“For the record, the grain and hay are no longer stored in that barn,” Evan corrected Presley’s earlier comment. “It hasn’t been used for much, except storage, for years. It’ll take time to clean out.”
“We have four weeks.” John turned his gaze toward Evan, his eyes hopeful. “What do you say? If you say yes, you’ll be saving me a ton of time and energy.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Presley added.
There was only one problem. Evan would have to get permission from his dad to use the space. Oh, he could get the man to agree, but nothing in his relationship with his father came without a cost.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he gritted out. For the second time that morning, Evan had to resist the urge to choke out his best friend.
3
“No. No fucking way.”
Evan threw open the gate to his gear cage. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat from his eyes. He slid onto the only seat in the small space, a piece-of-crap folding chair he’d found a while back in one of the storage closets on base, and reread John’s text message.
John: I gotta bail. The network signed off on my proposal this morning. Deadline is tight for preliminaries. Sorry, man. You and Presley can handle the planning without me, right?
“Wrong,” Evan grumped as another message came through.
John: Presley will meet you at the ranch in an hour to take a look around. Told her to meet you at your place. Hope that’s okay.
Evan glared at the screen.
“No, it’s not okay.” Evan hadn’t talked to his dad about using the barn yet. After leaving the coffee shop yesterday, he’d gone straight to the base to get in a workout and do some training with the team. Once done, he’d headed to the ranch, grabbed a quick sandwich from the cottage house where he lived, and then ran over to help his brother and sister exercise a few of the horses. By the time he’d had the last horse bedded down, he’d been exhausted and in no mood to deal with his father.
Asking his dad for permission to use the barn—that particular barn—was not a conversation he wanted to have in front of Presley.
Evan looked at his watch. If he wanted to catch a minute alone with the man before Presley arrived, Evan didn’t have much time. A shower would have to wait. Grudgingly, he opened the text and typed a reply.
Evan: You’re an asshole. You know that, right?
John: Knew I could count on you! Thanks!
Cursing, Evan hooked the strap on his duffel bag with the end of his shoe, pulled it between his feet, then slipped his phone into the side pocket. He stripped out of his wet shirt and tossed it toward the laundry bag in the corner of his locker. Grabbing a towel out of his bag, Evan sniffed it to make sure it was clean. Deemed fresh, he swiped it over his face.
He still couldn’t believe it. Presley Masters. The girl who’d broken his teenaged heart was back in his life.
Evan laughed softly. “How did I get roped into this shit?”
Planning a wedding with his ex. Jesus. And that wasn’t his only problem. He hadn’t thought about Presley in years, and now, after spending time with her at a coffee shop, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Once they’d agreed not to dredge up the past, she’d transformed into this animated, quick-to-smile beauty whose laugh warmed his chest each time he heard the gentle sound. Then there was the fact she was hot-as-fuck, which warmed him in other places.
Evan dried his chest and arms the best he could. He wadded up the towel and sent it packing the same way he had his shirt.
One hour. He’d spent one hour with the woman. How the hell had she gotten under his skin so fast?
“Because you’re a fucking idiot,” he mumbled, well aware his teammates were milling around and could probably hear him.
The situation with Presley confused the hell out of him. The dichotomy between past and present was messing with his head.
On some level—the one with a direct line to his dick—Evan wanted her. The spark of heat he’d seen in her eyes the second their gazes had locked made him shift in his seat, even now. Presley had fire in her. If there was one thing Evan loved, it was stoking a good fire. Whether in the pit behind his cottage or with a woman wrapped around him in bed.
The rational part of his brain understood wanting Presley was a horrible idea. Whether they’d discussed it or not, there was bad blood between them. Just because he agreed to let it go didn’t mean it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. He should treat this thing between them as strictly business.
Unfortunately for Evan, reason seemed to have left the building the moment Presley had walked in the coffee shop.
He’d spent the better part of the day yesterday trying not to imagine what she looked like under that red dress. He didn’t know, and it was suddenly driving him crazy.
In the handful of months they’d been together, Evan had touched and kissed Presley, but they’d never quite managed to seal the deal. He couldn’t even fucking regret it because she’d been young—and a virgin. Evan hadn’t wanted to pressure her into doing anything she might regret, so he’d kept their explorations on a tight leash.
Who had earned her virginity after he’d left?
Then, another thought sliced through his brain like a razor blade. Who the fuck took what should’ve been mine?
Evan growled and dropped his head into his hands. He had lost his damn mind. “Stop. Stop. Stop.”
“Who the hell are you talking to, Cowboy?”
Evan glanced up to find C-Note—otherwise known as Benjamin Blackwell—also sweaty and still red-faced from their run, leaning against the cage door. At thirty-five, C-Note was the oldest guy on their team. He was Bravo One, team leader, and one of Evan’s closest friends.
Evan grabbed another towel from his bag and tossed it at the guy. “Do I look crazy to you?”
“Is that a serious question?”
“No. Yes. Fuck, I don’t know.” Evan couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this out of sorts. He needed to get his shit together. Fast.
