“Most men don’t insist on walking a woman a few feet to where she’s going.”
“I’m not most men,” he said, his voice gravel.
“Is this because of Patrick?” she asked.
“Patrick?”
“He told all those other guys on the team to watch out for me—he was only partly joking.”
“I don’t report to Patrick,” Ryan said, looking down at her with stormy gray eyes.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said in exasperation. “Isn’t that like, guy code or something? Watch out for your buddy’s younger sister?”
His jaw ticked. Maybe insinuating he and Patrick were buddies was a big no-no? But good Lord, he couldn’t really think she believed her brother spent every weekend with him prowling for women or something.
“Apparently not in your military chain of command, huh?”
“That’s a negative.”
“Well, anyway, thanks for walking me ten feet to my table.”
“Ma’am,” he said with a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
Sarah cocked an eyebrow. “You’re coming to the barbeque?”
“My entire team will be there.”
“Right, I know. I just don’t usually see you at those things. Patrick and Rebecca host barbeques all the time.”
“I didn’t realize you were keeping track of my schedule,” he said, sounding amused.
“I wasn’t,” she said, starting to feel flustered. “I just—never mind.”
“Sarah,” he said as she turned away.
“Yeah?”
“Those guys you’re with have been eyeing every other attractive woman in the place tonight. Be careful. Your friend, too.”
She blew out a sigh. “Don’t worry. We’re just having some fun.”
“Have a good night.”
Dismissed, she thought wryly as she turned and walked away, feeling Ryan’s eyes on her the entire way. Why did she always feel so awkward in her own skin around that man? It was like she couldn’t ever relax when he was nearby because he had her so on edge. And no matter what she said, he always had an amused look on his face. Like he’d indulge her and listen to whatever she had to say, but he didn’t actually believe a single word of it.
And what did he mean every other attractive woman?
“I thought you ditched us for that guy,” Morgan said as she got back. Leaning over, she whispered in Sarah’s ear, “He’s hot! Tell me you already know him and didn’t just go hit on some random stranger.”
The guys they were with spotted someone they knew on the boardwalk and stood up from the table, calling out over the railing to another man.
“He’s nobody,” Sarah muttered.
“Nobody? He walked you back over here and then watched until you sat down.”
Sarah burst out laughing. “Give me a break. That’s the CO of Patrick’s SEAL team—as in commanding officer. He barely speaks to the other men off base and thinks everyone else is beneath him.”
“They are. Isn’t that how the military works? Maybe he’s not allowed to fraternize with the others. Besides, would you hang out with your boss after work?”
“That’s totally different.”
“Not at all,” Morgan disagreed.
“I thought you were anti-military guys. You know ‘they’re all jerks, I’ll never date a man in uniform again,’ blah blah blah.”
“Yeah, I was,” she said. “But that was before I saw that one.” Morgan’s gaze flicked back in the direction of Ryan as if to exemplify her point.
“Very funny. He’s also impossible to have a conversation with.”
“That looked like a pretty long conversation to me.”
“Never mind Ryan. I’ve known him for a year, and every single conversation we’ve had has ended in an argument.
“I’d be willing to argue with him for a night together,” she joked, waggling her eyebrows.
“Very funny. Now where’d our waitress go?” Sarah asked, looking around the crowded deck. “I need another margarita.”
Chapter 2
As Ryan watched Sarah walk away, he could practically see the irritation rising off Patrick’s younger sister. When she’d stood there a moment ago, her hazel eyes flaring slightly, he’d resisted the urge to gaze down at her soft pink lips. To let his eyes roam over her flushed cheeks, memorizing every feature on her delicate face.
Because holy hell, the woman was gorgeous. And she didn’t take it from anyone—himself included.
But something about the way she always spoke her mind had him snapping to attention and his libido rising. She barely came up to his shoulder and looked like she couldn’t harm a fly—but something about her spark and personality was sexy as hell.
Every time she was around she seemed to draw him into a debate. Half of the women he met around Virginia Beach could barely string two sentences together. The past few times he’d seen Sarah, she’d argued with him about global warming, the carbon footprint of the U.S. military, and why everyone should convert to vegetarianism.
She was free-spirited and unpredictable.
He did things by the book. Followed a strict chain of command in everything the Navy demanded. Had no time for relationships or frivolities.
But holy hell.
Verbally sparring with her every time they met was the best kind of foreplay he could imagine. Not that he’d be bedding the sister of his subordinate.
Sarah sank down into a chair at her table, her honeyed brown hair swirling around her, and Ryan turned away before she noticed that he was still standing there watching her. The bohemian floral dress she had on tonight was hard to ignore though—it skimmed over her curves perfectly. Hugged her breasts. Flared out at her hips. And caught the breeze just so.
And those sexy little sandals she was wearing that laced up her shapely calves?
Jesus Christ.
If she wasn’t the sister of a man on his SEAL team, he’d be whisking her back to his place, stat. And he wasn’t the kind of man that chased after a woman.
But good God, those straps winding their way up her tanned, toned legs? That flirty little dress she had on? He’d love to strip her down in his bedroom and discover all her secrets. Get her to stop arguing with him for one hour and just give in. To submit to him and the crazy chemistry that always seemed to be sparking between them. To what they both needed.
