by Hart, Taylor
Wanting to think about something else, she texted Scar. Torrey Pines. She’d done a lot of research on the hiking paths there. It was kind of a ritzier part of San Diego by La Jolla, but open to the public. It would be busy this time of year, but she didn’t care.
He texted back. Pillow talk time?
Warmth settled in her stomach as she pressed his number.
He answered on the first ring. “Torrey Pines, baby.”
It made her smile to hear him say it like an announcer. “I’m excited,” she admitted.
He let out a soft laugh. “Obviously you’re excited, since you texted me and then actually called me. That’s a big deal, dream girl.”
“Dream girl?”
He sighed, and she heard a rustle over the phone. It sounded like he was getting into bed. “I decided you needed a nickname other than Kansas, and I think it’s appropriate. Maybe not that creative, but it kind of defines you, right? The girl who leaves her small town to follow her dreams. Works three years and saves no less. Remarkable.”
She snorted. “I’m not feeling so remarkable. Could we not talk about leaving my small town?”
“Okay,” he said. “We could talk about how the ‘dream girl’ could also mean something to others that say they want to date you.”
The butterflies that constantly plagued her when she was around him or talking to him flared up. She couldn’t help but be flattered. “Not that I have bad self-esteem or anything. I’m just saying you could probably have your pick in women.” She let out a slow sigh. “Strike that. I shouldn’t have said that. I think your ego is already inflated.”
“I shall strike it from the record,” he said in a British voice. “Counselor, let the record show that was properly struck. The girl thinks he’s a catch, but we’re striking that.”
She laughed now. He was funny. Feeling herself relax, she closed her eyes.
“So why did you call, dream girl?”
Not wanting to tell him the truth, she simply said, “Pillow talk is nice.”
“Ahh.” She could hear him take in a deep breath. “Yes, it is.”
Then she had a thought. “Did you pillow talk with lots of women?” As soon as she blurted it out, she wanted to take the question back.
He hesitated. “No. Well, like I mentioned, I had a girlfriend for six months recently, but she wasn’t a pillow talk kind of girl.”
This took her by surprise. She wanted to ask for more details. Had he lived with her? Had he loved her?
“No, we didn’t live together. Yes, there were other things happening.”
Again, it was like he could read her thoughts. She squirmed, embarrassed. Obviously he wasn’t a virgin.
“I wanted to marry her, but I told you about how she didn’t like my face.” He said it bluntly.
“The woman you dated was stupid. I really like your face.”
He roared out a laugh. “I will keep that on the record. Thank you.” He sighed. “It’s fine because life sucks, then ya die … That’s what my dad used to say.”
“That statement sucks,” she said, hating it but recognizing its truth. For the past month, she’d been feeling bad for herself, thinking that pain was only in her life, no one else’s.
“Yeah, it does.”
She thought about his life. Once again, she found herself wanting to know more about him.
“Good night, dream girl.”
Even though she didn’t like the name, she didn’t want to fight it. “Good night, SEAL guy.”
He let out a light laugh. “Is that my nickname?”
“I don’t know.” It didn’t fit, but she’d picked it off the top of her head.
“Guess we can work that out tomorrow too.”
“’Kay. Night.”
“’Kay.”
But neither of them hung up. At least, she didn’t think he did.
“Shayla?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re supposed to hang up.”
“So are you.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the sound of him breathing.
“O-kay.” He didn’t speak for a bit. “Should we just go to bed on the phone?”
“Uh-huh,” she said without thinking about it. Then she turned on her side.
“O-kay.”
She wasn’t sure how long she sat on the phone with him, but she didn’t remember falling asleep either.
Chapter 15
When they arrived at Torrey Pines, Scar turned to Shayla, grinning and unbelievably happy that she let him bring her here.
She was staring out over the parking lot, which gave a clear view of the ocean. “It’s so beautiful. Even though I live right by the ocean, this just feels so magnificent. The forest on one side, the ocean on the other.”
He watched her, then turned to look at the ocean through her eyes. “It is magnificent.” He’d forgotten to look at the beauty of San Diego … how many years ago? Granted, he didn’t come to San Diego very often anymore, wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for his project, but it was awesome.
She stared out. The waves were crashing in hard, the tide spraying against the large rocks on the beach. There weren’t too many people out yet, and he wanted to get up on the path before the crowds came. “C’mon.” He opened his door and ran around to open hers.
Smiling, she opened it at the same time that he arrived. “Well, I guess you’re a gentleman even though this isn’t really a date, right? Friends?”
“Of course.” He shut the door and went to the back of the car to retrieve the backpack he’d packed for the day. “I always open the door, just so we’re clear.” Plus, this was really a date. At least, it was to him.
They started up the path, pausing every few minutes when she said, “Oh my gosh, I have to take a picture of this tree.” Other times it was, “Look at the view from over here.”
Finally, they fell into an easy rhythm, and he started to do what she had done: look at every little thing and admire it. He found himself loving her fresh perspective more and more.
Thinking she would like the flowers ahead, he told her to give him her phone. “You’re going to want a picture of the magnolia tree up ahead.”
