One night. Two SEAL brothers. Endless sexy possibilities!
All Out by Tawny Weber
Navy SEAL Zane Bennett can’t walk away from a challenge. He’s determined to win a bet with his brother—until he collides with the luscious Vivian Harris. Their attraction is immediate and searingly hot, but Zane can’t bring himself to bow out of the bet. Now the game is really on...and Zane is embroiled in a wicked matchup he can’t resist!
All In by Beth Andrews
Of the Bad Boy Bennett twins, Navy SEAL Xander is always the gentleman. That is, until he’s challenged to go against his brother for a date with Quinn Oswald—the girl Xander’s wanted since high school! It takes only one kiss for Quinn and Xander’s deliciously sexy chemistry to explode. But how much is Xander willing to gamble...before he goes all in?
Praise for Tawny Weber
“Tawny Weber has a gift when it comes to writing about hot SEALs and the woman they fall for.”
—Lush Book Reviews
“Fiery hot sex scenes, strong characters and exciting action make this one of the best stories in the Uniformly Hot! miniseries—and one of the best Blaze reads.”
—RT Book Reviews on A SEAL’s Seduction
“Tawny Weber’s characters generate enough heat to melt the polar ice cap! I double dare you to pick up this book.”
—New York Times bestselling author Vicki Lewis Thompson on Double Dare
Praise for Beth Andrews
“Ms. Andrews can take any storyline and make it unforgettable. Her characters are so strong and powerful and unique.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Beth Andrews goes on my list of auto-buy series romance authors. I liked the story, I liked the characters and hours after I had closed the book, they were still on my mind. That’s a good read in my opinion.”
—All About Romance on A Not-So-Perfect Past
“Readers can always count on Beth Andrews to spin an emphatic tale with a loving HEA.”
—CataRomance
About the Authors
TAWNY WEBER is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than forty books. She writes sassy, emotional romances with a dash of humor and believes that it all comes down to heroes. In fact, she’s made her career writing about heroes, most notably her popular Navy SEALs series. Visit her on the web at tawnyweber.com. You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Goodreads.
When not writing, Romance Writers of America RITA® Award–winner BETH ANDREWS can often be found cheering on the Pittsburgh Penguins hockey team, scrolling through Instagram or reading a good book with a happy ending. Learn more about Beth and her books by visiting her website, bethandrews.net. She loves to hear from readers! You will also find her on Facebook and Twitter.
One Night with a SEAL
All Out
Tawny Weber
All In
Beth Andrews
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Table of Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
About the Authors
Title Page
All Out
Dear Reader
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
All In
Dear Reader
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Extract
Copyright
All Out
Tawny Weber
Dear Reader,
I’m excited about All Out for a few reasons. First, Vivian and Zane were so fun to write. Sexy and challenging, they’re both all about pushing themselves to get the most out of life. As a SEAL, Zane is one of the best—a fact that Vivian is thrilled to enjoy.
Another reason I’m excited about All Out is that this two-in-one was written with an author I admire so much, my best friend Beth Andrews. We had a great time going back and forth in the creation of these sexy twin Bennett brothers and their hot love stories.
As I finish writing my thirtieth story for Blaze, I can’t believe it’s been ten years since my very first book, Double Dare, was published by Harlequin! I’ve loved sharing my stories with all of you awesome Blaze readers and hope you’ve loved reading them just as much. Blaze is filled with fabulous stories, amazing authors and a great team at Harlequin, and while I’m so sad to say goodbye, I am excited to share All Out with you.
As I say goodbye, though, I’m thrilled to be saying hello to HQN Books. My SEAL Brotherhood trilogy consists of Call to Honor, Call to Engage and Call to Redemption. These stories have the same hot, sexy feel as my Blazes, but are bigger and filled with more emotional depth and intensity. I hope you’ll check them out. I hope, too, that you’ll subscribe to my newsletter at tawnyweber.com/register to hear about more new releases, great story news and to stay in touch.
Happy reading!
Tawny Weber
To everyone at Blaze, those who read the books, write the books and produce the books.
Thank you for the wonderful journey.
