Hot SEAL, Rusty Nail (SEALs In Paradise)

by Teresa J. Reasor

  He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind, just in case.” He caught her hand. “I’m a little picky about the women I kiss, though.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Seeing sinuous movement just ahead, he pulled her to a stop and caught her parted lips with his own, distracting her from the snake crawling across the path. After a momentary pause, the warmth of her response had a quick rush of blood going south and his jean shorts felt tight.

  A group came up behind them, and he broke the kiss and smiled at her. The snake was gone. He stepped aside for the family to go on ahead of them.

  She raised her hand to his cheek. “Thank you for trying to distract me from the snake.”

  He shrugged. Busted! “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m not really afraid of them. Not even the human kind. Or rats. I’ve dealt with a few of them, too. The worst are the rich ones. I don’t like spiders, though. So if you see a web ahead you have my permission to swat it away.”

  “And this is the woman who worries about chiggers?”

  “I don’t like to itch.”

  He grinned. “Depends on what’s causing the itch and how it needs to be scratched.” They’d been dancing around that for the past two days. But he wasn’t going to rush her. She’d let him know when she was ready.

  She gave a bark of laughter. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  He scanned her lovely face. Her sense of humor, the sound of her laughter, were just as much an aphrodisiac as remembering the soft weight of her breast in his hand. “I have a powerful itch for you, Sloane, and I thought a day away from the house might be a smart idea.”

  Her cheeks pinkened. She looped her arm through his and leaned against him while they walked. “I’ve always been a little wary of jumping into things too fast. It took eight weeks before I gave into temptation the last time.” She rested her cheek against his arm.

  And it hadn’t worked out very well for her. But he understood her need to get to know him better. He tried to put their limited time out of his mind. “The best things are the ones you have to wait for. What do you say we get some ice cream when we’re through here?”

  “I’d love that.” Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her back shorts pocket and glanced at the number. Her jaw tightened as she declined the call and tucked the phone back into her pocket.

  “Trouble?”

  She hesitated. “My ex has been calling me.”

  “You haven’t spoken to him?”

  “I’m not interested in anything he has to say.”

  “You could block his number.”

  “That’s a good idea. Do you know how to do it?”

  “Sure.”

  She took out her phone and handed it to him. “Watch me do it so you’ll know how.” She leaned lightly against his arm while she watched him. Her ex’s name was no longer in her contacts, though his calls were in missed calls. He went into settings and blocked the number.

  “How long’s he been calling?” He handed back the phone, and she tucked it into her back pocket.

  “Two weeks.”

  “How often?”

  “Nearly every day.” She looked up at him. “The only reason he’d be calling is if he wants something. And I’m not interested in listening to it or giving it to him. Let him waste someone else’s time.”

  If she hadn’t answered the phone in two weeks, she really meant it. “You’re not curious?”

  “No. After looking back over things that happened over the course of our relationship, I decided not to waste another second of my life on him. I’m only wondering why it took me three years to realize I was being made a fool of.”

  “When you love someone, you don’t expect to have to analyze everything they do or say, looking for whatever they’re hiding. You want to trust and believe in them.” Jesus. Who was he to spout things like that?

  But he’d never deceived Cynthia. He hadn’t shared enough of himself after everything to deceive her. He’d been too busy running from the pain or trying to dull it any way he could. But he’d never been unfaithful. He hadn’t been interested in sex enough to even think about going that route.

  “The man I loved never existed, Connor. He was a figment of my imagination. Nothing I thought I knew about the person he pretended to be was true. I was living with a con man and didn’t know it.”

  “If he played you, he must have played other people, too. Your boss, his son. Guys like that don’t change. They’re all about using the game to get ahead. They thrive on it.”

  “Sounds like you might have had some experience with people like that.”

  “Only from a distance. Bad people usually have compartmented lives. They can be the loving father and husband on one hand, and the heartless killer on the other. Nothing’s ever black and white with them, but somewhere in between.” Like the many drug cartel leaders and members they’d dealt with. Like the terrorists they’d taken out. Some had wives and mistresses, children with each, and killed people in cold blood without a thought.

  Like the last asshole they’d been after.

  Causing their love ones’ deaths because of who and what they were.

  The dreams tormenting him recently seemed to be bringing his own losses to the forefront. But knowing that and being able to control it were two different things.

  Sloane’s voice dragged him away from those thoughts. “How can they have a conscience?”

  “Most of them don’t, Sloane. Otherwise they wouldn’t do what they do.”

  They walked in silence for a few moments until they reached the end of the boardwalk and came upon an open spot beneath the trees.

  “He could show up on your doorstep. If he does, I’m available.” Pounding on the asshole for her might help him deal with some of his own pain.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it. But he doesn’t know where I am. The only ones who do are my parents, Bernie, and Sheryl. I’m not worried about him.”

  “Good.”

  She paused to remove the backpack and opened the top to remove two bottles of water, handing him one and opening the other.

  He took a drink. “What else do you have in there besides baby wipes, repellent, and water?”

  “A small first aid kit, some power bars, and my ID.”