What he wouldn’t do to have Sarah in his bed tonight. To untie those strappy bronze sandals. Kiss his way up her sexy legs. Graze his teeth along her inner thighs. Tug her panties down and kiss her intimately until she was whimpering and pleading for more.
He clenched his jaw as his groin tightened.
No need to go back to the table sporting a full hard-on. What was he, a teenager again?
His old buddy from the academy was probably wondering what the hell had happened to him anyway. Ryan had been standing there watching Sarah while his sizzling hot steak and cold beer sat untouched on the table.
He shook his head and walked back over.
“We thought you ran off with her,” his friend joked. “Although I’ve never known you to chase after a woman.”
Ryan clenched his jaw. “Nope. Just escorting the lady back to her table.”
“It’s like twenty feet away.”
Ryan nailed him with a glare. His friend held up his hands in mock surrender, laughing, as Ryan reluctantly dug into his cold meal. Steak was still steak. Nothing like those damn MREs he used to eat when he was deployed as a SEAL himself, living in tents and sent to shitholes all over the world.
He’d seen enough hardship in the tattered warzones and poverty-stricken places his team had deployed to. Women and children who had nothing. Families who could barely afford any food.
Shit. The kids around here all had their own smart phone, the latest gadgets and toys. Half the kids he’d seen barely had scraps of clothes, let alone shoes or food to eat.
That was nearly 10 years ago now. Long past yet never forg
otten.
Now he commanded an elite SEAL team of six men based out of Little Creek—sent those men off on dangerous missions to hellholes all over the world. His team battled insurgents, terrorists, drug lords, and other men intent on causing harm. And it weighed heavily on his shoulders. Yet without a wife and family to worry about, his focus was on his men. The mission. Always had been; always would be.
He ran a hand through his cropped hair as he recalled the pressure-cooker of a day they’d had. A kidnapped American woman in Afghanistan was putting everyone on edge. It would be bad enough in any instance knowing that a woman was being held hostage in a hostile foreign country, but the young woman had political clout back in Washington. She was the daughter of a congressional aide—one connected to someone very high up. If word got out she had close ties to a Senator, it could mean her life was in imminent danger.
Ransom demands. Blackmail. Rape. Torture.
He didn’t take instances like that lightly.
And just because it was all over CNN didn’t mean the U.S. military knew exactly where she was. Or what they’d do. He was waiting on word from the Pentagon as to if and when his team would be sent in. The SEALs were always on stand-by, ready to be wheels-up in 24 hours. At Uncle Sam’s beck and call 24/7. It was a rough, difficult life. And he was damn proud of his men for going directly into harm’s way, whenever and wherever duty called.
He’d put in his own time on a SEAL team and it was an honor to serve as a CO for the Alpha team now. Didn’t make that shit any easier though—watching from thousands of miles away as his men carried out their mission. He had to trust their judgement, their training, their ability to follow through on his orders.
It was no wonder he’d never had time for a family. Never saw a woman more than a couple of times. He’d get so tied up in work, so focused on the ops they ran, they’d give up on him. Wait around for date two or three and then move on to another man when he never called. When he cancelled plans.
Not that he blamed them.
And life was better that way. Easier. No strings and no complications.
Why worry about a woman when he’d dedicated his life to the Navy? He could score easily enough picking up one of the beach bunnies in town if he wanted. There were always plenty of women lined up who were eager to spend the night with a Navy SEAL. Maybe he couldn’t hold a decent conversation with them, but to slake his need?
Plenty of bikini-clad women to choose from.
“She seemed nice,” his buddy’s wife said, drawing his attention back to the meal. He stabbed at his steak, suddenly not nearly as appetizing as it had appeared earlier.
“She’s a handful. The kind of woman with an opinion about everything.”
“She’d have to be, to keep you in line,” his buddy joked.
Ryan’s gaze unwittingly slid back toward Sarah and the group she was with. They were animatedly talking, pouring more margaritas from the pitcher. Getting plates full of appetizers from their waitress. Sarah threw her head back, laughing, the sunlight catching the highlights in her honey brown hair.
Her happiness was contagious, and her friend bobbed up and down beside her, excitedly telling a story with hand gestures. One of the guys casually draped his arm around Sarah’s shoulder as he leaned back in the chair beside her, and Ryan froze. Swallowed.
She could date whoever she liked. Do whatever she wanted. He had no claim on her. And the fact of the matter was, she’d never be his.
“You should ask her out,” his buddy continued.
“No can do,” Ryan said, returning his attention to the meal. “She’s the sister of one of my men.”
“So what? There’s no law forbidding that.”
“I don’t need that hanging over my shoulder. Besides, I don’t have time for a relationship,” Ryan muttered. He took a swig of his now lukewarm beer, the hoppy brew tasting less than pleasant now that it was warm.
Or maybe the bitter taste in his mouth was because he’d given up on his own happiness long ago. Didn’t make watching it from afar any easier though.
***
Ryan walked down the boardwalk an hour later, trying to dodge all the couples out for an evening walk. Good God. Summer was tourist season around here, so what did he expect? Still, when his buddy from his academy days had called to say he’d be in town, he’d jumped at the chance to catch up.
