SEAL's Purpose: Team Oracle Security, #2

By Leslie North

A museum mystery might be the perfect way for this former Navy SEAL and single mom to succumb to their desires…

After a career-ending injury, former Navy SEAL Greg Harrison struggles to find his place in society. When his friend offers him a job working private security, he's uninspired—until he meets his first clients. Mattie Salisbury and her cute daughter, Liza, immediately strike a chord with the tough SEAL, and he'll do whatever it takes to protect them.

It has nothing to do with the fact Mattie is gorgeous—she needs help, that's all. The museum she works for is supposedly haunted, and it's ruining business. Greg is determined to keep things professional—that is, until Mattie tries to kiss him…

What a huge mistake—Mattie must have misread Greg's signals because when she tries to kiss the hottest man she's ever seen, it doesn't go well. At all. But when Greg kisses her, only to apologize for his behavior, she can't deny there's an irresistible attraction. But neither of them needs the distraction while trying to solve the mystery of a volatile "ghost". If only they could keep their hands off each other…

Maybe it's time to take a chance.

Or maybe the sexy SEAL's mixed signals are a sign a future with Greg is about as real as the "ghost" haunting her museum.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Mar 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201667269

Book preview

1

Greg Harrison stood in front of the reception desk at Team Oracle Security and did his best not to fidget. The woman behind the desk—late twenties, blue eyes, brown hair cut into a sleek bob, nose ring sparkling in the sun and earrings that were shaped like… coffins?—gave him a warm, friendly smile. Her name plaque said Harper Bell. Despite her quirky style, she looked far hipper and more self-assured than Greg could ever hope to be. Have a seat over there, Mr. Harrison. The office manager will be with you shortly.

The busy phone on her desk rang again and she turned away from him to answer it while Greg hauled his anxious, awkward ass over to the waiting area.

He wasn’t a fidgeter by nature, but this was the first day of his new job and damn if he didn’t feel uncomfortable as hell. Not that there was anything wrong with the place. From the shiny wood floors and the sharp scent of fresh paint in the air, everything was brand new. Fitting, he supposed, given that his situation was new too.

He'd always planned on making his military career a lifetime thing, traveling the world with his brothers in arms, seeing the sights and protecting democracy wherever needed. But then an explosion had caused permanent injury to his right arm, stopping his career in its tracks a year ago. He’d come home, done the grueling work of physical therapy, found a desk job that he hated but that paid the bills, and tried to lean in to his relationship with his girlfriend to give himself some sense that his life hadn’t completely fallen apart. Then, of course, she’d broken up with him two months ago. So…plans derailed. Big time.

Smiling politely at the woman who took a seat behind the desk, Greg cleared his throat and forced his mind to concentrate on the here and now, not things in his past that could never be changed.

It’s so great to finally have you start, the woman said. Hope Miller, he knew. Logan’s wife. He’d met her briefly when Logan had introduced them. He and Logan had served together on the same SEAL team, though they’d fallen out of touch for a stretch after Greg’s medical discharge a year earlier. It wasn’t until he’d heard that Logan was back in Baltimore—and planning to open a security agency—that they’d gotten back in touch. In truth, Logan had gotten in touch, convincing Greg that joining up with his brand-new agency was the right choice. Greg still wasn’t completely sure that he agreed—but Logan Miller was not a man known for taking no for an answer. Just look at his relationship with Hope. It hadn’t been that long ago that the two had been completely estranged—but now they were happily married with an adorable baby girl. And apparently working together, too, though Logan hadn’t mentioned that part when he’d taken Greg out to lunch to convince him to take the job. He wondered what her role was in the business.

She flipped open his file and frowned down at it, then glanced back up at him. Since this is your orientation, how about we start by me telling you a bit about what we do here at Team Oracle Security.

Sounds good, Greg said, shifting slightly in his seat to ease the strain on his right arm. Still ached like a son of a bitch sometimes, especially on days when it was overcast, like today. Forget meteorologists. If you wanted to know when rain was moving in, just ask his arm. The arthritis was never wrong.

Perfect. And please, call me Hope. We’re pretty informal around here. And you met Harper, our administrative assistant on the way in. She’ll help you get situated and keep you organized on your cases.

Okay. Greg glanced back at the woman behind the receptionist desk then said, She seems interesting.

