Free Fallen SEAL Legacy by Sharon Hamilton Page A

depression he almost went to a shrink about. Didn’t want it on his record, so he held off. He just couldn’t look at the guys he’d spent Gary’s last night on the beach with again without getting torn up inside. He asked for a reassignment and it was granted ten days later. And he never took a drink again.
    Rest in Peace, Gary. He finished off his mineral water and started chewing ice, which meant he was nervous as hell.
    I need to go home. He needed a good rest. His muscles were going to be sore with two PTs today, and all the roughhousing they’d done at the beach.
    Kyle and the new guy entered the bar.
    “Sorry we’re late. Good to see you here, Coop.” Kyle slapped him on the back and took a stool next to him. The new guy sat on the other side.
    “Fredo get a date?”
    “He’s over at Mia’s with Armani.”
    “Good for him.” Fredo had a major crush on Armando’s wild child little sister. Coop looked at the new guy. “We haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Calvin Cooper,” he said when he extended his hand over the bar, in front of Kyle.
    “Malcolm Jones.” The guy was handsome as hell. Big, strong hands.
    “You’re that guy,” Kyle said.
    “What guy?” asked Malcolm.
    “‘I’m your father, Luke.’ That guy.”
    Jones grinned.
    “Malcolm here is giving us a tryout. Graduated top of his class at the Academy.” Kyle’s eyes sparkled in the light of the television over the bar.
    Cooper whistled. “Gimme your arm then, Darth Vader.” Coop said to Jones.
    “Come on?” the handsome Lieutenant asked.
    “Your arm. I gotta see if you got the mark.” Cooper was going to rub it in.
    Jones rolled his eyes and presented his bare left forearm. Cooper guffawed. “That’s what I thought. A virgin.”
    This upset Jones, who gave an angry scowl. “What the fuck you sayin’? I’m no virgin.”
    Kyle helped, “You don’t have the tats. Everyone on our team gets the frog prints from here to here.” He pointed from his wrist to the inside of his elbow.
    Cooper added, “Except in your case, they’re gonna have to do it twice so it will show up.”
    “I got tats,” Jones spat out with a frown.
    “Yeah? Where?” Kyle asked.
    Jones pulled down the polo shirt collar to reveal an anchor tat on his bicep.
    Cooper and Kyle burst out laughing. Jones quickly covered up. Kyle added, “Nobody in the Navy Special Forces gets anchors. That’s for fleet scum. Didn’t they teach you that at the Academy?”
    Jones focused back on his beer and there was a long pause.
    “Where you from, Malcolm?” Coop asked. He could tell they’d maybe rubbed the guy too hard about the tats.
    “Texas. Folks still live there,” Jones said without making eye contact.
    Cooper took in air quickly. His hands trembled. His old instinct of reaching for a beer came back and he took on some ice cubes, starting to crunch them down loudly.
    “Sorry, Coop. Heard about your people. Real sorry for your loss, man.” Jones was trying to be a good guy, but Coop was too pained to look back at him.
    The three of them were quiet, not looking at each other.
    “Well, aren’t we a pathetic sack of bones? Kinda reminds us of the old Team guys trying to relive their glory days.” Kyle said, leaning first toward Cooper and then Malcolm.
    “Yeah,” Coop whispered. “Look, man, I’m dog tired. Beat as all hell. I had a good swim before you guys showed up. Even went surfing early this morning. And I’m afraid I’m terrible company.”
    Jones was staring into his beer. Coop knew he felt bad about bringing his family up, but the guy was just being nice.
    “I can trust you to go home?” Kyle asked.
    “I’m okay. Sorry I wasted your evening, Landmine.”
    “Oh, hell, don’t be. Christy has designs on my body.”
    Coop laughed and knew it was probably completely true.
    “I shouldn’t be here, but just wanted to make sure you were taken care of, Coop.” He paused and then asked, “Daisy coming over?”
    That got Jones’s