A SEAL's Strength (Military Match Book 2)

by JM Stewart

  Gabe swallowed a miserable groan. She had to ask that. After their parents died, he and Molly had come to rely on each other. There really wasn’t anything they couldn’t talk about. The first time she’d contemplated having sex, they’d had an open and frank discussion about it. When he had a big decision to make, he usually ran it by her first.

  But this wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. He was trying not to think about Steph. Or look forward to seeing her tonight. Tonight was Trent and Lauren’s engagement party. He knew damn well Steph would be there, and damned if that didn’t have every drop of blood in his body on a low boil. Even though he knew he shouldn’t be, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about anything.

  “I’ve been pretty busy.” Hoping she’d give up, he gave a noncommittal shrug and reached for another plate from the sink in front of him, slotting it into the dishwasher.

  Never one to be deterred, however, Molly set the now rinsed plate into the left half of the divided sink and nudged him with an elbow. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you avoided me after she left on Sunday. Inquiring minds want to know. Do you plan to see her again?”

  Gabe sighed. So much for getting her to leave it alone. “She’s just an old friend.”

  “Right. And I’m Abe Lincoln.” Molly set the last dish into the second sink, then shut off the water and picked up a small towel, turning to him as she dried her hands. “You want to see her again. Admit it.”

  He set the last plate into the dishwasher, then reached beneath the sink for the soap and filled the dispenser, using the chore as excuse not to face Molly’s fishing expedition. “It was a temporary thing.”

  Molly quirked a brow. “And now?”

  Just that fast, the memories flooded over him. Standing with Steph, here in the kitchen. The glint in her eyes when she’d smeared that frosting across his lips. The addicting rush of her kiss.

  Along with it came a confusion he didn’t know what to do with. Every time he passed Julia’s picture on the dresser, guilt formed a hard knot in his gut. No matter how he tried to convince himself he’d needed that weekend, it still felt like he’d cheated on his wife.

  Exactly why he was trying not to think about Steph. And here was Molly, bringing it all back up.

  He leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “Fine. You really want to know? I’d forgotten what it’s like not to have to sleep alone. That’s the part I hate the most, having to crawl into bed alone at night. And the sex?” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hell. Sex with an actual woman is never a bad thing.”

  For a couple of days, he’d forgotten the pain and monotony his life had become. Steph had made him forget, and she’d made him feel alive again. But that she’d actually stayed Sunday morning to help ease a difficult situation had been the nail in his proverbial coffin. She didn’t have to do that. Not everybody would have. Despite her emphatic protest about boundaries, she’d stayed, because deep down she had a good heart. That made her…irresistible.

  Molly laughed and shook her head. “Honestly, Gabe. Need to know.”

  Gabe chuckled and bumped her shoulder. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, then, Miss Nosy.”

  Molly sobered, softness and gentle understanding moving over her features. “So why don’t you want to see her again?”

  He blew out a defeated breath and shook his head. “I’ve been asking myself that damn question all week. I have an entire list of reasons why, the top of which is that Steph wants something long-term and I can’t give it to her. Not yet. And I think she deserves more. I hurt her enough in the past. But I won’t deny that I’d kill to see her again.”

  Molly studied him for a long moment, as if weighing a decision. As if searching for something within him. Whatever it was, seconds later she seemed to arrive at her conclusion because she straightened off the counter and faced him. She laid a hand against his shoulder. “Far be it from me to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong…”

  He laughed. “Hasn’t ever stopped you before.”

  She narrowed her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. She clearly likes you, and—”

  “I should hope so.”

  Molly rolled her eyes. “Would you let me finish a sentence, please?”

  He rolled his eyes right back at her and waved a hand in her direction. “Fine. Go ahead. Lecture me.”

  Molly punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Spend time with her. Enjoy her. Even Char seems to like her.”

  Exactly what he’d hoped she wouldn’t suggest. The hard part was, he hadn’t a damn clue what the answer was.