She’s great. Her style might be a little off-beat, but she’s smart as a whip and incredibly organized. Not to mention, she’s great with people. She wins over even our most conservative clients in no time. I’m sure you’d agree that judging a person by their physical appearance alone can be deceiving.

Hope’s genuine smile never faded, but Greg saw the conviction in her eyes. And yeah. He totally got that. He rubbed his sore right arm, then gave a curt nod. Agreed.

Glad to hear it, she said, then started in on her spiel. Now Team Oracle is different from most of our competitors in the personal security industry. You see, we don’t just provide bodyguard details for our clients. We also offer investigation services to help get to the root of why our clients are in danger.

Huh. Well, that was different—and it explained how Hope fit into the business since he knew she was a top-notch investigator, with the best-selling true crime books to prove it. But where did he fit into the picture? Greg had been a bit wary of the whole security aspect, seeing as how he was still adjusting to being a left-hander now, and his skills weren’t back up to his exacting standards yet. Oh, he could write and most other things just fine, but retraining himself in shooting or fighting had taken longer than he’d liked, since he’d been right-handed his whole life until the accident. He’d regained his marksmanship level again with his left hand, but it had taken time and he still hesitated to fully trust it.

He nodded. Wow. Okay. Well, that’s interesting, Hope. But you and Logan should know upfront I don’t have any training in investigations.

No, I see that now, she said, frowning at his file again.

But that shouldn’t stop you from learning, right, buddy? a male voice said from the back. Logan emerged from the hallway, walking over to shake Greg’s hand. Glad to have you on the team, man.

Greg smiled. Thanks. I appreciate the opportunity, I really do. But now that I’m learning more about the job…I’m wondering if I’m the right guy for it.

I believe you are. Logan rested a hip on the edge of his wife’s desk. Honestly, I know you don’t have the background, but I think you’ll be great at this. You’re more than capable of handling the bodyguard aspect of the job, and what you lack in formal training on the investigation side you can make up for by being the smart, observant, canny SEAL you were trained to be. There’s no one I’d trust more than a fellow frogman to have my back, and your service gives you a great understanding of people.

Would that really be enough to protect a client when his or her life was on the line? Greg just wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to let his buddy down when Logan seemed to really want him in the role—but if he wasn’t the right fit, then wouldn’t leaving be the right choice? That way, Logan could find someone better qualified instead.

Logan must have read the doubts on his face because he continued. Look, I get the hesitation. I do. Hasn’t been that long since I left the SEALs myself. It’s a different world out here and change is hard. So, how about we try it this way? We can start with a trial case. One job. You can get your feet wet here, see what we’re all about, and decide if it’s the right fit. If we’re both satisfied with the outcome, then you hire on full time. Otherwise, we part as friends, no hard feelings. What do you say?

It sounded like a good deal, at least on the surface, but Greg was still hesitant. Even more so as he watched Logan and Hope together. They had an easy camaraderie and affection that made his chest ache in a weird way. Not with envy, exactly—he was happy for his friend and was pleased to see the contentment he’d found in his marriage—but something close. Loneliness. Dammit. He missed his SEAL team. Missed his ex too, truth be told. Things hadn’t been great between him and Marian, granted, especially towards the end. Their chemistry had been off the charts, but their personalities had been totally different. It hadn’t been a problem when he was an active-duty SEAL, seeing her only for short stretches that they mostly spent in bed. When they were around each other day in and day out, things hadn’t taken long to crumble. She’d made the right call in ending things. Still, he’d depended on her being there more than he’d realized. With her gone, along with the job that he’d thought would define him, there was a void in his life he doubted anyone could fill.

Not that he planned to let anyone try. He had enough to worry about right now. Especially if this job didn’t work out, and he had to go groveling back to his old boss and the desk job he hated.

He sighed. Common sense said he should take the offer, whether his gut told him he belonged there or not. Frankly, he didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere anymore, so it wasn’t like this place was different.

Have a look at this, Hope said, handing him a file across the desk. It’s your trial case, if you’re willing to give it a shot. The client is Ms. Mattie Salisbury. She runs a museum in Westminster and wants us to look into a series of disturbances around the place. She thinks someone is deliberately trying to make people think her museum is haunted to keep people away and force her out of business. She’s hired us to find evidence she can take to the police to prove her case.

