Connor rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped. His father was sitting at the kitchen table with a woman. A nice-looking woman about ten years his junior. They both rose from their seats. “Connor, this is Dorothy Eads. Dorothy, my son, Connor.”
The fine lines around her eyes did nothing to detract from her looks, only added character to a natural attractiveness. A few strands of gray peeked out at the temples of her light brown, sun-streaked hair. She looked fit and lightly tanned.
She stepped forward and offered her hand. Connor took it automatically.
“It’s nice to meet you. Your dad has told me so much about you.”
Too bad he hadn’t said a word to Connor about her. “Do you live in the neighborhood?”
“No. I live in Bluffton. I run one of the galleries there.”
He flashed his Dad a questioning look.
“Dorothy and I have been seeing each other for a little while.”
His mom had been gone for less than two years. He understood loneliness, but this still gave him a punch to the gut. “How long’s a little while?”
Silence hung between them.
“About a year,” she said. Her gaze shifted from him to his father. “You didn’t tell him, Toby?”
A flicker of discomfort worked its way across his father’s face. “He just got here three days ago.”
And he’d been riding Connor’s back for two of them. Had it been guilt riding his dad’s?
His mom stuck by his dad through transfers and deployments, his less-than-easy retirement transition, then the building of his business. His dad stuck by her through her sickness and death, which somehow seemed to Connor like she’d gotten the short end of the stick.
And he’d been almost as bad. He’d been deployed to the sandbox, and barely made it back in time to see her before she lost her battle with pancreatic cancer.
Between the two of them, who deserved to bear the most guilt?
“What you do is your business, Dad,” he managed through a throat that felt like he’d swallowed broken glass. “I have a date. Is it okay if I take Mom’s car? The truck is drivable, but it’s a little awkward for Sloane to get up in the cab.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Tobias Evans might be an asshole to his son, but he knew what his priorities needed to be. A lady’s comfort always came first.
And Connor had a fifty-minute drive to get his mind straight before he saw Sloane—if he could.
CHAPTER 3
Nerves sent a tremor through her stomach. It had been well over a year since she’d been on a date. Business dinners, sure, but not a single sit-down with a man she was interested in. They were just going to a bar and grill, but she still wanted to look her best.
She went through the closet and chose a white, short-sleeved blouse and black slacks she bought two days before. The silky fabric would help her stay cool, and she’d wear a camisole under it. And take a sweater in case the air conditioning chilled her. Black, stretchy jeans would create a contrast and make her appear slimmer. A size eight wasn’t large, but she was hyperaware of the width of her hips, and the rounded curve of her stomach. Her breasts were what men focused on the moment they met her.
But not Connor. He looked her in the eye. A refreshing change, she hoped.
On her way downstairs, she heard the doorbell and hurried to the door to peek through the security lens. Connor waited on the small covered porch. She opened the door, and the frown knitting his dark brows cleared. He was so damned gorgeous it was hard to not to stare. He smiled as though he read her mind, and she hastened to say, “Come in.”
“How’s Bernie?” he asked.
“She’s bruised, sore, and not feeling too frisky.”
“Not unexpected.”
“She wants to thank you. She’s in the living room.” His frown didn’t come as a surprise. The man was smart enough to realize he’d been set up.
He cocked his head at her. “I didn’t really do anything to be thanked for.”
“The sooner you listen to what she has to say, the sooner we can leave.” She offered him a coaxing smile.
He grinned. “Am I being vetted?”
“I guess you could say that. Bernie’s my legal secretary at work, and my best friend since college. And she convinced she’s my watchdog.” But even she was fallible when it came to Reed. A mistake we both made.
But Connor wasn’t Reed, and she was going to give him a chance because all that wild attraction would go to waste if she didn’t. “Bernie was out of it for most of the time before, and she wants to meet you before we go out.”
“Then I guess I’d better make a good impression.”
She slipped her hand in his and tugged him down the hall into the living room.
The bruising on Bernie’s face was progressing to a colorful array, and the candy pink top she wore seemed to intensify the effect. Bernie held out her hand to him, and Connor crossed the living room and took it.
“Thank you for helping us. I think we all stayed calmer because you were there.”
He patted her hand, took a step back, and sat down on the couch. “I think all three of you ladies are used to holding it together. You’d have done just fine without me.”
Sloane hastened to say, “We would have been fine, but it didn’t hurt to have a little backup.”
“Sloane says you’re a Chief Petty Officer in the Navy,” Sheryl said.
“Yeah. I went in at eighteen, and I’m finishing up year twenty.”
“You seem too young to have spent twenty years in the service.”
“I’m creeping up on forty. Not so young, but not rushing over the hill without a fight.”
Even though he said it as a joke, Sloane caught the reference and frowned. Twenty years of war, travel, training. She’d done some research since he told her what he did for a living, and learned enough to know there was a lot more to it than she might ever understand.
“Sloane said your father was a Marine,” Bernie urged.