  “I can’t promise her forever, or anything like it, and I won’t use her that way. She was a friend once, and she hasn’t had it easy either. She deserves better.” He refused to treat her the way the rest of the men in her life had, but if he gave in to the lure of her, that’s all he would be. Just another asshole on her list. Hell. He already was.

  Molly pinned him with a direct, probing stare. “Did she ask you for forever?”

  “No. It was for the weekend only, and it was her idea.”

  “Then stop overthinking this and run with it.” Molly rubbed a hand over his shoulder. “Julia’s death was hard, I know. It came at an awful time. You were still struggling with the loss of your leg, and it was a shock to you and Char both, but Julia would want you to move on, and you know it. So I’m going to tell you the same thing I told you after you lost your leg. I love you, Gabe, but it’s time to get up and learn to walk again.”

  She kissed his cheek, then moved out of the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway toward Char’s room.

  He was getting a lecture on his love life from his baby sister. It used to be the other way around. The worst part was, she was right. Goddamn it.

  * * *

  Gabe turned his head, scanning the yard around him. Trent and Lauren’s engagement party turned out to be small and intimate, less than fifty people or so, mostly family and close friends, but Trent’s parents had gone all out. A live local band played what sounded like jazz. Across the lawn a buffet table and a makeshift bar had been set up. He and the guys were seated around a small table in the backyard. Trent, Marcus, and Mike were discussing their latest project at the shop.

  Gabe couldn’t concentrate worth a damn. Steph had been in his peripheral all evening. No matter how much he tried to stay focused on the guys’ conversation, his gaze invariably ended up back on her. She, Lauren, and Mandy, along with half a dozen others, were currently out in the designated dance space, set up beyond the band, chatting and watching them play.

  He couldn’t stop soaking her in. She looked phenomenal. Her long dress skimmed her curves and fell to her ankles, sexy without revealing anything. She didn’t appear to have panty lines, and the thought that she might not be wearing any panties made his cock ache.

  The music changed, moving from upbeat to soft, slow strains that brought to mind making love.

  “That’s my cue, gentlemen. Maybe a whirl around the dance floor with my girl will help get rid of this damn headache.” Trent pushed out of his seat, giving them a two-fingered salute before making his way toward the crowd.

  Out on the dance floor, couples paired off. Steph turned and made her way to the buffet table. There, she picked up a flute of champagne and stood watching the couples with an almost wistful expression.

  Marcus nudged Gabe’s elbow, jerking him from his perusal. “Man, if you don’t go ask her to dance, I’m going to. A woman that beautiful should not have to watch from the sidelines.”

  Marcus had a point, of course. Not once in the last two hours had he stopped thinking about Molly’s suggestion. Being in the same space with Steph provided a temptation he only just managed to resist. But he still had no desire to use her as his stepping-stone. Dating was one thing. Steph was entirely another.

  He shook his head. He’d just make an ass of himself. “I couldn’
t find a groove if you handed me one.”

  Marcus pushed to his feet, making clucking noises under his breath as he walked toward the buffet table. Steph faced him as he came to a stop beside her. He extended his left hand, which she accepted with a gentle smile and a nod, and he led her toward the couples already gathered.

  It wasn’t until Marcus pulled her close that the green-eyed monster finally made its appearance. He knew damn well Marcus was goading him. As he swayed her around in a circle, Marcus pulled her a little too close, tossing Gabe an arrogant wink over her shoulder as he settled his grubby paws on her lower back. Just above her ass.

  Gabe rolled his eyes but pushed to his feet and made his way in their direction. Steph could do worse than Marcus, but the sight of her in someone else’s arms rubbed his nerves raw. Besides. It was just dancing. He could dance with a friend. Right?

  As he came up behind Steph, Marcus grinned. Ear to fucking ear.

  Gabe tried for a glare, but damned if he could keep the corners of his mouth from twitching as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You’re a cocky son of a bitch, Denali. Beat it, would you?”