His gaze drifted out to the crashing waves. The beach was dimly lit from the lights on the boardwalk, and he could see a few people down in the broad expanse of sand. Laughing, splashing in the wake. A couple alone was kissing in the moonlight.
Fucking hell.
Could he even remember the name of the last woman he’d taken out to dinner and then home for a hot and heavy make-out session on her sofa? He hadn’t even been interested in her enough to take her to the bedroom and progress things along.
Sarah.
It was absurd, really, but being around her always made him feel alive. Focused on something other than his career, his men, and the Navy. She seemed set on disagreeing with him any chance she got. Kept him on his toes. It was amusing for her to be always arguing with him when she was such a tiny little thing herself. Jesus. Growing up with Patrick must have given her that edge. She didn’t flinch around Ryan because her own brother was a hardened warrior.
Not that a damn thing would ever fucking happen with her.
He wouldn’t allow it.
But another couple of hours in her company wouldn’t be the end of the world, either. Watching her move, hearing her laugh. And he had the perfect invite already.
He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants, swiped the screen, and texted the leader of his SEAL team Patrick “Ice” Foster.
Is the BBQ still at 1600 tomorrow?
Patrick’s reply came a few minutes later.
Yes, Sir. Are you able to attend?
Ryan thumbed a response into his phone:
Change of plans. I’ll be there. Hope it’s not an inconvenience.
His phone lit up immediately.
Not at all, Sir. Looking forward to it.
Ryan slid his phone back into his khakis, wondering what the hell he was doing. A woman playfully shrieked from the beach, and his gaze instantly shifted.
Not her. Just a couple having fun.
He clenched his fists and kept walking, wondering where they’d gone after they’d left. His gaze had followed Sarah as she’d left the restaurant earlier, and he’d been happy to see she was with her friend Morgan, not those other guys.
Didn’t mean he’d sleep any better tonight imagining that she’d gone out to another bar, met another group of men. He had the entire beach in front of him, yet his mind was focused only on a pair of hazel eyes, honeyed hair, and tempting curves.
Jesus Christ.
Why’d she have to be the sister of one of his men?
Chapter 3
“Thanks again for letting me crash here,” Sarah said the next afternoon in Morgan’s townhouse, touching up her lipgloss.
She dropped it into her hobo purse, alongside her wallet and smart phone. Rummaging through her bag, she finally produced her bronzer, and dusted a bit across her face, eyeing the tiny little mirror that came in the compact.
“Looking awfully fancy for a barbeque with your brother,” Morgan teased.
“Give me a break. I had no idea Ryan was going to be there. He never comes to things like that—and trust me, I’ve been to plenty. I get to visit and check out the eye candy.”
“Who said anything about Ryan?”
“Very funny,” Sarah said, tossing a throw pillow at Morgan from across the room. She collapsed onto the sofa, moving her bag to the floor. “I think I got too much sun today,” she said, glancing down at her forearms.
“How could you possibly have? I think you used SPF 1000.”
“There’s no such thing and you know it. Besides, I don’t want all the damaging free radicals from the sun ruining my skin. Do you know how quickly that ages yo
u?”
Morgan shook her head. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“Scientists came up with it—not me. You’ll be sorry when you’re 50 and covered in wrinkles.”
Morgan shrugged. “I’m the only redhead on Earth who can get any semblance of a tan—I plan on using that to my advantage. And when I’m 50, I won’t care if I’m wrinkled because I’ll be old. It goes hand in hand.”
“Uh-huh. Trust me. You’ll be sorry.”
Morgan sank into a comfy chair across from Sarah, eyeing her outfit. “Cute dress.”
“That was all I packed for the weekend—bikinis and sundresses.”
“I’m sure Mr. Hottie wouldn’t mind seeing you prancing around in a bikini.”
Sarah smirked. “He wishes. Or not. I’ve never even seen him with a woman. Some of the other men on Patrick’s SEAL team used to bring dates when I came along to their parties or beach bonfires. I never saw Ryan with anyone. Not that he usually showed up.”
Morgan shrugged. “It was work, right? Unless he had a girlfriend, I can see why he wouldn’t. Isn’t he in charge of the whole team?”
“I guess. Maybe even a few SEAL teams. Don’t know, don’t care. So what are you up to tonight? You could come with.”
“No can do. While you were busy showering and primping for the barbeque, one of the guys from last night texted me.”
“You gave him your number?”
“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not like I gave him a blowjob or something.”
Sarah snorted. “Fair enough. So you’re going out?”
“Yep. Mike and I are meeting for drinks at a different bar down by the beach. Maybe dinner; we’ll see. You should meet up with us later on. A lot of the bars have live music on Saturday nights. We can dance, have fun. And it’ll give me a chance to ditch him if things go south.”
“I might. I’ll text you from Patrick’s and see how things are going—maybe you and Romeo will need a little alone time and won’t want me there. And hey, if I don’t hear from you, just tie something to the doorknob so I know not to disturb you later on,” she added, waggling her eyebrows.
Loved by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs Book 7) Page 2
