Heat It Up

by Elle Kennedy

  “We’re flinging, remember?” he said, heading toward the bridge that separated Coronado from San Diego, where they were heading.

  “People who fling do not go to play mini-golf.” Jane shot him a sideways glance, looking flabbergasted. “Why are we going to play mini-golf?”

  “You mentioned you liked to play, so I figured it was a nice way to spend the afternoon,” he pointed out.

  “It is, but I still don’t get why you suggested it.” She shook her head, which caused strands of wavy red hair to fall into her eyes. She blew them away in frustration. “You told me you didn’t want a relationship. The stuff we’ve been doing, well…that’s relationship stuff, Becker. Dinner on the boardwalk, watching 24 reruns, mini-golf—that is not a fling.”

  He sighed. “I know.”

  “So what is this?”

  Discomfort crept up his chest and settled into a lump in the back of his throat. That was precisely what he’d been asking himself for the last couple of days. Since when had this turned into more than just sex? It was Jane’s fault, for being so damn likable. He had never really connected with many people. In high school, even though he’d been on the football team and part of the in crowd, he hadn’t had many close friends. During SEAL training, where most of the men bonded, he’d kept to himself. Even now, he was part of a close-knit team with five other guys and he never saw them off the base.

  But Jane…he connected with her. She made him laugh. And she turned him on like no other woman ever had, not even his ex-wife.

  He thought of what she’d just asked him. What was this? Fucked if he knew.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, keeping his gaze glued to the road.

  “Okay.” She paused. “This conversation is pointless, anyway. I leave in a few days, so even if we are dating, we won’t be for much longer.”

  The pain gnawing at his insides was disconcerting. He’d forgotten she would be leaving on Sunday, and he wasn’t sure why the thought of her walking out of his life made his chest feel so tight.

  He didn’t reply, and neither of them said much as he drove to the mini-golf course Jane had found the address for on Google maps. They’d been lying in bed, recovering from their respective orgasms when he’d brought up the idea, though he still wasn’t quite sure why he’d suggested they spend the afternoon playing mini-golf. Jane was right—this was relationship stuff. He’d agreed to a casual fling, some fun in bed, so why did he suddenly feel so eager to have fun with Jane out of bed?

  He pulled into the gravel parking lot and shut the engine of his rented SUV. He and Jane got out, and she immediately plopped a pair of sunglasses on the bridge of her freckled nose. The sun shone overhead in a cloudless sky, and a warm breeze brushed across Becker’s bare arms. He slipped on his own sunglasses, aviator-style ones that Jane had teased him about, declaring they belonged in a cheesy action movie. But he liked his shades, and he ignored her giggle as he put them on. What he couldn’t ignore was the way her blue halter dress molded to her curves.

  Dresses. That’s all the woman ever wore. Cute little sundresses, halter ones, the long green one made from that filmy, see-through material. It drove Becker crazy, each time she came out of the bedroom in another one of those fuck-me dresses. It drove him even crazier knowing that, half the time, she didn’t wear panties. She wore them today, though. He’d seen her sliding into a flimsy black thong before they left the cottage, and his mouth went dry, his hands tingling with the urge to reach under the hem of her dress and pry that thong off her firm ass.

  “You’re thinking about sex,” Jane said, jarring him from his thoughts.

  He shot her a rueful smile. “Yep.”

  “Well, stop. I won’t be able to kick your ass on the course if I’m distracted.”

  Becker moved closer and wrapped his arms around her slender waist. “Maybe I want to distract you. Maybe it’s part of my dastardly plan to kick your ass in golf.”

  Jane stood up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his. She gave a mischievous grin. “In your dreams, Thomas. I’m very good at this game.”

  “Crap, you weren’t kidding,” Becker said ten minutes later, after Jane had sunk her third consecutive hole-in-one.

  She demurely held her putter to her side, enjoying the look of awe in his eyes. She might be the least athletic person on the planet, but she’d always been pretty damn good at mini-golf. “When I was a teenager, I dated a guy who worked on a putt-putt course,” she confessed. “We used to sneak onto the course after he finished his shift.”

