SEAL's Kiss: A Small Town Bad Boy Romance

by Vivian Wood

  “Yeah? It’s good to have help.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know where I would find someone, though. It’s not like this town has a huge internet presence or anything. That’s the only way I’ve ever found a job, back in college.”

  “What was your job?”

  “In college? I was a hostess at a restaurant. I was pretty bad at it.”

  “I can imagine that not liking being touched didn’t go over well there.”

  She blushed. She wished she could tell him it was before… but she couldn’t. She had only told three people about the rape, including Shelby. But she wanted people to understand there was a reason she was like she was.

  She glanced at him, aware that her silence was getting too long. She couldn’t tell him, not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  “So do you have any ideas for where I should post the job?” she said, switching back to a more neutral topic.

  “Sure,” he said. “The diner would be a good place. I think they have a community board, like you can pin up services and jobs and community events.”

  The land started to slope down before them, and Rose got a better view of the property. Three long row houses appeared, which she assumed were part of the dude ranch.

  “I haven’t been in there yet. Is the food good?”

  “They make really good omelettes. And pancakes, according to Shiloh.”

  She smiled, picturing Shiloh eating a stack of pancakes. “I’ll have to stop in sometime.”

  He smiled, then inclined his head to indicate the horses.

  “You feel like going a little faster?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said, kicking his horse into a loping gallop.

  Rose followed suit, edging her horse along until she matched her gait to his. The cantering was very physical; she’d forgotten that just holding on could be so exerting.

  At the same time, she couldn’t help but let her eyes stray to admire Colt’s impressive physique. Again, she was reminded of how much he must ride to get those sorts of muscles. She could see the definition in his forearms, which made her feel weak in the knees.

  He also rode with an abandon that she longed for, wished she could find in any aspect of her life. He seemed to give himself over to the ride, to become fluid.

  When am I ever fluid? she wondered.

  She was almost sad when the land started to drop steeply, bringing their ride to a trot. Down below, the river dominated everything, the sound of it growing louder as they got lower.

  “Is that Catahoula Creek?” she asked, nodding at the river.

  “It is. I grew up playing in that river, albeit downstream. In an area that was flatter,” he explained.

  “I grew up near a creek,” she said absently.

  “Let’s ride back toward the house,” he said after a few moments of staring at the river. “Those clouds over there look like rain-bringers.”

  She looked. Indeed, the clouds were heavy and dark as cold gray steel. The storm was a bit to the west of them, but steadily creeping in their direction.

  “Yeah, I guess we want to get in before that hits.”

  They both kicked their horses back into canters, but Rose felt the pitter-patter of raindrops well before they got to the barn. The skies opened on them as they raced to the barn, laughing and breathless with the hurry of it.

  When she finally got inside, Rose pulled a face.

  “I think I’m going to need help down,” she said.

  He dismounted quickly, leading his horse over to its stall, before coming back for her. He held his arms up expectantly, and she tried not to blush as she slid into them like they were made for holding her; tried not to blush twice as hard when the moment went on too long.

  She opened her mouth, ready to say something…

  He stepped back, avoiding her eyes. “Sorry.”

  Colt turned around and led her horse to its stall, pulling the saddle and blanket off and taking them to the tack room.

  “I’ll groom my horse,” she called after him.

  He returned shortly, handing her a curry brush and giving her a tight smile. “Okay.”

  He quickly moved off to unsaddle his own horse, as if needing space from her. Rose ran the brush idly over her horse’s withers, then over the back and croup.

  She glanced at Colt distractedly a couple of times while she was rubbing down the horse, wondering at his attitude. Was this what he meant when he said they’d be friends?

  When they were finished, they sat by the open barn door, on some square hay bales left there to dry out. Silence stretched between them at they stared outside.

  “The rain is pretty serious,” he said, peering out into the rain-darkened sky.

  “Yeah. I’m not sure how long it will go,” she said, shivering. She was wet from the rain, and now that she wasn’t riding, she was getting cold.

  He pinned her with a look.

  “We should go, even though it’s still raining. I’m sure you have things to do.”

  She wrinkled her nose, but shrugged. “Sure.”

  Rose stood, brushing straw off her legs.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, facing her. A shaft of light from inside the barn slanted across his face, illuminating his dark eyes so she could see them clearly.

  “Hazel,” she said.

  “What?” He squinted at her, confused.

  “Your eyes. I just realized that they’re…” she stopped, realizing she sounded like a weirdo. “Um, yeah. That sounds good.”

  “Do you want me to go get an umbrella for you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. See you later.”

  And with that, she plunged into the thunderstorm, headfirst. She raced to her car as fast as she could, climbing in and turning on the heat.

  She looked behind her. Colt stood in the pouring rain, watching her.

  Making sure she was safe.

  She bit her lip, then turned the car around. By the time that she pulled out of the driveway, Colt was gone.

  As she drove home, the rain slowed, but her heart still beat fast.