Hmm. He flipped open the folder and flicked through the papers inside. Museums weren’t exactly his thing and acting as some kind of guard against the paranormal sounded ridiculous at best. But then he came across the photo of Mattie Salisbury and a kid who could only be hers—a little girl who shared her curly brown hair and big brown eyes. They were standing in front of what had to be the museum in question—a smaller place than he’d expected—and there was a strange pinch in his heart. Especially when Hope told him that if they couldn’t get to the bottom of the supposed hauntings, Mattie would have to shut down the museum for good. She’d lose her job. Having gone through the same horrible experience himself, Greg didn’t want anyone else to have to experience it. Especially a single mom. Family had always meant a lot to him—and he hated the thought of seeing this one left out in the cold.

He shouldn’t have looked at the picture. Attaching a face to things always made it more personal. Then, of course, there was the fact that Mattie Salisbury was beautiful too, in that wholesome, innocent, corn-fed way he liked. Shit. That shouldn’t matter. And yet, it did.

Part of him was screaming that he should hand the file back and say no thanks, but he couldn’t. It would feel too close to turning his back on real people who needed help, and he’d sworn to protect those in need.

Fine, he said, closing the folder. "I’ll take it, but only on a trial basis, like you said.

Excellent! Hope clapped while Logan slapped him on the back.

Glad to have you on board, buddy. Logan grinned at him. I’ll call Mattie this afternoon and set up your first meeting for tomorrow morning.

Westminster was about 36 miles northwest of Baltimore. He’d allowed extra time for heavy traffic, but the roads had been clear for once, so he ended up arriving about a half-hour earlier than expected. He used his extra time to study up on the case in his car while he waited. This being his first security job, he wanted to do well.

Greg peered out at the museum across the street, noting that it was housed in an old mansion. According to the file, the place had been built back in the 1800s and used to be an inn. Eventually, it had been bought by some rich family in the 1970s who’d converted it into a private residence. After they’d all died, it got turned into a museum.

Greg glanced at the place again, taking in the elaborate woodwork and architectural detail, including a couple of turrets that reminded him of some gothic novel, and he felt something bubbling inside him he hadn’t felt in quite a while—excitement. He chuckled and shook his head. Imagine that. Him getting an adrenaline rush over guarding some old house. But as silly as it might sound, it felt pretty nice, actually. And the challenge of securing the place did intrigue him. He checked his watch, then got out of the car. From the group of tourists gathering, it seemed that a tour was scheduled to start soon. He decided to join it, figuring it might give him a good layout of the task ahead.

The volunteer ticket seller took his money, then directed him and the others up the stairs to the massive wraparound front porch. As they walked inside to a huge foyer full of parquet floors and expensive-looking antiques, he couldn’t help hearing the whispers of the guests around him, gossiping among themselves about the rumors of the hauntings. Then Mattie came down the stairs, and Greg’s attention focused on her.

Welcome to Marley Manor. We’re so glad to have you with us today, she said, her clear, lilting voice drifted over the crowd of about ten people, full of good cheer and friendliness. Greg couldn’t help checking her out, noting that the picture didn’t do her justice. Curvy, tan, maybe five-five or five-six. There was a vivaciousness about her that kept his gaze riveted on her, like he couldn’t wait to see what she did next. Apparently, she felt the same way about him, since he hadn’t missed the way she was checking him out. At six-four, he was used to standing out in a crowd, but that wasn’t why she was watching him. He knew interest when he saw it. Plus, there was the way her cheeks pinkened prettily when she realized he’d caught her staring. He liked that—quite a lot, actually. Not that he’d do anything about it, of course. She was the client, and he was a professional—at least for now, on a trial basis. And his heart had gone through the shredder recently enough that he wasn’t eager to try again. But he could enjoy seeing appreciation in a beautiful woman’s eyes.

Anyway, she said, continuing down the stairs to the bottom, how about we get our tour started?

Damn. Greg had been hoping some old docent would lead the tour so he wouldn’t be distracted by Mattie, but no such luck. They started through the first-floor parlor, and he forced himself to focus on his surroundings. It was fine. Shouldn’t matter who gave the tour anyway. He was here to work, that’s all. If Mattie was gorgeous and charming, that was her problem, not his.

Except the unwanted tingle of awareness through his nervous system said it might be his problem too. Shit. He took note of all the entry points and escape routes, more from rote than anything, then followed the tour across the foyer and into the next room, a library, doing his best to concentrate on the layout of the house and not the woman speaking in animated tones near a large carved mahogany desk.

The longer they walked around the place though, the more Greg realized the museum was going