“Yup. Lates, Mia.”

Danny hopped out and slung the strap of his backpack over one shoulder, then dashed across the manicured lawn toward the front steps of the brick building. As she watched him disappear through the doors, a wave of sorrow washed over her. He was such a good kid. Smart, sweet, talented.

Their mother was a damn fool for abandoning him.

Swallowing her resentment, Mia put the truck in drive again and sped away from the school. She had exactly twenty minutes to get to the new jobsite, but fortunately, traffic was surprisingly light as she headed across the bridge into Coronado.

The idyllic island was so small that it took no time at all to reach her destination. She was even five minutes early as she killed the engine in front of a pretty white house with an unkempt front lawn and a four-door sedan parked in the driveway.

All her gear was in the back, but she left it in the truck and headed for the front door instead of unloading. No point in lugging any equipment until she knew for sure what the clients wanted from her.

She was just raising her hand to ring the bell when the door swung open to reveal a pretty brunette clad in black leggings and a bright pink T-shirt.

“Hi!” the woman said, sounding breathless. “Are you Mia?”

She nodded and stuck out her hand. “Sure am. And you must be Miranda?”

“Yep.”

As they shook hands, two children appeared at Miranda’s feet and peeked up at Mia.

She couldn’t help but smile when she saw them. The kids were utterly adorable, carbon copies of their mother with dark hair and big brown eyes.

“Are you gonna make our garden pretty?” the little girl exclaimed.

“I’m going to try,” Mia answered cheerfully.

“Can you put a baseball diamond in the backyard?” the boy chimed in, equally thrilled.

She fought a laugh. “I don’t think so, kiddo. Not unless your yard is the size of Yankee Stadium.”

The boy heaved out a big sigh. “It’s not.”

“Then I’m afraid we’re outta luck.”

The children’s mother seemed to be fighting a laugh of her own. “Let me just take these guys to the car. I’ll be right back.”

The trio headed for the sedan, and after Miranda got the kids settled inside of it, she hurried back to the front stoop. There was a funny look on her face as she studied Mia.

For so long that Mia started to feel uncomfortable.

“You’re a lot prettier than I expected,” Miranda remarked.

Um.

Okay.

She tried to mask her confusion, but failed. “Thanks? So are you?”

The brunette laughed heartily. “Sorry, I just realized how creepy that sounded. But you really are pretty. You’ve got great eyes.”

O. Kay.

Mia snuck a peek at Miranda’s left hand and instantly spotted the wedding ring, which made the entire conversation even more baffling. She didn’t get the sense that Miranda was hitting on her, but women didn’t normally tell other women that they were pretty and had “great eyes”.

Did they?

Jeez, maybe she really was out of touch with the world.

“Anyway, let’s go around back quick-fast so I can show you what I’d like to do in the yard,” Miranda said, seemingly oblivious to Mia’s train of thought. “Oh, and my husband should be home around noon, so don’t be startled if a big, scruffy guy shows up. And you might also see—”

When Miranda stopped abruptly, Mia raised her eyebrows. “I might also see…?”

After a beat, the brunette shrugged, a strange expression in her eyes. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

All right, there was something weird about this entire situation. Mia had no clue what it was, but she couldn’t fight the feeling that she was being…being what? Duped? Hit on? Lured into a sexual encounter with a hot brunette while her husband watched?

Stop being paranoid. They hired you to garden for them.

The reminder was only about ninety percent reassuring.

The other ten percent maintained that a lesbian seduction in front of Miranda’s “big, scruffy” husband wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Clearly this was going to be an interesting day.

After a long morning of underwater demolition training that had commenced at four a.m., Jackson was dying to leave the base. He’d changed out of his scuba gear and into his street clothes in record time, and was just about to march out of the locker room when his commanding officer stepped inside.

Lieutenant Commander Thomas Becker was as intimidating now as he’d been when Jackson first laid eyes on him three years ago. Built like an action star, the man had close-cropped brown hair and a pair of intense eyes that never failed to make a guy feel like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then again, when it came to Jackson and his teammates, Beck was probably right to remain eternally suspicious. He’d had to bail them out of more than one jam since they’d been assigned to his team.

“Hold up,” Becker barked, jabbing a finger at Jackson.

Jackson experienced a flicker of unease, until he realized Beck wasn’t singling him out—Seth, Dylan and Cash were also on the visual radar, and the four men exchanged a wary look as their CO crossed his arms over his bulky chest and scowled at each of them.

“I just wanted to give you the heads-up that we’ve got Team Eight coming in next week,” Becker announced.

“What for?” Dylan asked.