Let us know if we need to come get you.
“Let me guess. Another text from your mystery man.”
Ella raised her eyebrows. “Sorry to disappoint, but there’s no secret boyfriend. Just Brianna asking if they needed to come rescue me.”
“From?”
“You, apparently.”
Brent chuckled. “Brianna’s smart enough to know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. I can be forward, but I’d never do anything you don’t want. Say the word and we’ll go. Besides, like I said, Matthew told me to stay away from you.”
“So you thought you’d buy me pizza?”
“There’s nothing wrong with pizza.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So I’m attracted to you,” he said, his eyes sparking. “Doesn’t mean I can’t keep my hands to myself.”
“Is that what you were doing earlier?”
His icy blue gaze flicked to hers, heat filling them. “You didn’t seem to mind, sweetheart. And I didn’t even get to the good part yet.”
“Brent,” she said, flushing.
“Hell. I fucking love the way my name sounds on your lips. It’s a damn shame you live down in Florida, because one night with you would never be enough.”
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
“I know. Like I said—one night wouldn’t be enough. For either of us.”
Ella laughed. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”
“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.”
***
Brent’s eyes roamed over Ella again. He had to get his brain back on track before he dragged her out of the restaurant right now. Kissed her on the sidewalk. Backed her against the brick wall of the building. Made her cry out his name right there in the dark.
“When do you fly back to Florida?” he finally asked.
“Tomorrow.”
Brent raised his eyebrows.
“I need a job. I still have a year of college left to pay tuition for,” she said, taking a sip of her soda. He nodded, trying not to watch the way her pink lips pursed around the straw as she took another sip of her drink. The subtle, innocent action was driving him crazy as he imaged all the ways that mouth could move over him. He wanted Ella’s mouth everywhere. His lips. His chest. His dick.
Hell. Just the thought of her wrapping that mouth around his cock could fuel his fantasies all night.
Brent cleared his throat, trying to pay attention to the conversation at hand. Trying to think of anything else.
Ella shrugged, and Brent realized he’d missed half of what she’d said.
“What are you majoring in?”
“Finance. Ironic, right? But you need money to make money.”
Brent’s gaze softened. Hell. Lots of women her age would be out partying on their time off from school, chasing after the frat boys or something. Doing shots and dancing on bars. Having fun with friends. He had to respect the fact that she wanted to support herself. That she was paying her way through school. Not that he approved of her last job choice. Brianna had told Matthew the cocktail lounge paid well, but their safety should’ve been their first priority. Nothing was worth putting yourself in jeopardy like that.
“Your parents can’t help you out?”
A shadow crossed her face. “They’re not alive anymore,” she said softly. A loud group walked in, and she briefly glanced over to the door, blinking back the wetness in her eyes. Brent’s chest clenched as she swallowed.
Shit. Way to make him feel like the biggest jerk on Earth. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Hell. There wasn’t much else to say to a bombshell like that.
“Car accident.” She didn’t elaborate on what had happened, but Brent respected that. The last thing he wanted to do was explain the circumstances of his sister’s death when the subject came up. That shit was just too damn sad.
“There’s got to be other jobs down there,” he said, realization suddenly dawning on him that she really was all alone. “What about something on campus?”
“There’s jobs,” she agreed. “They just don’t pay as well. That was sort of the reason I ended up serving drinks in the first place.”
His gaze darkened. “You haven’t been back there, have you?”
Innocent blue eyes flicked over to him, and a hint of a blush spread across her cheeks. “To the cocktail lounge? Just to get my paycheck. Frank didn’t want to pay me for not giving him any notice.”
“Damn it, you shouldn’t go there alone. Not after what happened.” Images of Brianna crying in the back hallway flashed through his mind. Matthew had looked ready to murder that asshole who’d attacked her, and Brent had a feeling he would’ve if he hadn’t been trying to console Brianna. And if the other guys hadn’t been there to deal with him.
Ella shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I needed the money, and Frank didn’t want to give me my last paycheck. Brianna and I worked there for a while without any problems.”
“Hell, I wish I’d known. I’d have gone there myself,” Brent muttered. “Given that prick a piece of my mind.”
“You can’t fly down to Florida every time I need help,” Ella said.
“I would’ve. That guy was a jackass.”
Ella looked somewhat taken aback. “You know what? You’re different than everyone thinks.”
“Everyone being who?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The other women seem a bit, uh, intimidated by you,” Ella admitted.
“The other women are scared of me?” Brent asked curiously. The guys on his team loved to rib him about his womanizing ways, but he was surprised to hear the women had talked about him. He sure the hell didn’t so much as look at his buddies’ women, let alone hit on them. Then again, maybe it shouldn’t be such a shock they’d talked about him—he was the odd man out. The black sheep of the group.
“You just, uh, don’t have the best reputation.”
Brent chuckled. “I’m a Navy SEAL just like their men.”
She shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “You know what I mean.”
“You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice growing quiet.
He was egging her on earlier, yes, but somehow this mattered to him. Maybe he did want her more than he wanted his next breath, but he didn’t want her frightened of him. Not now. Not ever.