1
“HASTA LA VISTA, BABY.”
Sweat dripping into his eyes, Zane Bennett narrowed them enough to glare at the guy shimmying past him on the rope. He couldn’t tell from behind who it was, but it didn’t matter. The other man was breaking away, getting ahead.
Losing was one thing that Zane personally detested but had learned to accept when competing with fellow SEALs. After all, they were the best.
But losing to a sore winner?
Damned if that was okay.
Zane dug deep for more power. Ignoring his screaming muscles, he kicked it up from high gear to the unsustainable but kick-ass superhigh gear. Palms burning, biceps quivering, shoulders rippling, he yanked himself up his rope in three quick pulls. Rather than vaulting the wall at the top, he flipped over it, landing on the other side, double-timing it through the rest of the obstacle course to take the lead. He kept it through the three-mile run back to base, where he crossed the unofficial finish line and dropped into the sand to huff for air.
Even at eight in the morning, he was glad for the cap that shaded his eyes from the Southern California sun as it poured its hot rays over his already sweating body.
“Nice job.” The congratulations were accompanied by a slap to the back that would have felled a lesser man.
“Hey, Lansky,” he greeted without bothering to look back at his senior officer. “How’s it going?”
Lieutenant Jared Lansky was a SEAL and member of Poseidon, a twelve-man team deemed the elite even among the SEAL Brotherhood. A team Zane would have been breaking his ass to join if not for the fact that it was exclusive to men who’d graduated BUD/S together, all of them focused on building their reps since they’d left Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training with their SEAL tridents.
“Dude, why are you doing PT?” Shaking his head as if Zane had dropped a screw or two on the run, Lansky gave Zane his patented WTF look. “I thought you were on leave.”
Leave.
Yeah. Two weeks without training. Two weeks without heart-pounding, muscle-building, ligament-tearing workouts. No competition, no shooting range, no testing his skills.
“My plane doesn’t leave until noon.” His arms resting on bended knees, Zane flicked the sand off his boots. “I figured I’d get in one last sweaty round before heading for Colorado.”
“You don’t sound thrilled. Problems at home?”
“Problems?” Zane laughed. His mother wouldn’t allow problems. “Nah. Home is good. Really good. Two weeks of sleeping as late as I want, not shaving, eating mom’s cooking? Good times, man. Time with my family, hanging out with the twin, chilling with my buds. All good.”
“That’s three goods. In my experience, three goods equals bad.” Jared threw up a hand before Zane could reply. “We’ll get back to that. First, the twin?”
“My brother, Xander.” Actually, thinking about seeing Xander again made the prospect of home a lot more interesting. Seeing any of his family was okay, but everything was always better when Xander was around.
“Identical?”
“Fraternal.” He considered for a second, then shrugged. “But we look enough alike to pass for brothers.”
“Do you have that twin mystique?” At Zane’s questioning look, Jared explained, “You know, you do things alike. Think alike. Finish each other’s sentences. Twin things.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Zane objected. Others said it a lot, but he really didn’t see it himself. He doubted his brother did, either. They were themselves, not two halves of one person.
“What’s your brother do?”
“He’s an engineer. In the Navy.” Zane slid a sidelong look and smiled. “And a SEAL.”
“No shit?” Laughing in delight, Jared gave him a swift slap on the shoulder. “That’s awesome. Twin SEALs. Where’s he stationed?”
“Virginia.”
“The two of you ever serve together?”
“Nope. I enlisted the day after we turned eighteen. He went the Annapolis route after graduating high school. My focus was explosive ordinance, his was engineering.”
“Is he the reason you blew through OTC like there was a tiger on your ass?”
“Nope.” He had gotten his bachelor’s degree and went through officer training in the shortest amount of time possible, but it had nothing to do with keeping up with Xander. “I simply wanted to beat Cole Hanes. I pretty much forgot about the guy after we went our separate ways when I kicked his butt in BUD/s. Word got back to me that he was talking smack about me. That once he made officer, he’d prove once and for all who was the better SEAL.”
