Page 75 of SEAL's Promise

Connected to Wolf Pack with her own comm device, Rachelle laughed.

“Knock it off, Torres,” Cal muttered.

His teammates chuckled. “But it’s fun to give you grief instead of listening to you rag on us,” Eli murmured.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cal tolerated the teasing until he and Rachelle finished eating.

He glanced at his watch and frowned. “Blake’s late.” Forty minutes beyond the appointed time. Blake wasn’t the bravest man on a team, but he was punctual. Something was wrong. “We need to recon to see if he ran into trouble outside the restaurant.”

“I’ve already paid our tab,” Rafe said. “Jackson and I will go.”

Minutes later, Rafe said, “Sims isn’t here, and there’s no sign of trouble.”

“Copy.”

“What should we do now?” Rachelle asked.

If Rachelle wasn’t with him, Cal would go to Blake’s home. “Would you allow one of my teammates to take you to the hotel?”

Her eyebrow winged up. “What do you think?”

His teammates chuckled again.

Rachelle was as stubborn as she was beautiful. “Let’s go.”

After paying their bill, Cal and Rachelle met the others at the SUVs. He called Fortress for Blake’s address. Two minutes later, the tech sent the information to Cal and Eli. They arrived at Blake’s home two hours later.

Cal circled the block before parking a few houses away. He slowly surveyed the neighborhood.

Eli activated his comm system. “I don’t see anything.”

“Same.”

“Give us a minute to check the back.”

“Copy.” He glanced at Rachelle, wondering if she considered hot chocolate a comfort food like his sisters. “After we talk to Blake, we’ll return to the hotel. Would you like hot chocolate as an after-dinner treat?”

She smiled. “I’d love that. Will the hotel kitchen still be open?”

He kissed her knuckles, pleased that he’d guessed right. “I saw a coffee shop on the way here that’s open 24 hours a day.”

“Thank you for thinking about me.” She kissed him briefly.

“Hey,” Jackson complained from the backseat. “I’m feeling left out.”

“You’ll need medical attention if you don’t knock it off,” Cal muttered.

“Backyard’s clear,” Jon murmured. “Go, Cal.”

“Copy.” He squeezed Rachelle’s hand. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Let’s make your friend spill his guts.”

He winked at her, delighted that she was his and unafraid of his world. He escorted her to Blake’s home.

The small bungalow was dark inside. Blake’s black sports car sat in the driveway. Cal laid his hand on the hood. “Car engine’s cold,” he reported to the others.

“No sign of movement inside,” Eli whispered.