She was silent for a moment before finally meeting his penetrating stare. “You saw where Brianna and I worked, right? A lot of those guys were just there for a night of fun. A couple of drinks with their buddies. A night hitting on pretty women. But some of them? They weren’t good guys. They wanted more than just a drink and didn’t always like when they got ‘no’ for an answer.”
She unwittingly shuddered, and ire roiled through his gut. It felt like someone had jabbed him in the chest with a hot coal poker—the pain was so immense and immediate.
“Did someone hurt you?” he asked. The gravel in his voice surprised him. As did the way his pulse pounded at the idea of anyone causing Ella harm. Seconds ticked by, and he held his breath as he waited on her response.
“What?”
“Did someone hurt you?” he repeated.
“No, nothing like that,” she hastily answered. “But you saw what happened with Brianna. Some guys just think they’re entitled to more. That any woman dressed in a revealing outfit is asking for it.”
“They need to have their—”
The waitress brought over their pizza just then, cutting him off, and Brent wanted to curse at the bad timing. Ella had gone straight back to that shit manager to demand her last paycheck. She was holed away up here in Virginia, spending her spring break with Brianna and Matthew, not at home. Not with her other friends. Deny it all she wanted, but he had a gut feeling that something was going on.
And just now? When he’d questioned her?
She’d answered too quickly.
Something was up, and she wasn’t sharing it. So, question was, why did that bother him?
Ella thanked their waitress
and slid a slice of pizza onto each of their plates. Gooey cheese stretched from the piping hot pizza, and his stomach rumbled. Hell. He’d eaten hours ago, but after the hours of training they’d put in today, he felt like he could polish off the entire thing himself. Not that he was unwilling to share it with her. A strange sort of satisfaction flowed through him at feeding her. Providing for her.
Hell, the only time he’d shared a meal with a woman was if you counted licking chocolate sauce off of one.
Ella handed Brent a plate of pizza, and he felt an unexpected feeling of gratitude wash over him. When was the last time anyone had fixed him a plate of anything? Forget making him a homemade meal; the women he hung around with probably wouldn’t even buy him a drink, let alone offer him a plateful of food. It was such a small, insignificant gesture. Why did it matter to him?
Ella took a bite of her pizza, a smile coming to her face. “This is damn good pizza. Thanks. I was actually a little hungry.”
Brent nodded, taking a bite himself, and she looked at him thoughtfully.
“What?” he finally asked.
“Even though you seem to enjoy your reputation, you’re not a bad guy, Brent.”
“Honey, the amount of women I’ve been with would make your head spin.”
“Probably.”
“I’ve spent most of the night imagining what kind of panties you have on.”
She blushed, and that made him wonder even more. His gaze roamed lower, and her nipples pebbled beneath her little tank top. It took everything in him not to comment. Because goddamn that was fucking hot.
“You’re just trying to embarrass me,” she finally said.
He chuffed out a laugh. Had a woman ever called him on his shit…ever? “Maybe so,” he agreed. “But even if I was just trying to rile you up, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
She nervously swallowed. “I’m leaving soon. Back to Florida, I mean.”
“Yep. And Matthew already said he’d bust my balls for touching you.”
“And I’m still right,” she said, taking another bite of her pizza. She looked almost smug, and Brent raised his eyebrows.
“About?”
“You.”
“I’ve made mistakes,” he muttered.
“We all have. But those men that I mentioned? The ones who acted like women should fall at their feet trying to please them? You’re nothing like them.”
He nodded, uneasiness stirring in his chest. Hell. He’d helped her, maybe. Been there when Matthew rushed to Brianna’s aid. Kept Ella’s piece of shit manager out of her face. But what would Ella think if she knew that despite his career, despite his connections in the Navy, his training as a SEAL, he couldn’t even protect his own flesh and blood? That when it came down to it, Lizzie had all but been murdered on his watch.
He’d sworn to protect his country. He should’ve done more for his own family.
“Brent,” she insisted, looking at him until he met her gaze.
“I wouldn’t go after a woman that way—no,” he agreed. “Not when she wasn’t interested.”
Not when there were countless others who were.
“Exactly. So whatever you’re beating yourself up over—don’t. You’ll never be like some of those men.”
He grunted in affirmation, polishing off his third slice of pizza. Maybe he wasn’t like them, but he had his own damn problems. His own failures. And that shit would never go away.
“Let’s head out,” he grumbled, rising to his feet.
She looked slightly confused at his abrupt announcement they should go but agreed. As she stood up, he could see the questions in her eyes. Hell. He wasn’t anyone’s hero. The sooner she realized that, the better off they’d both be.
Chapter 6
“I parked a couple of blocks down,” Brent said, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers as they exited the pizzeria. He waited until she’d walked through the door to let it shut behind them, and Ella resisted the urge to shiver as she brushed past him. His warmth and heat were so tempting, even with his abrupt decision to call it a night. His clean, masculine scent filled the air, and she had the craziest urge to go to him, letting him wrap her up in those muscular arms. She barely came up to his shoulder, and he’d practically engulf her in a hug. Shelter her. Make her feel safe.
