Page 8 of The SEALs' Single Mom Baby Surprise

We’re back in the dregs of the warehouse, tall steel shelves on either side of us reaching toward the ceiling. Most of the inventory is still wrapped in plastic, obviously waiting to be transported elsewhere when needed.

Her light blue blouse is a pop of color against the monochromatic workplace. And somehow, the fluorescent lighting doesn’t wash out her skin tone. Sloane looks lively and healthy, almost glowing in her element.

Walking me to a tall stack of crates and pallets of boxes, she points. “Wrong serial numbers. What’s on the boxes doesn’t match what’s on our manifest. The contents are correct.”

Sloane steps away as if to move on, but I catch her by the elbow to gently keep her put. I hold my hand out for her clipboard. Giving me a renewed frown, she looks at her arm until I drop it, and then she hands over her notes.

I don’t hold them long, seeing where she’s highlighted the wrong numbers and a checkmark for when she logged it. Nodding, I hand it back to her.

She’s off with a snap, and I enjoy how her hips sway from her hustle.

We make rounds in this part of the warehouse—more unmatched serial numbers. But the last one is odd. Tear gas containers packed as cleaning supplies. I can see why she said something. This isn’t a small mistake.

If it’s a mistake.

I have a feeling that there’s much more hidden among the old manifests that will share the same kind of error.

Sloane crosses her arms as I examine the canisters. Those stormy blue eyes analyze my features, trying to determine what I’m thinking. Am I taking her seriously?

She’s more than ready to dismiss me and go about her investigation on her own because she doesn’t have anything concrete. Not yet. But what she’s found is suspicious.

“How far back does this thread go?” I ask.

Her shoulders stiffen. “I only got to check through the last few days. This is what’s left in our warehouse that I found. More have already been dispatched to where they’re more useful on base.”

The way she shifts and looks back to the office tells me she’s keeping something a secret, holding something back.

Her suspicions of me and my team are a solid barrier between us.

Careful, darling, I will smash through. It’s only a matter of time.

Sloane crosses her arms again. Taps her foot. “Everything else is in the system. On the computer. And I have a delivery to oversee since the other supply specialist isn’t coming in today. I don’t have time to train you on it, so if you’ll excuse me?—”

I’ve never had a woman try to escape my presence with such precision. “Wait, Specialist Montgomery.”

She stops mid-step, wavering as if contemplating marching off like she didn’t hear me. It’s too late for that. Squaring her shoulders, she pivots on the spot and sets me on fire with her gaze. I’m sure she wishes I would actually burst into flames, but it just amplifies my heat.

I resist the urge to grin at her.

“We’re not done yet.”

“Why? Because you say so?” The anger in her eyes turns sharper, and I’ve pushed a button that I shouldn’t. A real trigger point.

“Because you haven’t told me everything.”

“There isn’t anything more to tell you. Like I said, I haven’t had much time to investigate.” And there is the crux, we’re not only in her way, but we’re also stepping on her toes.

Well, that’s our job, so I’m not at all surprised.

I step closer, the ace card still up my sleeve. “What about the visitor you had last night?”

The deep resentment pushing at her brows and the jut of her chin win me the point.

“He came in after everyone left last night…” I prompt her. “Walked you to a blind spot, out of the cameras, and… did what?”

Sloane stares into me, the silence spreading. What did he say to her? Why isn’t she telling us about it? Why hasn’t she said anything to her boss?

“We saw him on the video, so there’s no point in keeping it a secret.”

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