At Her SEAL's Command (SEALs of Roseville, Book One)

by Selena Blake

  She rolled her shoulders and reminded herself that the plan was seduction, not dating. There was a job in Switzerland with her name on it.

  Dylan glanced toward the kitchen and wondered if Reya could overhear his half of the conversation. Better to be safe than sorry.

  “Hold a sec.” He strode down the hall and into his bedroom. With the door slightly ajar, he continued. “That’s great news man. About time.”

  “Yeah, I think so. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

  Six months ago, Dylan would have laughed at that but today, he understood. Some time and distance away from the career he’d loved so much had changed how he felt about himself and life in general. He was older than he felt.

  “Are you sure you want to keep this between us?” Dylan asked, feeling a ball of unease flop down in his stomach.

  “Absolutely. It takes a while to discharge, right? I might need a little time to get my head back together.”

  Dylan understood that all too well.

  “Just stay away from the booze. There's no help in a bottle. You need to talk, you come find me, no matter what time it is,” he told his oldest friend.

  “It'll be a nice surprise for her.”

  “That's putting it mildly.” He thought about how happy Reya was now that he’d left the SEALs. There was no telling how excited she'd be when her brother came home for good.

  “So tell me something.”

  “Anything.” That was their way, the code. They could tell each other anything. Ask each other anything. SEALs didn’t lie to each other. Lies deteriorated trust and sent good men home in a box.

  “You dating anyone?”

  Dylan snorted. “No. No time, man. Now that my leg is healed and my head's on straight, I've been fixing up this house.” And exercising every morning. It was hard to let such a long standing habit die.

  He sure did miss feeling cold steel in his hand and looking down the scope of his rifle.

  “The house won't take forever. Then what?”

  This time, Dylan sighed. “Still not sure. I'm doing some part time work for Joe Catrell. You remember him?”

  “Course. Good man.”

  “He's head of security for Trevor Wyatt and—”

  “The Trevor Wyatt?”

  Dylan let out a short laugh. That's exactly how he'd felt when Joe told him who the client was. Trevor Wyatt was world famous, endorsement deals out the wazoo and involved in half a dozen charities that Dylan knew of. But of course, it was his skills on the field that had drawn the nation's attention.

  “He's a nice guy. Super laid back. Anyway, I helped out at his wedding a few weeks ago. And I've been out on a few other occasions when a local celebrity or politician needs more man power.”

  “Thinking of going into it full time?”

  Dylan shrugged, even though Teo obviously couldn't see the gesture. “Not sure. I'm easing into things. This house is keeping me busy, so thank goodness for that.”

  “Did Reya mention Switzerland?”

  Switzerland? “No.”

  “She’s up for project lead. Same as with Spain.”

  “Okay.” But it wasn’t okay. He didn’t want her leaving; he wanted a chance to explore their chemistry, the amazing connection.

  The silence on the line was so long he thought the call might have dropped.

  “Are you gonna stop her?” Teo asked.

  Dylan’s brows shot up and his jaw dropped. “Why would I do that?”

  “Cut the crap, Harper. I know you’ve got a thing for her. Now that you’re out of the military it’s time to do something about it.”

  Dylan’s fingers went slack and he almost dropped Reya’s cell phone.

  “Come again?”

  “Look, she’s my baby sister, and I’ve always been there for her. Maybe a little too much sometimes but for a while it was just me and her. And there’s no one I’d trust her with more than you.”

  “I, ugh—” Dylan didn’t know what to say. His heart swelled and he felt a little taller, but at the same time, the pressure was intense. Teo wasn’t just another brother of a woman Dylan was interested in dating. They’d been the best of friends for years, had joined the SEALs together. And if he somehow hurt Reya, Teo was one lethal son of a bitch.

  “Thanks. That means a lot,” he finished.

  “You hurt her and—”

  “I got you.” What he really wanted to say was there was no way in hell he’d intentionally hurt her.

  “Well, keep me posted. My time's up.”

  “Be safe and come home.”

  “Will do. Take care of her for me?”

  “Always.”

  “I'm glad you're there, now that she's home.” There was more he wanted to say, Dylan was sure of it.

  “Tell her I said 'take care of you.'“

  “Will do.”

  Dylan came into the kitchen, a clean shirt in one hand, Reya’s cell phone in the other. He stopped and his gaze swerved to the stove.

  “Wow. It smells amazing in here.”

  The look of pleasure on his face made her smile as she handed him a glass of water. He must have dried off the sweat because his chest wasn’t glistening like it had been five minutes ago. But she certainly wasn’t disappointed with the view. Twice in one day she’d been treated to the glorious site of Dylan Harper’s muscles. She was pretty sure his muscles had muscles.

  “Thanks,” he said and took a long drink. She was momentarily mesmerized by the way his Adam’s apple moved.

  “What are we having?” he asked a moment later.

  Mentally shaking her head, she pushed away all thoughts of licking him from head to toe to the back of her mind.

  “Paella. I learned the recipe in Spain.”

  He handed over the phone. “Teo said and I quote 'take care of you.'“

  Reya smiled. “He always says that at the end of every call. And I say the same back to him.”