“So rather than accepting that nothing could take away from graduating top of your BUD/s class, you busted ass, tripled your workload to get your degree then plowed through OTC in record time all because some idiot was trying to make himself look good?” Lansky slanted him that WTF expression again. “Why?”
“He challenged me.” Zane shrugged. “A challenge is just a fancy-ass dare, isn’t it? And only a wimp walks away from a dare.”
“True that,” Lansky agreed, his boyish looks contemplative as he stared out at the ocean. They sat in silence for a few seconds, then he sighed.
“We’re hard-wired to compete. To push, to be strong, to be the best. That’s why we are the best.” He waited for Zane’s grin before continuing, “But sooner or later, you realize that the only person you have to prove anything to is yourself. Once you’re comfortable with that, you can pick and choose the dares you care about. Makes life easier.”
Zane nodded. He got that, he really did. But...
“‘The only easy day was yesterday,’” he quoted the oft-used SEAL phrase.
“There you go.” Lansky gave a rueful laugh. “I suppose that’s why going home is so good that you say it three times? Because you’re worried you’ll lose your edge?”
“Please, my edge is permanent,” Zane said dismissively. “It was carefully and strategically honed in the deceptively picturesque town of Little Creek, Colorado. A place where everybody knows everybody else and minding the neighbors’ business is a way of life.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Sounds boring as hell,” Zane acknowledged. “Which is why we started issuing challenges. Dares, if you will. For the craziest crap. Who could jump farthest off the high school gym roof? Who could eat the most little green apples before competing in the track meet? Who looked best in a dress and heels?”
“Beg pardon?” Lansky interrupted, with a raised eyebrow.
“Halloween, junior year of high school,” Zane explained before continuing his recital of various dares and challenges. “And every trip home, it continues.”
“Is that the cause for all those goods? You want to avoid the dares-slash-challenges?” Lansky gave him a pitying head shake. “Way to represent the team, Bennett.”
“Once you’ve rappelled out of a helicopter into the Atlantic during a storm while a gang of Somali pirates are shooting at you, being challenged to chug-a-lug a dozen Big Gulp slushies just isn’t the same.”
Although the brain-freeze threat was a hazard that couldn’t be dismissed.
“So don’t play.”
“Yeah, right.” Zane laughed. “Like you said, we’re hardwired to compete. I can’t walk away from a challenge. Ever.”
“You might want to work on that.”
“Might.”
But probably not on this trip. This trip would come with plenty of challenges. He was heading back for a high school reunion and the gang would be all there. But after ten years, most of the guys he’d gone to school with were settled down. Living the nine-to-five life with wives and, in some cases, kids even.
Talk about challenges. How the hell did they do that? It was the complete opposite of his motto: No Ties, No Lies.
“You ever worry that we live so far over the edge that we aren’t suited to, you know, regular life?”
“You said it yourself. We’re not meant for regular life, Bennett. But like picking and choosing our challenges, we have to learn to decompress from time to time or we’ll burn out.” Lansky’s voice tightened, his eyes locked on the churning waves as if searching for some answer only the ocean could offer. “You know as well as I do that the body needs time between workouts for the muscle fibers to mend. If you want to stay sharp and last the duration, you take advantage of those valleys between each peak.”
“Peaks and valleys, huh?”
“Yep.” With that and another slap to the back, Lansky got to his feet. “You can always try my tried-and-true method of resting.”
“Chasing women?”
“Works every time,” Lansky shot back with a laugh before sauntering across the sand to join the other men.
Zane stayed where he was. After all, he wasn’t on duty. He was heading for that valley called home.
He’d just have to find something interesting to keep his senses alert, his skills challenged and his body honed.
Maybe Lansky had it right.
Maybe he’d have to find himself a woman.
2
“WOW. NOW, THAT’S a penis.”
Humming as she gave said penis a careful inspection, Vivian Harris finally straightened and offered a satisfied smile.
“It does look good, doesn’t it?” Noting it was a smidge uneven, she sprinkled a hint more glitter on the right side to bring out the curve. “I think it might be my best work yet.”
“Absolutely, amazingly edible,” Minna Karter said, her brown eyes as round as her glasses. When she wet her lips, looking as if she wanted to kneel down and give it a good lick, Vivian quickly grabbed a hot pink lid and fitted it in place.
