Hot SEAL, Savannah Nights

by Kris Michaels

  "You sure this is okay?"

  Megan turned toward him. "Yes, of course. My boss is in New York. Besides, I'm entitled to a lunch hour." Not that she usually took one. Her norm was eating at her desk while she worked.

  "Good." Rio opened his bag and the delicious smell of fried food wafted across the small space that separated them.

  "So, what have you been up to?" She sat down and pulled the lid off her salad as Rio lifted fries out of his bag. He tipped the container offering her some of the greasy goodness. She smiled and shook her head, punching her fork through her lettuce without really looking at it.

  "I had a meeting with the trustee for my grandfather's estate." He stared at his massive hamburger and shook his head, then took a bite.

  "Did it not go well?" She shoved a forkful of zero calorie food into her mouth and watched him wipe at the grease from the triple-patty cheeseburger with one of the skinny white napkins from the take out place. She was once again taken back by the handsome man sitting not three feet from her.

  His whiskey colored eyes found hers. "Honestly, I'm not sure. I mean yes, I started the process of claiming what my grandfather left me, but honestly, when my brother catches wind of what my grandfather did, well, I think it could cause irreparable damage."

  "You said that things were strained now."

  He nodded and took another bite of his burger.

  "He has to know you had nothing to do with his decision. I mean you haven't been here for twelve years, right?" She stabbed another forkful of salad and munched on the veggies.

  "Stop thinking logically." He laughed and grabbed his huge plastic cup of soda and took a long draw on the straw.

  God, how did he make something so simple look so sexy? Once again, she felt her cheeks flame, which she was used to, but when her thoughts about him made the heat lick other regions of her body? She squirmed in her chair and found a sudden unquenchable interest in the shredded carrots interspersed between the baby spinach and arugula mixture.

  "Hey, I was joking, you know that, right?"

  "What?" Hit rewind, Meg. Oh. "Yeah, sure. I did."

  "Then where did you go just now? You looked upset." Rio ignored his meal and leaned closer to her. His aftershave, or was it his soap... regardless, the wonderful smell that was nothing but one hundred percent Rio engulfed her.

  "Upset?" Great she was a parrot now. No, that squeaked reply made her sound like a church mouse with the hiccups. If it were possible her cheeks flamed hotter. No, she wasn't upset, she was... horny? Oh, sweet stars in heaven, she was! Meg pushed her legs together and leaned forward which made her princess parts tingle even more.

  "Hey, are you okay?" Rio's hand on her knee acted like a divining rod and electricity jolted from his hand to her core.

  Her head was nodding. She was sure of it. But her eyes ping-ponged around the office, taking in everything except Rio. If she looked at him, it would be over. Words she shouldn't say would pour forth. Spew forth with a torrential velocity. Yeah, no, she was fine. Dandy. Wonderful. Excited. Hot. Achy. Shit, no, no.

  She felt him scoot closer and his fingers turned her chin. "Hey, what’s going on?" His words were whispered and meant for her alone.

  She glanced at the door and the hallway beyond. There was nobody there. She finally met his gaze. "You make me want things." Oh, dear celestial orbits, she'd said it. She dropped her eyes.

  "Things?" The low rumbled timber of his voice rolled over her in a warm wave of sensuality that wrapped around her.

  She nodded and licked her lips.

  "Things like this?"

  She sucked in a breath a split second before his lips met hers. His tongue swept her lips and she opened for him without regard to where they were or who might walk in.

  He pulled away and dropped his forehead to hers. "You make me want things, too."

  "Is that bad?" Please, please, don't let it be a bad thing. Her mind tumbled the phrase at about five billion revolutions per second.

  "No, but unfortunately we can't do anything about that here, now can we?" He dropped a chaste kiss on her lips and slid back to sit fully in the chair at the corner of her desk.

  Meghan drew a shaky breath. His whiskey-hewed eyes were hooded and smoldering as he looked at her.

  "I..." He dropped his uneaten hamburger and fries into his bag.

  Oh hell, he was leaving. She'd messed up. "You're leaving?" Church mouse meet hiccup.

