A SEAL's Honor

by JM Stewart

  “That dating agency.” Mandy looked up then, flashed a please-don’t-be-mad grin, and clasped her hands together. “Steph’s excited about it…”

  Lauren’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, Mandy. How could you do that? You don’t know anything about this woman or this service.”

  “Actually, I do.” Mandy stepped over the threshold, grabbed Lauren’s wrist, and after closing the front door, pulled her into the living room. Once there, she took a seat on the sofa and patted the spot beside her. “I know I can be a little…impulsive, but I went to talk to the woman. She won’t let me sign you up officially until you come down to speak to her yourself. Laur, you’d like her. Turns out, Karen’s husband works with Trent at the bike shop. She’s really down to earth and sweet. She’s a great big romantic, but she’s strong minded, like you. She wants her clients to feel comfortable with their experience, whether it lasts or not.”

  Lauren dropped onto the sofa beside her. Okay, so she was impressed Mandy hadn’t rushed headlong into this, but she had enough experience with Mandy not to let her off the hook yet. “You should’ve consulted me first.”

  Mandy nudged her with an elbow. “Come on. You know you would’ve said no. Besides.” Mandy dropped back against the sofa cushions with a tired sigh. “Jennifer was so happy when she came into my office the other day. I mean glowing. So is Skylar. The expression on her face when she looks at Will? I’ve never seen him so calm or so happy. I want that. One guy who makes me feel feminine and beautiful, who isn’t turned off by the fact that I can take care of myself. Clearly I won’t find it on my own.”

  Lauren leaned back and lay her head against Mandy’s. “Me, either.”

  Mandy reached for her hand. “So do this with me. Us. Go talk to Karen and decide for yourself. You’re right, you know. You shouldn’t lose your virginity to some jerk you meet in a bar. Or in the back of a Toyota like I did.”

  Lauren blew out a heavy breath. “Fine. I’ll talk to Karen, but that’s all I’m promising you for now.”

  Mandy was right about one thing: since Mary’s death, she’d been thinking about pushing herself beyond her comfort zone.

  Mandy threw her arms around Lauren’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “You won’t regret it, Laur, I promise.”

  Lauren laughed softly. “I sincerely hope not.”

  * * *

  Lying in the darkness of her bedroom, Lauren stared at the shadowy ceiling above her. A glance at the clock told her it was just past nine. She needed to be sleeping. After all, she had to be up at three, so she could be at the bakery by four. But no matter how many times she closed her eyes, sleep wouldn’t come.

  All because she’d gone over to see Trent tonight. Steph’s casual mention of him two nights ago had inspired the worry.

  For the longest time after he’d come home, Trent’s PTSD had meant he’d barely left his apartment, even to fill his fridge. It’s what had worried his family so much and why she’d taken to going over to see him on a regular basis. She’d wanted to help. A decision to bring him food one night had launched a thousand arguments and a thousand conversations.

  Over the last year, he’d become a friend. She’d gone over to check on him one night after work, nine months ago now. Bringing him meals he could keep in the fridge and heat up later had always just been an excuse. She’d expected him to be his usual grumpy self, that he’d glare at her and tell her to leave. It’s what he always did. She’d barge into his apartment—because she’d been instructed not to take no for an answer—and he’d follow her around as she made him a meal or cleaned and complain about her “invading his damn house.”

  This particular time, though, he’d actually invited her to stay. Ever since, it had become a tradition. Once or twice a week, she’d take him a meal or two, and he’d invite her to have dinner with him.

  So it had been when she’d gone to see him after work today. They’d sat and chatted about their days while chowing down on the lasagna and garlic bread she’d brought over.

  Now, hours later, she couldn’t sleep because she couldn’t stop seeing his smile. Being a serious man, he didn’t smile often, but when he did, he was downright magnificent. It transformed his whole face. Harsh, cut features softened, and his cobalt-blue eyes lit up like the sun.

