Page 5 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

I have four more documents to print, and it does, indeed, take me another fifteen minutes to gather it all together, binder clip the stack, and set them neatly on the boss’s desk.

When I swing the door shut, gently ensuring that the lock engages, I turn to a sharply dressed man stepping into the main office. He’s in a black suit jacket and pants. The crisp white shirt is bright for the end of the day. His shoes are shiny and black and more expensive than I’m used to seeing on base.

Pale skin and slicked-back hair give him an air of authority that comes with money.

I step back to my desk. “Hello. Can I help you?”

“Yes, Specialist Sloane Montgomery, I suspect?” He strides up to my desk, and that authority amplifies.

I straighten my spine. “Yes, sir. And you are?”

“Caspian Vorn. Come with me.” He gestures toward the door to the warehouse.

My heart kicks up, but I grab my keys—with my self-defense stick and pepper spray on it—and follow him.

The moment we’re through the door, Caspian’s hand closes around my bicep, and he swings me into the corner beside the storage room where we keep our office supplies.

Doing my best to regulate my breathing, I give him a hard stare. My finger finds the button of my pepper spray, but his touch drops the moment my back meets the wall.

This is one of the few blind spots in the building. I fill my lungs to scream or attack, but he leans in closer, taking away what little leverage I have.

“You’ve been poking around in things above your pay grade.” His voice is low and dangerous.

The smart part of me is quaking, knowing that I’m pretty much here alone and no matter how hard I fight, I’m not likely to win. That won’t keep me from taking my own ounce of flesh.

“I’m doing my job.”

“Stop looking into my supply orders, Miss Montgomery.” His dark eyes flash. “Drop it. Or therewillbe consequences.”

We hover there for a moment, me breathing heavily from anger or terror, I’m not really sure. And he catalogs my demeanor before smiling in a not-so-friendly way.

When he lurches forward to whisper, “I mean it,” in my ear, I jerk and move to shove him away, but he’s already backing up. We don’t break eye contact until he’s out the door, and I’m left shaking against the wall beside the storage room.

This kind of intimidation doesn’t work on me, so unfortunately for Caspian Vorn, he’s sparked the exact opposite reaction from me.

I’m going to find out what that guy is up to.

3

STERLING

The chilly taste of hops soothes the weary ache from a long day at work, and the plush cushions of my couch cup my back and shoulders with the promise of sleep. It’s been a long couple of days, but the work has been rewarding.

The team and I kept a diplomat from getting his head chopped off and returned him safely to his family. It’s the kind of win I can always appreciate.

My phone rings and breaks my reverie. When an old buddy’s name appears, I swipe open the call. “Warren Boone. It’s been a while. How's Valerie and the kids?”

“Sterling Cole. It has been a while. The kids are grown and making kids of their own, but Valerie is good. In her prime with the frequent visits from the grandkids. All of the fun and none of the responsibilities, if you know what I mean.” Boone’s gruff laugh is a treat. The man has never been very free with them.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“How’s the team?”

“Good. Yeah. We just wrapped up a mission…” And as I expected, the prompt did its magic.

“Then you might be able to help me with something.”

I smile knowingly, even though he can’t see it. “Tell me what’s going on.”

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