She managed to shower most days, though. Not that it mattered, since she had no one to see and no reason to leave her apartment.
God, she missed Asher. There was an empty place in her chest where her heart used to be. He’d taken a piece of her all those years ago, and this time he finished the job.
She’d tried to come to terms with things, but it seemed her ability to adapt to any situation had abandoned her. Probably because she didn’t want to adapt to a life without him.
She was pathetic.
Brooke shuffled into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. At some point in the very near future, she would need to start looking for another job. The money she’d managed to save would get her through for a year, maybe more if she stayed on the peanut butter-ramen-ice cream diet.
Yeah. She really needed to start that online job search. She’d get right on that … after she had her tea.
She pulled out her favorite flavor and dropped a teabag into a mug. She grabbed the screeching kettle from the stove. A knock on the door startled her and she jumped, spilling boiling water onto the counter, which then splashed down onto the tops of her bare feet.
Brooke yelped and dropped the kettle into the sink, out of harm’s way.
The knock turned into a pounding. “Brooke! Are you all right? What happened? Open the door.”
Her chest constricted as the voice penetrated the haze that had fallen over her life. Without thought she was pulling open the door and Asher was there. He looked amazing in dark jeans and a light-colored, short-sleeved Henley. His tan was a little darker, as was the look in his eyes as he took her in.
“What happened? I heard you cry out.”
“I spilled some hot water on myself. I’m fine. How did you find me? I never told you exactly where I lived.”
“I’m a US Navy SEAL with high level security clearance, baby. The question you should be asking is why it took me so long.”
“What are you doing here, Asher?”
“Got important things to say.” He stepped into her apartment and pushed the door closed. “And you need to hear them.”
A puff of laughter escaped her lips before she could catch it. “What makes you think I want to hear anything you have to say?”
He walked toward her, one slow step at a time. For every step, she took one of her own, backing away from him.
“You’ve got to stop running from me, Brooke.”
“You don’t have to do this. I get it.”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you get?”
“You disappeared from my life, Ash. You’re not back in it by choice. You’re in it by chance. You aren’t under any obligation to stay.”
His lips flattened. “I got on a plane three days after you left Grand Turk because I was miserable without you. That was a choice. I’ve spent the last week searching for you. That was a choice. I’m here now. That is a fucking choice.”
Her back hit the wall and she realized she had nowhere left to go.
She held her breath as Asher slipped his palm around the back of her neck and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Maybe we did meet by accident this time, but it was the best fucking thing to ever happen to me. For eight years, I’ve kept myself closed off, emotionally unavailable to all other women. I might not have realized it at the time, but I did that because they weren’t you. Don’t you see, baby? All this time I’ve been waiting, I’ve been waiting for you.”
He captured her mouth and wasted no time deepening the kiss. She tasted his hunger, his anger, and his … no.
Brooke shoved him back, tears burning her eyelids. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”
“Doing what?
“You’re messing with my head and I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what you want. I let myself believe things had changed between us. Then the day of the wedding you closed yourself off again. You were pulling away from me.”
“Ah, Brooke. Is that what you think?”
“What would you call it?”
“I’d call it love.”
She froze, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. “What?”
“You heard me. I had just come to terms with the fact that I love you and there was no way in hell I was ever going to let you go. I’m gonna ask that you cut me a little slack for that day. When a guy’s whole philosophy on life gets flushed down the toilet, it takes a minute for his head to catch up. Can you forgive me?”
“You … you love me?”
“More than life itself. I’ve been through the wringer the last week and a half. I couldn’t stand the thought that I might’ve lost you again. And on that note, where’s your phone?”
She glanced toward the coffee table where her phone sat. Asher followed her gaze. He marched over and picked up it. He tapped the screen and turned it so she could unlock it with her thumb print.
She watched as his fingers moved over the screen. When he was finished, he once again showed her the screen. He’d added his contact information. Under Name he typed Asher Dillon. Under Title there was a single word. Mine.
There was really no way to misinterpret that.
He hit the call button and Asher’s phone buzzed. His fingers moved as be typed something onto the screen. When he was finished, he held it out.
It was her contact information.
Name: Brooke Ramsey
Title: Mine
“Gracie said women like to be acknowledged, and this is the first in a long line of ways I plan to claim you.”
Brooke heart was full but her brain was still suspicious. “Are you trying to tell me that in less than two weeks you’ve conquered your fear of relationships?”
“Not at all. I’m fucking terrified. But, I’m here and I love you. I want this. I want you. No more running.”
“Are you staying in the Navy?”
“I’d like to, yes. We’ve got six months to decide. We’ll figure it out. No more running.”
“So, what happens when you get deployed? Who’s to say you won’t get to wherever you’re going and decide the whole thing is more hassle than it’s worth?”
“Never. I’m all in, baby. And don’t ever call us a hassle again. We are everything.”
“Full disclosure. I should tell you I don’t have a job.”