Her eyes widened. “What? And so close! I can stand right next to it without trespassing onto someone’s yard.” She handed over her camera and ran to the tree, reaching up to let the leaves tickle her fingers.
“Don’t pick anything. There’s actually a fine for that in California.” He waved a finger at her.
“Really?” She stuck out her lower lip and focused on the magnolia leaves, looking totally, completely kissable at the moment. Boy, did he want to kiss her. After he took a picture of her, she asked, “Will you be in a selfie with me?”
Pausing only for a second, he turned, hoping all the satisfaction he felt wouldn’t show on his face and leave him transparent to her. “Okay. Let’s get together.”
They positioned themselves in the camera and smiled. He found himself really liking this. He snapped the photo and gave the phone back, and they started up the rest of the path. It only took them about an hour to hike to the view he wanted to show her.
“Oh my gosh,” she said again, sounding so very Midwestern and touristy.
He stared at her, his heart expanding in his chest. He thought again how attractive those freckles on her nose were. How her autumn-red hair was beautiful. She’d worn a large hat and sunglasses. Her fairness and need to cover herself from the sun made him smile.
“What?” She turned and observed him.
He shook his head and stared at the view. “Nothing.”
“No, what were you thinking?”
Instead of baring his heart, he pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “I was just thinking that you naïve tourists are all the same.”
She scoffed. “Really? You don’t find this beautiful?”
“Nope,” he lied, gesturing to the ocean. “Just nature.”
She shoved him, and he reflexively pulled her close. They were close eno
ugh to kiss again.
For heaven’s sake, he was a Navy SEAL. He was trained to resist all kinds of torture to prevent the leak of American secrets. He could resist this one girl.
She stared at him. “Tell me more about you.”
“What?” His thoughts scattered like Yahtzee dice.
“Tell me about Scar Walker, Navy SEAL and professional athlete. You grew up in San Diego. Tell me the San Diego part.” She gave him a smile. “Imagine I’m doing your autobiography.”
He was flattered. “Okay, but first, are you hungry? I brought sandwiches.”
Letting out a sigh, she said, “No, I didn’t want you paying for anything.”
“Calm yourself, self-reliant master. It’s just sandwiches from the gift shop at the hotel and waters and two bags of chips.” Reluctantly, he released her and pulled his pack off, taking out the sandwiches and handing one to her.
She inspected it, even smelling it, which he found kind of funny. “It’s probably fifteen bucks for this sandwich.”
“How would you know that?” He frowned, reluctant to admit she was right on the money.
She let out a light laugh. “Hotel del Coronado has been … I sometimes take breaks and go meander through all of the shops and pretend I’m staying there. Obviously, I couldn’t afford it, but it’s fun to pretend.”
He grinned, loving and hating this moment because, once again, he thought about how good she was. How she’d worked so hard to be here.
She pointed at him. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you were definitely upset or something.”
He laughed and found himself saying. “I just feel guilty because I’ve been so cynical about being in San Diego. Sure, I like Hotel del Coronado, but this is …”
“My dream,” she filled in.
“Yeah.”
She grinned back at him. It felt so pure and real and so different than with any other women he’d dated. She said, “You’re living a dream, and you didn’t even know it.”
Unable to resist, he said softly, “Being with you today feels more like the dream.”
She was looking at the view, but she caught his eyes, and he saw her blush. “Scar, don’t do that.”
Waving a hand, he focused. “Okay, let’s eat. Then I can tell you my idea to show you the rest of the sites.”
“No,” she objected. “I told you I’m not having you pay for them and I can’t afford them.”
Giving her a wave, he said, “Open the sandwich and listen to my plan.”
Hesitantly, she unwrapped it. He was already wolfing his down; the protein shake he’d drunk before coming was not enough to fill him after his morning workout and the hike so far.
Coyly, she took a bite of the sandwich, and he had an idea. He took out his phone and snapped her picture.
“No,” she said, giggling.
“Yes. I must capture all of it, even the Coronado sandwich.”
“Well, then, you get in it.” She leaned in and held his shoulder.
Her scent hit him, the lemon and some other clean smell he couldn’t pinpoint. It was a rush. They smiled as he took the picture, loving the fact she was draped over his shoulder.
She pulled back. “Text those to me, please.”
He nodded. It was strange how affected he was by her.
“Okay, tell me the plan.”
“Still bossy, just like the day when you brought me the wrong eggs.”
Looking aghast, she glared at him. “You ordered the wrong eggs.”
Loving the feisty, he shook his head. “No way, Kansas. No way.”
She pushed him, giving him the opening to pull her into his arms. Their breath mixed. Fire flashed in her eyes. “Admit you ordered the wrong eggs.”
Cocking an eyebrow, he kept her close, and she didn’t resist. “I will for a kiss.”
“You wish.”
He laughed, thinking it was worth a shot. He relented. “If I did order the wrong eggs, I’m glad I did.”
Their eyes held. A small smile played at her lips. “Get back to the plan.”
“Okay.” He sipped at his water, unable to contain his excitement. “What if I kept my out-of-pocket under fifty bucks?”
