"What's he doing?" It was Dave's turn to ask as he watched Jenk opening the passenger-side door of a truck.

"I don't know," Izzy admitted. "But that's my ride. We drove down here together. Maybe he's getting something from his bag."

As they got closer, they could see that Jenk had indeed gotten something-his cell phone. He held it to his ear, pointing to a parking space in the next row over, empty in the midst of all those vehicles.

"You don't know she was parked there," Izzy said.

"Were you parked almost directly across from Zanella?" Jenk said into his phone.

Was he talking to...?

"She was parked there," Jenk announced.

"Looks like he found her," Izzy said. "Did you find her?" he asked Jenk who nodded. Yes. "Jenk found her," he shouted-words to draw a crowd.

Jenk was laughing at whatever Lindsey was telling him, his relief making him lean against the truck. He wiped the sweat from his face with his free hand. "Jesus, you scared the crap out of me. Yeah...Yeah, okay. I will. I'm...glad you're safe." He hung up his phone. "Lindsey's at the Ladybug Lounge," he told them. "She wants to know what's taking us so long."

"She got past us?" Some of the SEALs still couldn't believe it. "No way."

Both Commander Koehl and Tom Paoletti had come over.

"About time someone checked the parking lot," Tom said to the commander.

"It was one of mine," Koehl pointed out. "Good job, Jenkins."

"Yeah, you guys lost, and you know it," Tom scoffed.

"Your team lost, too."

"Yup." Tom smiled happily. "Losing provides such good life lessons, don't you think, Lew?"

"Absolutely, Tom."

Jenk was staring at them both, his mouth open. He finally found his voice. "You set this up? You knew where Lindsey was this whole time?"

"I didn't know she was at the Bug. Did you?" Tom asked Koehl, who shook his head, no. "That's pretty impressive. She's definitely the winner here." He shot a pointed look at Koehl. "She's one of mine."

Jenk interrupted, raising his voice so everyone could hear him. "Lindsey says if we can get over to the Bug in the next forty minutes, the first round's on Tommy and Commander Koehl."

"Oh, really?" Tom said.

Jenkins shrugged expansively. "Sorry, sirs. I'm just reporting what she said to me."

Tom exchanged a glance with the commander. Apparently words weren't needed between the two COs of SEAL Team Sixteen, one past, one present. Koehl nodded, and Tom said, "Well then, what's everyone still standing around here for?"

CHAPTER.

SEVEN.

Mark Jenkins must've been on his cell phone for the entire drive over to the Ladybug Lounge.

Lindsey knew this because the Troubleshooters and the SEALs from Team Sixteen came into the bar in one huge, massively organized group that could only be Jenk's doing. They all dropped to their knees on the grungy wood floor, kowtowing before her.

Sam Starrett and Alyssa Locke. Decker, Nash, and Tess. The SEALs' scary-looking senior chief. The team's even scarier XO, Jazz Jacquette. Enlisted and officers alike-Nilsson, Muldoon, MacInnough, and many more whose names she couldn't remember. They were all grinning at her.

Tom Paoletti and Commander Koehl didn't get down on the floor, but they did come over to shake her hand.

"Excellent job," Tom said. "I have to admit, you exceeded my expectations by about a thousand percent."

Lindsey narrowed her eyes at him. "So what are you saying, boss? You didn't believe me? You thought I was maybe exaggerating?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "It's one thing to have E&E experience. It's another thing entirely to evade personnel who have the kind of training and skill our people have. Larry Decker tried to track you, Linds-he found no trail. None. At all."

"I should hope not," Lindsey said. She lifted her glass. "To Grandpa Henry, who taught me everything I know. Well, almost everything."

There was much laughter at that, but then everyone in the room lifted their glasses-at least those who'd managed to get their drink orders filled. "To Grandpa Henry!"

Jenkins was standing to Tom's left smiling his ass off at her, with Izzy behind him. This was what it must've felt like to be Tracy Shapiro. Always surrounded by attractive, attentive men, at least one of whom found her...What was that quaint expression? Bangable.