  Dylan finished his water and then studied her for a moment. She'd always felt that both men had some weird power to read her mind. If only Dylan could see what she was really thinking...feeling.

  Would he be shocked? Delighted?

  If his reaction to her lingerie this morning was any indication, he definitely liked what he saw. But was that a lace fantasy or was it her? And why did it feel like he'd been avoiding her all day.

  She'd offered to make him and Greg a sandwich for lunch but he'd quickly said that they would grab something while they were out. And after they'd finished installing the new sink in the bathroom, he'd disappeared into the backyard for the remainder of the day.

  “He's okay, Reya,” he said, drawing her back to the topic of her brother. “You don't need to worry about him. At least not this week.”

  Her stomach dropped. “What happens next week?”

  He cursed beneath his breath. “Nothing. It's just an expression. Don't worry about him. He can't do his job if he's thinking about you.”

  She stared at him, scarcely able to believe her ears. “You try waiting at home and not worry. Have you? Do you have any idea how it is to live my life as if nothing's wrong when the two of you were God knows where, doing who knows wha—”

  She was sobbing when he wrapped his arms around her.

  He didn't say anything as the tears fell, simply rocked her back and forth. She clung to him, soaking in his strength and scent and let out years’ worth of fear and concern.

  She'd said more than she meant to but at least she’d been honest. Every time she'd worried for Teo's life, every time she'd been glued to the TV watching news of wars, combat, death, she'd been praying for Dylan right alongside her brother. She'd worried for both of them.

  And now, thank God, Dylan was home at last. Safe. That just left one more.

  “He's good at what he does, Reya.”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. His arms tightened around her and she nestled closer.

  “It's hard.” She closed her eyes, keeping the tears a
t bay. “Waiting. I know what you did was harder. It doesn't matter if I tell myself not to worry. I always did. I still do.”

  “I know.”

  Strangely, he sounded like he understood the toll waiting and worrying took on the mind. It occurred to her that even though he hadn't waited at home while he’d worried about his friends; he had waited and worried just as she had.

  Worse, perhaps, because he knew details. He'd trained, he'd fought, and he'd watched his friends die. Yes, that had to be so much worse. She was worrying about what she didn't know, and, admittedly, didn't want to know. But he knew.

  Dylan would know exactly how bad things could get in a jungle or some backassward country in the middle of nowhere where life didn't mean anything.

  The new found knowledge made her hug him tighter and ache for him.

  “Shh,” he whispered against her hair and resumed rocking her from side to side gently.

  The longer she stayed there, the calmer she felt. Her tears stopped, the chaotic thoughts slowed and she swayed back and forth with him. It felt so good, so safe and normal. Almost like they were dancing at the end of a long day.

  She'd had just enough wine, on an empty stomach no less, to smile at the thought.

  “What made you relax right then?” He ran a hand up and down her spine soothingly.

  She told him and he grunted.

  “Big, tough Navy SEAL dancing... crazy, I know,” she said.

  “Hey, I've got moves,” he said an instant before he stepped back and reached for her hands. His grip was sure, as was his footing. He spun her away from him and then brought her back against his chest.

  “Did they teach you that during Hell Week?” she quipped.

  “I'm not telling.”

  He spun her again and again until she was dizzy and completely off balance. Sagging against him, she laughed. “From sobbing to dancing... you're a master with damsels, Dylan Harper.”

  “I do what I can.” He steered her toward the sink and opened the drawer to the right. Pulling out a dish towel, he ran it beneath the water and then reached up, swiping her cheeks.

  Incredibly touched by the tender gesture, her breath stalled in her throat.

  “Where did you come from?” she murmured, staring up at him.

  He focused on his task, not meeting her eyes.

  “Better?”

  She nodded.

  “What's our ETA for dinner?”

  She glanced past his broad shoulders at the timer on the stove. “Three. Two. Done.”

  “What can I do to help? I was going to take a shower.”

  Before she’d fallen apart, he meant.

  3

  Reya glanced from the skillet on the stove top to the table.

  “I think I’ve got everything handled,” she answered. “Table's set.”

  She started to move past him but paused.

  “Thanks... for letting me cry on you and...everything.”

  It was his turn to nod. “Any time.”

  After turning off the timer, she stirred the seafood into the rest of the mixture. “And as for the shower, I don't mind a sweaty guy at my table.”

  Reya’s smile, as much as her words, were like a kick to the gut. Evocative and domestic all at the same time. They conjured a picture he wasn’t sure she’d meant…one where he laid her out on the table, stripped her naked, and made her scream with pleasure.

  And maybe afterward, he’d eat his dinner off of her beautiful body. Reya’s hazelnut skin would make a divine plate.

  “Let me get you a refill,” she said, swiping his glass from the counter. “And you go have a seat.”

  Glass in her left hand, she shooed him toward the small table with her right. Dinnerware and napkins flanked two plates sitting across from each other.

  Dylan couldn't help but track Reya's movements as she flitted around the kitchen. After bringing him a fresh glass of water, she ladled two bowls of paella, humming the whole time.

