Sealed and Delivered. Jill Monroe

She turned to run backwards, raising her hands in the air like a winning marathon winner.

      “Oh, no. Tori, look out.”

      But Tori was too far away to hear Amy’s warning call, and Tori jogged right into the very solid chest of a man enjoying the beach with his dog. Now off balance, Tori began to slide to the sand until the man dropped his Frisbee and caught her. He steadied her against his body.

      Amy’s warnings turned to laughter as Tori glanced up to her savior’s face. Then smiled. Slowly. The man didn’t let go.

      “Get his name,” one of the guests called.

      “And his number,” Amy added.

      “I tell you, she meets men in the weirdest ways,” said the maid of honor. “Amy, choose who should go next.”

      Amy glanced over at Tori, who was now tilting her head and brushing sand off the man’s arm. “Should we wait for her?”

      “No, that’s going to take awhile. Look at him, he’s a goner.”

      With a nod, Amy agreed. “Then you should go.”

      Just as the maid of honor was about to reveal her card, her cell phone rang. Looking down at the display she frowned. “Amy, I’m sorry, I have to take this.” The maid of honor thrust the card toward Hailey and quickly made her way back inside the Tea Room.

      “Oh, but—” Hailey stammered.

      “Show it, Hailey,” Amy said.

      Hailey glanced across the veranda to the Tea Room. It didn’t appear as if the maid of honor was coming back any time soon. Well, Hailey had bought these cards for a reason. Maybe now it was time to do something for herself. With a sigh, she turned the card toward her guests.

      To a lot of laughter.

      “Oh, that’s hilarious.”

      “That could be really good or really bad.”

      With some alarm, Hailey quickly turned the card over and read, “Kiss the first man you see.”

      No. NO. And hell no. Getting away from men was the second reason she’d come home. Hailey wasn’t about to actually throw herself at one. And, as far as she was concerned, certainly nothing good ever came from kissing.

      Some of the women were already moving toward the end of the terrace to search the sandy beach for available men, their skirts twirling in the breeze. “I see a few contenders way down the beach,” one said, smiling.

      “Just think, five minutes earlier and it would be you in the arms of that guy instead of Tori,” said another.

      Tori was welcome to him. To all men.

      A strange whooshing sounded over their heads. Hailey’s skirt practically lifted to her chin thanks to a strong, very out-of-place gust of air. Okay, not completely out of place. Shielding her eyes with one hand, and trying to hold strands of her carefully constructed chignon in place, Hailey looked up to spot the now familiar helicopter hovering over the ocean.

      The Navy SEALs were back.

      Hailey suppressed a groan. The SEALs had been conducting their training nearby on a semi-regular basis ever since she’d returned to Coronado. But Saturday afternoons had always been blissfully free of the noise and the wind. Why now during their first formal event?

      The door of the helicopter’s cabin slid open sharply and some kind of rope was thrown out, the end suspended just a few feet above the water.

      “What’s going on?” asked a guest.

      “Would anyone like more tea?” Hailey tried, but no one was paying her any attention. Everyone’s focus was on the chopper.

      At the cabin’s entrance, a man emerged, clad in a skintight black wetsuit. Hell, she might as well look, too. She squinted, but Hailey was too far away to make out features. Besides, she was paying too much attention to the fact that he was solid, lean muscle. She swallowed as he caught and pulled the rope toward him, wrapping it around his wrists and hands while securing it with his long legs. Hailey gasped as he flung himself over the side of the helicopter, strength evident in his every move. Her mouth went dry as he slid down the rope, heading for the rough, churning water. When he reached the end of the rope, he dove into the ocean, leaving little splash.

      “Did you see that?” one of the women asked, her voice hushed.

      How could she not?

      After a moment he resurfaced, and the breath she’d been holding finally released.

      “I’d think that would qualify as the first man you see, Hailey,” Rachel said, not able to suppress the laughter from her voice.

      “Hope you have a nice bikini to wear to swim out there to meet him,” the bride said, joining in the fun. “But look.”

      With reluctance, Hailey took her gaze off the man easily treading in the ocean to find even more men scrambling out of the helicopter.

      Great. This was just great. The last thing she wanted to do was kiss a man, and fate had sent them literally falling out of the sky.

      Chapter Two

      “WHICH ONE ARE YOU GOING to choose?” Rachel asked, her voice filled with laughter. Gleeful, encouraging-of-others to torment her sister kind of laughter. Now Hailey didn’t feel so bad about the “haircut” she’d given Rachel at the age of four.

      “Five, six, seven,” Amy counted as each man propelled himself onto the rope. “And they keep coming. So would the first one technically be the first one out of the helicopter?”

      “I have a self-help book that would be perfect to cure you of that sarcasm. It means you’re hiding a lot of pain,” Hailey whispered to her sister.

      “Nah,” Rachel said with a growing smile.

      “No, I think it would be the first one she’d reach,” said another guest.

      “Well, that could depend on which direction she swam, giving her a choice.”

      These ladies were applying the same kind of arguments and logic one would use when discussing String Theory or macroeconomics. It was just a guy.

      “So which one?” Amy asked.

      Curious eyes now gazed her way.

       None of them.

      Thankfully, the whooshing sounds from the helicopter drew their guests’ attention away from her.

      “Oh, they’re leaving,” one of the ladies said, clearly disappointed.

      “Just the helicopter. The guys are still in the water. Look.”

      Sure enough eight men waded in the water. Sometimes they would point, or go under the waves for a moment, but basically stayed in the same general location, performing what looked like drills.

      “Now that can’t feel good. The water is cold this time of year. Why would they be out there?” asked one of the women, frowning.

      The bride leaned forward. “One word—training. Those are Navy SEALs.”

      “SEALs?”

      The sisters nodded in confirmation. They’d witnessed this little scenario play out with several of their female tourists. First the confusion, then the excitement followed by the gawking.

      “Why didn’t you say so before?” Two of the women rushed to the railing to get a closer look, their heels clacking against the tile. Yeah, it was pretty much downhill from here.

      “I didn’t realize you could see them from the B&B.”

      “All up and down this area. They train right on Coronado,” Hailey told them.

      One woman, who Hailey thought might be the guest book attendant, pulled out