  He shook his head. “You’ve shown me up. All I brought were my car keys, a Swiss army knife, some gum, and my wallet.”

  “I’m obsessive.” She tucked her bottled water into the mesh at the front of the pack.

  Cynthia packed things just like that every time they left the house with Livy. Was that kind of preparation instinctive for women?

  “You’ve heard enough about my romantic disappointments. What about you? Any romantic woes you want to get off your chest?”

  God, he hated this part. Why couldn’t she just act like he’d dropped out of the sky the moment they met? He wasn’t ready to own up to his failures. “My last relationship lasted eighteen months, but we were only together about six of that since I was deployed and training a lot of the time. She traveled a lot for her job, and we just couldn’t make it work.”

  “I’m sorry, Connor.”

  “The life is hard on relationships.” And now his mom was gone, the only one he had waiting for him at home was his dad.

  He looked up to find Sloane watching him. They only had two weeks. What was he doing, standing out here in the heat with the bugs and a bunch of tourists, when they could be alone together getting to know one another in other ways. “The most interesting part of the preserve is the shell circle here. It’s just up ahead. After we’ve seen it, how about we go back and get that ice cream?”

  “I’ll be ready for something cold by then.”

  He was restless, edgy. Had been since he called to change their plans, then came to pick her up. What had brought it on? And how could she get him to share it with her?

  When they pulled into the parking lot across from Munchies—a local deli that served soups, sandwiches
and ice cream—he seemed to have settled some.

  “We could eat lunch here then go up to Bluffton and check out the art galleries and gift shops if you like.”

  He released his seat belt. She laid a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you talk to me about what’s bothering you, Connor?”

  “How do you know something’s bothering me?”

  “You’re like a rooster on a hot rock.”

  He raised a brow.

  “I couldn’t very well say a hen. You know what I mean. What’s got you on edge?”

  He rested his fingertips on the steering wheel and ran them around it. Though the silence stretched between them, she waited.

  “Sometimes I have dreams about things that happened during deployment.”

  “After numerous deployments, I’d be shocked if you didn’t.”

  “Some of it is pretty bad.”

  She released her seat belt so she could turn in her seat.

  “What do you do to relieve it?”

  “Sometimes I run. I did my five miles earlier. I just have to work through it, Sloane. That’s all any of us can do.” His dark eyes settled on her face. “I’m okay.”

  “You know if ever you need to talk about anything, I’ll hold it in confidence.”

  He nodded. “I wish I could do that, Sloane.”

  She wouldn’t push. If he couldn’t tell him because of his job… “Let’s eat our ice cream and go back to the condo. I have every movie channel there is on my plan there. Let’s order a pizza and watch action flicks until we’re sick of them.”

  “I thought most of you ladies liked romantic comedies.”

  She shook her head. “I like action adventure. Give me a Die Hard movie or a scary one, and I’m happy.”

  He grinned. “I should have known.”

  “It’ll be a first for you, won’t it? Taking a day to do nothing but sit in front of the tube and watch other guys run around with guns. You can pick apart their technique and tell me everything they do wrong.”

  “Yeah, it will. I don’t watch much television.”

  By the time they got back to the apartment he seemed more relaxed. Halfway through the first movie she ordered the pizza. They laughed together at John McClane’s comedic asides during the first movie.

  The undercurrent of awareness that seemed to bounce back and forth between them went into high alert when he rested his hand on her bare thigh. Her breath became labored and her throat dry, and she wanted to guide his hand higher, to where she wanted to be touched, and laced her fingers with his to keep from doing so.

  She’d known Reed for three years and he’d trampled her heart. She’d only known Connor for five days. Heartbreak and caution kept her from taking the next impulsive step.

  They chose Jack Reacher to watch next while they snacked on the pizza and drank sweet iced tea.

  By the third movie she was curled tight against his side and he was resting his hand on her hip. The sexual awareness thrummed between them like the vibration from a stereo with the bass turned up.

  “We could make out like we were back in high school,” he breathed against her ear, making her shiver.

  “My brothers never let me out of their sight in high school. So I never got to do that.” Her throat felt thick with the heavy beat of her heart. She pressed a palm against his cheek, exploring the texture of his beard. “I’m so glad they’re not here right now.”

  Connor laughed. “I am too,” he said with feeling and kissed her.

  All she could think as he eased her down on the couch was she’d never wanted a man inside her as much as she wanted him. It was a physical ache. He smelled of pizza and bug repellent and him. And he tasted of sweet iced tea and need as their lips and tongues dueled in a feverish quest for more.

  His heart thudded against her as heavily as her own. She ran her hands beneath his shirt and up his broad back. The large couch was still too narrow for them to be completely comfortable, but when Connor’s body covered hers, she couldn’t resist the need to tilt her hips up in welcome.

  His phone rang, playing the Marine Corps hymn, and he groaned and raised his head.

  “That’s Dad. He never calls unless it’s important.” He slipped his phone out of his back pocket and swiped the front while he continued to lie tantalizingly close. After he hung up he said, “The truck’s got a flat and I have to pick him up at the tire place. They’re going to have to put in a new rear axle, and he’s going to have to leave it overnight. He’s already closed up and there’s no one at the nursery to pick him up or give him a ride.”

