SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle

by S. M. Butler

  Jill snorted. “Ha. Holly knows better than to try and make my drinks for me. Her cocktails aren’t half as good as mine—I was the bartender and sommelier at the restaurant before I took over for Drake. Drake’s our boss. He used to run Primrose, but he left me in charge when he opened the San Francisco location because he needed to be onsite while it was getting off the ground.”

  She paused to take a breath, and from his spot on the other side of the counter, Shane’s dark blue eyes looked slightly dazed. “Do you always talk this much?”

  “Yup. Do you always talk this little?”

  “Yes.” He shifted in visible discomfort. “So you were a sommelier, huh? You must really know your wine, then.”

  God, his voice was so deep, with a slight rasp that made her shiver. It was as sexy as the man himself, and her heart did a little flip when she noticed those intense eyes were still fixed on her. Although his plaid shirt and jeans were casual to the core, they couldn’t hide the warrior body straining beneath them. The only drawback to his ruggedly masculine appearance was his closely cropped hair—she loved running her fingers through a man’s hair.

  Pity. Guess she’d just have to run her fingers over other parts of him.

  Dream on. Dude’s clearly not interested.

  As much as she hated to admit it, her internal sex gauge had a point. Most men didn’t require a lot of persuasion to flirt—or hop into bed—with her, but she suspected this one would not be easily persuaded. He seemed to be making a conscious effort to keep his distance by standing all the way on the other side of the kitchen, and his gaze lacked the lascivious gleam she was accustomed to in the company of men.

  “Jill?”

  She realized she’d forgotten to answer him, and hearing her name leave his lips only distracted her again. What had he asked? Right. Something about wine.

  She splashed tequila into the stainless steel shaker already filled with ice, then glanced over at him. “Yeah, I guess I’m somewhat of a wine expert,” she admitted. “My father owns a vineyard in Napa, so I grew up in the ‘wine lifestyle’.” She air-quoted that last part, paused, then offered a self-deprecating grin. “Aw shit, I sound like a real snob, don’t I?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Bullcrap. That sounded snobby as hell. The wine lifestyle? Mental note—never phrase it like that again.” Her jaw dropped when Shane barked out a laugh. “Oh my God. He laughs. I was wondering if you’d be able to keep up that somber face the whole night.”

  “I laugh all the time,” he muttered.

  “I don’t believe you.” She slanted her head. “Dude, you strike me as perpetually intense. I’d say it’s a military thing, but I know too many military men with a sense of humor. Carson, for one. Garrett. All the other jokers on their team.”

  “You think I don’t have a sense of humor?” He raised one dark eyebrow. “That’s a huge assumption considering you don’t even know me.”

  “Fine. Prove me wrong. Tell me a joke.” She added triple sec and lime juice to the mixture, then shook it vigorously for a few seconds. When she was done, she turned to Shane with a look of challenge.

  “Fine,” he mimicked. “I’ll tell you a joke.” He looked adorably sexy as he mulled it over for a moment. “Okay, so a husband says to his wife, tell me something that will make me happy and sad at the same time.” Shane paused for effect. “The wife thinks about it, then says—your dick is bigger than your brother’s.”

  Jill faltered for a beat. Then broke out in giggles. “Oh fuck. That’s a pretty good one. I take it back—you’re hilarious.”

  He rewarded her with a grin that promptly melted her insides. Goddamn, the man was hot, especially when he flashed those perfect white teeth and an enticing dimple appeared in his chin.

  “Uh, anyway…” Just like that, he reverted back to gruff and serious, and a pang of disappointment tugged on her gut. “So…what do you want to know about Norfolk?”

  “Anything. Everything. Drake’s opening up a fancy-pants steakhouse there, and I’ll be half owner of that one. We’re calling it the Hampton Grill.” She couldn’t contain her excitement. It had taken years of meticulous saving, but she’d finally been able to raise the necessary funds to invest in her own future.