  "I am, because if I stay, I'm going to take you into your boss’ office and do more than kiss you." He stood up, his crotch at eye level. Oh… oh! He wanted her, too. And if the stiff shaft pushing against the material of his jeans was any indication, he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.

  He extended his hand and she placed hers in his as she rose out of her office chair. "Thank you for coming today."

  "I haven't come yet… but you could fix that."

  Her eyes popped up to his. Cue fire engine red cheeks. "Ah..."

  "Can you meet me tonight?"

  She glanced at her calendar. "No, I have a video conference this afternoon, and I have to finish the timeline build on the new project before–"

  Rio dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Friday night then."

  "I have to meet Carl." Rio's entire body stiffened.

  Oh shit.

  "I promised my sister I would. I'm only going to apologize. I owe him that. I'll be home by eight." She blurted the words so quickly she wasn't sure if he understood her. Her hand clenched at the thin cotton of his shirt as if her grip could keep him from turning away if he wanted to move.

  "Carl is the obligation you had?"

  She nodded. "I... look I can't go into it here. Would you let me call tonight after I get home? I'll tell you everything, but I promise you the only reason I'm going is to keep the peace in my family. You understand that, right?" She stared up at him. His hand on her arm and one at her waist felt like a lifeline that anchored her to him. That was a feeling she didn't want to lose.

  "I can do that. I know you have your reasons, and I get that we are still new, but after your meeting, because there is no way in hell I'll call it a date, until we figure out this thing between us I want us to be exclusive. I want to see where it will go."

  The seriousness in his eyes made her shiver. Goose flesh rose on her arms. In this moment she could see the Rio that fought wars in distant countries. He was fierce, and it thrilled her.

  "I'd like that, and it isn't a date. I'm going to go apologize, and I'm going to leave."

  "Then let me take you."

  "No, this is something I need to do on my own. We are meeting in a public place, I'll be fine." She ran her hand up his arm. His muscles moved under her hand as he pulled her a bit closer.

  "You'll call me as soon as you leave on Friday?"

  "Promise and we'll meet at mine?"

  "That's a date."

  "Third date."

  "No, this today, this was our third date."

  "It was?"

  "Mmmm..." he dropped a kiss on her upturned lips. "Thank you for letting me stop by." He stepped back, his hands trailed away from her. She missed his presence against her immediately.

  "I'll call tonight after I get home, if it's not too late," she said as he turned to leave.

  He stopped at the door and turned back to her, dropping a wink in her direction. "I'll hold you to that."

  Meg dropped into the chair, her legs no longer supporting her. She whispered to herself, "Oh, please hold me to that, all day long."

  Chapter 13

  Rio rolled off his bed after spending an hour talking to Meghan. He forced himself to shut up and let her get some sleep. Strange how he could talk to her for hours and never run out of topics. They’d kept it light tonight, laughing and teasing until Rio noticed how late it was. He'd turned into a teenaged boy, but fuck him if he didn't feel like this was the first real relationship he'd had since he left Savannah twelve years ago.

  He took the backstairs to the kit
chen. Mavis had made sweet potato pie today, and he was going to get himself a slice before his dad ate it all. Loaded up with whip cream, that pie was calling his name. The kitchen lights shone brightly when he hit the landing. So much for beating his old man to the goods.

  "I hope you left me a slice." Rio laughed at the way his father jumped and used his body to shield his plate

  "Dammit, son, you scared me. I thought your mom had tracked me down. Get a fork and you can have what's left." His father pushed him the pie tin and pointed his fork at the remaining quarter.

  That was a no brainer. It took about a nanosecond to secure a fork. He ass-planted in his chair and grabbed the ice cold can of whipped topping. Half that sucker found its way to the top of the pie.

  "What are you doing up so late?"

  "Late?" Rio glanced at the clock. "I hate to tell you this, old man, but ten thirty isn't late in anyone's book."

  His father rolled his eyes because his mouth was stuffed full of the best sweet potato pie this side of the Mississippi. When he finally swallowed that mouthful of heaven, he replied, "You talk to Mr. Dobson?"