  Heaven help him, but every one of her movements seemed sexual and designed to entice him. She'd always been graceful, but somehow this was more than usual and his cock stood up and took notice.

  His stomach growled as she approached. Her smile grew and for some reason, he felt pleased with himself. And eager to make her smile again.

  A lock of her dark wavy hair fell down in front of her face as she sat the bowl in front of him. The inky strands reminded him of a ribbon and made him wonder what it’d look like wrapped in his fists. Had she always been so magnetic?

  “What?” she asked, almost shyly.

  “Nothing. It's just nice to see you. All grown up.”

  Dammit, he shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't be thinking about how grown up she was. How she filled out that tank top in all the right places. He kept his eyes from straying, but he'd already memorized every one of Reya’s curves. She had more than her share in the voluptuous department.

  “It's good to see you too. But you saw me at Mabel's funeral.”

  Three years ago and yet it seemed like yesterday. He bit back a groan, trying not to think of that day. Normally sweet and spicy, that day, she'd been utterly sweet. Dressed in soft layers, she’d looked so beautifully feminine that he'd ached for her.

  He’d felt guilty for thinking of her at a time when he should have been mourning the loss of his grandmother. As if sensing the chaos inside of him, she'd reached for his hand as the service began and held it all the way through. That day, in that moment, she'd been completely and utterly submissive. Totally supportive, which had humbled him.

  She'd shown him a different side of herself, one he'd always known lurked beneath her mouthy exterior. Admittedly, he'd found it harder than usual to keep from thinking of her, dreaming of her, after he’d left.

  But that kiss...

  That kiss had changed everything.

  “Right,” he said, to fill the silence. He felt like he’d seen her for the first time at Mabel’s funeral.

  “Hope you like this. It’s an old family recipe from the mother of one of my coworkers.”

  “If it tastes half as good as it smells, I’m in for a treat.”

  “Good.” She settled into her chair and laid her napkin in her lap. How did she make such a normal action look so prim and proper? But everything from the tilt of her head, the steel in her spine to the movement of her hands combined to turn him on.

  “Thanks for this,” he said, nodding toward the food. “TV dinners were getting old.”

  “No problem. I love to cook. I don’t normally because…what fun is it to cook for one, right?”

  She ate with gusto and he loved that. In fact, he realized a few seconds later, he simply loved to watch her eat. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her lips and she caught him staring.

  He jerked his gaze away and picked up his fork.

  Get ahold of yourself, Harper. She’s just a woman.

  But that was such a lie. She’d never been ‘just a woman.’ She’d always been Teo’s sister. Dylan’s friend. And now… his roommate.

  The first bite delighted his taste buds as flavors exploded across his tongue. He was reasonably sure food had never tasted this good. Spicy and complex, with just the right amount of tang.

  He moaned.

  “Good?” she asked.

  “Mmm huh. Marry me now.”

  “Deal,” she said with a grin. “As long as you promise to take out the trash.”

  “Done.”

  “And if you want your boxers to air dry on the clothes line the way Mabel used to do, let’s just say I refuse to step foot in the back jungle… I mean, yard.” She nodded her head toward the back door, mischief in her eyes.

  “I’ll take care of it. One of these days, it’ll be fit for a queen.”

  “Excellent,” she said and gave a playful nod. Without missing a beat, she asked “So why does the backyard resemble a rain forest?”

  He bit back a growl, but was secretly glad she hadn’t made more of his faux proposal.

/>   “The guy I hired to keep the yards up decided he’d rather take my money and not do the work. He kept the front yard okay, but since he knew I was out of state or out of the country, I guess he figured he didn’t need to do the job. That’s three years of neglect.”

  “Wow. What an asshole.”

  He pursed his lips.

  “That’s what I keep telling the neighbors, who are rightly pissed. Who knows why they didn’t call. I gave them my number.”

  Reya’d never been a delicate flower, exotic yes, simpering, hell no. So her language didn’t surprise him, it was her next sentence that shocked and pleased him.

  “I’ll help you hide his body.”

  He laughed, loud and long. It’d been too damn long since he’d laughed. Between losing his grandmother, his career, almost losing his leg…

  “I mean, I’m sure you know more about that than me. But I can handle a shovel.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’ll expect me to help you with chores in the backyard.” She gave a playful grimace and then batted her eyelashes at him.

  Another laugh rumbled from his chest and he rubbed the wall of muscle over his heart.

  “When’d you get to be so funny?”

  “Oh, sometime between twenty three and twenty four.”

  Smiling, he shook his head. He’d been gone too long, missed too much. Damn, it really was good to be home. Even if home didn’t include Grandma Mabel anymore, Reya did a fine job of making him forget his worries.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t make him forget his desires. And she’d always been at the top of that list.

  4

  The sound of a demented power tool interrupted Reya's Thursday morning call. Glancing out the back window, she saw nothing but weeds and young trees. The sound grew louder since the old walls provided little buffer.

  Picking up her laptop she moved into the living room and continued planning out the day with the guys. The assignment was for a small project, a second round of development, but she gave it her full concentration.

  When the call ended, she shot off an email to Grant, one of the owners of the company and asked about the status of the new project she might or might not be managing in Switzerland.