"I want you to do a debrief with my men," Commander Koehl told her. It was amazing how different his delivery was from Tom's. Tom made orders sound like requests. Koehl made requests sound like orders.

Straightlaced, Jenk had called him. Stuffy. Formal. Old-fashioned. But day-am, Skippy. His jawline was a work of art.

"I'm sure we can arrange that, sir," Lindsey told Koehl.

"With all due respect, sir, I can't believe you were in on this," Jenk accused the commander.

"It was Paoletti's idea," Koehl admitted with a far-too-fleeting smile. "Create a lose/lose scenario. Make it a total Charlie Foxtrot. Get Admiral Tucker's grudge match out of the way, so we can get down to some real training."

Apparently, this was a night of surprises for Jenk. "We're doing additional training with Tommy's Troubleshooters?" he asked his commanding officer.

"Isn't it obvious we need it?" Koehl's cell phone was ringing, and he glanced at it. "Excuse me. Ma'am." He nodded at Lindsey as he escaped to find a quiet corner to take his call.

"We haven't discussed a timetable yet," Tom said, "but as much as we'd like for it to happen ASAP, it's probably not going to happen until early next year." He, too, backed away. "I'm proud you're on my team," he told Lindsey.

"Thank you, sir," she said.

Tom grabbed Izzy by the arm, pulling the SEAL with him. "Got a minute, Zanella?"

Her boss was as subtle as a two-by-four to the face. It was embarrassingly obvious that he knew that Lindsey wanted some one-on-one time with Jenk-not easy in a crowded bar where she'd been crowned Queen for a Day.

Still, Jenk didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, it didn't frighten him. He put his bottle of beer down and slipped onto the barstool next to her. "So, wow."

"Yeah," Lindsey said. "Tom's pretty smart, isn't he? This was all his idea."

"The hostage vanishes, and no one wins." Jenkins laughed. It was funny, he looked far less tired now that the exercise was over, despite the hours spent running and hiding. She knew from experience that hiding took up an enormous amount of energy. She, herself, was going to sleep very well tonight. "It's brilliant."

"When Tom spoke to me about it," Lindsey admitted, "he was very concerned for your morale-you know, of Team Sixteen's. I think he was afraid if you won, some of you would have a mixed reaction to having beaten him, since he's your former commander. He's very aware that many of the guys in Sixteen are still extremely loyal to him. And he's equally aware that the jury's still out on Koehl."

"Yeah." Jenk took a sip of his beer, and the movement of his arm made his T-shirt tighten across his chest. He had a streak of dirt on his sleeve and his arm. In fact, he looked as if a cloud of dust would shake free from his clothes if he stood in front of a fan. "Koehl's not...He's respected. He's a solid leader, no one disputes that. It's just..."

"He's not Tom," Lindsey finished for him, and he smiled as he met her eyes.

Lindsey's heart flipped. God help her.

"Yeah, he's very much not Tommy," he admitted, gazing down at his beer, angling the bottle slightly so he could see the label. Was he as freaked out by the spark from that brief eye contact as she was? Probably not, because he looked back at her almost right away. "He's a different kind of leader. He's old-school. More regular Navy. All yes sir and aye, aye sir all the time. Tommy, on the other hand, was a cookout CO. You know, always inviting the team-officers and enlisted-over to his house for burgers and beer."

Lindsey had to laugh as she polished off the last of her wine. "He does love a good party." She risked another glance back at Jenk. He was watching her, so she pretended to be fascinated by the dregs in the bottom of her glass.

"I miss him." Jenk sighed. "We all do. Still, it could be worse."

He began making patterns on the bar with the condensation from his bottle, which meant that Lindsey could look at him without risk of meltdown.

"Think about how hard it must be for Lew Koehl," she pointed out. "Trying to fill Tom's shoes? And can you imagine how awful it would have been for Lew if he lost this exercise-if Tom's new team had beaten him? Nightmare."

Jenk rolled his eyes. "And way to trigger discord among the men. Team Sixteen doesn't need that-it's been a hard enough year."

"So Tom sets it up so that everyone loses in glorious unison. SEAL Team Sixteen and TS Inc are in the exact same boat-no one's officially better than anyone else."