  16

  Colt woke early, longing.

  He’d dreamt that he’d had Rose, that they were naked together in his bed, him on top. That he moved with perfect timing, thrusting in a way that made her moan.

  That her hands clawed his back, her core fluttering in the way that told him she was about to come. The look of ecstasy on her face as she writhed beneath him, desperate…

  And then he woke up.

  Hard as fucking steel, he put a pillow over his face and shouted his frustrations into it.

  He’d masturbated last night… twice. Just to settle down enough to sleep, he’d needed to think of her riding him, of him fucking her until she called out his name over and over.

  And the second time just the same, but slower.

  It was like she was an enchantress, working her magic on him. Except her spell was just being herself, no matter how awkward.

  He got up and took an icy shower, which managed to dampen his libido enough that he could comfortably put on pants. He dressed quickly, cursing the fact he had to go help her today.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, it was all the other things his traitorous body wanted to do that made him miserable.

  If he was ever going to have a chance in hell of having Rose, she was going to have to come to him. She was going to have to desire him, say that she wanted him.

  Otherwise… a few more days of free labor, and he was done.

  He was in a sour mood all the way to Rose’s. His missing foot ached and tingled, like a phantom limb. He kept tapping it against the truck’s brakes, the sensation the only way he could remember that his foot was gone.

  When he got to the clinic, Rose was already there. She turned and smiled when she saw him. “Hey.”

  He wanted to pull his current mood around himself like a thick blanket, hide in it, but it wasn’t her fault. Or m
ostly not, anyway.

  Plus, there was the fact that she was wearing a pair of very short denim shorts. Probably borrowed from Shelby, they showcased her legs in a mile-long stretch of suntanned skin. It was really fucking hard to be mad at those legs.

  “Hey,” he said. “I figured I’d set up the paint sprayer today.”

  “Okay. I’m done painting inside, so now it’s just the finishing touches, I guess.”

  “All right. I think we’re almost done with the whole thing,” he said, shading his eyes as he gave the little building a once-over. “I suspect that you have some stuff to move in, but other than that…”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Finally, huh?”

  “I guess,” he said with a shrug. “I’m gonna get the paint sprayer.”

  Colt got the sprayer out of his truck and filled it up. He took his time taping off the building and spraying the outside.

  He could feel eyes on his back as he worked, but every time he turned around it was just Rose. Coming outside to get something from her car, or emptying a trash can. Normal worksite stuff, only way more frequent.

  Still, there was a lot of staring going on from her end. The devilish side of him wanted to test her, to take off his shirt again, see how she’d react. He decided against it, though.

  She’s got to come to me, he chided himself.

  He finished all four walls just as the sun was beginning its descent. Colt stood back to view his handiwork from the driveway, drinking a bottle of water.

  “Is it done?” she asked, sticking her head outside.

  “Think so.”

  She came out to stand with him, admiring the building while he tried to not admire her legs.

  “It looks amazing.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So, listen…”

  He looked up at her, confused by her change in tone.

  “Yeah?”

  Her cheeks blazed bright red.

  “There’s this thing, this country western night, at The Speckled Hen tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to be my date. Like, Shelby will be there, but I thought you might want to come.”

  His brows rose. “As friends?”

  “As… whatever.”

  He stared at her, and she squirmed.

  Does this count as her coming to me?

  “Sure,” he said.

  “I’m going with Shelby, like I agreed to get ready with her, but I thought you could meet me there.”

  His lips twitched, finding her stammering explanation endearing. “All right.”

  “Good. I, uh… I better get going, then,” she said, running back to the building to lock up.

  Colt loaded up the paint sprayer, waving to Rose as she left.

  He had a date. Better yet, he had a date that she’d made.

  He smiled, his sour mood officially over.

  17

  Colt strode into The Speckled Hen, looking around. The lights were turned down inside, the tables pushed to the sides to clear a space. There was a full zydeco band playing to one side, with couples swaying along.

  The place was packed. Colt stepped past several groups of people at the bar to get a drink. Luckily Missy was off tonight, and some pale-faced guy got him his drink.

  He had never felt more amongst his people as he did now, in a long sleeve blue plaid shirt and jeans. It was like the same Cajun fairy had dressed all the men with this event in mind.

  He spotted Shelby, wearing some frilly pink shorts and a white shirt. But it was Rose, wearing a delicate wrap dress that was the same dark color as her eyes, that took his breath away.

  She looked over at him, smiled, and motioned for him to join them.

  Drawn to her like a moth to a flame, he went. Threading his way through the crowd, he walked up to them.

  “Hey!” Shelby said.

  “Hey,” he said, but he only had eyes for Rose.

  “You look nice,” Rose said, blushing.

  “Funny, I was about to say the same.” Her wrap dress was a little low cut in the front, giving him an enticing view.

  “I’m drinking some kind of punch they made,” Rose said, raising her glass to the light. “For the ladies. It’s sweet, but strong.”

  “Probably toxic,” he joked.

