Trevor grinned. “I’ve never met one who was allowed to try. Maybe if we let them give it a go, they’ll prove themselves to us.”

Griffin swore luridly. They were talking about women. Running on SEAL teams. In desperation, he tossed out, “Think about the missions we do. The conditions we live in. Do you guys seriously want women out there with us?”

Axel spoke slowly. “I wouldn’t mind it if they could pull their weight. And it sure as hell would beat looking at your ugly mug all the time, Grif. That Sherri girl—she looks like a princess. Or a movie star.”

Kenny emerged from his beer to comment, “Cal says Tate was a no-shit beauty queen. Finalist at the Miss America pageant a few years back.”

Somehow, Griffin was not surprised. He’d seen some gorgeous women in his day, but Sherri Tate was a rare beauty.

Jojo spoke up. “Speaking of beauty queens, where’d you disappear to with Sherri, Grif? Is she as hot a lay as she looks like she’d be?”

Griffin jerked upright, his head pounding violently at the sudden movement. “She’s a freaking naval officer. Watch your mouth, Jojo.”

The room fell dead silent.

God damn it. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate his teammates over a woman. He sighed. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what to make of these women. I tried to talk with Tate about why ladies want to be SEALs.”

“And?” Trevor asked expectantly.

“She said she wants to serve her country and do cool stuff.”

Axel responded, “Well, yeah. Isn’t that why we all do this?”

Griffin’s brows twitched together. Of all the guys, Axel was the one he would’ve least expected to be okay with women SEALs. Axe was a good ol’ boy and prone to calling women things like li’l ladies and fillies.

Kenny shrugged. “This is all a waste of time. As soon as we push women to our fitness standards, they’ll fold up and go home.”

Trevor shot him another of those troubled looks that communicated louder than words: Yes, but what if the women made the standards and didn’t go home? Then what? Grif had no blasted idea.

Sam, the newest to the team, commented, “I don’t care if women make it as long as they can do the job. They sure as shootin’ improve the scenery.”

The kid was missing the point. Women might look good—hell, look great. But they would degrade the performance of the teams. Any unit was only as strong as its weakest member.