  "Today. Did you know about the division of shares?" Rio cut through the cloud of whip and forked up a delicious piece of nirvana for himself.

  "Yes." No eye contact and no further words. His dad inhaled another bite.

  "I feel like I'm being forced to walk the plank here, Dad, and Mason is circling in the waters below. Why did Pops put me in this position?" Rio cut another bite, but the rapture of the pie had taken a serious nose dive.

  His dad pushed away his uneaten portion. Well, shit was about to get serious, wasn't it? His dad leaned forward and pushed his fingertip over a crumb that had deserted the plate. He glanced up at Rio. "It was a matter of preservation as far as your grandfather was concerned. He knew that when I pass, you and your brother will receive an equal distribution of the shares."

  "Mr. Dobson said as much. What does that matter? I mean after Pops’ inheritance, I don't need anything. You could leave everything to Mason, and I wouldn't care. Besides, he has the business brain. I don't." Rio pushed his pie toward the center of the table, the uneaten forkful lying on the plate. His father shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat. Rio watched the tells. One thing the last twelve years had taught him was to trust in his gut. "Why is Mason having control of the company a bad thing?"

  His father glanced at the stairway and then deliberately leaned forward and whispered. "None of this can be said to another soul. Give me your word."

  "Of course." Rio agreed immediately.

  "Mason is not the problem. We demanded Mason require Deanne to sign a prenup, and we thought she had… but she hadn’t. She contested the signature immediately after the wedding. Seems the secretary at the law firm signed it for her. According to the woman, Deanne gave her a power of attorney to do so, but when asked to produce it, she couldn't. Your mother does not know. Pops did. He also respected the hell out of you. You walked away from what could have been a very soft lifestyle to fight for this country. That meant something to him, and to me. Deanne has designs on Mason's money. I don't think she's ever really loved him. They have separate suites in that huge house they have on Hilton Head. She's... she’s not good for Mason. He's worked his ass off for the company, but I think a lot of the time he spends at the office is done so he doesn't have to deal with her. Every time I've tried to broach the subject, I get shut down. I don't know how to help him."

  Rio leaned back and drew a steadying breath. "I didn't receive an invitation to the wedding or the engagement party. I assume Deanne was in charge of the invitations?"

  His dad nodded. "Probably."

  "The letter Mason wrote to me, she'd have been able to intercept it or if Mason had asked her to mail it, hide the fact she hadn’t.”

  "Again, yes. In all probability, she prevented you from receiving Mason’s letter in some way." His father leaned back and played with the corner of his napkin. "I can't let her get her hands on the company. If I have to, I'll change my will. I think she's got her claws into Mason for the money."

  "So, she won’t divorce him?"

  His father shrugged, "If she was to do that, she could only take half of what Pops gave Mason, which isn't anywhere close to what he gave you. Should they divorce, there is a large sum of money that will be paid to Mason to equal your cash distribution, but not until the divorce is final."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah. Mason doesn't know. It was a requirement of the will, so you can't say a word." His father leveled a stare at him.

  "Got it. Do you think he loves her?"

  "He did. Hell, he worshipped her, gave her everything she wanted. But... the last five years or so, I can see a difference. I think he's given up trying to make her love him, but I do believe he still loves her."

  "Fuck me."

  "Exactly. Your mom is a smart cookie. She knows something isn't right between them, but like I said, Mason shuts down, and Deanne acts like there is nothing wrong. You'll see when they come to dinner. It kills me. He is vanishing before my eyes. I feel so damn impotent."

  "Why do you think she isolated the two of us? What threat do I pose?"

  "You know her. You told me right before we put you on that plane to basic she was only after your money, that she didn't love you enough to follow you into the Navy. You called her shallow."

  Rio blinked, trying to remember the conversation. It barely registered as a memory. "What does that have to do with anything?"

  "Conjecture only? She didn't want you to influence Mason."

  "Influence? Hell, I knocked him unconscious. What influence would I have?" Rio groaned. "I know… he said he wrote a letter to me and told me that he forgave me and wanted to repair our relationship."

  "He told you that?"

