answer me that your old man does not know you're home."

  "I didn't answer because you held up that stop sign sized mitt of yours and left to take care of business." Gunner motioned toward Delmont's hands when he reminded the man of his silent command for silence. "No, I didn't tell Dad. He didn't need to worry about my coming back."

  "Hey, these hands got me a free ride to college. So, you're back to stay?"

  "Best damn wide receiver I had the privilege of throwing a ball to." Gunner acknowledged. "Yeah, I put in my papers. I'm on terminal leave. In eighty-nine days, I will be a retired Navy SEAL."

  "Where is your old man?" Delmont looked up at the old family house. "I assume since he's not here he's either at the pub or...?"

  "He went into San Francisco. He has a routine test tomorrow morning. Told me he was going to go into the city today, so he didn't have to face rush hour traffic." Gunner rolled his shoulders. "Hey, listen, if you aren't going to arrest me for being on my own property, I'm going to head up, unpack what I brought with me and get some shut-eye. It was a long night last night."

  "Retirement party?"

  "Nah, kinda a thing for a friend of mine. Probably the last time I'll see those guys, so it lasted a while."

  "I get that. And to answer your question, no I'm not arresting you. Although I should to avoid her wrath." Delmont motioned toward the street.

  "She's new in town?" Gunner grew up in Half Moon Bay. Twelve thousand residents on a good day. Sure, people come and go, but he'd have remembered if he'd seen that tea-cup sized tornado. People like her, he'd definitely notice, and not just because of her force of nature personality. That woman would turn his head if she never said a word. She was point-blank beautiful.

  "New-ish. I guess she showed up about a year ago." Delmont shrugged. "Maybe a bit less, I can't remember. She's a live wire and won't take shit off of anyone."

  "My kind of woman." Gunner smiled and cuffed Delmont on the back. "Let's meet up and have a drink sometime."

  "At the Walrus?" Delmont lowered his big frame into the patrol car and looked up at Gunner.

  "Yeah, that would be best since I came home to take over the operation. Dad had to hire some temporary help to run the bar after his stroke. I figured we can let the guy go once I get my bearings."

  Delmont blinked up at him and laughed again. "Iceman, you really need to talk to Pops more. I'll be seeing you around, and I'll take you up on that drink, but I'm buying. What's your drink nowadays? Sure as hell hope it ain't still Boone's Farm apple wine."

  Gunner groaned at the memory of that epic hangover. Sixteen-years-old, three friends and six bottles of wine they got a college kid to buy for them, resulted in one of the worst headaches he'd ever had, and that said one hell of a lot. "I'm a single malt guy now."

  Delmont snorted. "Figures, you pull out the expensive tastes after I say I'm buying." He shut the door and dropped his elbow out the open window. " I don't want to come back out here tonight for a trespassing call, so in case your dad didn’t tell you, he has a renter. My number's in the book, or you can reach me through dispatch. It's good to have you home, Iceman."

  Gunner waved as Delmont backed up, and he headed to his house. He entered through the side garage door he'd exited from and flipped on the light. Time to dry off and then get to work unpacking.

  Chapter 3

  A.J. sat back on her heels. The count was wrong. Either the inventory had been doctored, or the vendors were shorting them. She sighed and looked at the clipboard again. She'd gone over everything last night, twice, and again this morning. Ten bottles of top-shelf, ten bottles of house liquor and five cases of beer. She tapped the clipboard with her pen. How long had the inventory been off? She glanced down at the signature of the employee that had conducted this month's count. She flipped the top page of the inventory to the receiving documentation. A different employee signed acceptance for the shipments of alcohol and beer. So, two employees who counted the offload by the vendors stated there was more inventory than the one who counted the stock. Someone was stealing.

  She glanced up at the camera that sat quietly in the corner of the room. She knew the system was there recording the bar and storeroom’s activity. Silas had it installed when there was a rash of burglaries about four years ago. The footage was kept in the cloud for a year and then vanished. The back door opened, and A.J. lifted off the floor, rising out of a surround of the open boxes of alcohol.

  "Anyone home?" Silas's bellow put a smile on her face in an instant.

  "Just us gremlins!" She made her way to the coffee pot because that is where Silas would be.

  He turned and lifted the pot in her direction asking silently if she wanted a cup. He looked good. Dressed in black slacks and a button-down, she could see how much weight he'd lost recently. His hazel eyes twinkled at her. He flopped his grey hair out of his eyes and waited for a response.

  "God, yes. Please." She slid into the small banquet seat at the rear of the bar they'd claimed during the hours the pub was closed. "How did the appointments go?"

  "Fine, or that is what the doctors are telling me. The meds are doing what they are supposed to do."

  A.J. had worked for Silas for just over seven months. Just before she came aboard, he'd suffered a minor stroke—if any stroke could be called minor. The event had forced him to advertise for a bar manager. Due to a fatally toxic relationship, A.J. needed to relocate. It was karma, or fate, or hell, just good damn luck. She had liked Silas immediately, and they meshed well. So well that two months ago, A.J. had made an offer to buy twenty percent of the bar. Silas agreed, and the papers were signed last month. A.J. had found a permanent home in Half Moon Bay.