“I think we all have to be a little crazy to do what we do.” C-Note slung the towel around his neck, holding each end in a fist. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Come to think of it, no. No, he didn’t. He had to get moving.
Evan grabbed a clean shirt from his bag. He surged out of the chair, shoving his arms and head into the appropriate places and settling the tee over his torso. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”
C-Note gave him the smirk. The one all the guys hated. The one that said C-Note knew something the rest of them didn’t and he was waiting for them to catch up. “If it’s nothing, then it shouldn’t be a problem to talk about.”
Evan could argue, but what was the point? He was the dumbass who’d opened the can of worms in the first place.
“The short version?” Evan started collecting his things. Keys and wallet from his locker. Duffel bag from the floor. “Somehow, I ended up in charge of planning my buddy John’s wedding.”
When C-Note’s brows soared, Evan nodded. “Exactly. But, that’s not the best part. I’m not doing it alone. He got my ex-girlfriend to help.” Of course, John hadn’t known Presley was Evan’s ex, but that was another story and didn’t seem worth mentioning.
C-Note’s bark of laughter got the attention of the other guys who didn’t waste time circling.
“Did I hear that right?” Nolan “Ringer” Bell asked. “Cowboy is hanging up his sniper rifle to become a wedding planner?”
“Cowboy’s gonna do what?” That from Eric “Viking” Anderson.
“I’m not—” Evan snapped his mouth shut. No one was listening to him anyway. It was best to let them get it out of their system.
“Yo, Rooster! Check it out,” Ringer yelled. “Cowboy’s starting a new business.”
“Are you talking flowers and shit?” Viking asked, looking horrified.
Evan rolled his eyes as Jacob “Rooster” Fowler came into view.
The asshole was grinning from ear-to-ear. “Taking up a new profession, my man?”
Evan flipped Rooster the bird.
“I have so many questions,” C-Note said, still laughing.
Evan tossed the strap of his duffel over his shoulder, leaning slightly to offset the heavy weight. “I’m sure you do. Fortunately for me, I have to go.”
C-Note stepped back and let Evan slip by. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Come on, man,” Rooster pleaded. “Don’t leave us hanging.”
Evan turned to face his teammates, his brothers, while still walking backward toward the exit. “There’s nothing more to say.” He was really sorry he’d said anything at all. “I’ve got an ex to meet and a wedding to plan. I’ll see all you fuckers, tomorrow.”
“Wait. Meet us at McP’s later,” Viking yelled. “We need details.”
No way in hell. “I’ll let you know.”
“This ex of yours,” C-Note called out to him. “Is she hot?”
Those words stopped Evan in his tracks. C-Note rarely met a woman he couldn’t—or didn’t—have. The idea of him anywhere near Presley grated on Evan’s nerves something fierce.
C-Note knew it, too. The smirk was back.
The traffic in San Diego was a disaster. By the time Evan passed through the main gates of the ranch, otherwise known as Lancaster Creek Equestrian Center, he was ten minutes late. He hadn’t thought to get Presley’s cell number, so he’d had no way to let her know he was on the way. He made a mental note to rectify that situation when he saw her. The need to have her number was in no way personal. They had to communicate if they were going to work together. It just made sense.
Keep telling yourself that, dude.
Evan drove past the main exercise arena and headed toward the main house. Lancaster Creek was expansive by San Diego standards. The property had been in his father’s family for several generations, but it had been his grandfather who had turned the once failing ranch into the profitable equestrian center it was today.
The center provided riding lessons of all types: trail and beach rides, arena jump courses—indoor and outdoor—as well as providing several large grazing pastures and pristine boarding facilities.
Lancaster Creek was a family business, as his father liked to point out at every turn, but it was also home. Evan had grown up in the house where his parents and siblings still lived, centered in the heart of the property.
His mom and dad managed the overall business. His younger brother Josh and his sister Baylee did the majority of the hands-on work, as well as managed the staff. Evan was the odd man out. He helped where and when he could, but he was the only member of the family who didn’t play a significant role in the profitability of the business.
Evan didn’t mind being around horses. He loved to ride and enjoyed the challenge of training, but he didn’t have his brother’s intuition or his sister’s gentle touch. While he had immense respect for the service his family provided, Evan’s idea of service was a little different. And a call too strong to ignore.
He’d been a kid when the September 11, 2001 attacks had occurred, but the images from the television screen burned themselves into Evan’s soul. He’d gotten his first glimpse of evil that day. Watching the horror unfold, Evan had wanted, needed, to be a part of eradicating the threat to everything he held dear. He hadn’t understood it then, but his fate had been sealed, his path set.
His dad didn’t get it. He didn’t care that the work Evan did was important. When Evan’s father looked at him, he saw was a son who’d abandoned his family. Nothing more. It was the primary source of contention in their relationship. Evan had learned long ago that there was nothing he could do to make his dad happy, so he’d stopped trying.
Before the driveway widened at the main house, Evan turned left onto a dirt road. Trees lined one side of the road that led to the east barn. Pasture lined with white fence rails dominated the other. The pang of bitterness he usually felt when the enormous round barn came into view was strangely absent today. He even spared the building a glance as he drove by. There was a time he wouldn’t have done that much.
