He tossed a searching look her way. “Sure you don’t need to be checked out, too?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Are you a trained paramedic?”
“I’ve had a little medical training. In the military you learn a lot of different things.”
“You’re a Marine?”
“No. My father is. I’m a Master Chief in the Navy.”
“Aren’t the Marines and the Navy a little at odds with one another? Kind of like rival football teams?”
Connor laughed. “On the battlefield, no. We’re all there for the same purpose—to get the job done. Off the battlefield… I like to call it friendly competition.”
“Your father lives here?”
“No, he lives in Beaufort, about forty miles away.”
“You didn’t drive all this way for a drink?”
“No.” There was no reason to go into his mother’s death and his father’s asshole behavior. “I just needed to get away from the house for a while. And driving is relaxing.”
“Well, at least until someone hits you.”
“That asshole in the green Volvo cut Bernie off, scraped the side of the car, and Bernie overcorrected, then couldn’t stop in time.”
“Is that what you told the cop?”
“Yeah. Gave him the guy’s license plate number, too. It was hit and run.”
“All that was going on behind you, and you were still able to memorize a license plate?”
He was still on high alert, having just gotten back from Argentina. But she didn’t need to know that either. “I heard the brakes squeal, and the contact between two vehicles. Saw the Volvo swerve into the other lane in my side mirror.” And braced for impact.
“You’d be a dream witness at trial.”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“Yeah, I’m a corporate attorney.”
Impressive. “Where’d you go to school?”
“Harvard.” Was that a little reluctance he heard?
“I went directly into the Navy from high school. Took some college classes online, but deployments interfere and I haven’t finished yet.”
“You could try again. You’re never too old to learn.”
She was right. He’d learned technical things for the SEALs that also had applications in other industries. And if he retired, he could go back to school and do whatever he wanted.
Clearly fishing for a change of subject, she said, “I think this vehicle may be cleaner than my apartment back home.”
He chuckled. “My Dad’s a little OCD about his ride.”
“What’s he going to say about it being damaged?”
“Nothing’s so damaged it can’t be repaired, Sloane. He’ll be relieved to know no one was seriously injured. It’s just a truck.”
A sign for the hospital came up on the left, and he turned off the parkway onto a side road leading directly to the hospital. He parked in the lot as close to the emergency room as possible, shut off the engine, and held the truck keys in his hand, but didn’t make a move to exit the vehicle.
“I’d like to see you while you’re here, Sloane, if you’re interested. I’ve been out of the country for the past six months in a place as unwelcoming as it gets, bivouacked with a bunch of loud, smelly guys. You get hungry for the sound of a woman’s voice, the sweet scent of her perfume and—other things.”
She was silent for so long he thought she was looking for a way to say thanks, but no thanks.
“Walk me to the door,” she said, soft and breathy.
Her velvety voice tripped him over into a full-fledged arousal. “Sure.” He slid carefully out of the truck and went around to open her door and give her a hand down.
As they strolled across the parking lot to the entrance, her fingers curled around his bicep, and he automatically bent his elbow.
She handed him the shopping bag and retrieved her cell from her purse. “What’s your cell number?”
He rattled it off, and she typed it into her phone. His phone signaled a text had arrived.
She took the shopping bag from him, rose on tiptoe, and brushed his cheek with a kiss, her breath warm against his skin. “Thanks for the lift, Connor.” She turned and stepped on the mat so the automatic door slid open.
“You’re welcome.” He tugged his phone free and read the message. Tomorrow night, 7:00, at the restaurant where we almost met.
He typed I’ll be there and sent the text.
She paused in the door, phone in hand, to look back at him. “What do you do in the Navy?”
She’d already agreed to go out with him, so he didn’t have to worry that she was interested because of what he did. And for some reason he didn’t want to have to bullshit her by saying he was a diver. “I’m a SEAL.”
She laughed. Which was the last thing he expected.
“I should have known.” Flashing him one last smile, she strode into the hospital.
CHAPTER 2
‡
Sloane propped a pillow behind Bernie and placed a cold drink, her favorite Dr. Pepper, in a coaster on the nightstand, working hard not to wince every time she studied Bernie’s injuries. Her poor friend looked like she’d done thirteen rounds in a boxing ring. It was a miracle that nothing was broken.
“Sheryl’s fixing you an ice pack and I’ve got your anti-inflammatory meds right here.” She put the bottle on Bernie’s nightstand.
“I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me, Sloane.”
When she first saw Bernie this morning it had scared the shit out of her. Her friend’s face was red, tinting toward blue in spots, and her eyes were swollen, the left one almost shut.
So Sloane needed to worry just a little. She didn’t know how she’d function if something happened to Bernie. She wasn’t just a paralegal and her administrative assistant, she was her best friend and her right hand. “If the tables were turned, you’d be hovering over me.”
“As your admin, that’s my job. Hovering. And trying to anticipate what you might need at any given time.”
“And you do it brilliantly. And maybe it’s time for me to walk a little while in your shoes and return the favor.”
“Actually I’d rather sleep. They kept waking me up every hour on the hour all night. No one can rest in the hospital. You have to go home to get some sleep.”