"Except for you," Jenk pointed out, as the bartender set a fresh glass of wine in front of her.

"That," Lindsey said, "is a given. I won our bet, by the way."

"No, you didn't," he said. "TS Inc didn't win."

She could handle eye contact when self-righteousness was involved. "No, but the bet wasn't about whether we won, it was about whether Team Sixteen lost."

"Oh, shit," he said, as realization dawned. But then he added, "But we're going to be doing more training together."

"Yeah, I heard Tom say that. Maybe in January." Lindsey rested her chin in her hand, elbow on the bar. "What are you suggesting? Double or nothing? If I win again, you quit the Navy and become our new receptionist?"

Jenk laughed. "Yeah, I don't think so."

"Still, if I have to wait until January for the next exercise..."

"What do I get?" he asked. "If I win?"

And okay. The eye contact was no longer self-righteous. It was definitely getting warm in there.

"Tracy gets to stay forever," Lindsey said, before she realized that using the T-word was probably a mood-killer. And indeed. The sizzle, whether real or imagined, was instantly DOA. But as long as she'd brought up the topic..."Although there's a good chance she won't want to." She braced herself for his disappointment. "Her ex is in town tonight. He came in early."

"Yeah, I heard." Jenk laughed his disbelief. "So you knew about this, too, huh? What, was I the last to know?"

"I spent the past week with her," Lindsey pointed out.

"You could have told me before the exercise," he countered.

"Yeah," she said. "I could've. But I didn't. Shoot me. Talking to you about Tracy is not on my list of fun things to do."

Well, that shut him up.

Desperate to change the subject, Lindsey caught the bartender's eye in the mirror. "Aren't you supposed to see if I have enough money in my wallet before you give me more wine?" She turned back to Jenk. "I've also been here for a while. If I'm going to drive home..."

"I'll drive you home," he said.

And there it was again. That glint of something extra in Jenk's eyes. This time it definitely wasn't a reflection of the setting sun.

It probably meant that Lindsey was Jenk's Plan B. She tried to get indignant or even upset about that, but she just couldn't.

"Thank you," she said instead. "I might take you up on that." Like she would actually turn him down.

"The wine's from the commander," the bartender told her on his way past, with a toss of his head toward the SEAL CO, who was at the end of the bar.

Well, goodness gracious. "Lew Koehl bought me a drink," Lindsey mused.

"He's buying a round for everyone."

"Thanks a million for completely killing that little fantasy. You know, he might be old-school and old-fashioned, but he's so...what's the word I'm looking for here...? Hmm...Oh, I know. Totally bangable."

Jenk knew he was in trouble. Lindsey could see his confusion as he tried to make sense of what she was saying. As she watched, he recognized first that bangable was an Izzy-word. He tried to access memories of a conversation with both Lindsey and Izzy-and failed.

Lindsey took a sip of her wine. Ooh, lovely. It was far more expensive than her first few glasses. "You know, Marky-Mark, on the Lindsey Fontaine Wham-Bang Scoreboard, Lew Koehl rates a solid eleven."

"Oh, fuck," Jenkins said, then quickly apologized. "God, I'm sorry."

"For your language?" she asked. "Or for your hideous taste in friends?"

"Both?" he asked. The expression on his face quickly morphed into wonder. "You were actually out there, close enough to overhear us?"

"Baby-cakes, I was close enough to brush the dust from your clothes," Lindsey told him as she did just that. It was one thing to admire his muscles from afar, another entirely to touch him. His skin was warm, his arm solid. And yes, there were worse things in life than being the Plan B for someone like Mark Jenkins.

There'd be no rude surprises. Just a week, maybe two, of laughter and sex as he rebounded from his disappointment with Tracy. After a while, he'd lose interest. And he'd either just drift away or...No, Jenk wouldn't drift. He'd sit down with her. He'd hold her hand and gently explain that the timing just wasn't right, that he had to focus on his career or his car or his microbrewery or his new girlfriend, although he probably wouldn't mention that last one.

But it would be okay because she knew it was coming. Even now, before it started.

"That's...really amazing," he said.