Page 85 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

I point to her set up. “Off the record first, then we’ll have a formal talk.”

It takes her a few solid seconds before she lowers her microphone and signals her cameraman to do the same.

“We’ve got a woman who just helped us take down a major player in illegal arms deals and who’s come home to her ex having taken illegal custody of her child.” Our gazes lock before she nods slowly.

“You need to make a little noise? Sway public opinion?”

“Yes. Can you do it?”

Her laughter is light as she pulls out her notebook. “Yeah. I can do that. Give me the details you can.”

He lays out what’s safe to give, a little background about Alistair without dropping his name, the story about the babysitter, and why Sloane was separated from her daughter to begin with.

The reporter taps her notebook with her pencil. “Okay. We’re on this. And you promise me an exclusive with your team, and the mom, once the little girl’s returned?”

“Yes.” I offer her my hand to shake to seal the deal.

She takes it. “Let’s make this happen.”

It’s less than an hour later when we see the story of Sloane, a single mom, helping to take down the major stop in an illegal arms ring. She’s a civilian and a hero. And her daughter has been taken from her while she was fighting to keep this country and the soldiers she serves safe.

The reporter doesn’t ham it up, thankfully, and she hits the points with a fervor that makes emotions stir in my chest. Sloane grabs my hand as she watches, her eyes wide.

“How?”

I squeeze her hand. “We’ve got every play we can make going. Your ex will not get away with this, even if we have to resort to using public opinion to control the narrative.”

“She made it sound like I was integral in stopping a terrorist attack.” Her disbelief is clouded by the fear and doubts that come with being separated from her daughter.

We all hover, waiting for the contacts and favors we’ve called in, waiting for the doctor to tell us anything new about Sloane’s condition.

It doesn’t take long to hear from Alistair. When Sloane answers her phone, my phone rings with a caller that I can’t ignore.

Frankie’s voice is clear and authoritative. “We’re in the process of finalizing the paperwork. A judge is waiting, and I’ve somehow gotten a surge of support to bury this guy as need be. Your work?”

“Mine and my team’s.”

Her laugh is softer than I expect. “Of course. My sources say he’s on the phone negotiating with her as we speak. We’ll recover Reese the moment every piece is in place.”

“How long?”

“Within the hour. We’ll get that little girl back to her mother.”

“I want to be there so she has a friendly face through the chaos.”

Frankie pauses. “Fine. I’ll text you the location.”

Relief. And a macho sense of pride that I will get to see that smug asshole’s face when he’s finally realized he lost.

“Nice touch with the news story, by the way.” The praise almost makes me want to like her. I’m not there yet, though.

“Thanks. I do what I can.”

By the time everything is in motion, we have enough to lay waste to him if he doesn’t sign the papers and hand Reese over.

I’m waiting with the team of Marshals as Frankie stands tall, her willowy frame misrepresenting how formidable she is.

Alistair looks like a slimy bastard, the kind of man I will gladly trip and have fall into my fist a few times.

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