“Okay. Would you like some food before you take a nap?”
“No. I’m not really hungry. I just want to sleep.”
“Okay. If you need anything, just call my cell or Sheryl’s.”
Sheryl brought in the ice pack and Sloane slipped out.
She stood at the sliding glass door to the condo, and was looking past the balcony to the pool below when Sheryl joined her.
“The doctor wouldn’t have released her if she wasn’t going to be fine,” Sheryl said as she stopped beside her.
“I know. We got lucky.”
“The ER doctor said Mr. Sexy was right to limit her movements. I didn’t realize that something designed to save your life could actually cripple you.”
Sheryl looked close to tears, and Sloane gave her a quick one-armed hug. “But she isn’t crippled, and won’t be.”
“No, thank God.” Sheryl ran a hand over her eyes and drew a deep breath. “So, how’d it go with your Mr. Light My Pants On Fire With A Look? We were so focused on Bernie last night, I forgot to ask.”
It didn’t take much effort to bounce her thoughts back to him. “His name is Connor Evans, and he’s very nice. He even gave me a ride to the hospital.”
“You actually got into the truck with him? I distinctly remembering you saying, ‘I’ll never trust another man. Not even if he has a halo superglued to his head and a note from God.’”
“Well…” She cocked her head. “Actually, I’m meeting him for dinner tonight.”
“OMG!” Sheryl’s eyes widened and she clutched her chest, pretending to stagger from the shock. “He must be Superman to have convinced you to have dinner with him.”
“Close, but no
t quite. He’s a Master Chief in the Navy.” She didn’t know why she didn’t tell her about his SEAL status. Possibly the remark about him being Superman. She wouldn’t date a man just because he was an elite soldier any more than she would because he was the CEO of a multimillion dollar company.
She’d been drawn to Connor’s sexy smile and his dark brown eyes. She’d sensed he might be military from the way he stood and moved, and from his calm during the accident. And he’d reeled her in with his forthright honesty while they sat in his truck outside the hospital.
And the look of open hunger he directed at her in the restaurant.
That look triggered an answering ache deep inside her that sprang to life again every time he looked at her last night. She’d never experienced anything like it.
“So where are you going for dinner?”
“I thought we’d meet at Reilley’s, where we first saw each other.”
“That has a certain symmetry to it. Bernie will be thrilled.”
“You don’t think she’ll mind me going out tonight, right after her accident?”
Sheryl made a scoffing sound. “No. Well that isn’t quite strong enough. It’s more like hell, no. She’s been worried about you since the breakup. She thinks you need to get back on the dating horse.”
Bernie had harped on it with her, too. But she’d been emotionally numbed when the man she trusted to have and to hold her walked away two weeks before their wedding.
It wasn’t his decision to walk away that did it, though. It was his stated reason for rejecting her. He left her feeling damaged, and she didn’t know if she’d ever again feel whole.
So what was she doing now? Why was she starting something that couldn’t go anywhere?
Maybe because it couldn’t go anywhere for Connor, either. He’d be going back to his life after a few weeks, and so would she. She could have a fling without worrying about lasting emotional repercussions.
“I’m just going to enjoy spending time with him. He’ll go back to his Navy career when his leave is over, and I’ll be going back home to mine. There won’t be time for anything special to build between us.”
“Why couldn’t there be if you both decide you’re right for each other? You can work from anywhere, Sloane. You’re brilliant, and you’re beautiful. And your record with the company is stellar. Any corporation would jump at the chance to hire you.”
But not any man. There would always be that one huge hurdle she couldn’t overcome.
“You sure you don’t mind me slipping off tonight and leaving you and Bernie to fend for yourselves?”
“Of course I don’t.” Sheryl shook her head. “You’ve worked like a demon for the past year, and you deserve to take the time to relax and cut loose a little.”
“Thanks, Sheryl.” Tears rushed in, and she blinked to cover her emotional reaction. “How about some sweet tea? I think my blood sugar is low.” Must be why she was feeling so weepy.
She was going to meet a handsome man. A man who could make her weak at the knees with just a glance. A man who triggered a sexual buzz like she’d never experienced before. She needed to focus on that and nothing else, and enjoy her vacation.
“Mind if I change into my bathing suit and lie out by the pool while Bernie’s sleeping?” Sheryl asked.
“No, of course not. I thought I’d fix something for lunch while I’m in a domestic mood.”
“Sounds good.”
Sheryl went in to change into her bathing suit while Sloane brewed the tea on the stove. She added the sugar to the hot liquid, stirred it until it dissolved, then added a few ice cubes to cool it. When Sheryl came out with her towel, sunglasses perched on her head and her cell phone in hand, Sloane handed her a thermal cup of the iced tea.
“Thanks. I checked on Bernie, and she’s resting. I’ll have my cell with me if you need me.”
“Okay.”
Sloane spent some time cooking a chicken dish with penne pasta in a creamy parmesan sauce for lunch, and fixed a salad. She’d just opened the oven to take the casserole out when Bernie came out of the bedroom.
“Something smells good.”
