Page 1 of The Captain's Little Girl

CHAPTER1

Captain Mark Cunningham strode into the Harbor Bar and Grill just off base. Behind him ranged the rest of his highly skilled team, ready for some time off. He was proud of these men. Mark would fight hard to keep every single one. Each worked well with the others and had the specialized skills needed to survive the dangerous scenarios the powers that be deemed essential.

Always on alert, he knew every team member was scanning the interior for potential threats before allowing themselves to look for their Littles who had chosen to have a night out together in the bar. Mark felt the corners of his mouth tilt up at the sight of three women sitting in a round booth with two servers pausing briefly at the table before scurrying off to take care of their designated areas.

A half-filled pitcher of margaritas sat in the middle of the table with a bevy of empty shot glasses scattered around. If he guessed correctly, there had been at least two rounds of tequila shots shared by the five friends. He guessed there would be some sore bottoms to match the hangover headaches those little girls would have tomorrow.

His gaze settled on one of the waitresses leaning against their booth. Mark devoured her form with his eyes. She was dressed in brief black shorts that hugged her pert bottom and a bar T-shirt. Cricket. Damn, I’ve missed her.

“Daddy?” Hope caught sight of them. She pushed against Ember’s shoulder, urging her out of the booth. In a shot, Hope ran to her husband Sam and jumped into his arms to kiss him.

One by one, the women processed through their tequila-clouded thoughts that their men had returned as well. Each reunion brought clapping and cheers from the bar, which attracted a large bevy of military personnel and town folk equally. Everyone knew the risks involved in military life and celebrated when skill, courage, and luck brought someone home.

As Sam held Hope close, Mark watched his gunner, Tex, lift Rosie off the floor to whirl her around in an exuberant circle before kissing her deeply. The curvy baker clung to her heavily muscled man as River dropped her tray of drinks at another table and abandoned her waitress duties to rush forward crying, “Doniphan!” She jumped into his arms and scattered kisses over his battered face. Jax’s laser vision focused on Ember who held her arms out to welcome him. Their sniper cupped his red-haired Little’s face to kiss her tenderly.

With everyone settled, Mark shed his leadership mantle to focus on the one woman who’d visited his dreams on the mission. Cricket walked slowly toward him. Her usual cheerful smile sobered, revealing her apprehension as she approached.

“Hi, Mark. Welcome home,” she greeted him, stopping a foot from him. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

The mission had been hairy. Touch and go at several points, and the skill set of each man had saved them. He’d pushed regrets from his mind each time the risk of their annihilation loomed over the team. The remorse for missing the chance to have Cricket in his life had haunted him. No more.

“Damn everything and everyone,” he muttered, stepping forward to wrap his arms around the young woman he knew belonged to him.

“Mark?”

Her gasp of surprise reached his ears just before Mark pressed his lips to hers. Mark claimed her as he’d wanted to a million times, his rock-hard control crumbling at the sensation of holding her close. When he finally lifted his head, Cricket opened her eyes slowly to look at him. Her expression of wonder made him harden against her.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“I’m an idiot.”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” she agreed. “I can’t do this, Mark. If you’re going to change your mind again, just let me go.”

“I’m sorry, Cricket. I’ve hurt you badly trying to protect you. If you’re interested in a battered old guy, I’m not going to push you away again.”

“I need a daddy,” she whispered.

“You do,” he agreed with a smile. Although Mark knew he did not deserve her, he vowed to treasure Cricket forever.

“No take backs,” she warned.

“I promise. What time do you get off, little girl?”

“Two hours. I can see if they’ll let me go home early,” she offered eagerly before looking at the hustling bar. It was obvious they needed more staff, not less.

“I’ve waited for you this long. I can wait two more hours. Go take care of your customers. I’ll be here,” he assured her, stepping away.

“I don’t want to,” she whispered.

“I know. Go anyway. I’ll be here,” he repeated.

A table shouted her name and Cricket bolted away with a reluctant look over her shoulder. Mark checked his watch. It would be a long time until midnight. He eased himself down onto the thin padding of the booth. Battered and bruised, his bed called his name, but Cricket wasn’t there—yet. He’d survive at the bar for a while.

“Captain, I’m taking Hope home,” Sam said, dropping a hand on his commanding officer’s shoulder.

“Maneuvers tomorrow at fourteen hundred hours,” Mark answered gruffly.

“I’ll be there.” The red-haired navigator for the team guided his wife through the crowd.

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