  Connor caught the tips of her fingers and drew her to her feet. “Come over to Dad’s and we’ll swim and grill out.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve had too much pizza. And we’d both be drooling every time we looking at each other…” Her cheeks heated. “I planned to ask you to have dinner here tomorrow night after we finish the scuba lesson.”

  “You cook?”

  “I’m Italian. Of course I cook. It would be a travesty if I didn’t.”

  He grinned, and she decided he was just too attractive to resist.

  “I like to make my red sauce from scratch, and that takes a little time. I’ll need to run to the market and do some shopping in preparation. Do you have a favorite dish you’d like me to fix?”

  “I haven’t met an Italian dish I didn’t like.”

  She studied him. “I could take that the wrong way and be very pissed.”

  He chuckled. “No double entendre intended, I promise.”

  She smiled to let him know she was teasing. “Good answer.” She patted his chest, aware every moment of the muscle beneath his shirt.

  He drew her close. “Thank you for today, Sloane.”

  She nestled in close and rested her head against his chest. He cupped the back of her head then massaged the back of her neck. He even did that right.

  “We both needed a day to relax and just be,” she murmured.

  “Yeah, I think so too.”

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. She wanted to ask him to stay, to lead him up the stairs to her room and make long, slow love to him. She ached with need.

  His brown eyes looked dark as coco. He cupped her face in his hands and took her lips with a tenderness that had tears stinging her eyes.

  “Call me in the morning when you know what time you’d like me to come over.”

  “I will.” He brushed her lips with a kiss, then came back for more. “Gotta go. He’ll be waiting.”

  Thrilled by his reluctance to release her, she smiled. “I’ll make something special for dessert for tomorrow night,” she said as she walked him to the door.

  “I can tell you what I’d like,” he teased.

  She wanted the same thing. She just needed to learn to throw caution to the wind. As she stood at the door and watched him walk to his car, she wished she could rewind the last ten minutes and give in to temptation. But then his phone would have rung at just the wrong moment…probably.

  CHAPTER 9

  Moisture from an early morning shower hung in the air and gave it just a touch of a nip. Wearing running shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt, Connor ignored the brief chill. He’d warm up soon enough when he started to run.

  Standing on the front porch, he gripped the wooden porch rail and went through his normal stretching routine. His right knee gave him a brief twinge, but he ignored it. He’d begun to notice some wear and tear on his body in the past six months or so.

  They all sustained injuries now and then. He’d had a couple of broken bones and some other more serious nicks, but he kept in shape and addressed the issues if they persisted. The knee thing was just a pinch now and then.

  He turned as Toby stepped outside, a cup of coffee gripped in his hand.

  “When’s Sloane coming over?”

  “Around nine.”

  “You’ll need to pick up some sugar for sweet tea and something for lunch and dinner.”

  “I’ve had the tanks topped
off. I’ll do some shopping this morning on the way back from the dive shop.” He paused. “I’ll be eating at Sloane’s place tonight. She’s going to fix something Italian.”

  “You can bring her out to the nursery to look around before you pick up the tanks, if you like. Let her find something she likes for her apartment. She does live in an apartment, doesn’t she?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll ask.”

  “Most women like flowers.” Toby wandered over and hiked a hip on porch railing. “After I opened the nursery, I was forever bringing home some of the newer plants to your mom. She fussed over them, fed them. She put in the flowerbeds all around the house. Even around the mailbox.”

  “I noticed.”

  “It was her idea for us to go into business when I retired.”

  Connor was surprised. “It was?”

  “Yeah, she said I’d drive her crazy if I didn’t have something to do.”

  He could definitely see that. He’d never heard his father talk so much. Mostly they communicated in grunts and nods.

  “Have you decided what you want to do if you leave the teams?”

  “Yeah. I have some ideas. I know I want to go back to school.”

  Toby nodded. “What would you focus on?”

  “Engineering.”

  “You have the math skills, took calculus and all, and you’ve almost finished the business degree.”

  “Two more classes. I’ll finish those while I’m cycling out.”

  On campus he’d be old enough to be some of the students’ dad. The thought almost sent him into memories he didn’t want to revisit, so he shut off the murmurings.

  It would be an adjustment to leave the teams. Painful, probably. And he’d miss his teammates, but some of them were moving on too. There was life after the SEALs. He just needed to make up his mind what he wanted his life to look like moving on and aim for it. That’s what his training demanded. Set a goal and work toward it with everything he had.

  “How did you cope getting out of the Marines, Dad?”

  “The same way I did while I was in. I kept my eye on what was important—keeping your mother happy and paying the bills. The big difference was I didn’t have to risk my life or dodge any bullets to do it.” He sipped his coffee. “The last five years in weren’t nearly as dangerous as the first twenty-five. My job then was making sure the younger guys were trained and outfitted to take over for me when I was gone. Important, sure, but not nearly as risky.”