  She shrugged and took a sip, looking around.

  “Shelby knows all these people,” she said, nodding to the group of men surrounding her friend. “I, on the other hand, don’t know any of them.”

  “Should we grab a seat, then?” he suggested over the music. “That is, unless you’d rather talk to ten former frat boys.”

  Her lips curved into a smile.

  “A place to sit sounds good,” she agreed.

  Colt led the way to one of the tables, which had been pushed to the far corner. “Is this okay?”

  “Sure.”

  He pulled out a seat for her, and she blushed as she took it. “Thanks.”

  He sat down next to her, willing himself not to stare at the bounty she’d laid before him when she’d chosen such a low-cut top.

  “You like this dress?” she asked, catching him looking.

  It would look better on my floor, he thought, unembarrassed.

  “It’s stunning,” he said. “I would apologize for staring, but you don’t seem too off-put.”

  She gave him a slow, seductive smile that knocked him stupid. “No, I guess I’m not.”

  They were both silent for a while, listening to the fiddle playing and the singer singing in Cajun French. It was upbeat, jaunty music, more meant for dancing than listening to it.

  “Are you interested in dancing?” he asked, nodding his head at the couples on the floor.

  “Not yet,” she said, making a face. “I don’t know, maybe not at all.”

  “All right. I assume you’ll let me know.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “I will.”

  He was silent for a moment, then a thought occurred to him.

  “You must be excited for the clinic to open,” he said.

  She sipped her drink, looking reflective.

  “I am. I’m ready for people to start bringing their pets in, and calling on me for farm visits. Plus the income will be nice,” she said, smiling. “I’ve been living off the stipend that I got from the county for settling out here, but that’ll run out eventually.”

  “Ah, so your resources are finite. I was starting to wonder,” he teased.

  “Yes, well. I told you, I was a hostess in college. In vet school, I worked at a veterinarian’s office. I’ve never been a trust fund baby or anything.”

  He winced. “Hey, we’re trying to get along just like anybody else.”

  “Wait, you’re a trust funder?” she asked, seeming shocked.

  “Yep. All three of us are. My brothers, I mean.”

  Her mouth twisted. “So you’re… what? Mega-rich?”

  “The way my trust is set up, we get a small portion when we turn twenty-five. We get the remainder when our father dies.” He paused. “I spent a lot of the up-front payment already.”

  “Ah, so you’re a hobo, just like me,” she cracked.

  “Yeah. I have some investments that are about to hit big,” he said, playing with the condensation on his glass. “So I’ll have more money than either of my brothers soon.”

  He leaned back in his chair, watching her. She didn’t get that gleam in her eye that gold-diggers always got when they found out. She was interested for the sake of conversation, not in the money itself.

  Don’t get too excited, he reminded himself. She might not even be interested in you.

  “I always wondered what growing up with a lot of money was like,” she said. “We always had enough, always had a place to sleep and plenty to eat, but… it was charity, I think.”

  “Charity?”

  “Yeah, from my mom’s followers. They made her whole life possible, I think.”

  “Hmm. So we’re from different income brackets,” he said and shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”
r />   She cracked a lopsided grin.

  “Well, just as long as you don’t think I’m after your money.”

  “That would imply that you were after me,” he said.

  She blushed. “I’m not sure what I’m after.”

  “Let me know when you figure that out,” he said. “In the meantime, I’m off to get another drink. Can I refresh yours, since we’ve established I’m financially well-off?”

  “Sure,” she said with a laugh.

  He got up and made for the bar. It was so crowded that it took him several minutes to get their drinks. When he headed back to the table, the band was just finishing up, preparing to cede the stage to another.

  Colt wound his way through the crowd, frowning when he got close to their table. A man was standing there, grinning at Rose. He reached out and put his hand on her arm, which she shook off like a burning brand.

  “I just wanted to say hi,” the man was saying as Colt got close.

  From here, Colt could make out Jared Chalke’s features. His expression pulled into a frown.

  “And I told you that I never want to see you again!” she hissed. Her arms were crossed in an attempt to block him from seeing her cleavage.

  Weird.

  “Everything all right?” Colt asked, swooping in and setting the drinks down.

  “Sure,” he said. “Nice to see you again. Colt, is it?”

  “I think you need to leave Rose alone,” Colt said, getting straight to the point, his words underlined with steel.

  “We’re old friends,” Jared said. “Right, Rose?”

  She glared at him with what seemed like all the bitterness in the world. She seemed about five seconds away from spitting on his boots. Colt didn’t understand why she was so angry, but he knew the feeling well enough.

  He reached out and put an arm around Rose, steering her away. She was shaking with her fury.

  “I’ll see you soon, Rose!” Jared called.

  Don’t deck him. Don’t do it, he reminded himself.

  He pushed Rose toward the door. Shelby popped up, appearing next to Rose.

  “Hey, sorry, I was talking to…” she started, then stopped. “What’s wrong?”