  God, she swore she’d gotten over her crush on him in high school. After all, he’d gotten married and had gone overseas, and she’d grown up and moved on. But since he’d come home, those scintillating feelings had begun to sneak up on her again. Except Trent was now divorced. Single. And that solitary fact teased her senses. Her body didn’t seem to care that he tended to treat her like she was another sister. That he didn’t seem to see her as a woman.

  No, she always came away from time with him more aroused than she knew what to do with. Trent was every woman’s dream. Polite. Charming. Funny. A hard worker. And it all came in a rock-hard package. God help her, he’d become her naughty little secret.

  Even now the addicting rumble of his laugh echoed through her mind, shivering down her spine and landing straight in her panties. He’d teased her about her need to clean whenever she came over. It had started as an excuse to stay, to force him to interact, but had long since become a nervous habit.

  Tonight he’d bumped her shoulder and laughed, and that one simple contact lit her body on fire. Because lately she couldn’t help imagining what that hard body of his would feel like pressed against hers.

  Giving in to the pull, she closed her eyes and slipped her hand inside her panties. Already hot and wet, a single glide over her swollen clit sent a heated shiver running through her. Her breathing hitched as her mind filled with the now familiar fantasy. Her favorite. The heat of his body against hers. His hot mouth skimming her neck, her shoulder, her ear. Teasing her sensitive skin. He’d slip those wonderfully long, warm fingers into her panties, massage her aching clit.

  It was so real, she swore she could feel the hot huff of his breath in her ear. The calluses on the tips of his fingers. All too quickly, the luscious, achy pressure built. Heat prickled along her skin, and her inner muscles began a rhythmic squeezing, tightening and loosening. She rocked her hips into her hand, all the while imagining her fingers were his. Massaging. Circling. Driving her out of her mind with their ability to send her careening toward bliss at breakneck speed.

  It didn’t take long. Just the thought of him had made her so hot a few flicks over her engorged clit pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm tore through her, a luscious, hot bubble that burst inside of her. She massaged through every blinding pulse, determined to make it last as long as possible.

  When the luscious spasms finally subsided, she collapsed back onto the bed and opened her eyes, lying there a moment, limbs deliciously heavy, while attempting to regain control over her breathing. The shadowy ceiling came back into focus, and the quietness of the house seeped around her.

  The unbearable loneliness crept up right behind it. The way it always did. The one thing missing in this scenario was the warm, masculine body against her side. She longed for the pleasure to have been shared and for strong arms to hold her while she slept, and their lack left an emptiness deep inside.

  Now, staring up at her ceiling, all she could see were the similarities between her and Mary. Mary had been a sweet woman with a heart of gold. She’d given Lauren a good life and had made her feel loved. But Mary had never been willing to take risks, had never put herself out there. And then she’d died alone, never having found her true love. What if Lauren ended up the same way?

  Determination expanded inside of her. She pulled her hand from her panties and moved into the attached bathroom. After relieving herself and washing her hands, she strode down the hallway and into the kitchen. There on the counter sat the notepad she wrote her grocery list down on. She pulled it close, grabbed the pen beside it, and started making a list of all the things she’d never done but had always wanted to.

  1: Lose my virginity

  She paused, frowning down at
the pad. Accomplishing number one would require finding the guy first, though.

  Her conversation with Mandy two evenings ago came flooding back.

  Go talk to Karen and decide for yourself, she’d said. You shouldn’t lose your virginity to some jerk you meet in a bar.

  Mandy was right. If she really wanted to lose her virginity, she needed to put herself out there.

  She turned back to her list, making another note.

  2: Call Karen at Military Match.

  * * *

  Lauren eyed her image again in the full-length mirror beside her dresser. A week had passed since she’d made the decision to call Karen at Military Match. Tonight was her first date. Turned out Mandy was right. Talking to Karen had all but made the decision to sign up easy. The woman had impressed her. Karen had a firm vision for her business, one with her clients’ needs at heart.

  Over the last week, as she’d waited for tonight to arrive, she’d also added a few more things to her list. She wanted to make out with a guy in public, and she wanted to get drunk. Just once. After all, wasn’t that what college kids did? She hadn’t, and she wanted to know what it felt like.

