Operation: Romeo: SEALs on Vacation, #1

By Kat Cantrell

Jilted groom Garrett Van Doren didn't expect to spend his wedding night alone. But finding Callie Jones in his bed—naked—also wasn't in the plan. The mortifying hotel room mix up never should have happened but Garrett needs someone to keep him from jumping into the next relationship too fast. Callie is determined to seduce his brother to get herself out of a dating rut. What else can they do except join forces? But Operation: Romeo takes an unexpected twist when Callie realizes she was in the right bed all along—Garrett's. And the determined Navy SEAL is trying to set her up with his brother…

This is book #1 in a duology set (SEALs on Vacation) in Roxanne St. Claire's Barefoot Bay World. It can be read on its own, but also read Seduced By The Best Man by Zoe York for Garrett's brother's story!

This story is set in a world based on Roxanne St. Claire's Barefoot Bay Series; it is published with the permission of Roxanne St. Claire. Visit her website for more information.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alpe D'Huez Press
• Release date: Sep 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386779650

Book preview

Chapter 1

Impulsiveness might well be the death of Garrett Van Doren. Or the cause would be the copious amounts of red wine he’d poured down his throat.

His foot connected with something solid and immovable as he stumbled into the unfamiliar hotel room at the Casa Blanca Resort & Spa where he was supposed to be getting married at the ultimate destination wedding spot on Mimosa Key. He let loose with a long string of colorful curses. The card key dropped from his fingers just inside the door, and it might be part chameleon, because hell if he could tell where it had fallen on the swirl pattern of the carpet.

He left it. It would still be there in the morning. Unlike Simone.

He never drank this much. But when your highly anticipated wedding day ends with no bride and people murmuring such a shame while scarcely concealing their smirks and told you sos, you got a pass.

The beginnings of a monster headache cleaved through his brain. Wasn’t the hangover supposed to start the morning after? Apparently being the non-runaway half of the bride and groom wasn’t punishment enough for the crime of wanting something a little more lasting than a casual hookup. Though evidence would suggest that he and Simone probably should have dated longer than three months before deciding to get married.

Where were his bags? His brother had promised that he’d have Garrett’s suitcases delivered to this room after they’d switched. There was no way Garrett could have slept in the honeymoon suite by himself and had given it to his brother instead. Dylan had grudgingly handed over his room key, as if Garrett’s offer to let him stay in the lap of luxury was asking some kind of huge brotherly favor that he expected to be recompensed for later.

Maybe if he turned the light on, he could find his bags… But his fingers never closed over the switch, and he didn’t feel like doing anything except crawling into bed and putting this day behind him.

If nothing else, nearly an entire bottle of red wine had highlighted an important fact: Garrett was not in fact brokenhearted over Simone’s disappearing act. Sad? Sure. But definitely relieved that she’d figured out she didn’t want to marry him before saying I do. He wanted a permanent relationship with a woman who loved him, not a divorce.

Stripping out of the tuxedo that he’d expected his new wife to take off him, he let the pieces fall to the floor and kicked them under the bed. Buck naked except for his dog tags and happy to have the last of the wedding remnants off his body, he crawled under the covers and rolled.

The soft scent of vanilla and spice slammed through his senses a moment before the brush of body parts warned him the bed was not empty. And the occupant was a female with very fast hands that smoothed over his bicep in welcome. Simone. For a moment he thought she’d come back from wherever she’d fled to, but even his wine-induced haze couldn’t sell that.

After all, this was Dylan’s hotel room, and obviously he’d forgotten that he’d passed a room key to someone. Perfect end to a crappy day.

I thought you’d never get here, she murmured throatily, and before he could open his mouth to let her know Dylan still wasn’t here, she burrowed up against him and hello naked woman.

Her skin slid against his, silky and deliberate, and somehow her leg ended up between his thighs. God, that felt nice, and his groin stirred to life despite Garrett having never been one to be turned on by anonymous female parts. Okay, well, he wasn’t a saint, and when deployed, there was often little to do while waiting around for directions to the next stronghold of ISIS terrorists. Sometimes the guys in his SEAL platoon passed around magazines, and yeah, he was red-blooded enough to look. But that was totally different than having sex with a woman whose name he didn’t know. Under false pretenses.