  “Please don’t tell me you lost your virginity on a piece of green felt in front of a fake earthquake scene.”

  She shot him a solemn look. “I did.”

  Becker let out a sigh. “Seriously?”

  Jane grinned. “No. I lost my virginity in the backseat of a Ford pick-up, which is probably just as bad.”

  They crossed a little bridge that hovered over a pretty pond with fake yellow and blue fish. The path leading to the next hole wound around a big papier maché mountain, which made no sense since the last hole had looked like a beach. Obviously this course had no discernible theme. As they headed around the bend, the sound of male voices drifted toward them. Jane couldn’t help but laugh as she listened.

  “What the hell are you saying? There’s no way to know which tunnel to tap the fucking ball into,” someone said, sounding aggravated.

  “Trust me, Ry, it’s the third one,” a second voice argued.

  “He’s trying to sabotage you, Ry,” a third voice said. “He’s out for blood.”

  Next to her, Becker seemed to stiffen. She glanced over. “What’s wrong?”

  “Those voices sound way too familiar,” he said with a heavy breath.

  They rounded the corner, and Jane was hit by a dose of testosterone, her eyes assaulted by the sight of four ridiculously sexy men. And then the sight of four jaws dropping in unison as she and Becker stepped into view.

  “Lieutenant?” the one with sandy-blond hair said, looking surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  Becker lifted his putter. “What does it look like?”

  The one they’d called Ry looked utterly delighted. “See, I told you guys he has a secret life we don’t know about.” Ry’s playful blue eyes landed on Jane. He let out a soft whistle. “And it’s obviously even better than I imagined. Are you going to introduce us, Lieutenant?”

  Becker made the introductions, but it was hard to focus on names when each man Becker introduced was sexier than the last. The blond one was Carson, who looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ. Will had dark, almost black, eyes and a head of messy dark hair that fell onto his forehead. Ry was Ryan Evans, who was possibly one of the cutest guys Jane had ever met, with his brown hair, blue eyes, and gleaming biceps revealed by the sleeveless basketball jersey he wore. The last one was Matt O’Connor, who boasted a shaved head and green eyes that twinkled as he reached out to shake Jane’s hand. All four men, who Becker introduced as members of his SEAL team, stared at her appreciatively. And staring at Becker as if he’d just arrived from another planet. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Becker wasn’t Mr. Social. Judging from the surprise in his team’s eyes, this was probably the first time they’d seen him somewhere other than the Navy base.

  “So, how did you two kids meet?” Carson asked curiously, looking from her to Becker.

  Jane shrugged. “In an elevator.”

  The other men raised their brows. “In an elevator?” Carson echoed.

  “Yep. We got stuck.” She didn’t look at Becker, scared that if she did, her expression would reveal exactly what they’d done while stuck. She forced the blush from her cheeks and glanced at the SEALs. “Actually, you guys all know my sister.”

  Ryan’s eyes lit up with delight. “She has a sister,” he said to Matt O’Connor.

  “You saved her life,” Jane added, rolling her eyes.

  “Jane’s sister is Elizabeth Harrison,” Becker supplied quietly.

>   The mention of Liz’s name had the men going somber. “How’s Elizabeth doing?” Carson asked with concern.

  “She’s fine,” Jane answered. “Completely recovered from her near-death experience. I’m writing a piece about it for the magazine I work for.” She suddenly remembered her editor’s suggestion. “Maybe one of you guys can give me an interview. Becker here has politely declined.”

  “I’ll do it,” both Ryan and Matt said immediately.

  Carson grinned at the other two. “She said interview, not sex.”

  The sound of children’s voices came from the other side of the bridge. Becker rested a hand on Jane’s waist and turned to the other men. “Let’s keep moving before this hole turns into a parking lot.”

  The six of them played the hole quickly. Well, technically, the five of them. Jane noticed Will, the intense one with black eyes, didn’t take a turn. Instead, he jotted down the other men’s scores and announced them when they reached the next hole.