  “Nice.” Shane shifted position so he was leaning awkwardly against the counter. “Well, downtown is pretty decent, I guess. Granby Street’s not what it used to be, but there are still some cool shops and restaurants to visit. And then there’s the waterfront, and, uh, some malls. There’s this bar I like to go to near the base, and…” He trailed off as if he’d run out of suggestions.

  “Gee, Shane, you are selling the shit out of this town. There’s a waterfront? And malls? Oh my God. I can’t wait to move there.” She set down the shaker and reached for one of the lime slices Holly had set on a white saucer.

  “Honestly?” he said roughly. “If I’m not deployed, I don’t leave the house much.”

  “Liar. You just said you’re a regular at a bar near the base.” Jill wagged a finger at him, then flipped over the glass and swirled it over the layer of salt coating the other saucer.

  “I didn’t say I was a regular,” he protested. “Just that I go there.”

  “Uh-huh. Suuuurrre.”

  Damn, it was fun teasing this man. She kept hoping she’d get another smile out of him, and sure enough, her sarcasm gleaned the intended response.

  His lips curved, and her whole body tingled.

  Jill forced herself not to ogle him again, focusing instead on straining the liquid from the shaker into her glass, then popping on a lime garnish and taking a delicate sip.

  “Oooh, this is good. Wanna try it?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a big cock—”

  She choked on her drink.

  “—tail drinker,” he finished, shooting her an exasperated look.

  But it was too late. The words big and cock had gotten stuck in her head, and for the life of her, she couldn’t help but glance down at his crotch to assess his package situation.

  Oh boy. It was official: it had been way too long since she’d had sex. Not that five months was an astronomical amount of time or anything—past experience had proven she could go for years without sex. But lately she’d been itching for it, hormones all out of whack and libido begging her to give it some action.

  Shane Heron had action written all over that sexable body of his. Just the thought of being crushed beneath the heavy weight of his chest was enough to make her thighs clench.

  Shane didn’t miss where her gaze had dropped, and maybe she’d misread his lack of interest, because there was no mistaking the flare of heat that lit his eyes. As their gazes locked, the air in the kitchen swiftly transformed from vaguely uncomfortable to blistering hot.

  Sweet Robin of Locksley. She wanted to rip this man’s clothes off.

  Now.

  “You two doing okay in here?”

  Disappointment flooded Jill’s belly as Holly strode into the kitchen. Holly’s green eyes traveled from Jill to Shane, a barely restrained smile on her lips.

  “We’re great.” Jill’s voice sounded husky to her ears, so she cleared her throat. “Shane was just telling me about all the exciting sights I can expect to find in Norfolk.”

  She flashed him a wink, and he responded with a sigh.

  “Good, I’m glad. Now shoo,” Holly announced, making a get-out gesture with her hands. “Go continue the conversation in the living room. I just need to heat up a few things. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  Since there was no arguing with Holly when she was in head chef mode, Jill headed for the doorway, margarita glass in hand.

  Shane trailed after her, frowning slightly. “Did she really just shoo us?”

  “Yup,” Jill answered with a laugh. “Holly is a dictator when it comes to her kitchen. You should see her barking out orders at the restaurant.”

  They drifted back to the living room, where Shane was instantly drawn into conversation with the
men, leaving her to chat with Shelby. Which wasn’t a bad thing—she adored the woman. But Shelby didn’t make her heart thump the way Shane Heron did, and it had been way too long since someone had sent Jill’s pulse racing.

  Her last boyfriend had pretty much soured her on the male gender, giving new meaning to the word suffocation. Aaron hadn’t been able to go a single second without texting to check where she was, or calling to tell her he loved her. And she’d probably never forget the time she’d been blow-drying her hair and missed his call, only to find him on her doorstep in a panic because he’d thought something might be “wrong”.

  Needless to say, she’d ended it with him, dead set on being alone for a very, very long time, or at least until she rinsed the acrid relationship taste out of her mouth. That had been five months ago, but if her visceral response to Shane was any indication, she was clearly ready to board the man train again.

  Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that Shane didn’t want to come along for the ride.