“It usually is good. It’ll have to cool a minute before we eat. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Some of that sweet tea would be good.” Bernie sat down at the small kitchen table as though every move hurt, her naturally curly hair standing up in a tangled mess. Plus the swelling along her cheekbones and around her eyes hadn’t receded yet.
Sloane filled two glasses with ice and poured the tea over it. She joined Bernie at the table. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore as hell, but it’ll pass. I look like hell, but I won’t for long.”
She never admitted it when she felt like shit. So it had to be bad. Born and raised in New York, she needed everyone to see her as strong as the city she came from.
Sloane played along, “You can tell everyone you got mugged on vacation and kicked their asses. Sheryl and I will back you up.”
“I want to tell them I’ve taken up kickboxing and had a match this week.”
“You won big, and took no prisoners.”
“Fuckin’ A.” She shot up a thumb and took a drink of her tea. “I think I need to go home, Sloane.”
She said it so bluntly, a beat passed before Sloane could process it and react. She quashed the brief feeling of disappointment. Not because their plans would be canceled, but because she’d miss the opportunity to spend more time with Connor. This was Bernie. She was her best friend. She came first. “Okay. We’ll pack up and drive back. It’s only two hours.”
“No. I don’t want you to cut your trip short because of me. Sheryl and I talked about this when she came in to check on me. She’ll drive me home in the morning.” Bernie covered her hand. “Paul wants me home where he and the kids can look after me, and you need this break. You know you do. Emotionally, physically you’re exhausted and so am I. I won’t feel like hanging out at the pool or doing much for most of the next week or so. And I refuse to be a drag.
“Sheryl was going to have to drive back on Tuesday anyway since she only had a couple of vacation days left. Hell, it will take that long for her to do her laundry.”
How would she feel about being here alone? What if Connor turned out to be a creep? She didn’t believe he would, but…and there were the calls from Reed she’d been ignoring.
Reed didn’t know where she was staying. And he only had her cell phone number.
For that matter, Connor only had the same information. If things didn’t work out tonight, she could always pack up and go home with Bernie and Sheryl in the morning.
“I’ll stay on for a few days at least and just rest.”
“I want you to give Mr. Rusty Nail a shot.”
Heat rose in Sloane’s cheeks, and she stood to get out plates and silverware. “Why are you calling him that?”
“That’s what he ordered to drink yesterday. I watched the bartender make it, and I recognized the ingredients from when I tended bar. You might want to lay in some Johnny Walker and Drambuie so when you invite him to dinner you can fix it for him. You’ll need a shot glass to measure the liquor, and some lemon, too.”
“He doesn’t know where I’m staying. That’s why I just told him I’d meet him.”
Bernie reached out to grip her wrist when Sloane laid the plates out on the table. “You’ll eventually want him to know. Look, Sloane, Reed pulled the wool over my eyes too. And I thought I was the best judge of character there is. You can’t let one douchebag define every relationship you have from now on. Mr. Rusty Nail—”
“His name is Connor.”
“Connor didn’t have to stop and help us, help me. He could have just sat in his truck and waited for the cops to show up. Instead, he came back to see if we were okay, helped get the car turned off and in park, and helped you get to the hospital after you talked to the cops.”
“He also gave them the license plate number of the car that hit us.”
“I hope they catch the bastard. And that doesn’t sound like a douchebag to me. A douchebag would have been more worried about his vehicle than us, and pissed off that we damaged it. But then I haven’t met him yet. I’d like to thank him and find out if my asshole detector still works.”
Sloane laughed. “All right.”
Sloane picked up her cell phone from the counter and texted Sheryl to come join them for lunch. Then she texted Connor the address of the condo and an invitation to come over before their date.
*
Connor braced a hand against the white tiles in the shower and, leaning into the water, let it stream down between his shoulder blades and rinse away the sweat. Helping his dad put in some landscaping for a client had felt…good, useful, ordinary.
And he needed the activity. Jogging at five-thirty every morning wasn’t getting it done. Though the accident hadn’t been his fault, he owed the old man since he’d returned home the day before with a caved-in tailgate. Surprisingly, his dad hadn’t blamed him. He’d even been cordial while they worked together.
Connor wondered how long it would last.
What had caused this rift between them? He used to call his mom or email every week, whenever he could. Did Facetime with them both on the computer. He’d even tried to continue with his father after her death, but half the time his messages were ignored. He tried calling, and only got the old man half the time, and after nearly two years, here he was, being treated like an unwanted visitor.
Sure, his visits were short, and far less frequent than he’d like. He’d been training, injured some of the time, and wheels up most of the time. SEAL life was hell on family relationships of all kinds. But his dad understood that. He’d been a Marine for thirty years, for God’s sake.
Connor couldn’t think of a damn thing he’d done that could have caused this. And eventually he was going to have to take the bull by the horns and face off with his dad to find out what the hell was going on.
His close-cropped hair was still damp from his shower when he exited his bedroom. Dressed in jeans and a blue button-down, short-sleeved shirt for his date, he made his way into the kitchen. He was so used to jungle or desert camouflage BDUs it took awhile for him to adjust to the different fabric against his skin.
Hot SEAL, Rusty Nail (SEALs In Paradise ) Page 2