“Hmm?”
“C’mon. I know this place. Grew up here, surfed at the best places. Basically took it all for granted, remember?” He pointed to himself. “I’m the cynical one.”
She hesitated, and he thought he might have her. Her lips pinched together. “You can’t do the things I want to do for under fifty.”
He sighed. “Fine, at least let me plan what we can do for under fifty. You hand in your paper tomorrow, and we can start in the afternoon.”
She bit her lip. “I actually already told Bob I would work tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s okay,” he lied. “What about other days? Mornings? Afternoons? When do you start another class?”
She hesitated, letting his tension grow, and then grinned. “Not for six weeks.”
He snapped his fingers. “Perfect. I told my guys I’m taking some time off. I’ll juggle the project, and we’ll go out when you aren’t working.”
A small smile played at her lips. “Okay, but only the free ones.”
“Under fifty,” he countered. “Listen, it’s helping me too.”
“Oh, right, because it’s always a favor to you.” She winked at him.
He laughed. “Yeah. I told you, I like helping people.”
She looked closer to agreeing, but shook her head. “Look, I—” She broke off, exhaling. “It’s not that I don’t have any money for it. I have a lot of money saved up.”
“How much?” He was sure he had a couple million in a portfolio right now, but she wasn’t the kind of girl you bragged to.
She met his eyes. “Forty grand.”
He let out a low whistle, feeling impressed.
Putting up her hands, she shrugged. “I worked at a coal mine and waitressed on my days off. I wanted it for my dream.”
“That’s cool,” he said, imagining how much she did have to work to earn that, and he realized why she was telling him. “And you don’t think I should spend money on you when you have money.”
She looked caught.
Clearing his throat, he looked around, pointing to the ocean line. “Did you know if you weren’t here I wouldn’t even really look at the ocean line? I wouldn’t even be here hiking today.”
She sighed. “So?”
“C’mon, I’m already less cynical just hanging out with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have money. I’m not letting you spend yours on me.”
“I have plenty of money. Look, this makes me happy. Would you deny me the dream of hanging out with you for a couple of days?”
She puffed out a breath and shook her head.
He squeezed her hand gently. “I mean it.”
She let out a long wail. “Fine, you’ve worn me down. Happy?”
Elated, he punched the air.
She laughed.
He pointed at her. “Okay, Ms. Castle. Don’t make plans for your off time, because that time is mine.”
Grinning, she gave him a sideways look. “How come you make that sound very intimidating?”
“Whatever.”
“Only if you tell me about where you grew up,” she teased.
That was easy. “I grew up in Carlsbad. It’s the not-so-ritzy part of San Diego. As you know, my mom left when I was fourteen, then had a heart attack a year later.” He shrugged, not liking to think about his mom.
“I’m sorry.”
He moved on. “Dad ran the San Diego Cruises. They do whale watching and other things. My dad was an alcoholic, and my brother and I pretty much ran the company until I graduated.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, compassion in her eyes.
The side of his lip tugged up. “Thanks, but it really doesn’t bug me anymore.” He sighed, feeling like he was misrepresenting himself. “After I join
ed the Navy, my dad got sober. He and Steven ran things until he died two years ago. When I came back, I just felt like …”
She squeezed his hand. “Like you missed out.”
It took him by surprise she would be so attuned to that. He hadn’t even realized it until she said it. “I don’t know.”
She waited.
A bit uncomfortable, he broke from her and turned to face the beach, running his hand through his hair. He hadn’t thought about it that way.
“It hurt you,” she said, standing behind him.
He couldn’t speak. Had it hurt him? Maybe. He felt her hand on his shoulder, giving him the strength to continue. “Dad passed just as I was getting discharged from the Navy. My brother really wanted me to stay, but I couldn’t. Maybe—” He broke off.
“It’s okay,” she said.
He clenched a hand into a fist, not realizing all this emotion would be unearthed inside of him. “I missed the best part. I missed the part where my dad was sober. I was mad, I have been mad, at Steven for that.” It was crazy, to have this epiphany.
Her hand slipped into his again. “I actually think you might be the dream guy.” Gently, she put her hand on his face, tracing the scar. He closed his eyes, savoring her touch. “There is so much inside of you. You give so much. You felt guilty for leaving your brother, but you also felt a bit jealous you didn’t get to know your father when it was good.”
He nodded, unable to speak.
“There’s a lot of pain beneath the visible scars.”
He blinked, his eyes suddenly burning.
“Now, you’re giving so much to help the vets who feel the same thing you do—the loss of time, the physical loss, the emotional and mental loss.”
It was strange to Scar that this woman understood him so well. There was nothing else to do but lean down and gently press his lips to hers. “That kiss was purely a thank-you for the therapy session.”
She nodded, and he saw tears in her eyes. “I can be your therapist.”
Sucking in a breath, he shook his head. “Nah, I don’t need a full-time therapist.” What he didn’t say was that he needed a full-time girlfriend. He kept her hand and took off onto the path. “Enough gabbing. Let’s keep going.”