“Your favorite triple-chocolate fudge cake layered with Bavarian cream and covered in modeling chocolate.” Vivian put a snappy black bow on the box, adding the darling bakery sticker she’d printed on her inkjet claiming the confection was made with love at The Sweet Spot. “Guaranteed to keep your bridal shower guests happy.”
“They’re going to love it, Viv. I am blown away at how great this looks. I’ll bet nobody’s ever seen one this gorgeous.”
“A cake, or a penis?”
“Tough choice,” Minna said, laughing, “but I meant the cake. You’re really rocking this new sideline of yours. I mean, I’d have ordered a cake from Little Creek Bakery no matter what, since it’s your family’s. But...”
“But they only make regular, boring, round—or if they’re really wild, square—cakes here,” Vivian agreed with a nod. “I’ve been asking them for years to branch out, to widen the offerings, but noooo.”
She rolled her eyes at her family’s narrow-minded refusal.
“Which would be why I’m picking this up after-hours when nobody else is around?”
“It wouldn’t have been a big deal.” At Minna’s pointed stare, Vivian admitted, “My parents are out of town for the week so I’m in charge of the bakery. I was able to bake and decorate it here instead of at home.”
“You’d think they’d be a little more open to expanding their offerings.”
“Not everyone likes the idea of their only daughter molding phallic symbols out of cake.”
“You do more than that,” Minna objected. “You made that pair of songbirds for Lana’s birthday, you did the mermaid for Josie’s daughter, and you even did that Harley for your brother’s birthday. Never mind all the other cakes and confections you’re selling off your website.”
Minna shook a chastising finger before Vivian could shrug that off—and since by her calculations, she wasn’t yet earning half what she’d need to support herself, it really was shrugworthy.
“You’re living the dream, remember,” Minna reminded her in fervent tones.
Vivian had discovered a series of books called Living the Dream! written by Lola Bean. They focused on arranging wishes, hopes and goals into definable dreams and had inspired her like crazy. She’d read all of the books, then worked through the quizzes, study guides and questionnaires, narrowing down random ideas and what ifs into actual life goals built on a dream that touched her heart.
Vivian considered herself an artist. One who honored sexuality and the human form. But she couldn’t draw or paint, and try as she might, she couldn’t write a decent story. So, through Lola’s first course, “Finding the Dream that Makes You Sing,” she’d combined her two talents, sensual art and baking, and created The Sweet Spot.
As Lola so often said, with the power of that much emotion behind her dreams, how could she fail to build her dream life? And she was right. It’d given Vivian focus for the first time in twenty-four years. A sense of empowerment and excitement over building her dream career.
What it hadn’t done was actually give her that career.
Yet.
Vivian wasn’t giving up, though.
After reading through the entire booklist, joining Lola’s newsletter and finding her on social media, Vivian had been thrilled when the woman had opened group coaching. She’d convinced Minna, their friend Lisa and Lisa’s sister, Corinne, to do the coaching with her and, wow, talk about results.
Thanks to Lola’s advice, after six years of dating, Minna was finally marrying the man of her dreams. Lisa had gone back to school to get her degree and Corinne—well, Corinne’s dreams kept changing. She wasn’t quite the dream success story, which was fine with Vivian since it made her own mediocre success look better.
“Don’t look so bummed,” Minna chided, obviously reading her expression. “You’re great at what you do.”
As if to prove it, Minna whipped off the lid and showed off the penis again, complete with a sweep of one hand.
“It does look good, doesn’t it,” she murmured. “But I’m still not quite living the dream.”
Vivian’s goal was to be the go-to gal for sexy cakes and candies. She specialized in clever, sculpted, suggestive treats of all sorts. It didn’t have to be overt, like the sparkling penis. She loved getting that hint of sex across black lace formed from royal icing or leather from modeling chocolate. She’d created everything from an orgy of cupcakes to a madam’s cake—a four-layer devil’s food cake covered in black “leather” with red lace and sugar whips.
