If one more smug jerk asked where my pink heels or Dreamhouse were, I was going to start throwing punches. I cut a glare in the direction of the next catcall, already knowing it was for me, since I was the only woman here, and felt a sliver of satisfaction when the sound immediately stopped.
I hadn’t survived years of creeps thinking they could touch me because I was a female in a predominantly male profession, just to be objectified now—here. I hadn’t fought my way to this position, only to be viewed as less than. I hadn’t endured a Marine drill instructor father and four older brothers, who’d ceaselessly brawled with each other and me, just to have more than a dozen men mock me now.
Granted, my brothers had all laughed when I’d first told them I’d enlisted in the Navy. The laughs when I’d told them I’d been accepted into BUD/S—the Navy’s extremely challenging training program for prospective SEALS—had been just as loud and equally filled with pity. Even my dad had told me to gracefully leave before the school began because I wouldn’t make it through. No question.
I was sure the memory of his words and their laughter had kept me going until I became the first female SEAL.
But the laughs were still following me. Only this time, it was from men I was expected to trust with my life as we served on elite teams. Then again, if my brothers had been here, they would’ve been leading the taunts.
Overprotective big brothers they were not.
But they’d prepared me for this.
Taking the corner the lieutenant had pointed out earlier, I drew in a steeling breath when I saw my new team—a cluster of men teasing each other as they relaxed or worked out—and continued forward.
But then six pairs of eyes snapped my way, as if they all sensed someone was approaching, and their voices abruptly died.
I gritted my teeth at the feel of their stunned, confused, and appreciative looks as I closed the distance, but kept my expression neutral as I waited for their reactions.
And then it happened.
“Where’s the beach, Barbie?”
“Think you’re lost, Blondie.”
My stare briefly flashed toward the taunts to see two guys standing from their chairs, both wearing smirks I knew well. Underestimating. Lascivious.
I’d fix that.
I knew razzing and nicknames were all part of military life. Really, I did. But in the time I’d been in, I’d come to learn the same didn’t apply to me.Thiswas dismissive and belittling, and usually preceded being cornered for something I refused to give them.
“You’reMonroe?” a third asked when I dropped my bag and stopped just outside their group, his voice low and rough and filled with irritation that bordered on animosity. I glanced at hisname—Briggs—and stood a little straighter when I realized the man glaring at me with so much contempt was my new team leader.
“Yes, sir.”
He held my stare a few seconds longer before giving a subtle nod and going back to the papers in front of him.
No introductions. No explaining what I needed to do now that I was finally there. No telling me where to put my things. No anything.
“Wait,” theBlondiecommenter began, the word a hushed laugh as it left him. “This . . . this isn’t . . . she isn’t—she’s a girl.”
“Observant,” I muttered dryly.
“No offense,” he continued as he lifted a hand, sounding like I should absolutely take offense. “But—” He worked his jaw before leaning closer to Briggs and lowering his voice, though I could still hear him clearly. “How did she get here? Girls aren’t SEALs for a reason. We can’t be expected to be okay with this. She’s a liability.”
“A gorgeous liability,” one of the remaining guys mumbled under his breath, still loud enough for me to hear.
My stare slanted his way and narrowed when I found him boldly smiling at me, never once stopping from where he was lifting weights. He winked in return, but the awkward action looked more like a nervous tic.
I drew in a slow, calming breath, but held back every one of my thoughts.
After all, this wasn’t anything new. At least Tic looked harmless. You know...outside of the fact that he was one of the most lethal people on the planet.
“Gorgeous or not, there’s no way she made it through BUD/S,” the guy who’d called me Barbie added, sounding insulted that a woman could be at the same level as them.
And, in some ways, I knew I wasn’t. I knew they were stronger and faster because they were men. I’d accepted thatlongago during daily fights and races against my brothers. I’d seen it every day of BUD/S. But I’d never been anywhere near last, and I’d never once come close to giving up or failing out.
“Unless she killed the SEAL wearing the fatigues that fit her,” Briggs ground out, his attention drifting between Blondie and Barbie, “I’d say she earned her place here.”