  “Okay, so as of now, O’Connor’s taken the lead, Carson is at a close second, and Evans over here…” Will smirked, “…is six over par.”

  Becker glanced over at Will. “You came all the way here just to keep score?”

  Will’s expression grew sullen.

  “He’s not allowed to play,” Carson explained gravely.

  Jane looked from Carson to Will, curious. “Why not?”

  “Well, it all traces back to the putter-in-the-clown’s-mouth incident,” Carson said.

  “Which is what?”

  Carson grinned. “Exactly what it sounds like. He threw his putter in the clown’s mouth. It was quite childish.”

  “Screw off,” Will grumbled at the man. He then fixed those dark eyes on Jane. “It really isn’t as bad as it sounds. Carson over-exaggerates.”

  She choked down a laugh. “I’m sure he does.”

  The next five holes went by far too quickly for Jane’s liking. Although Becker didn’t say much to the other men, she liked them immensely. Carson’s sarcasm was endearing, Will’s brooding made her laugh, and the two young ones were unbelievably entertaining. Ryan and Matt flirted up a storm with her, complimenting her, quizzing her about how serious she and Becker were, which elicited a frown from her date. But she knew Becker wasn’t angered by their behavior. He seemed to be fighting back laughter the entire time, as if Evans and O’Connor, as he addressed them, were harmless little siblings he didn’t take seriously.

  After they finished the last hole, Jane took her bows as she was declared the official winner. Becker and Will headed over to the booth to return everyone’s putters and balls, leaving Jane alone with Carson, Ryan and Matt, who all eyed her with extreme curiosity.

  “What’s he like?” Carson asked, lowering his voice despite the fact that Becker was completely out of earshot.

  “Seriously,” Ryan added. “We’ve been trying to get a handle on the Lieutenant for a while now. He’s barely spoken two words since he joined the team.”

  Jane felt her cheeks grow warm. What was Becker like? Intense, she wanted to say. She thought about the way he moved inside her body and added passionate to the list. Thoughtful, because he made her breakfast. But as she opened her mouth to respond, the only word she really wanted to say was mine.

  She had no clue where it came from, this weird idea that Becker belonged to her. That she even wanted him to belong to her. All she knew was that, in the last five days, she’d started to really like Thomas Becker. They were almost polar opposites. He was serious, she was wild and outspoken. He considered each word carefully before speaking, she just blurted out whatever entered her mind. But sex...that’s where they were completely in sync.

  “He’s sweet,” she finally said.

  That got her three pairs of wide eyes.

  “Sweet?” Carson wheezed out. “No way.”

  Ryan nodded in agreement. “No way is Lieutenant Becker sweet. He’s prickly as hell.”

  Jane laughed. “Yeah, he’s prickly. But he’s also…”

  “Sweet,” Matt supplied, looking like he was holding back laughter.

  “Yes,” she insisted.

  “Whatever you say,” Carson answered with a careless shrug.

  “So, about that interview,” Ryan suddenly said. His blue eyes swept over her face, the corner of his mouth quirking. “When and where?”

  “You’ll really do it?” she said. “I thought you were joking before.”

  “No, I’ll answer a few questions. But only if you don’t publish my name. Our commanding officer is pretty anal about that shit. He doesn’t like the team getting any publicity.”

  “No names,” she assured him. Deep down, she wished Becker could have agreed this readily to the interview, but she respected his decision. She wasn’t one of those overbearing journalists who stalked potential sources.

  “You’re here until Sunday?” Ryan asked.

  “Yeah. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” he said easily. He stuck his hand in the back pocket of his long red surf shorts and pulled out a cell phone. “Put your number in here and I’ll call you tomorrow to figure out a time.”

  Jane took the phone and entered her contact info. As she handed it back, Ryan’s hand brushed hers and a spark of heat went off in her belly. She stared at his long, callused fingers, then met his gaze, which was playful with just the slightest glimmer of sensuality. Lord, this man probably had no problems getting women in bed. One touch, one heated look, and even she, who’d been having the best sex of her life for the past week, was tempted to get naked with him.