And while she was doing okay, she hadn’t quite found the key to success yet. She was pretty confident of her skills, and was sure her prices were right. And she’d built a great online store. It was just a matter of getting people to check it out and buy.
“Did you hear anything from that program you’d applied to?”
The program was an internship with one of the most respected dessert culinary programs in the country. If accepted, she’d be spending a year studying under Geoffrey of Decadence Desserts. Learning the ins and outs, not only of perfecting her dessert-making skills, but also business and marketing knowledge that’d help her build The Sweet Spot into the name in sensual treats.
The problem was, the internship took place in California. So it not only included moving away from her hometown, but leaving her comfy job working for the family bakery. Sure, she hated the tedious repetition of making the same desserts over and over. And she was so over her family’s disdain for her creative choices of sensual cake decor. But it was home and it was a job and, well, it was safe.
She’d been excited when she’d applied. All hopped up on one of Lola’s inspirational lessons on chasing the dream. But now? California meant giving up her comfort for a low-paying job living in a dorm with a bunch of strangers. Vivian just wasn’t sure it was worth it.
“No word yet,” was all she said, though.
“You’ll get there,” Minna assured her quietly as she covered the cake again. “You know Lola says you’re holding yourself back. You’re not fully committing.”
Vivian had to clench her teeth to keep from arguing. Not because she disagreed. But she’d argued this point so many times that she simply couldn’t stand to hear that she had to give up her safety net again.
“I’ll get there,” was all she finally said.
Looking relieved at the response, Minna said, “I know you will,” then changed the subject.
After assuring her that she’d come up with something fun for shower favors, Vivian waved her friend out of the bakery. As soon as Minna was gone, she grabbed her iPad and opened up her website.
Maybe she needed to do more advertising? Vivian slid through the samples, her smile growing as she looked at each one. Granted, there were more sketches than actual photos. Mostly because she hadn’t scored a lot of orders yet and she couldn’t justify making a slew of baked goods just to take photos. But picture or sketch, they all looked great.
If she did say so herself.
The infamous penis cake, perfectly proportioned—to an eight-foot-tall man, granted—with a glistening flesh-colored modeling-chocolate covering and any variety of fillings.
Bikini cupcakes, each breast covered in sassy polka dots with just a hint of cherry-gel nipples peeking through the lace.
Three-dimensional bodies—both male, female and a few with both—made not from Rice Krispies Treats like some bakers used, but delicious cake through and through.
She should be a huge success.
The only problem was that she worked at her parents’ bakery and they weren’t a fan of her dreams. Which wouldn’t be a big deal except this was their store, as they’d snippily pointed out just last week. And apparently paying for the ingredients she used didn’t make up for using their space with her crazy ideas and wicked creations.
Vivian sniffed her disdain, but since she hadn’t found any way around that particular issue yet, she had to admit it did play into Lola questioning the seriousness of her commitment. According to her, Vivian should walk away from the family business and focus on her own. Dreams required risk, chapter twelve. Safety nets only slowed progress.
“Shouldn’t you be working?”
Breath knotted in her chest, Vivian spun around, almost falling on her butt thanks to her four-inch heels and slim pencil skirt.
“Mike,” she said, one hand pressed against her chest to keep her heart from leaping out. “What’re you doing here?”
Having obviously used his key to the back door, her brother stood in the pass-through between the storefront and the kitchen, frowning. Older by three years and their parent’s perfect child, Mike strode behind the counter to look over her shoulder.
“Why are you messing around with that stuff again? More of your dirty cakes and crazy ideas? C’mon, Viv, give it up and focus on the work you’re paid for,” he nagged in that big-brotherly tone that made his disdain for any other work she did clear.
Fingering the fifty in the pocket of her ruffled apron, Vivian debated waving it under his nose. But she knew it was pointless. Like their parents, Mike considered Vivian’s side job to be a silly little hobby, something they hoped she’d give up soon. Preferably before too many people learned of it and made the connection between Little Creek Bakery and its three generations of boring baked goods and The Sweet Spot, with its naughty selection of edible treats.
“Shouldn’t you be dressed like an uptight banker?” she asked, giving his casual jeans and button-down shirt a smirk.
