Cricket Under Fire: A Warrior's Passion, #1

By Natasza Waters

Military Romance - Rayne Levy's new career is about to take an explosive turn.

Rayne's excited about her future. Hired by NAB Coronado as a tactical analyst at Base Command, she's up for the challenge. She meets Lt. Elijah Bach, a rugged Navy SEAL with a sizzling reputation. His men respect him, but Rayne's training officer warns her that the handsome warrior and proverbial bachelor is a boatload of trouble.  

Tasked on Operation: Tropic Tango, Elijah is partnered with Rayne. Her inexperience isn't a problem. She's intelligent, tenacious and determined to prove herself. For six months he's struggled to keep his distance. From the sidelines, he's watched her confidence soar. Now, they're thrown together on a mission. Concealing his hunger is one thing. Defying the slow-burn of desire is another, but when Rayne walks too close to the flames, his control unravels, and so does his ability to resist what he wants most.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasza Waters
• Release date: Nov 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9780995259874

Natasza Waters

Natasza Waters debuted her first romance novel in 2011 for readers who enjoy a cup of romance with a twist of steam. After majoring in English, Natasza's life altered course. After thirty-four years of service in the Coast Guard, a few crow's feet, and deeper laugh lines, she now spends her days crafting stories. Readers can look forward to romance, action, and suspense in her award-winning novels.

Book preview

A cup of romance with a twist of steam.

Cricket Under Fire

A Warrior’s Passion Series

Book One

Natasza Waters

Sensual Romance

CRICKET UNDER FIRE (Book One) A Warrior’s Passion series

Copyright © 2019 Natasza Waters

E-book ISBN: 978-0-9952598-7-4

First Publication: November 2019

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission from the copyright holder.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Other Books by Nat

Dedication

Mom and Dad.

Together again for eternity.

Through my tears, I smile.

Acknowledgment

A big thank you to Carolyn Shelly Depew owner of Write Right Edits.

Waters’ Warriors, for posting articles and memes that keep us smiling, and for your support.

Dawné Dominique, your creativity with covers never ceases to amaze me.

Sheri Fredricks, crit partner extraordinaire and bestie who lives too far away.

For my readers who enjoy a cup of romance with a twist of steam.

Cricket Under Fire

Chapter One

Amass of butterflies in Rayne’s belly took flight as she approached the security gatehouse of NAB Coronado, located on the Silver Strand in San Diego. Cool air blasted from the car’s vents to ward off the August sun, which blessed them with another beautiful day. She waited her turn while three guards wearing Navy camo checked identification as the vehicles pulled up, one at a time, to the main entrance.

A guard waved her up. No matter how badly her knees shook, there was no turning back now. The young man leaned in her open window for a visual check inside her vehicle.

Have an appointment? he asked, taking the ID she offered while sizing her up like a suspicious cop.

Wiping her moist palm on her black dress pants first, she then passed him the letter she’d received. Interview at Base Command with Captain Redding.

Without so much as a smile, he wrote her name on a clipboard and recorded her license plate number.

Wear this at all times while on the base, he ordered, handing her a visitor’s pass and her license.

Yes, sir.

Not a ‘sir,’ he fired back.

Wow, grumpy much? Can you tell me where the building is?

He offered her a quick explanation—go left, go left, go right, then park. Carry on, he said and stepped back, waving the car waiting behind her up to the gatehouse.

Although she’d lived in San Diego since she was a teenager, she’d never been on the base and had no clue where she was going. After parking her silver Honda Civic, her legs resembled Jell-O walking toward the front doors of a beige building, but she kept moving, determined to live up to the qualifications she’d submitted on her resume.

About to reach for the metal handle, the tinted glass door swung open. A man emerged, wearing a khaki shirt and trousers. Several rows of colored ribbons sat above his left breast pocket. Through her research, and she’d done as much as possible to prep for the interview, she recognized the Budweiser, or SEAL trident. A man with a powerful build and taller than six feet nearly mowed her over.

Apparently seeing her at the last second, he halted. Sorry, he said gruffly.

Rayne moved aside so he could pass, noting the name Bach on his name tag and the two silver bars on his collar, indicating he was a lieutenant. Two other men followed him out, wearing work uniforms, but they weren’t officers if she’d memorized the US Navy rank system correctly.

When the other men exited, Lt. Bach held the door for her. You look a little lost, he said, the brim of his cap hiding most of his features, except for a chiseled jaw.

I’m looking for Captain Redding’s office at Base Command.

Second floor. Take the elevator. Admin assistant’s desk is front and center when you exit.

She blew out a breath, her nerves sparking with adrenaline. Great. Thank you.

A barely perceptible smile hitched up the edges of his lips. My pleasure.

Following his instructions, she got off on the second floor and approached the admin assistant sitting behind a maple desk. Colored binders and folders left little room for anything else on the shelves behind the secretary. The woman, somewhere in her fifties and dressed in casual business attire, greeted her with a smile.