  For the next hour and a half, he was polite but distant to her, and whatever heat she’d witnessed in his expression had fizzled like a bonfire in the rain. He sat across from her at dinner but spoke only when she asked him a question. He barely looked her way when the group congregated in the living room for the chocolate cake Holly had baked for dessert. By the time the evening wrapped up, Jill forced herself to face the facts—the man wasn’t interested, and no amount of flirting was going to change that.

  It was nine o’clock when she finished helping Holly clean up. Shelby and Garrett had already left, but Shane had stuck around to chat with Carson, and the low murmur of their voices drifted into the kitchen as Jill dried the dishes Holly handed her.

  “You didn’t have to stay and clean,” Holly teased. “We both know you’re allergic to dishes.”

  “Hey, you cook, I clean. That’s the deal, right?” Jill smiled at her friend, then tucked the last plate in the cupboard. “Thanks so much for having me, by the way.”

  “No prob.” Holly pouted. “I just wish Shane was more talkative. I was really hoping you’d have a friend in Virginia.”

  She shrugged. “You know me, I make friends without even trying. I’ll be fine, hon.”

  “I know you will. Gosh, I’m going to miss you, though. Who’ll be there at the restaurant with me to make fun of all the asshole customers?”

  “That new part-time sous chef seems kind of snarky. Maybe she’ll be your wingman,” Jill suggested.

  “Donna? Yeah, right. She’s terrified of me because I’m the head chef. There’s no way in hell she’ll participate in any snark fests.”

  “I’m sure she’ll drop her guard eventually. They always do.” Jill dried her hands with a dishrag before reaching into her back pocket for her phone. “Okay, babe, it’s been fun, but I should call a cab now.”

  “No way,” Holly said firmly. “I already told you—I can drive you.”

  Damn it. They’d reached the point in the night that made Jill feel like such a jackass. She hated making her friends play the part of chauffeur, but no matter how many times she asserted that she was a big girl who could find her own way home, kindhearted people like Holly always jumped in and drove her home.

  “I’m really fine taking a cab,” she insisted. “You just cooked this whole dinner, and you’re pregnant, and you look exhausted. I’m not letting you leave this apartment.”

  Holly huffed out a breath. “Why does everyone assume I’m an invalid now that I’m knocked up? Nothing’s changed! I can still operate a motor vehicle, you jerk.”

  “I know you can, but I’m still declining the offer. So suck it up…you jerk.”

  Carson popped into the kitchen just then. “How dare you call my wife a jerk, Jillian,” he said with mock accusation.

  “She called me one first!”

  Holly grinned. “She’s right. I did.”

  “Fine. I’ll bite. Why are you two hurling insults at each other?” He walked over to tug affectionately on Holly’s hair.

  “Because she refuses to let me drive her home,” Holly explained, looking frazzled.

  “She’s tired,” Jill shot back. “She needs her pregnancy rest.”

  “Agreed,” Carson said instantly. He fixed his wife with a stern glare. “You’re staying here. I’ll drive Jill.”

  Jill threw her hands up in exasperation. “I don’t need anyone to drive me. I’m taking a cab.”

  Carson and Holly both looked ready to argue, but they didn’t get the chance. Another voice joined the fold as Shane spoke from the door.

  “I’ll take you home.”

  Jill’s heart skipped a beat, then shot off in a reckless gallop. She opened her mouth to decline his offer, but the words got stuck in her throat.

  “Perfect,” Holly said happily. “There you go. Shane’ll drive you.”

  There was no mistaking the devilish gleam in Holly’s eyes. Clearly the woman hadn’t picked up on Shane’s complete lack of interest in her friend. But the cab-or-ride-home argument had gone on for too long, and Jill wasn’t in the mood to continue it.

  Nodding, she glanced at the dark-haired sex god in the doorway and said, “As long as it’s no trouble.”

  He paused for a beat, then responded in a gruff voice that yet again made her shiver. “No trouble at all.”

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  Shit. What the hell was the matter with him? Shane had successfully deflected Jill’s flirting attempts for the past two hours, and now he was willingly placing himself in temptation’s path? That either made him an idiot, or a glutton for punishment.

