Second Chance with Her SEAL

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Second Chance with Her SEAL Page 4

by Gillian Blakely


  He didn't particularly like rehashing his past. There were obviously areas that were too damned hard to think about much less talk about. But he'd always been proud of his service, the job he'd done for his country and most especially of the lasting friendships he'd made.

  “Referrals. Instagram. Magazine shoots. Why did you join the SEALs?”

  “Sounded like a good idea at the time.”

  In less time than it took him to blink, she was off the car and standing in front of him, vibrating with intensity.

  “Getting shot at sounded like a good idea? You knew how dangerous it was, didn't you? Beforehand?”

  Damn she was gorgeous when she was feisty. That was new too. What would it take to get her really flustered? Or mad as a momma gator? He'd bet his favorite scope that her eyes would sparkle and her whole body would quake with annoyance.

  “I made it home in one piece. That's luckier than most.”

  She cut her gaze to the street corner. The party was filtering down their way.

  Gnawing her lower lip, she closed her eyes. A second passed, then another. A solid ten seconds later, her chest rose as she took a deep breath. He'd have had to be dead or blind not to notice the way her breasts stretched the black material.

  He snatched his gaze away and focused on her face. He liked to look as much as the next guy, but he was happy alone, so it didn't pay to look too long.

  “Of all the regrets in my life, you're the only one that makes me wish I had a time machine, so I could go back.”

  Her words as much as the sheen of tears in her eyes shocked him. His blood ran icy cold as his brain screamed mayday.

  Mayday. Danger. Back away.

  They were heading into unsteady territory. Like, behind enemy lines territory.

  And fuck if there wasn't a single response that he could think of that didn't make him sound like a complete asshole or take the conversation directly into the territory he'd do anything to stay away from.

  She'd broken his heart. He'd grown up, moved on. He was happy. Well, happy enough. Content, all right?

  His phone buzzed again. Biting out a sigh, he plucked the hideous device from his pocket and glanced at the screen just to make sure the world wasn't ending.

  It wasn't.

  Not tonight anyway. He tucked the phone back in his pocket and gave her his attention.

  “You shouldn't regret anything. Your past brought you to where you are right now.”

  The words flowed from his lips as if plucked from the divine.

  Sabrina nodded slightly and then took an obviously shaky breath. “You're right. I just—”

  Damn. How did she peg him with a glance that had the same power as lead weights? It was as if twin aqua lasers had melted his boots to the pavement.

  “Hearing what you said...about the ambush and losing friends. I've thought about you so many times over the years, wondering what you were doing. If you'd left Brunswick, if you'd gotten married and had kids.”

  Somehow her words unlocked memories he'd thought were long locked away. The sound of Samuel’s laughter as he'd run around the yard, dashing through the sprinkler on a scorching summer's day. Just being a kid. His little boy had been so good at that. Living in the moment, finding joy in the smallest things. And that giggle of his.

  David rubbed his chest as if that could soothe an ache that was so deep it went far past the physical.

  Sabrina had no idea how she affected him. No, she continued as if his heart wasn't being ripped into a thousand more pieces. When would he learn? His heart wasn't meant to be whole.

  He could laugh, shoot the shit, hang out with the guys and be the epitome of laid back. Fancy free, Dylan had called it not long after he and Reya hooked up. But it was all a charade.

  Boomer didn't feel whole. Not since that terrible spring day. And truth be told, the first chisel strike to his heart had come fifteen years ago.

  And the woman in front of him had been wielding her sledge hammer with deadly aim.

  “What happened?”

  The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. They tasted like dry sawdust across his tongue, but he needed to know what had happened all those years ago to drive her away from him.

  It was as if she could read his mind, knew exactly what he was asking.

  But hadn’t they always had that kind of connection as kids? Finishing each other’s sentences? Reading each other’s minds?

  Which was why he just couldn’t figure out what had shut her down, turned her off. What had severed their friendship.

  Sabrina licked her lips, staring at the ground. Then she slowly raised her gaze to meet his. The aqua of her eyes had never seemed brighter. Her shoulders pulled back and down and she took another deep breath that once again lifted her breasts.

  “I've thought about this so many times...what I'd say if I ever met you again.” She glanced around at the dozens of parked cars and party goers. “I'm not sure this is the setting I had in mind.”

  She gave him a slight smile.

  Aww, fuck. He couldn't retract his question, without letting her know just how much she'd affected him. And knowing her now, seeing how she’d bitten her lower lip as she concentrated on tending his wound, the gentle wrinkle between her brows, the graceful column of her neck... It was like seeing her for the first time, and yet, somehow, she was achingly familiar.

  It struck him right in the chest.

  He'd missed her too. All the moments from their childhood. He'd thought they'd go on forever. Even as they'd drifted apart in high school, he'd never expected to drift completely.

  And then when she'd walked away from their date and never looked back, when she'd severed all the ties, he'd ached. Not just because he'd been a rebuffed teenage boy, not just because he hadn't gotten his way, but because he'd lost his very best friend.

  Thinking about it now, thinking of the loss, the miles and years between them, he swallowed past a lump in his throat. So damn long. So many years. So much history.