  She’d also made a decision about tonight’s date. She had every intention of checking off a few items from that list, and if she was doing this, then she was going all in. Tonight she was going to seduce her date. Have a hot fling for the first time in her life with a decent guy.

  She’d need help, though. She hadn’t a clue what to wear, and she was so nervous she couldn’t stand herself. So she’d called Mandy and Steph for help. She’d planned her entire day so that she wouldn’t have to worry later. She’d gone to the bakery extra early this morning to make certain all their orders were filled and the shop’s shelves were packed. She’d left Lauren’s Chocolates and Pastries an hour earlier than usual, so she’d have extra time to fret over what on earth to wear.

  When she got home, Steph and Mandy waited on the porch, arms loaded. God bless her best friends.

  Now, an hour later, Mandy had taken care of her hair and makeup. Steph had brought over the wardrobe. Mandy, at least, hadn’t gone over the edge. She’d dolled up her usual perfunctory makeup and forced her to take her hair out of the ponytail she usually kept it in.

  Steph, however, had gone completely crazy. Tonight’s outfit was something Lauren wouldn’t normally have been caught dead in. The zebra-striped blouse Steph had chosen lay open down to the button between her breasts. The V of the thin black sweater overtop was cut almost to her belly button. The black jeans at least she was comfortable with, but they were tighter than she would have preferred.

  She turned to frown at Steph in the glass’s reflection. “Are you sure this is the right look for tonight?”

  “You’re just lucky I decided to let you wear jeans and not that skirt I brought over.” At Lauren’s frown, Steph looked up, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “You want to get laid, right?”

  “Yes, but…” Lauren eyed her reflection again. As a divorce attorney for a local firm, Steph was the more adventurous and confident of their trio. She had no qualms about wearing something formfitting and low cut, and she had the perfect hourglass figure to pull it off. Lauren, however, had always been tall and gangly and just this side of awkward. She’d never worn something so risqué.

  “Uh-uh. No buts.” Steph frowned in admonishment. “If you want to get laid, babe, you’re going to have to leave behind your schoolmarm wardrobe. I still think you should’ve gone with that skirt instead of these jeans. Show a little cleavage and a little thigh and he’ll be following you around like a lost puppy.”

  “We’re just meeting for coffee. It’s not like we’re going to a club or anything. That skirt was way overdone.” And too damn short for her tastes. “You realize I’m going to break my ankle in these heels, right?”

  The heels were gorgeous, and they did make her legs look awesome. She felt sexy. Her and heels, though, had never gotten along well. More than likely she’d trip over the sidewalk and fall flat on her face. As usual.

  “Well, you look smokin’ hot.” With one last small adjustment to the thick brown leather belt around Lauren’s waist, Steph smiled in satisfaction. “You’ve got a great body, hon. You just need to learn how to show it off.”

  And that right there was the flaw in her little plan. She wasn’t comfortable baring her assets to the world the way Steph was. She had too many memories of watching her mother get dressed for one of her dates. She eyed her reflection again and sighed. But wasn’t stepping out of her comfort zone the whole idea of this?

  Mandy appeared beside her in the mirror and looped an arm around her shoulders. “He won’t know what hit him.”

  Knowing that, however, did nothing for the nauseated sensation swirling in her stomach. She had one too many memories of guys promising to call but never actually doing it. If she didn’t hurl on her date’s shoes or fall flat on her face, it would be a miracle.

  * * *

  Trent Lawson paced the sidewalk along the windows of the Starbucks. He scanned the street around him as he walked, his heart hammering from the vicinity of his throat. For the first time in almost twelve years he had a date.

  This wasn’t where he’d seen himself the day he married his now ex-wife. Wasn’t where he’d seen himself when he’d come home eighteen months ago with his shoulder blown out, his leg in pieces, and his mind scattered to the wind, either. Hell, he still wasn’t a hundred percent. He was still healing, still getting a handle on his PTSD, and his triggers were everywhere. Just last week the pop of a child’s toy gun had sent him into a tailspin. He’d hit the ground before realizing it wasn’t real. He still woke most nights covered in sweat from nightmares about the brutal things he’d seen overseas.