“I know. I met your former boss the morning you left the resort.” He reached into his pocket, dug out a card, and handed it to her. “Gregory wants to talk to you about his other resorts.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “It seems to me you could write your own ticket with any agency in town with an account like that in your pocket. And it seems there’s an opening for a senior account executive at your old agency.” He winked at her. “You might want to give them a call.”
“Asher. What did you do?”
“I had my girl’s back. You better get used to it, baby.”
She stared at him for a long moment. There was no way she could deny the love she felt for him was reflected back at her through his eyes. He looked determined, hopeful, and yeah, even scared. Her big, bad-ass Navy SEAL, who wasn’t afraid of anything, had put his heart on the line for the first time.
She would spend the rest of her life making sure he’d never regret coming for her.
“I’m all in, too. I love you, Asher. I’ve always loved you.” she said, laughing when the air left his lungs in a rush of air.
“Thank Christ.” He pulled her into his arms and swung her around. He took her mouth with a quick, hard kiss. “It’s you and me against the world now. Whatever life throws our way, we will handle it. Together. No more running.”
Brooke grinned, happier than she would’ve ever thought possible.
“No more running? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Brooke,” he warned, dragging out her name.
She went up on her toes and put her mouth against his ear. “What if I want to run to the bedroom?”
Asher stiffened, his whole body going hard and taut. He growled, l
ow and deep. He spun her around and smacked her ass. Hard.
“In that case, I’ll give you a head start.”
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Hot Seal, Black Coffee by Cynthia D’Alba
Prologue
“Honestly Amanda, he wasn’t good enough for you,” Samantha said as she tossed back a shot of cinnamon whiskey.
“You never complained about him before.”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I think your boyfriend is a douche’? Yeah, right.” Sam snorted. “That would have gone over well.”
Another shot.
“That’s exactly what you should have said,” Amanda huffed, but she knew Sam was right. Dammit. “Are you here for moral support or to get drunk?”
“The two have to be mutually exclusive?”
Amanda snickered at her best friend.
“I’m the one who got cheated on, and you’re the one getting drunk. How does that work again?”
“Wasn’t planning on doing it alone.” Sam winked as she sailed a tiny tumbler across the table to her.
Amanda poured the fiery liquid into the glass and took her shot. She shuddered, embracing the warmth that infused her body and mind, and she relaxed for the first time in days.
“So”—Sam waved a finger at her—“do the three horsemen of the apocalypse know about it yet?”
Her brothers. Sweet Jesus, when they found out it was going to get ugly. And potentially bloody. Those boys did love a good fight. She almost felt sorry for Scott. Almost.
“God, no. I have enough to deal with without adding those three to the mix. They seem to think their sole purpose in life is to defend my honor.” She rolled her eyes. “What they end up doing is just irritating the crap out of me with their Neanderthal bullshit. I don’t need to be bailing their asses out of jail, again I might add, because they’ve got testosterone poisoning.”
Amanda considered her friend. “You know they hate it when you call them that.”
“All the more reason, my friend. All the more reason.” The gleam in Sam’s eye was sinfully wicked as she raised her shot in silent toast.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” Amanda blurted, hating the pitiful twang of her voice. “I’m getting a serious complex here. I mean, what am I supposed to do now?”
She stared into her empty shot glass like she’d find the answer magically spelled out at the bottom.
“Call the horsemen. Set up the ass kicking. Sell tickets.” Sam giggled like a five-year-old.
Amanda narrowed her eyes, letting a sound of pure frustration pass her lips.
“Fine.” Sam slammed her empty glass on the table so hard it shook. “Want to know what I think? I think you need to get laid.”
Amanda’s head fell back on the edge of her chair. “That’s your answer for everything.”
“Maybe not the answer to everything, but it sure would help you get your mojo back.” Sam’s tone became serious. “Listen, Amanda, you need to get away. Take a vacation. Find a gorgeous stranger and have wild monkey sex with him. Be spontaneous.” Sam smiled at her as she refilled their glasses.
Amanda tossed back her shot. “I fail to see how that’s going to help me.”
Sam gave her a droll stare. “Of course you fail to see how it will help. That’s precisely why you need to do it.”
1
Amanda Martin pulled her car into the parking lot. She stared at the small building that served as the local watering hole before she turned off the ignition and slumped back in her seat.
Cheated on again. This must be some kind of record.
So far, the only two serious relationships she’d had were colossal failures. It took her first ex all of six months to jump into another bed. Well, that she knew of anyway. Chances were he’d cheated long before coming clean, telling her he just couldn’t see himself with her forever. As if she were deficient or something.
She’d convinced herself that Scott, her most recent of disasters, was different. He was charismatic and sweet. Okay, so the sex wasn’t mind-blowing, but they’d had it on a regular basis. So what the hell happened?
She’d caught the bastard in bed with another woman.
His secretary. Jesus.