  "So, they didn't change anything?" Silas underplayed his medical condition. If she had to pull the information out of him, she was tenacious enough to do it. Just because she was small didn't mean she wasn't fierce.

  Silas slid her mug across the table as he sat down with his. "They gave me a different pill. Supposed to control some of the issues better than the one I was on before. They lowered the dose on the blood thinners, too. Scheduled me for another appointment in a month to re-evaluate. The doc said overall, he was happy with my labs but wanted to get them perfect, and that was why he was switching the meds. Says some people respond better to different types." He shrugged. "He also said the exercise that we're doing is improving my overall health. He was impressed with the weight loss. Five more pounds this month. Said he'd like to see me continue it, lose another twenty to twenty-five pounds."

  Happiness draped her shoulders and snuggled around her like a fluffy blanket. "That's amazing! I love going for our walks before work. I hope you're not thinking about stopping."

  "Wouldn't dream of it. I'm hooked. I can see my shoes without bending over. That hasn't happened in way too many years. Besides, I like the attention I'm getting from the ladies now." He winked at her and his booming laughter echoed in the empty pub. Silas had himself a small harem of older, single ladies who appeared regularly at the pub. A.J. smiled at him and shook her head. He was an adorable teddy bear and an amazing business partner and friend. "So how was business last night?"

  "Business was on par. Receipts are about a h
undred over normal, so I'm not going to complain, especially for a Monday night." A.J. pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and narrowed her eyes at her business partner. "Couple things I need to talk to you about, though."

  Silas sat his coffee cup down and leaned back in the seat. "Why do I not like that tone?"

  "Probably because you're a smart man." A.J. took another sip of her coffee.

  Silas lifted an eyebrow. "Quit buttering me up and hit me with it."

  "First, I had to pop home last night to grab last month's inventory from the files. I'll tell you why in a moment, but when I was getting back into my car I saw a man walk into the bay."

  "Out at our place?" Silas interjected his question.

  "Yeah. Either he was too far away to hear me when I called out to him, or he ignored me." A.J. realized the man was even more of a douchebag than she'd pegged him because he probably did ignore her. Damn, she hoped Del had arrested him. Hoped he had to post bail, too. Silas lifted his coffee to his lips breaking her from her thoughts. She shook her head. "Anyway, he disappeared under the water. I freaked when he didn't resurface. I called the cops. Del showed up. We searched, but the fog rolled in so thick that we couldn't see anything."

  Silas stared at her in disbelief. "Dammit. Do they have search and rescue out there now?"

  A.J. snorted. "No. Just when Del was telling me all the teams were grounded because of the fog, the guy walks out of the water, all casual, like he had no idea why there was a police car on the beach. The idiot. God! The man trespasses on private property and has the audacity to look like he doesn't have a care in the world."

  She saw Silas's shoulders move as he suppressed his laughter, "Bet that set you off."

  A.J. scrunched up her nose at him. "He deserved it. I thought he was attempting suicide or had drowned." She snorted. "I told Del to arrest him...I don't know what kind of charges he could put on the guy, but I know he trespassed at least."

  Silas lifted his coffee cup and smiled as he brought the cup to his lips. "I think trespass without extenuating circumstances is just a citation."

  "Really? Well, hell, that's not right." She took another sip of her coffee. "Anyway, that asshole aside, I think we have a problem."

  "Something to do with last month's inventory?" Silas sat his coffee cup down and clasped his hands in front of him.

  "Yeah, like I said last night was par for a Monday night, so I had time on my hands. One of the things that Henshaw used to do when I worked for him as manager was to go through some of the responsibilities he'd given his employees. He told me more than once if the boss didn't keep involved in the process the process could take over the boss. So, I did an OSHA inspection. There was a fire extinguisher that needed recharging and hadn't been signed off on, which isn't huge, but..."

  "It would have earned us a write-up." Silas nodded.

  A.J. sighed, "Yeah, so then I pulled the inventory sheet. Figured it would fill a half hour or so."

  "I take it by the expression on your face that it filled far more than a half hour." He tipped his head waiting for her to explain.

  "Yes. I had to go to my house to get the files." Silas had allowed her to take the documentation home. She'd wanted to make sure her buying into the pub was a sound business decision, and she'd gone over the files for the last three years. Every page and every document was scoured for information before she pulled a draw on her inheritance.

  She nodded her head toward the stack of boxes in the corner. "Brought them back today. Anyway, after all the crap with the dude at the beach, I returned and did a count. The inventory we brought in minus the use does not equal what we are supposed to have on hand."

  Silas leaned forward. "Just how much is missing?"

  "According to my count?" He nodded, his eyes expressing the concern she shared. "Ten bottles of top shelf, ten of house and five cases of beer."

  "So, a sizeable amount." Silas leaned back and drew a deep breath.

  "Yep, but I want you to go through the documentation and do a count. I'd like to make sure my conclusions are correct."

  "We can pull up the security feed." He scrubbed his hand over his cheek and chin. "I don't even remember my password for the system. Installed it and never used it."