  Steph turned sideways to look at him. Heat flared in her eyes, fueling the fire burning in his belly. Just that fast his cock thickened, pressing almost painfully against his zipper. Great. Now he had a hard-on, and he couldn’t even adjust the damn thing or he’d draw attention to it.

  Grinning in triumph now, Marcus had the audacity to wink as he moved around Steph, heading for the tables again. “Knew that’d get your cowardly ass over here.”

  Gabe shot Marcus another glare before turning to Steph. He offered a smile and held out his hand. “Care to dance?”

  Steph nodded. “I’d love to.”

  He gripped her waist, tugging her close, and she settled her palms against his pecs. For several beats, only the soft strains of the music filled the space between them. Not once did she look away, and all too soon he lost every thought in his head in her. Her breasts pushed into his chest. Her thighs brushed his as they moved, her lean stomach brushing the front placket of his jeans. His cock hardened to painful proportions, though if she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

  After a few beats, she smiled. “Why didn’t you just come ask me yourself?”

  His gut tightened. “Because I wasn’t planning to ask. I—”

  She stiffened in his arms. Hurt flared in her eyes, and she braced her hands against his chest and shoved. “Don’t do me any favors, Gabe.”

  His heart hammered like a runaway freight train. Great, he’d offended her. Way to go, dumbass.

  He tightened his grip on her and pulled her back, though she didn’t relax in his embrace. “Let me finish. We agreed on a weekend. We’re only here together by accident. Because we have the same friends. Besides. I didn’t want to intrude. But then I saw you with Marcus, and I couldn’t help myself.”

  When the tension finally eased in her body, Gabe allowed himself to breathe again.

  Steph shook her head. “How the hell did I miss that you were so damn close all this time?”

  One corner of his mouth twitched. He’d asked himself that same question at least a thousand times over the last week. “Damned if I know. Must’ve been fate.”

  She gave a playful roll of her eyes. “Tell me you don’t believe in fate.”

  He lifted a brow. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

  Steph’s gaze danced over his face, though she remained silent, and several tension-filled seconds passed. Clearly she searched for something, but what? Scratch that. He didn’t want to know.

  Seeming to find what she looked for, she shifted closer, slid her hands around his rib cage and up his back, and rested her cheek against his chest. Unable to resist the pull of her, he wrapped his arms around her in return, rested his cheek against the top of her head, and let himself have the moment. Just being in her presence soothed the lonely ache deep inside. Maybe if he was lucky, tonight he’d actually sleep.

  It wasn’t long before everything else around him faded as he slowly lost himself in her. Her soft, feminine scent curled around his senses, the warmth of her body pulling him in until there wasn’t anything left but her.

  “Gabe?”

  Her voice drifted into the miniscule space between them barely above a whisper, half murmured into his chest. There was a sleepy edge to it that suggested she was as lost as he was. God help them both.

  “Yeah?”

  “I wouldn’t have minded if you’d intruded.”

  He stifled a groan and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her temple. She’d had to go and say that. “You’re killing me, babe. You look good in that dress, you know.”

  “Just good?”

  The subtle tease in her voice pulled a chuckle out of him.

  “I’m pretty sure you know exactly how good I think you look.” He turned his mouth to her ear and lowered his voice so only she would hear him. He shouldn’t keep this line of questioning going, but neither could he resist her. “I’ve been hard since I got here.”

  Steph lifted her head, stared for a beat, then leaned her head beside his ear. Her lips moved against the lobe, her warm breath whispering over the skin of his neck. “Then I suppose it wouldn’t be good to mention that you in those jeans is enough to make me wet.”

  He swallowed a groan. Damned if he could resist that either, which she no doubt knew. “Your panties, you mean?”

  Mischief glinted in her eyes as she pulled back. “Who says I’m wearing any?”

  His cock twitched. The little minx. “Keep it up, sweetheart.”