“Shouldn’t you be dressed more, I don’t know, like someone who works in a bakery instead of a forties movie star?”
“You think I’m pretty enough to be a movie star?” Vivian teased, adding a sassy smile to her hair toss because she knew it’d bug him. The only thing more irritating than her brother’s criticism of her side business was his critique of her vintage style.
“I think you’re too much a handful as it is for me to answer a question like that.” As he spoke, Mike went through the bakery case, filling a standard pink cardboard box with a selection of choice cookies, brownies and muffins.
“What are you doing here? I’m pretty sure our parents left me in charge of the bakery while they’re on yet another vacation.” Vivian glanced at the clock to make sure she hadn’t lost time somewhere. “And since I am, shouldn’t you be bossing your tellers around at the bank instead of bugging me?”
“Shouldn’t you be closing out the cash register and prepping for tonight’s baking instead of playing on your computer?”
“Playing?” Vivian made a show of tapping one crimson fingernail on her iPad, opened it to her website and flipped through a few more cake images. “The register is already closed out, so whatever you’re taking there will have to be paid with exact change.”
“Cute,” he said, closing the box. “Here,” he said, waving a piece of paper. “I brought you a special order. Desserts for the class-reunion welcome reception.”
Vivian looked at the order and congratulated herself for holding back a sigh. Booooring, she thought, running one long nail down the list.
Simple vanilla cookies. Plain frosted cupcakes. Six-dozen standard petit fours. Yawn, yawn, yawn. And one three-tier cake in the high school colors, complete with a sugar photo of the school mascot, a roaring panther.
“You know, I could make the entire cake in the image of the panther,” she suggested. “Dress him up just like the mascot, complete with a Pikes Peak High pennant.”
“Stick with the sugar photo.” He started writing up a list of what he’d boxed, then pulled out his wallet. “I’ll pick it all up on Sunday afternoon, save you the delivery.”
“Sunday? You’re only giving me three days warning? I have other orders, Mike. A Saturday wedding, four birthday cakes and a croquembouche for Mrs. Fiore’s daughter’s shower. With the parents gone, I’m the only baker here.”
“You can handle it. Bring in more counter help if you have to,” he said with a shrug, handing her a ten and four ones.
“What? You’re not helping? I have to make this entire boring, cookie-cutter order by myself?” She glanced over it again. There wasn’t a sparkle of edible glitter or even a shiny cherry anywhere to be found.
“Use your imagination,” Mike said, giving her an encouraging look. “Pretend it’s fun.”
Vivian knew there was no doubt they were related. The Harris genes bred too strong, with their flaxen hair—although Vivian’s was a shoulder-length sweep fashioned in the classic forties style. Their huge brown eyes—but Vivian made sure hers looked even larger with heavy black liner that accented her lush lashes. And their tall, broad-shouldered build—Vivian’s being a lot more feminine than her former-football-playing brother and complete with generous curves.
But she’d long ago accepted that they were only similar in looks.
“You’re in charge of the bakery, you figure it out. I’ll be busy celebrating having all my pals home.”
All his pals?
A thrill of delight shot through her.
“The Bennett brothers are coming home?”
“Yep, Xander and Zane should be here—” Mike looked at his watch and grinned “—within the hour.”
“Both of them?” At her brother’s scowl, Vivian made a show of sweeping her long blond bangs away from her face and giving him a wide-eyed look of concern. “Are you sure Little Creek can handle an invasion by the Bad Boy Bennetts?”
“Probably not,” Mike replied with a laugh. “Luckily they’re only here for ten days. Other than breaking a few hearts, I don’t think they can do much damage with so little time.”
“Last time they were only home a week and they got into a huge bar fight after you challenged them to see who could drink the most shots. They broke the table at the diner arm wrestling and, if rumor is correct, they were seen streaking down Main Street at three in the morning as part of some insane decathlon.” Oh, how she’d wept over missing that sight.
“Nah, the streaking was just a rumor. But the rest is true.” Mike’s grin widened. “I’m going to have to do some serious thinking if I’m going to top all of those challenges.”
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