She was just so lush and female and available. And he wasn’t supposed to be alone tonight. Letting her go was suddenly not in his skill set.

Maybe one more second and then he’d clue her in on the state of things. Her stomach arched, rubbing against his erection. He sucked in a breath as her lips connected with his throat, gently nibbling as she worked her way to his mouth.

He shouldn’t kiss her. Kissing was his favorite. That first kiss—nothing was better than learning a woman’s mouth with the intent of using that information during the second kiss. And the third.

The decision was taken from him as she nuzzled his lips. He groaned as their mouths aligned seamlessly and her scent invaded his senses. Deepening the kiss took no effort whatsoever as she eagerly opened for him, letting him explore to his heart’s content. His fingers tangled in her silky hair as he found the exact right spot to put his thumb so he could tilt her head at will.

Tongues clashed, then settled into a teasing, sensuous rhythm that did it for him in so many ways. Amazing. She tasted like fire and wine and deliverance from a crappy day that had been a major disappointment. Why shouldn’t he get something nice for himself after being left at the altar? Literally left, like Simone had been standing there and then shook her head, lips trembling, then whispered, I can’t do this. Then she’d turned and dashed up the aisle, past all the shocked onlookers, and disappeared.

The woman’s kiss bled through him, salving some of the embarrassment and the ache at failing to cross the finish line of the first thing he’d planned out in as long as he could remember. Planning wasn’t his strong suit, especially when it required analysis of future consequences. Taking advantage of each moment? That he could do. That he liked.

Especially when it came packaged in a handsy woman who smelled so delicious that he couldn’t help but want to explore her skin to find out where it most smelled like that vanilla-and-spice combo.

His nose hit the juncture of her throat, and he couldn’t help but grab a taste of the little hollow near her collarbone. As his tongue made the acquaintance of her skin, she sighed and shifted restlessly against him. Hard, peaked nipples ground into his chest, shooting licks of fire across his flesh. Her body was unbelievable, and he had a hard time deciding where to touch first.

Kiss me again, Dylan, she murmured.

Garrett froze. His eyelids slammed shut as his conscience flared. Stupid conscience.

I think there’s been a mistake, he choked out. God knew how. Were you looking for Dylan?

She froze. And scrambled out of his arms. Garrett?

Oh God. Not some random hookup. Someone who knew them both. Now would be a good time for lights.

He rolled and snapped on the bedside light as his body cooled far faster than he would have liked.

Callie Jones blinked at him from the other side of his bed, her brown hair mussed from his fingers and her plump lips swollen from the kisses that he should regret but didn’t. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her very nice breasts that he could not unfeel even with the help of an entire case of wine.

The really sucky part was that he’d have to force himself to slash every memory of tonight from his mind because she was interested in Dylan, and there were some lines you didn’t cross.

Garrett didn’t bother to pull up the sheet in kind because it was a little late for that. What are you doing in Dylan’s bed?

The scowl she shot him was so black it should have peeled his face off. "What are you doing in Dylan’s bed?"

We switched rooms.

Oh God. She buried her face in one hand, presumably so disappointed with the situation that she couldn’t even look at him, and pulled on the sheet as she scrambled backward, away from him.

Reflexively he smacked a hand down on the rapidly disappearing cover that was the only thing between him and his birthday suit. Whoa. Unless your goal is for me to perform an involuntary striptease.

Something that sounded like a cross between a meep and a groan shot out as she froze again, mortification staining her cheeks.

And the reality of the situation went to hell in a handbasket faster than he could credit.

He’d just felt up Callie Jones, Simone’s friend. They’d hung out a few times back home in Coronado. He’d sat across from Callie at the rehearsal dinner just last night, and she’d toasted the bride and groom with a lot more sincerity than most of the guests. Rare was the friend or family member who had expressed unswerving support of the marriage that most had predicted wouldn’t last a year.

They were all wrong. It