  She looked down, swirled her finger over his chest. “Or?”

  Or he’d do something he’d regret. Like pull her into the house, find a secluded room, and hike that dress above her waist.

  He clenched his jaw. Every muscle in his body tensed, and his jeans were attempting to strangle him. If he didn’t change the subject and soon, he was going to do all of that and then some. “You’re in fine form tonight, Steph. Are you drunk?”

  Steph let out a breathless laugh. “No. Just having fun. My best friend is getting married. How can you not get caught up in the excitement? Look at them.”

  She nodded off to her left, and he followed her gaze. Lauren and Trent were wrapped around each other like vines, swaying like the lovers they were to the gentle strains of the song. Gabe’s chest tightened. God, he missed that.

  Determined not to let the grief suck him under, he turned back to Steph, forcing his mind to focus on the conversation. “Because you want something permanent.”

  She shrugged, her gaze still on Lauren and Trent. “I gave up trying to find it for a while, but seeing them made me want it again. What they have is rare. Not everybody gets a happily ever after, and I’m still not sure I’ll find it, but I want it all same.”

  Gabe clenched his jaw as irritation prickled along his skin. He knew from the things she’d told him that someone had hurt her, and he had the sudden desire to break the guy’s jaw. That she’d given up on love entirely made his chest ache as well. She deserved what Lauren and Trent had found. “Maybe you were just dating the wrong kinds of men.”

  “Maybe.”

  He wanted to ask what she meant by that, but the music changed. The couples around them dispersed, bodies picking up the new, livelier beat. They both stopped moving, but neither one let go. He wasn’t sure he could.

  Steph studied him, eyes searching and vulnerable. After a moment she gave him a tender smile and stepped back. “Thanks for the dance.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to respond, but turned and walked off toward the house, her gait slow but steady. For a moment he could only watch her go. He wanted a million different things right then. To drag her into a dark corner and bury himself in her velvet heat. To get lost in the heady press of her warm skin and those phenomenal sounds she made in the throes of an orgasm.

  But mostly? He wanted the bliss. Just being near her had made the crowd disappear for a while. Along with the
last three years and the empty ache he’d carried around for so long he feared it would be there forever.

  There was just her. Wherever the hell their relationship led him, he wanted to follow it. The question was, could he let himself?

  As she disappeared into the house, his answer came every bit as easily as the question. He could. He had to take this step at some point, release the guilt over Char and Julia and date someone for real, have something more than a weekend fling. Who better to do it with than Steph? Someone who knew him, in all his brokenness and idiosyncrasies.

  Could he do it without hurting her, though? He didn’t know. All he did know was that for the first time since Julia’s death, he didn’t feel so…broken. What harm could come from extending their time together? Enjoying each other in the here and now and simply…seeing where it went?

  Now he just had to convince her that they could be good for each other.

  Chapter Nine

  Steph opened a cabinet in search of a glass. A row of clear tumblers sat neatly on the shelf, and she pulled one down, filling it from the tap. She wasn’t really thirsty, but she needed a moment to collect herself. Her mind was running on overtime. Like eleven years ago, her heart wanted to get hung up on Gabe. He was a good guy, but he’d still broken her heart. Simply being in the same space with him had all those emotions she didn’t want to deal with rising to the surface all over again. The unbelievable need. The yearning to be closer to him in all possible ways.

  If she wanted a real relationship, she’d have to learn to let someone in again. She just didn’t know if she could do it with him. No matter how much she regretted not telling him how she felt.

  The sliding glass doors opened behind her, and the noise from the backyard rushed in, then closed out again. Steph took a sip of the water, letting it cool her parched throat, and turned her head to see who’d followed her inside.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Gabe made his way in her direction, his brow set in determination. Hands beginning to shake, she turned to the small window over the sink and sipped at her water. Her ears homed in on the sound of his footsteps as he crossed the kitchen.