Geez. The only time he probably held a woman was when they were in bed together. If that. He certainly wasn’t the type of man to stand around embracing her under the stars.
“I’ll come pick you up,” he said, his voice deep. “Wait right here. It’s late.”
“I can walk.”
They started down the sidewalk in silence, Ella clutching Brent’s leather jacket around herself. This entire night was starting to feel surreal, like a dream she was about to wake up from at any moment. She didn’t belong here, in Virginia Beach. She shouldn’t be out for a midnight stroll with Brent. Hell, it was like she’d left her life behind in Florida for a little fantasy vacation. That didn’t stop reality from bearing down on her though. She was barely scraping by, could hardly afford to pay her regular bills let alone tuition, and she had some sleezeball texting her endlessly, reminding her what it would take to get her job back after she’d walked out.
Brent had obviously taken pity on her and paid for their pizza tonight, but he was more clued in than Brianna that she was on an extremely limited budget. Part of her felt embarrassed that he seemed to guess she didn’t have a lot of money. Another part of her didn’t really care—he didn’t make her feel bad about it. Didn’t seem to expect anything despite paying her way this evening. And like he said earlier, it was just a pizza. It’s not like she owed him her undying gratitude or something.
Too bad every man wasn’t like him.
She’d made the mistake of checking her phone again when she’d ducked into the ladies room, and sure enough, she had six more messages from Frank. Plus a voicemail. Reluctantly, she’d finally sent him a text saying she’d be there that weekend. But was leaving the second her shift was over.
His reply wasn’t too promising:
I need you here early. My office.
He was probably just going to go over her schedule, she told herself. Certainly he wouldn’t expect anything from her in the middle of the day, with the others arriving any minute. Coming in early wasn’t the same as going home with him. There wasn’t anything untoward about arriving early for a meeting with her boss. With absolutely no one else around.
She stifled a groan as she ground her teeth together. Not for the first time, she wished Brianna would still be working there with her. She’d never put up with that crap. Plus there was safety in numbers and all that. Neither of them had loved serving cocktails, but it was a job. And it hadn’t exactly been a safety hazard until recently. How had everything gotten turned upside down so quickly?
“Damn, it’s late,” Brent muttered, seemingly to himself. They walked under a lamppost, and she could see the shadows beneath his eyes. She assumed he was out late every night though, judging from his reputation.
“I can catch a cab,” Ella said.
“I’m not the type of man to offer a woman a ride home and then send her on her way,” Brent said, his voice rough. “It’s almost midnight.”
“You seemed in a hurry to leave. Chill out.” What did she care? He’d see her safely home and be on his merry way.
“Ella,” Brent said. They way her name sounded in his deep voice sent shivers racing down her spine. Or maybe it was just the cool ocean air. Blue eyes blazed down at her. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Right, I got it,” she assured him. “I won’t pry into your life if you won’t pry into mine.”
He narrowed his gaze, and she neatly changed the subject. “You guys have early training in the morning?”
His eyes met hers, but he didn’t say anything. “I haven’t told Brianna I have to leave sooner than expected,” Ella explained. “If Matthew’s gone at the crack of dawn for PT or whatever you guys do, may
be we can have some girl time before my flight. You know, grab breakfast or something. And I have to get Kenley’s key back to her.”
“You didn’t tell Brianna you were leaving?”
“I wasn’t planning to fly out for a few more days. New job lead,” she said without elaborating.
It wasn’t so much a new job as an old job that she now dreaded returning to. It wasn’t exactly Brent’s concern though. He was probably too busy saving the world to pay any attention to her problems. Why worry about her when there were entire damn countries in trouble? Of course she didn’t know for sure where his SEAL team deployed, but she wasn’t a fool. There were plenty of terrorists and insurgents in the Middle East declaring war on the Western World. Plenty of drug cartels in Latin America smuggling their goods stateside. Plenty of bad guys everywhere.
“Is that who was texting you so much earlier?”
She looked up at him, surprised he’d noticed. “Sort of.”
“You didn’t seem too happy about it. Tell me what’s going on.”
“It was nothing I can’t handle,” she mumbled.
A group of drunk college guys came pouring out of a bar they passed, and Brent tugged her to his side, preventing one of them from accidentally knocking her over. She tensed up in surprise at the feel of Brent’s arm around her shoulders and his hard body against hers. Damn. The guy probably didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. And the solid weight of his arm around her felt way too good.
“Jackasses,” he grumbled. “Are you okay?” he asked, shooting them a glare over his shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” she added as an afterthought.
They walked a few more steps before Brent released her. She felt an immediate loss at the sudden lack of contact between them but shook her head, telling herself she was being foolish. This wasn’t even a date or something, just a friend giving her a ride home.
Right.
Like Brent had lots of female friends.
“I’m right over there,” he said, taking her hand as he tugged her across the street.
Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) Page 6