  God knew his body was punishing the crap out of him at the moment. His cock had been semi-hard all evening, making it impossible to focus on anything except Jill’s curvy body and mesmerizing green eyes. Truth be told, he had no idea what he’d even said during dinner. All he knew was that he needed to get this woman home safe and then be on his way before he did anything stupid.

  The most intoxicating scent floated though the front seat of his rental car as he drove toward the address Jill had indicated. Orange blossoms, he realized. She smelled like orange blossoms, and it was fucking delicious.

  “So you’re going home tomorrow, huh?” Her tentative question broke through the heavy silence.

  Shane glanced over, gave a quick nod, and glanced away. The woman was too damn sexy—and he was too damn horny. It’d been a couple months since he’d gotten laid, and his body had no problem reminding him of it. His cock was straining against his zipper, and his knuckles had tightened on the steering wheel as the burn of arousal coursed through his blood.

  But he wasn’t going to do a damn thing about it.

  “Do you live alone?” she asked.

  Another glance, another nod.

  “Do you have any kids?”

  He shook his head.

  Jill fell silent, but he could sense the frustration rippling from the passenger seat. He wasn’t a big talker to begin with, so making an actual effort not to speak had turned him into a goddamn mute. He felt like a jerk for being so aloof, but it had been a long time since he’d encountered a woman with Jill Marshall’s potent level of sex appeal. If he didn’t gain control of the arousal running rampant inside him, he would be in big fucking trouble.

  “Is it really just me?”

  Her aggravated outburst hung in the space between them, causing Shane to release a heavy breath. They’d just driven into the East Village, and the stoplight in the intersection was red, so he had no choice but to come to a stop.

  Despite his better judgment, he turned his head toward her. “What do you mean?”

  She looked downright exasperated. “Oh, come on, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. The sexual tension! I’m insanely attracted to you.”

  A bolt of lust hit him square in the groin. “Are you?” he said gruffly, playing dumb like a dumbass.

  “Like you didn’t notice. Oh my God. You’re the worst,” she grumbled
. “And a terrible liar, to boot.”

  Rather than answer, he stared straight ahead. And sighed.

  “Did you just sigh?” she exclaimed. “Gee, am I inconveniencing you by sharing my feelings?”

  His lips twitched, but he swiftly masked his amusement because the woman beside him didn’t seem the slightest bit amused. When he shot her another sidelong look, he noted that her cheeks had turned the same shade of red as her hair.

  “Fine, I guess it’s just me then,” she muttered. “Clearly I’m the only one picturing us rolling around naked in bed and doing dirty things to each other—”

  Oh hell. His cock nearly poked right through his pants at the wicked image she’d painted.

  “—which I guess makes me a sex-starved, inappropriately honest person who—”

  Ignoring the alarm bells shrieking in his head, Shane leaned over the center console, shoved his fingers through her hair, and tugged her mouth to his.

  Jill gasped the second their lips met, and he took advantage of the startled response by slipping his tongue between her parted lips and delving inside. She tasted like margaritas and chocolate, the salty-sweet combination infusing his taste buds and making his head spin. As he slanted his mouth over hers to deepen the kiss, an outraged voice in his head urged him to put an end to this insanity.

  But he couldn’t. Her lips were too warm, too pliant, and her tongue was so goddamn eager as it tangled with his. Shane’s fingers tightened in her hair, his pulse thumping wildly as the kiss went from hot to scorching. When Jill whimpered into his lips, it took every ounce of willpower not to yank her into his lap so he could rub his aching cock against her.

  Breathing hard, he finally found the strength to wrench his mouth away. “It’s not just you,” he said hoarsely.

  She sounded equally breathless, eyes wide with wonder and burning with desire. “No?”

  “Fuck, no.” Resignation tightened his voice. “I wanted you naked from the second I saw you.” He swallowed. “But I can’t—”

  A loud honk cut him off mid-sentence, and the woman next to him jerked as if she’d been hit by a sniper’s bullet. Jill’s face was instantly stripped of the flush of arousal, and when another round of impatient honking burst out from behind them, her body shook with visible distress.