“Indulge me for a minute, Griffin. Let’s play a what-if game. What if I do make it through the physical conditioning phase for real? Then what? Do you think the instructors will give me a fair shot at the swimming and land phases of training?”

He looked her square in the eye. “It’ll depend on who they bring in to instruct you. Most of the instructors are older guys. They’ve been on the teams a while and have aged out or been injured out of the field. They’re not going to be fans of a female SEAL.”

“What if I can do the job as well as the guys? Then would they accept me?”

Griffin’s eyebrows drew together. “I honestly don’t know.”

“What about you? If you were my instructor, and I could actually pull my weight on a team, would you let me work with you and your guys?”

“It’s not as if I have a choice in the matter. This shit’s rolling downhill from the Secretary of Defense herself.”

“We’re playing what-if. What if I make it all the way through BUD/S because I deserve to be there fair and square. Would you work with me then?”

“I suppose so.”

He didn’t sound the least bit pleased about his answer, but warmth pulsed through her all the same. He’d said yes. He would work with her if she made it through training. It was a hell of a goal to shoot for.

“Maybe you’re not as giant a jerk as I thought you were, Caldwell.”

He aimed a disgusted look at her but didn’t deign to answer. She would take that as a score for the female half of the human race.

Griffin started rolling his head around and rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Turn around,” she ordered.

“I beg your pardon?”

She climbed to her knees. “Turn around. I can fix your neck.”

“Huh. Break it, more like.”

She grinned. “Don’t tempt me. But seriously, I can help.”

He turned around, sitting cross-legged in front of her. She put her hands on the slabs of his deltoid muscles, and they tensed, hard as rocks. Lord, the heat of that man. It rolled off him in waves, just like the potent sex appeal that poured off him every time he looked at her.