A few hundred yards down the road, the tree line gave way to the gravel drive and yard in front of his cottage.
Set back from the road, his place was small, less pretentious than the rest of the property, and relatively private. Nestled among the trees and set away from the activity from the center, the cottage was Evan’s haven. The place he could relax after a long day or regroup after a mission or long deployment.
From the outside, the cottage didn’t look like much more than a white square with windows with a porch across the front and a dark blue front door. Inside, he had the basics. One bedroom. One bath. Open kitchen and living room. More than enough space for a single guy who wasn’t around much.
Evan turned into his driveway and pulled his Dodge Ram alongside the much smaller vehicle already parked there. He turned off the ignition as Presley stepped out of her car.
He couldn’t help but smile. She looked like a ray of sunshine. She wore a bright yellow sundress that made her skin glow. Instead of heels, white canvas sneakers adorned her feet. Evan couldn’t decide which he preferred, since both were equally sexy on her.
Her hair was braided into one thick plait that hung over her shoulder. If she wore any makeup, it was light enough to look almost nonexistent, save the slight flush of her cheeks. She looked young, happy, and far too fresh and innocent for the thoughts he’d been having.
Evan grabbed his duffel bag and slid from the truck. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Traffic was out of control.”
“It’s all right. I haven’t been here long.” She looked around him, her brows pinching. “Where’s John? Isn’t he with you?”
“He didn’t call you?” Evan walked over to the porch and dropped his duffel at the base of the steps.
Presley checked her phone, her frown deepening. “No.”
Of course, he hadn’t. Evan didn’t know why he was surprised. That was John. Unable to multitask on any level. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, sunshine, but John’s not coming.”
The wind shifted, and the scent of honeysuckle hit Evan’s nose. He tilted his head. There weren’t any honeysuckle bushes around his place, yet the delicate fragrance was unmistakable. He glanced around, wondering if the stuff had started to grow wild among the trees.
“Oh.” The breeze ruffled loose strands of Presley’s hair, and she tucked them behind her ear. “Do we need to reschedule? Because I—”
“No. I mean, he’s not coming. At all.”
“I don’t understand.” Her bottom lip shifted into a slight pout, immediately making Evan want to drag his thumb over the plump flesh.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Evan forced his gaze away, annoyed that he couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts under control around this woman. He’d never had that problem before.
“Come on.” He started walking back toward their vehicles, hoping she would follow. It seemed imperative to keep moving. To stay focused on the task at hand. “Let’s go take a look at the barn. I’ll explain on the way.”
“Do you mind if we walk?” Presley bounced to his side, apparently excited by the prospect. “It’s not that far, and it’s a beautiful day.”
Evan drew in a breath as he considered the idea.
Lord help him. That deliciously sweet scent wasn’t actual honeysuckle. It was Presley.
“We should drive. The road isn’t in the best shape, and I don’t want you to twist an ankle on the loose gravel.”
“I came prepared.” Presley lifted a foot to show him the sneakers.
“Pretty and practical,” Evan mused, causing an adorable color to rise in Presley’s cheeks. “Well, all right then, sunshine. I guess we’re walking.”
Evan slowed his pace to match hers. Years ago, he would’ve reached for her hand. Today, he shoved his into the front pockets of his shorts. They fell into an easy
pace.
Presley gave him a sideways glance. “What’s going on with John? Is he having second thoughts?”
“Not at all. He had some stuff come up with work that’s going to keep him busy for the next few weeks.”
“The next few weeks? That’s all we have.”
Evan almost succeeded in not laughing. Almost. “I’m aware,” he said, chuckling.
“Does he want to postpone?”
“Nope.”
“So, what are we supposed to do?”
“Plan a wedding?”
She lightly punched his shoulder. “Very funny, Evan. I’m being serious.”
“Unfortunately, so am I.”
“No one is forcing you to help,” she reminded him. “It’s fine if you have other things to do.” She stopped walking and turned to face him, hands perched casually on her hips. “I’m serious, Evan. I would understand. I get that this isn’t what you signed up for. This is above and beyond the standard best man duties.”
“It’s not what you signed up for either, Pres.” The nickname felt familiar, intimate on his tongue.
She shrugged and resumed walking. “It’s not a big deal. I offered to help, so that’s what I’m going to do. Anyway, like I said yesterday, Chloe already had the details worked out. I just have to shift things around and make new arrangements.” Her lips thinned, and then she muttered, “Maybe find a new bakery to make the cake.”
Evan blew out a heavy breath. Not willing to make a promise he couldn’t keep, he chose his next words carefully. “You’ll have to take the lead, because I have no idea what needs to be done. Give me the guy jobs, and I’ll do my best.”
Presley fired him a curious look. “Guy jobs?”
“Cake tasting, obviously.” He wasn’t going to miss that. “Picking up the tuxedos. Ordering a limo.” Evan had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.
The corner of her mouth twitched, as if she was trying not to laugh. “How about we start with the barn?”
He’d almost forgotten. Now that they were there, Evan wished they could turn around and head back to his place.
Hot SEAL, Best Man (SEALs in Paradise) Page 3