  For both of them surely.

  God knew he had plenty of baggage.

  Which was why he should thank her for her bandaging his wounds and say, “it was nice seeing you.”

  But when her incredible aqua gaze locked with his, those weren't the words that left his lips.

  5

  Boomer opened his mouth to tell her good-bye. See you later. So long. Nice seeing you again.

  That’s not what came out.

  “I know a quiet place not too far from here.” Inwardly, he groaned.

  Sabrina's gaze dropped to his lips and seemed to weigh his words.

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt anticipation. But there was a hint of something more. Uneasiness. It took him back to missions when all he'd been able to rely on was his gut and his team.

  As she tipped her chin up, he realized he was holding his breath.

  For a woman.

  The woman who'd broken his heart in high school and sent him on the course of his life.

  Holy shit.

  The revelations just kept coming.

  He took a step back, his muscles tensing to bolt. But the smile she sent his way stopped him in his tracks. The curve of her perfect pink lips could have been a target; his focus was locked on.

  “That sounds great.” She stepped around him, tucked the first-aid kit back in the glove compartment and then stood. After a quick glance at his bandaged hand, she met his gaze.” Should I follow you?”

  A battle waged inside him. He wanted to rescind the offer and at the same time, he was terrified she'd change her mind.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  He nodded. What was the worst that could happen? They'd talk. Maybe he'd find out if her lips tasted as good as they looked.

  No. Not that. That's not what this is about.

  It's about discovery. History.

  Right. Discovering if history will repeat itself or if you'll get that good night kiss you've been waiti
ng for for fifteen years.

  Son-of-a—

  “You okay?”

  He shook his head to clear it. “I will be.”

  “I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

  Everything about tonight was uncomfortable. Seeing her again, being covered in body paint, the tightness in his chest when she smiled up at him.

  “I'll be alright. My truck is around the corner. Bright red. You can't miss it.”

  Even in a town as safe and quaint as Roseville, he waited until she was locked in her car before he jogged the hundred yards or so to his truck. By the time he was behind the wheel, she'd pulled out onto the road and stopped a few lengths back. He fired up the diesel engine and headed for home.

  One minute into his drive he'd come up with at least three reasons this was his worst idea ever.

  Mainly that he was half naked already and she was drop dead gorgeous. Easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

  Second to that was she'd piqued his curiosity and that was dangerous. When he was interested in something he tended to fixate and study. He shouldn't be thinking about studying Sabrina Duncan. A friendly cup of coffee was all this could be.

  And he couldn't seem to stop thinking about that kiss that had never happened all those years ago. Somewhere deep down, he'd been harboring extra resentment for being denied his good night kiss. And that was dangerous.

  By minute three, he'd given himself a firm talking to. Coffee. Talk. He'd get some nagging questions answered and he could go back to work on Monday satisfied and prepared to work.

  As if thinking about work conjured it, his phone buzzed against his thigh.

  “Still ignoring you, Toby.” Jackass.

  He kept an eye on Sabrina's little red car in the rear-view mirror. She kept a safe distance, didn't ride his bumper. There weren't too many cars on the road at this time of night.

  What the hell was he thinking, taking her back to his rig? “Of all the stupid ideas—”

  The sign for the campground came into view, dripping with orange Halloween lights. He flipped on his signal and then turned into the oversized driveway. After making the first left, he drove around the small lake that sat in the middle of the park. It was one of the nicer places he'd stayed, and the waterfront view was worth the extra rent each month.

  He pulled to a stop behind his fifth wheel, careful to leave enough space for Sabrina to park. Before he got out, he took one last opportunity to give his dick a talking to.

  Talking only tonight.

  Which meant that tomorrow night was up for negotiation.

  He sighed to himself, frustrated that he'd been perfectly content and capable the last few years. Sex wasn't a problem for him. Having it or not having it. And in general, he didn't have a whole lot of urges.

  But since the moment he'd locked eyes on one very sexy woman in a kitty cat costume, his libido had been on full-fucking-alert.

  When he jumped down from the cab, he found her standing next to her car, looking at the lighted fountain in the center of the lake.

  “It's beautiful,” she said, then glanced over at him. She stared at him for a long moment and then her gaze drifted beyond him, taking in the camper. “This home?”

  “Yeah. Cheaper than renting a hotel room.”

  Her spine straightened a fraction and a wave of energy seemed to flow through her. “I want to hear everything.”

  He felt the same way and yet, hearing the words on her lips made him purse his own. There was so much history between them, but the last fifteen years were like a giant chasm, him on one side, her waving from the other.

  Coffee.

  It was just coffee.

  He started for the door, pulling out his keys. “Come on in.”

  The click of the lock was familiar and soothing. He pulled open the door and climbed the last two steps. After flicking on the lights in the living area, he turned back to see if she needed any help. The metal stairs on RVs weren't the sturdiest of inventions, but she was already on the linoleum in the entryway. Her big blue eyes darted around like a ping-pong ball, taking everything in.

  He scratched at the body paint and moved into the kitchen to turn on a few more lights. Maybe if the place was bright enough he would stop thinking about kissing her.

  “You're so tidy.”