Hi, I’m Rayne Levy. I’m here for an interview with Captain Redding.

The woman shoved her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose. Captain Redding is running a little late. Have a seat.

She backtracked to the grey chairs perched against the wall. A few minutes later, a red-haired woman in her thirties emerged from the hallway on the left. Her glinting green eyes zeroed in on Rayne.

Hiya. Are you Rayne?

She tucked her clutch purse under her left arm and stood up. Yes, ma’am.

The woman chuckled. I’m not commissioned. She offered her hand. Nina Callahan. Red’s running really late and he asked me to give you a tour of the ops room. Besides, she winked at her, if you get the job, I’m going to be showing ya the ropes.

That’s great, thanks.

Follow me.

At the end of the hall was a large metal door, reminding her of a hatch on a ship. Nina stopped, slipped a card that hung on a lanyard around her neck through the reader and punched in a four-digit code on the panel. A lock retracted with a click, and she yarded on the heavy door that seemed more like the entrance to a vault than a communications center.

It’s high security around this place, Nina said, waiting for her to enter, then closing the door.

Goosebumps rippled across her skin, and Rayne rubbed her arms.

You get used to wearing sweaters around here, Nina said.

Starting at one end of the room, Nina gave her the grand tour, explaining the reasons Base Command existed and touched on the staff’s responsibilities as they wandered through the dimly lit space. Intimidated but excited, Rayne soaked it all in. A man sat at a console, his rapt attention on a computer monitor with a multicolored map and a lot of text on the split screen.

Say hello, Dave, Nina said.

He lifted an arm, but didn’t turn. Hello, Dave.

How long have you worked here? Rayne asked Nina.

Seven years in the US. Ten years in the Canadian DND before that.

Nina paused in front of a console with six radar monitors. From the mapping, Rayne recognized San Diego Bay and the area all the way out to San Clemente Island.

Nina quizzed her, and she named the majority of points, bays and coves.

You know your geography, Nina stated. That’s going to make my job a lot easier.

My dad’s in the marine industry. Twenty-five years in all. Before becoming a ships’ pilot, he spent five years in the Navy. Mom did a few stints as a secretary, but never found a career she loved more than taking care of her family.

So your family spends a lot of time on the water? Nina pointed at a leather high-backed chair on casters, inviting her to sit.

I was actually born on my parents’ forty foot Bayliner. Mom went into labor while cruising offshore. Dad delivered me.

Rayne couldn’t miss how incredibly beautiful Nina was, with an athletic build and high cheekbones like a model.

Her maybe mentor smiled. Must mean you’ve got saltwater in your veins.

A little, but I don’t really know if that’s going to help with the interview. Guess I’m winging it. I studied as much as I could about NAB and the Navy SEALs.

Red—Captain Redding—obviously liked something he saw on your resume. Don’t worry about how much you know about NAB or Special Warfare Operations. If hired, your training is going to entail about five months of eye-rolling, head-bobbing, rote shit. Everything from procedures to equipment, to tactical analysis training. It’s pretty in-depth, but if you’re serious about sticking around, you should be able to run Base Command with no problem. Do you have any other education? College?

I do. After high school, I wasn’t certain which direction to take. I wanted a career. I just didn’t know what I wanted, exactly.

Always wise to stand on your own feet before meeting the man of your dreams. Boyfriend?

She may have graduated with honors, but Rayne had failed at being anyone’s significant other. Nope. She added a shrug, as if it were no big deal.

Nina grinned. Yeah, there are plenty of available men in this town. Finding a one-night stand isn’t hard. Finding a long-term boyfriend, not as easy.

Rayne darted a look at Nina’s left hand, noting the glistening diamond wedding ring.

The woman crossed one long leg over the other. My daughter, Gabs, is fifteen, and my son, Patrick, is six. I should probably warn you about SEALs. They’re a pain in the ass.

She chuckled. I don’t know any, so I’ll take your word for it.

Nina’s brows lifted. Please do. Since I married one, I speak with confidence.

She liked the woman’s sharp tongue and wit to match. Personality traits Rayne didn’t really have.

As for finding a heart-pounding, forever boyfriend... she still had time. People thought of San Diego as a predominantly Navy town, even though the county bloomed with diversity and over three million people. Most folks knew at least someone who served their country. But she wasn’t in search of a ring-bearing, white-picket-fence kinda guy at NAB. All she wanted was a career.

Rayne looked around the room filled with modern technology. After high school, I considered enlisting in the Navy. For about a second.

Nina used a mouse to click on the menu of one of her radars and then acquired a target. With a quick visual search, she seemed happy that everything was in order. Yeah, I hear ya. I’ve always been a civilian, but working here and marrying a SEAL, I think they should give me a commission. Where did you go to college?

San Diego State. I majored in Anthropology, then bounced here and there until I reached Women’s Studies, basically going through the entire alphabet of majors. Nothing seemed to fit.

Summer jobs?