She snorted in disgust. She didn’t know if she was madder that he’d cheated on her or that he’d turned her into a cliché. She figured she should be way more pissed off about the cheating. The fact that she wasn’t meant she’d wasted the last year of her life on average sex with a guy she didn’t really care about. Wouldn’t that make her family proud?
And now here she sat in all her pathetic-ness, feeling sorry for herself.
In the parking lot of a bar in Nowhere, Texas.
What the hell am I doing?
Amanda liked the stability of a steady relationship. The idea of bouncing from man to man just didn’t appeal to her. But maybe Sam was right. Maybe it was time for her to change her ways. Shake things up. Maybe a one-night stand was just what she needed. After all, she was young and relatively attractive.
She could do this, couldn’t she?
Right. Time to buck up or shut up.
The gravel crunched under her boots as she made her way across the parking lot. Two cars flanked the front door and she breathed a sigh of relief that the place wouldn’t be overly crowded. She tried to act casual, stopping just inside the door to let her eyes adjust to the light—or lack thereof.
The smell of stale beer and peanuts hung heavy in the darkened interior. Tables were spread around the perimeter of a small, open area she assumed was used for dancing. The jukebox belted out an old Hank Williams tune while its neon glow permeated the light haze of cigarette smoke. The other side sported a shuffleboard table and a pool table, along with several stray chairs turned this way and that. The bar ran the length of the back, with doors on each end, one marked Private and the other indicating restrooms beyond. She sauntered toward the bar, the butterflies in her stomach the only betrayal of her nervousness.
Two men played pool, swaying and obviously drunk, and eyed her curiously as she slid onto a barstool. They both wore jeans that had seen better days, worn through the knees and streaked with dirt. Their grease-stained T-shirts and ball caps made her wonder if they’d rolled out from underneath a truck before walking in here.
The taller of the two offered her a calculating smile, showing off the yellow stain of his teeth.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“What’ll ya have, miss?” The bartender asked, keeping a purposeful eye on the two playing pool.
“Whiskey. Straight up.” She’d gone for confident, but ended up just sounding cheesy. All she needed was to fist bump the bar and she’d be in an old Western.
“Whiskey. Right,” the bartender said with humor in his voice. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
“No, I’m just here for the week. I’ve got a place not far from here.”
“I see,” he said, raising his brows in surprise. “So, what brings you to our fine establishment?”
He slid a drink to her.
“Fine, huh?” Amanda looked around. “Guess I was lucky to find a seat,” she joked.
He flashed her a gorgeous smile. Stretching his arms out, he indicated to the rest of the room. “You just missed the rush. Ten minutes ago we were packed to the gills.”
The mischievous gleam in his eye told her he was lying. He was working for what would probably be the only tip he saw all night. Amanda laughed, swirling the amber liquid around in her glass before taking a sip.
“Name’s Jacob, but most folks just call me Ja
ke.”
“Nice to meet you, Jake.”
He considered her a moment. “You got a name?”
She laughed again, blushing. She really needed to work on her flirting skills. “Amanda. My name is Amanda.”
“Nice to meet you, Amanda.” His gaze darted to the two men slowly approaching the bar.
“Yeah, Amanda,” the taller of the two said, “it’s very nice to meet ya.” He took the bar stool to her left while his buddy chuckled and stumbled to the seat on her right. They stunk of alcohol and cigarettes, the combination making her eyes water.
Oh, this was a very bad idea.
“No trouble in here tonight, boys,” Jake warned. “Back off.”
“Aw, we don’t want no trouble, Jake. We just wanna talk to the li’l lady here.” The man to her left reached out to touch her hair.
“Let’s not with the touching, big man.” Amanda veered away. There were some things she wouldn’t stand for. Invasion of her personal space was definitely one of them.
“That’s enough, Clete.” Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “Not gonna say it again.”
Amanda slammed back the rest of her whiskey, ignoring the fact that it fried a hole in her stomach as she signaled Jake for another. “Hey, Clete”—she looked him dead in the eye—“how about I buy you and your buddy a beer and you go back to your game of pool?”
Then I can get the hell out of here.
“You’re a mite more in’eresting than playin’ pool, sweet thang.” Clete weaved toward her.
Amanda boldly pushed at the man’s chest. “While that may be so, I’m much more interested in being left alone.”
“She’s got a mouth on her, that’s for sure.” Clete’s buddy leaned in until she could feel his breath on her neck.
Amanda’s blood began to boil. She didn’t need this shit. She was here to blow off some steam, not be harassed by a couple of smart-assed drunks.
“Get. Off.” Amanda shoved her elbow into the man behind her. Having grown up with three brothers, she had no doubt she could defend herself, but she had enough common sense to know when it was time to go. Sliding off her bar stool, she reached into her pocket for cash to pay for her drink. She noticed Jake moving toward her side of the bar.
Hot SEAL, Bourbon Neat (SEALs in Paradise) Page 15