“Yeah. Thirty years. He retired six years ago, bought some land, and started his own nursery and landscaping business in Beaufort.”
“We saw signs for an Evans’ Landscaping coming in,” Sloane said.
“Yeah, that’s him. We were stationed at Parris Island while he was a drill instructor, and he and Mom really fell for the area and wanted to come back to settle. He has several Marine buddies who’ve done the same, so they’ve stayed close.”
Bernie jumped on the wording. “You said we were stationed.”
“Just a slip of the tongue. When you’re a member of a military family, it isn’t just the person who’s serving who’s enlisted. It’s the whole family. It’s a different way of life.”
“Are you going to try and stick it out for another ten?” Bernie asked.
“I haven’t made up my mind yet. I have a few weeks to decide.”
Sloane’s head came up. Sounded like he’d reached a crossroads.
The doorbell rang and she bobbed up, anxious to ease them both out of this situation. “That’s probably the pizza. I’ll get it.” She made quick work of paying the delivery person and carrying the box into the dining room.
Collecting her purse and sweater from the hall table, she stepped into the living room. “You two need to eat while the pizza is hot.”
Connor, quick on the uptake, flashed her another toe-curling smile and joined her. “It was good seeing you both under better circumstances.”
Bernie rose from her seat. “You too, Connor.” Sheryl echoed the sentiment.
Sloane was surprised Bernie didn’t call out Don’t be late.
“Think I passed muster?” Connor asked as he closed the condo’s door behind them.
“Bernie would have insisted we stay for pizza if you hadn’t.” They descended the stairs to the parking lot.
“Does she often vet your dates?”
“No. But we’re outside our usual territory.” And Bernie knew her confidence was shaken. She was a
lawyer. She read people for a living. But she hadn’t seen the breakup coming. Hadn’t seen a lot of the things that steamrolled right over her later.
With a hand against her lower back, he guided her to a Toyota Corolla, hit the key fob, and opened the passenger door. “What territory is that?”
“Charleston.” She slipped into the car. It was as clean as the truck the day before, and smelled like the carpets had been shampooed recently.
“Pretty city, nice architecture, and good food, but the traffic sucks.”
“Yes, it does.”
He continued the conversation as soon as he got behind the wheel. “San Diego is just as bad, and as good, only bigger.”
He started the car and turned on the air conditioner. A light whiff of his cologne, something citrus, blended with the chemical smell.
She turned in her seat to face him. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
His dark eyes focused on her, intent with interest. “What is it?”
“Your father really needs to start his own car detailing business.”
His deep chuckle gave her a thrill. Had she ever been this attracted to a man before?
She rested her fingertips on his arm because she found it hard not to touch him. “Thank you for humoring Bernie.”
He put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space. “You’re her friend. She wants you to be safe.”
“She’s probably calling your father to check you out right now.”
Connor laughed and shook his head. “Before our date is over, I want to know why she’s so protective of you.”
That was too heavy a subject for a first date. She turned toward him. “It’s just the world we live in.”
He braked at the stop sign at the corner. His dark eyes scanned her face. “You’re in good hands, Sloane.”
Her breath caught, and she tried hard to ignore the rush of sensual anticipation shimmying down her body. “I’m not worried, Connor.”
The hostess seated Sloane while Connor stood at the highly polished bar and ordered drinks. The same bartender, goatee and earring still in place, moved with quick assurance, setting up a tray of drinks for one of the waitresses.
He approached Connor with a smile. “Hey. Rusty nail, right?”
“Yeah. And the lady will have a California white.”
While the mixologist worked his magic, Connor turned to study Sloane as the soft light played over her golden skin and dark hair. The sweep of her lashes, the slant of her brows, gave her face an exotic touch, as did the tawny tone of her eyes. And that lush mouth drove him crazy.
He experienced the same powerful punch of physical need he had the first time he saw her. In fact, it had never stopped. Just thinking of her made him hard.
How the hell were they supposed to scratch that particular itch with her roommates keeping tabs at the condo and his dad’s presence at his house?
It seemed sordid to suggest a hotel room. Sloane didn’t seem the type to sneak around for a little afternoon delight. But damn, he wanted this woman.
“Here you go,” the bartender said.
Connor laid a twenty on the counter, waited for his change, stuffed two bucks in the guy’s tip jar, and scooped up the glasses. He set the wine glass in front of her and took the seat to her left.
“When did you start drinking rusty nails?” she asked as she opened her menu.
He grinned. “The guys on my team frequent a bar called McP’s Irish Pub. Go there to wind down after particularly tough training days, or to blow off steam. It’s run by a retired SEAL. So we were there shooting pool, and one of the guys decided we each needed to choose a signature drink that went along with our nickname. Mine is Hammer. Since I like scotch, I chose a rusty nail, and it stuck.”
“Why do they call you Hammer?”
Muscles tensed, he hesitated. She didn’t seem squeamish or thin-skinned. If she was, she’d walk away before the night ended. “They say I drop the hammer and take care business.”