Work wasn’t a necessity, but I had summer employment. I’d earned two scholarships and my parents helped. Luckily, I lived at home and commuted. The first summer, I worked in the San Diego pilot’s dispatch office.

Thanks to Dad, Nina said.

Rayne nodded. The next summer I spent as a Harbor Master’s assistant. A glorified title for gopher. Then followed up with a couple of marinas. During my last summer before graduating, I worked on a charter vessel. Spent eight hours a day walking the decks with a microphone and headset onboard a yacht that did two-hour tours of San Diego Harbor. She shrugged. I already knew the port like the back of my hand. That’s why they hired me.

Red mentioned you’re twenty-five.

Twenty-six in a few days, but she didn’t need to reveal everything to Nina. Rayne knew someone would query her on why it took so long to figure out what she wanted in life. Yeah, that. She pressed the heels of her palms together. At least they weren’t sweaty. Because I bounced around between majors, it took me longer to graduate. Eventually, a program called ISCOR drew my attention. The International Security and Conflict Resolution major. Everything from global affairs to terrorism. I loved the subject matter.

Bingo, Nina said, grinning. And that’s the reason you got the job interview.

You think?

You bet. This job is mainly communications and eventually tactical analysis, but with your core studies from the program and your marine background, I think you checked enough boxes to get a shot working at the base without having to give up your civilian status.

The door to the ops room cracked open and an elderly gentleman walked in using a cane. He moved with a perceptible limp, but still held an aura of a man in charge.

Nina stood. Captain Redding, I’d like you to meet Miss Rayne Levy.

Nice to meet you, young lady, and I’m sorry for my tardiness. Brass was up my ass again. He winked. Not that I’m not used to it.

He panned a look toward Nina, who gave him a thumbs up. Rayne hoped that was a sign of her approval.

We’ll conduct the interview in my office. This way.

Rayne waved goodbye to Nina and followed the captain to his office, which was just outside the main hatch and to the right. She settled in the beige guest chair and made a quick survey of the walls painted in a soothing moss green. Glancing around, the room had the typical administrative décor with file cabinets and books shelves. A framed black-and-white photo hung behind the captain’s desk. She couldn’t help but stare.

A group of men, SEALs, she guessed, stood in front of a camouflaged tent in a barren desert landscape. Some of the men straddled a weapon across their arms, others had the rifle strap hooked over their shoulder. They wore bandanas and shades. These rugged-looking men had risked their lives to serve their country. She surprised herself when a lump of humbleness and pride lodged in her throat. United States Navy SEALs, how cool was that!

Captain Redding smiled and swiveled his chair. That’s Team One Alpha Squad, when I was their lieutenant.

She blinked, feeling a little silly that tears glazed her eyes. The picture was so nostalgic. A brotherhood of heroic men who fought together. How long ago was that?

Quite a few years, as you can see by the white strands in my hair. The man on the far right is now an admiral. His name is Thane Austen. He married Kayla Banks, who was my best tactical analyst here at Base Command. They’re currently stationed in Hawaii. The tall fellow standing to the left of Ghost, that was Austen’s team name by the way, was a fine warrior. His name was Patrick Cobbs.

Was? she asked. Does that mean?

The captain nodded. Yes, he gave his life during an operation here in the US. His picture is hanging upstairs in the hallway, outside of a conference room named after him. I was honored to work with some very fine SEALs in my day. I’ll be retiring soon, if my wife, Lydia, has her way. I’m all out of excuses, but I don’t regret a minute.

Rayne smiled. My dad’s been a marine pilot for twenty-five years. Five years in the Navy before that. He has no intention of retiring any time soon. He loves what he does.

Redding opened a file folder on his desk. That’s a good job. He must know his stuff.

He does. She sat up and crossed her legs. I know I don’t have a military background, sir, but after Nina’s tour of the comm center, I hope you’ll consider me for the position. She glanced to her right, toward a window on the far wall, and noticed it was one-way glass and she could see Nina and Dave working at their consoles. I’m familiar with the marine industry, the geography, and with my bachelor’s degree in the ISCOR program, I have basic knowledge of international security issues and global affairs.

Captain Redding offered a comforting smile. Then let’s begin the interview.

At sixteen hundred hours, or four o’clock, as civilians called it, Nina escorted her from Base Command. You must have hit it out of the park, girlfriend, Nina said. Congratulations.

She wanted to whoop and jump at the same time. I can’t believe it. I didn’t expect him to decide today.

The redhead chuckled. Well, that’s your first lesson around this place. No moss grows on anything. She snapped her fingers. Fast action. Swift decisions. Staff on this base want answers yesterday. The officers want it before everyone else. She pointed up the road. Let’s head over to the galley for a cup of coffee. I’ll give you a quick tour of the base as we go.

Nina was like a non-stop recording of facts and figures until they reached the chow hall. By the time Nina pushed on the doors leading into the mess, Rayne’s brain cells swelled with new acronyms, names, and general details about the Special Forces Command.

They entered the mess hall, which could easily fit a