  "Yeah, when I went to talk to him this past weekend. He said he asked me to be his best man." He dropped his head back between his shoulders and stared at the crown molding in the kitchen. "I never got the letter. I would have been here for him. He's my brother. I thought I'd ruined our relationship when I hit him. I... fuck it, I love him, and it killed me when I didn't get an invitation.”

  "I don't doubt that for a second."

  Rio swung his gaze to his father. "I wasn't there when he asked me, but I'm here now."

  "What are you planning on doing?" His father's eyebrows shot up. He'd obviously caught the aggression that rolled off him.

  "Do you really want to know, or do you want plausible deniability?" Rio asked.

  "I'm tired of being a witness to the destruction that woman causes." His father leaned forward. "What's the plan?"

  Rio sneered. "I'm thinking we need to bait a big hook and catch ourselves a shark."

  Chapter 14

  Meghan pulled into the parking lot of the pub where she was to meet Carl. Her hands were shaking. She glanced at the entrance to the bar and watched people for a minute as she practiced her apology again.

  She got out of her car and pulled her shirt down over her jeans. When N.R. was gone, the office observed casual Fridays. She pulled her hair out from under her purse strap and took another deep breath. She'd worn her favorite jeans to give her confidence, only the self-assurance she needed wasn't going to be found in the denim material.

  She made her way into the dark interior of the pub and waited next to the wall to allow her eyes adjust to the to dimly lit interior. She saw Carl almost immediately. He and three other men sat at a high table. Numerous empty beer mugs and almost as many empty shot glasses littered the table top. One of the men reached out and grabbed the waitress’ ass as she passed, and they all howled with laughter. Meghan's skin crawled, and she felt sick to her stomach. Her phone vibrated in her hand. She glanced down at the face. Her sister's name flashed across its screen. Yeah, she knew she had to do this. The bar was crowded. If she needed help, no doubt someone would step in. Right? Her eyes roved over the tough looking crowd. As her eyes swung back to the table, she froze like a deer in
the headlights of a car. Carl and his two friends were staring at her. Carl said something to make the other men laugh before he slid off the stool and headed her way.

  "Thinking of leaving me hanging again?" Carl's voice boomed across the distance, turning several heads.

  "Excuse me?" Meghan stepped backward and ran into the wall. Carl kept coming until he was right up against her.

  "Too good for me, huh? They told me you hooked up with some other guy that night." He reached up and ran his hand through her hair. Meghan jerked away and whapped her head on the wall.

  "I came to apologize." Her eyes shifted to the people who were nearby. None of them were paying attention to the two of them.

  "Good. Come have a drink with me. It’s the least you can fucking do."

  "I don't think..."

  "Do not tell me you were planning on showing up and then ditching me again? That's bullshit." He grabbed her arm and pushed her through the crowd to the table he'd vacated moments before.

  "Ouch, stop. That hurts." Megan tugged at her arm, but Carl's grip only tightened.

  "Guys, this is Mindy's sister."

  "No way. I've seen Mindy. She's hot. What the hell happened to you?"

  Meghan jerked her arm away from Carl. It was going to be bruised. She wrapped her arms around herself as Carl shouted a drink order across the room to the harried waitress that had been groped by the man across the table from her.

  "Hey, I asked you a question. You actually related to Mindy or you adopted?"

  Meghan stared at the man across the table. She wasn't going to answer him. She turned to Carl. "This is a mistake. I'm leaving."

  His hand grabbed at her arm again, but this time she wasn't going to let him get a hold of her. She jerked away, and her elbow hit him. The sudden movement jostled the beer in his hand, showering his front in a hops-brewed bath.

  He jerked sharply and threw his arm out, and the heavy glass mug clipped her cheek in a wicked blow. Meghan's head slammed back. She lost her balance and fell in an unchecked sprawl to the sticky floor of the bar. In an act of desperation, she reached out with the arm not holding her purse to try to break her fall. Her wrist bent at a painful angle and collapsed. Her hip, shoulder and side slammed into the cement floor. Her face throbbed and brilliant streaks of pain shot through her wrist. Dazed, she didn’t think she could muster the coordination to get up. She’d just stay on the floor for a bit.