  He glanced around, seeing what she saw. Standard neutral interior that looked like it'd just come off the RV lot. No family photos, no frills, no extras. Tidy was another word for boring. Hell, it was almost like he was a ghost.

  Even his dishware was basic, plain and simple white. And Sabrina was just the opposite. Even dressed in all black, she seemed to be glowing all the colors of the rainbow. Vibrant as hell with a smile that made his heart squeeze.

  He stayed rooted next to the refrigerator, a full-fledged battle waging inside him.

  * * *

  Sabrina was acutely aware of David’s eyes following her every movement. His gaze seemed to track each breath she took.

  Once again, his hand lifted to scratch at the paint on his chest. He seemed so uncomfortable and that was the last thing she wanted.

  A voice told her to go. To leave well enough alone. But a louder voice screamed for her to stay.

  They'd been such good friends once. Surely, they could have an adult conversation and catch up.

  Except... the soft glow in the interior of the RV was like the ultimate mood lighting. And his eyes were so dark and deep she felt herself getting sucked in, pulled closer. The desire exploding through her veins had nothing to do with catching up and everything to do with throwing down.

  She blew out a covert sigh and turned to study the couch. Anything to keep her eyes off him. The pucker in the leather cushion gave a clue as to which spot he preferred. It was easy to imagine him here, kicking back, watching TV, maybe drinking a beer after a long day.

  “Why don't you go wash that stuff off?” she asked, raising a brow at him.

  His fingers stopped rubbing the paint and he straightened.

  Did that sound like a come on?

  “Do you have any coffee?” she amended.

  “It's in the pantry,” he said with a quick nod toward the tall, paneled door. His shoulders rippled, and he eyed the hallway leading to what she presumed was a bedroom and bathroom. He seemed to lean in that direction.

  “Why—” She paused. Fifteen years of curiosity and she was wasting her questions on a costume.

  “Why am I dressed like a green giant?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

  “Well, you don't seem very comfortable.” In fact, he seemed ready to get out of the body paint. She could remember every costume he'd worn from five to fifteen. Skin tight had never been his thing. He'd made a really cute cowboy when they'd been six, though.

  “Seemed like a good idea at the time. And Celita had a new body paint she wanted to try out.”

  Sabrina liked the makeup artist but the idea of her being so close to David, painting that gorgeous chest...her temperature spiked. It was her turn to be painfully uncomfortable. And torn between bolting for the door and climbing him like a telephone pole.

  She'd bet her favorite Louboutins that he was strong as an ox and perfectly capable of holding her against the wall for a long session of sweaty sex.

  Uneasy at the runaway lust storming through her, she stepped past him and yanked open the pantry door. “I'll get started on the coffee.”

  The words came out in a jumble and she practically stuck her head into the cabinet. She had to stop looking at him long enough to get her hormones under control.

  It'd been so long since she'd been with a man. Well over two years, in fact, since she'd even held hands or felt a man's skin against hers.

  Call her a wanton, but she desperately missed that intimacy. She missed feeling desirable, she longed to be cuddled. There was just something about being held tight against a man's chest, to feel his gaze on her lips, knowing that right then, they were completely absorbed into each other. She yea
rned to lose herself.

  But more than sex, she wanted connection. She'd experienced it once and before everything had gone so wrong, her world had been so right.

  She tipped her head against the cabinet door and sighed. Through the thin walls, she heard the shower turn on. Once again, she glanced around the cozy, neat-as-a-pin interior and wondered at her friend.

  David Jameson. In the flesh.

  Don't go there.

  She certainly didn't need to be thinking about his flesh.

  Focus.

  Coffee.

  Glancing in the pantry again, she saw the container plain as day. Sighing at herself, she plucked the red jar up and turned to the coffee maker. Luckily, she never had to worry about caffeine, no matter what hour.

  Would David get the jitters?

  Sabrina pried open the lid and inhaled the sweet, roasty aroma. A tingle ran up her spine and a smile lifted her cheeks.

  This would work. They could have the talk they'd needed to have for more years than she wanted to count. She needed to come clean about a few things. To tell him how conflicted she'd been in high school.

  Mostly she wanted to hear what he'd been up to. Had he ever gone bungee jumping, did he still love haunted houses and scary movies?

  She steepled her hands and pressed them against her lips, scarcely able to believe the turn of events. Was it just an hour ago that the tail on her costume had dropped into the toilet at Jill’s coffee shop? It seemed like so much longer.

  Taking a deep breath, she let her hands drop. A black smudge along the sides of her pointer fingers caught her attention.

  The makeup.

  Sabrina swiped the tip of her nose with the flat of her hand. The black eyeliner she used smeared across her skin.

  “Oh great.”

  She turned to the sink and grabbed a paper towel. Using the camera on her phone as a mirror, she wiped off as much of the kitten whiskers as she could. But the black grease didn’t want to budge. Feeling more frantic by the second, she wet a fresh paper towel, added a squirt of dish detergent and breathed a sigh of relief as the makeup disappeared.

  After checking herself one more time, she wasn’t going to win a modeling competition but that was okay, she slid her phone back into her pocket and poked around the kitchen until she found the trashcan.

 

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