  How the hell could he support someone emotionally when he was still drowning himself? But he missed the warm body beside him in bed at night. So here he was, standing in front of a coffee shop, divorced and waiting on a woman whose name and face he didn’t know.

  That was supposed to be fun part of the dating service he’d signed up with a month ago. He’d gotten the name of the place from one of the guys he worked with. Gabe Donovan and Marcus Denali co-owned the custom bike shop where he worked. Fellow SEALs, the guys had become his good friends since he started there six months ago. Who else but a fellow vet could possibly understand his aversion to large crowds and loud noises?

  Gabe and Marcus had a firm business rule: they only hired vets. A month ago Gabe hired Mike. Mike was army, and his wife, Karen, owned the premier matchmaking service Military Match. Which was how he’d come to find himself here. Mike could talk the Pope into going to a strip joint and had convinced Trent to give Military Match a try.

  When he’d woken in the hospital a year and a half ago, he’d promised himself he’d do everything the guys who died that day in the desert couldn’t—he’d live his life. He wanted…Hell, he didn’t even know. To date. To go out and have a little fun. Getting laid might be nice.

  Everything he currently wasn’t doing, which was why he’d signed up with Military Match. It went a long way that the place had a good reputation. They took care of the arrangements, and you simply showed up. And it was only coffee. Not drinks or a big, fancy dinner, so there was no pressure. It still meant he had a blind date, though.

  He dragged a frustrated hand through his hair and turned to scan another direction. He was supposed to be keeping an eye out for a brunette wearing blue. The problem was, a dozen brunettes had passed him since he’d arrived ten minutes ago. On top of that, it being a spring evening in Seattle, it was barely fifty degrees out and, of course, drizzling. How was he supposed to see what she wore when everyone passing him all wore coats and hats? Unless his date showed up wearing a freakin’ sign on her chest, he hadn’t a clue how he’d recognize her.

  She could be any one of the women seated at the café’s outdoor tables.

  Hell. He’d no doubt keel over before she ever got here.

  He turned aga
in to pace the other direction when a sight stopped him cold. Twenty feet away, a woman stood at the other end of the building. Hands tucked in the pockets of her black coat, she seemed to be waiting. Her head moved as if she scanned the crowd around her. Although he only had the back view of her, he’d long since learned to recognize the slender length of her body.

  It was the curve of her tight little ass, however, that sealed the deal. He’d spent the last year trying not to notice how incredible that ass looked in a pair of worn jeans. Never mind that the ones she was wearing right now were fitted to her body, showcasing incredible curves.

  Lauren Hayes. His heart hammered as his gaze zeroed in on the peacock-blue scarf peeking out from beneath the collar of her coat. Like a neon freakin’ sign, it shouted at him.

  Shit. If she was his date tonight, he was screwed. Lauren was his baby sister’s best friend, not to mention she was ten years his junior. That made her strictly off-limits. He’d known her long enough to watch her go from a gawky preteen into a beautiful woman. He hadn’t noticed exactly how beautiful until after he’d come home. After she’d spent hours at his place, cooking for him, helping him clean…and forcing him to get up and live.

  God. What the hell would Mandy say if she found out he had the hots for her best friend? Hell, who was he kidding? She’d probably be happy he was at least dating someone. Not that he intended to give in to his attraction. She was still off-limits as far as he was concerned, which meant whatever he felt for her would be quashed.

  Telling himself that didn’t stop his gaze from caressing the curve of her ass again, though. Or his cock from leaping in his jeans, reminding him how long it had been since he’d last had sex. Not quite two years. He and Wendy had made love the night before his last deployment. Six months later he’d gotten her Dear John letter, telling him she’d fallen in love with someone else and she was leaving him. The price of being married to a Navy SEAL who was often gone for ten months at a time had been too high for her. He’d come home in pieces to divorce papers waiting for him.