  "I'm sure we can get it from the company." A.J. nodded to the boxes again. "While you’re counting and contacting the company, I'll put the files away and mop again. Whatever Amy used on the floor last night left a haze on the tile." She glanced down at the floor and frowned at the mess.

  "Well, I guess we both have work to do before we open in ..." Silas glanced at his watch, "... an hour and a half."

  "August will be here in an hour. I'd like to have it all done by the time he shows up for his shift so we don't have a rumored issue involved. If whoever is stealing finds out we are aware, they could bolt or cover their tracks. To that end, I stayed after closing last night to do the count and then came in early today to do it again." A.J. grabbed one of the file boxes as Silas grabbed the other.

  Silas sighed, "Then we need to get after it. Come on co-owner, we need to roll up sleeves and get after it."

  Gunner twisted the throttle letting the motorcycle fly. He'd unpacked last night, showered and slept like the dead. As the sun was rising this morning, he went for a run along the same course he'd taken the last time he was home. There were houses built along the road. His imagination ran free as he ran, wondering in which house the fiery little woman lived. He passed a house with children's toys outside and grimaced, admitting that she could be married. Someone that vibrant and beautiful was bound to be attached. Damn, he wished he'd been able to see her better last night. The headlights shaded her features, but he could tell her hair was auburn or a dark chestnut brown. Her eyes were either blue or light green and her body...fuck, her body was banging. Tight ass, small waist and he'd lie if he said he didn't notice the way her chest heaved when she was yelling at him, even under the shapeless sweater thing she wore.

  He thought about her now as he slowed and maneuvered his bike through some light traffic. He needed to come back into town later this afternoon and stock up on food, but the diner on the edge of town had sufficed for breakfast...and probably lunch...the diner had never shorted people on food, but the omelet, bacon, hash browns and side order of pancakes almost beat him. Almost.

  He smiled as he turned onto Main Street. The town hadn't changed much. A few new buildings and paint color changes on others. As he neared the Walrus, he smiled. He hadn't seen his old man in almost two years. He passed the pub and noticed the new white paint and widened porch that now had small bistro tables situated outside. The patio was lined with lush green plants and strings of old Edison bulbs hung over head. It looked amazing. Nosing the bike into a parking slot about a block down from the pub, he pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair and beard. He'd shaved when the team had gotten back about two weeks ago before he out-processed, but he was letting it grow back. He'd grown accustomed to it during deployments when shaving was the absolute last thing any of them had to worry about. Now, it was full and, as of this morning, trimmed to be presentable. He glanced at the pub again. The open sign was still dark. Gunner swung off, attached the helmet to the bike and locked it down. Not that he didn't trust people, but the helmet had a custom paint job. He wasn't going to tempt fate.

  Gunner stretched and headed to the back door of the pub. Man, he couldn't wait to see the expression on his old man's face. A smile broke as he strode to the steps. He avoided a mop that had been casually propped at the bottom step. It was wet and smelled of cleaner. Shit. His dad damn well better not be doing custodial work. Gunner's good mood vanished as he heard an eerily familiar voice, "Did you get the same numbers?"

  Gunner shook his head. No, it couldn't be. He put his foot on the bottom stair as the door opened. "What? Wait just a minute while I get rid of this."

  He paused. No, that was the same voice as last night. He heard the door open and moved to the left before he lifted onto th
e second step, not wanting to be concealed when she exited. God knew he didn't want to scare her again.

  He looked up just as a wall of grey water launched from the door. Instinctively he closed his eyes and braced. The tepid water swamped him as he turned his head. He felt the initial slap of water followed by the instantaneous absorption of the liquid into the fabric of his clothes. Gunner hung his head and opened his eyes. Small rivulets of water turned into huge drops as he released his breath.

  "Oh, my God! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were back here. Wait, why are you back here?"

  Gunner used his hand as a squeegee to push his hair back and protect his eyes from the antiseptic smell of the water. As he lifted his head, he heard a gasp.

  "You! What are you doing here? If you're trying to get me not to press charges, you are barking up the wrong tree, mister. I have half a mind to call Deputy Johnson. I don't know much about the law but following me is harassment...or stalking!"

  "Is everything alright?" His dad's voice echoed down the hall that led to the offices, stockroom, and employee break room.

  Gunner swiped the water away from his face and whipped his wrist sending it to the wall of the building with a splat. He opened his mouth to respond to his father, but Minnie-Mouth beat him to the punch.

  She shouted back, "No, that guy I told you about from last night is here."

  Gunner lifted up to the next step. "If you would stop talking long enough for me to—"

  "Stop. You better get back before I kick your ass, mister." The little piece of fluff in front of him dropped into a pretty damn respectable fighting stance.

  He had her by at least a hundred pounds, fourteen or fifteen inches and a lifetime of experience in hand-to-hand combat. He smiled and then started to laugh. The woman was a pistol. He laughed harder and moved up to the third step. His old man was in the bar, and he'd be able to settle the hissing kitten down. Obviously, they knew each other.