  She took her hand back, just as the sound of footsteps came from behind. She turned and greeted Becker with a smile, but he didn’t return it. His dark eyes were expressionless, but she saw a muscle jump in his jaw. Was he pissed at her? Angry that they’d ended up spending the afternoon with his teammates rather than by themselves?

  “Ready to go?” he said quietly.

  “Sure.” She turned to the other men. “It was nice meeting all of you.”

  Carson, Will, and Matt nodded in agreement, shooting her charming grins. Ryan grinned too, then added, “I’ll call you tomorrow to set up the interview.”

  They said their goodbyes, and then she and Becker were walking back to his SUV. He still had that distant look on his face, and he didn’t say a word until they were well away from the golf course. “They liked you.”

  Jane smiled. “I liked them too.” She hesitated. “Why don’t you spend time with them when you’re not on base?”

  “Different interests,” Becker said with a shrug. He flicked the right turn signal and changed lanes. “Evans and O’Connor are out every night, chasing women and partying. Can you honestly see me doing that?”

  “No. But what about Carson? Or Will? Will totally seemed like your man-soul mate.”

  Becker let out a laugh. “Yeah, I like Will. He’s married, lives with his wife in a small town, an hour or two from here. So he’s not around much, from what I hear. And Carson lives with his girlfriend, spends most of his time with her.”

  “He said they do this mini-golf thing once a month,” Jane pointed out. “Maybe you should go with them next time.”

  “Maybe.”

  Becker fell silent again. They drove over the bridge into Coronado, in the direction of the hotel, but it wasn’t until they reached the parking lot that he spoke again.

  “You were attracted to him.”

  Jane’s head jerked up. “Huh?”

  “Ryan. You were attracted to him.”

  She was unsure how to respond, especially since she couldn’t figure out where he was going with this, or how he even felt about it. His face was completely expressionless, his tone calm.

  “I saw your face when he touched your hand,” Becker added when she still didn’t answer.

  “I reacted to him, yeah,” she said frankly. “He’s a good-looking guy. They all are.”

  “But you only reacted to Evans.”

  Becker
shut off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt, but made no move to get out of the car. Jane undid her own seatbelt then studied him carefully. “Where is this coming from? And what is it you want me to say? Yes, there was a spark of attraction when he touched me.”

  Becker searched her eyes, a deep line creasing his forehead. “If I wasn’t there, if you’d met him on your own, would you fuck him?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “After a five-minute encounter? I’m not that bold. Maybe if he bought me dinner first.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’m not sure why we’re talking about this. I don’t plan on fucking anyone but you, Beck.” She reached for the door handle. “In fact, let’s get out of the car and find us a bed. I think I need to show you who I really want to be with.”

  Chapter Five

  Becker fought a strange wave of anger as he followed Jane into the bedroom of his cottage. She was already reaching for the tie around her neck that held her halter dress in place. She lifted her wavy red hair and undid the knot beneath it, letting the dress slip down to the floor. She wore a bikini-style bra and that sexy thong he’d watched her put on earlier, and he wanted nothing more than to step toward her and run his fingers over every inch of her body, but for some reason he remained rooted in place.

  And for some reason, he couldn’t stop picturing another man’s fingers on Jane’s curvy body. Another man’s fingers pinching her nipples. Sliding into her pussy. The thought made him curl his hands into fists. Jealousy streaked through him, so strong, so potent that his entire body went stiff as a rod. He still remembered the pink flush of Jane’s cheeks as Ryan Evans touched her hand, the seductive little smile she’d shot Evans. At that moment, Becker had wanted to throttle the other man, and the volatile reaction had caught him off guard.

  So what if Jane was attracted to another man? She was only here for three more days. They would both go their separate ways then, and unless Jane took a vow of celibacy, she would probably find another man after she and Becker said goodbye. Maybe not right away, but eventually, she’d be fucking someone else. Someone who wasn’t him.