She lowered the menu and laid a hand over his. “I know you have a dangerous job, and a great responsibility to protect the people you work with, as well as innocent people under fire who can’t protect themselves.”
She did get it.
The waitress arrived to take their order, breaking the sudden tension.
As soon as she left he asked, “How often do you come to Hilton Head?”
“Twice a year. It’s close enough to drive, but far enough away to give me a break from work.”
His idea of a break from work was hiking in the mountains or going camping. He couldn’t picture Sloane sleeping in a tent or cooking fish over an open fire, but he wondered if she’d be open to giving it a shot.
“How long will you be here, Sloane?”
“Two weeks.”
“How about we make those two weeks an adventure?”
The consideration in her expression gave him hope. “What do you have in mind?”
“Have you ever been scuba diving?”
“No.”
“I’m an expert, and I can teach you the basics in my dad’s pool, then take you out in his boat. What about camping and hiking?”
“I was a Girl Scout, and I did both. I do enjoy hiking, but I haven’t been camping since grade school.”
“Horseback riding?”
“Never.”
The finality bumped up against him, and he decided to try a gentle pushback. “The reason you didn’t want to?”
She raised one dark brow. “The long way down if I fell off.”
He chuckled. “The key is not to do that.”
She studied him. “Why do you want to do all those things with me?”
“So I can be alone with you.”
Her tawny eyes looked tiger bright with amusement. “Hoping to get lucky, sailor?”
“That’s certainly one consideration.”
A slow smile worked across her face, and that small dimple peeked out.
He fought back the temptation to lean over and kiss her and find out what kind of control lay behind that Mona Lisa smile. He took a sip of his drink to ease the need. “There’s another reason.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to lay hands on you, and if I’m instructing you, I’ll get to do that.”
A bit of color rushed into her cheeks. “Scuba diving seems a challenge, and I’m up for challenges, but it’ll be expensive, and I always pay my way. And I like hiking, but not the arduous kind where you’re trying to reach a steep summit. I’d rather enjoy the scenery and take some pictures. And I might be persuaded to get on a horse, depending on how the horse and I get along. But I won’t camp out. The mosquitoes think my Italian blood is candy, there are chiggers hiding behind every blade of grass, and I have a perfectly good bed in a mosquito- and chigger-free zone, and I intend to use it.”
Connor laughed. “I take it you didn’t have a very good Girl Scout experience.”
She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. “We aren’t even going to discuss the poison ivy issue.”
He laughed again. “Okay. No camping out. But you’re going to miss out on sleeping under the stars.” Among other things.
“I’ll get one of those machines that projects the constellations on my bedroom ceiling and use my imagination.”
“What about fishing?”
“I’m good with that, but you have to clean what I catch.”
He shook his head. “Uh-uh. The rule is, you catch it, you clean it.”
She moved her shoulders as though shrugging off something uncomfortable. “Okay. I’ll concede that. Although you’re assuming a lot. We haven’t even made it through dinner yet.”
“I’m not worried, Sloane.”
CHAPTER 4
Night was only a breath away as they walked down to the beach from the condo parking lot. The gunmetal gray of the water battled with the rain clouds rolling closer from the distance, and a strong breeze tugged at their clothes when they bent to remove their
shoes. She folded up the bottom of her jeans.
“This’ll probably hit some time during the night and blow through pretty quickly. It should be clear tomorrow. We could start your scuba lessons then.”
“You really are persistent.”
“Yeah, I am.”
His matter-of-fact tone triggered a chuckle. They’d already laughed a great deal tonight, and it had lightened her spirit. She needed it after her year from hell.
Sloane had never experienced such an instant connection with a man. Not even Reed. After three years together, she’d believed they shared a strong relationship. She was wrong. He wasn’t who she thought he was.
In a way this no-strings adventure was easier to deal with. She could just enjoy Connor. And she was enjoying him. “What time?” she asked.
“I’ll have to get the tanks filled and checked, and I’ll see if Dad still has Mom’s equipment. If he does, you won’t need anything. If not, we’ll have to stop at one of the scuba shops and pick up a wet suit and mask. Since you’re on vacation, I assume you’ll want to sleep in. How’s a little after ten?”
Would Bernie and Sheryl be gone by then? She still hadn’t told him they were leaving. “That sounds fine.”
“We’ll start out slow, just do some snorkeling in the pool so you can get used to a mouthpiece, swim a little, and go over the equipment.”
The hardest part would be to put on a bathing suit to do all those things. She was no swimsuit model, and she wondered several times during the course of the evening why he was attracted to her. “So your whole family scuba dives?”
“We used to.” He looked out to sea, his features still. “My mom passed away two years ago. Pancreatic cancer. The old man and I haven’t been diving together since.”
It was the first serious note in their conversations.
“I’m sorry.”
The waves rushed up on the beach, turning the powdery cream sand to a grayish-tan. The water chilled her toes and splashed her ankles.
Hot SEAL, Rusty Nail (SEALs In Paradise) Page 3
