Second Chance with Her SEAL

by Gillian Blakely

  “You fell for her,” Teo filled in.

  Boomer swallowed the lump of emotion.

  “Yeah. We had a great time. Better than any date I’d gone on with the popular girls. She was so carefree with me. But by the time we got back to school, she was a different person. Cold. Shuttered. Avoiding me at all costs. I saw her walking down the hall, she saw me and raced out the door into the rain.”

  His friends glanced at each other in disbelief.

  “There’s a story there.”

  Boomer shrugged again. “Too late. Doesn’t matter.” The damage was done. He just needed to remind himself that she was the type who ran when the going got tough.

  “I think it does,” Dylan said. “This woman has a lot to answer for.”

  “We were there, remember? We’ve known you for years. Something had to have happened to splinter a friendship like that.”

  He’d thought that too. He’d asked. He’d prodded. But eventually he’d let it go, as painful as it’d been.

  Boomer crossed his arms over his chest and fought the onslaught of old emotions.

  “You deserve answers,” Dylan said.

  “And maybe,” Teo said with a lift of one shoulder, “there’s something still there.”

  That’s what Boomer was terrified of.

  11

  David woke the following Saturday morning with a pounding headache. He mentally called his supervisor every name in the book. He hadn't gotten to bed until two in the morning.

  He glanced at his watch. That was only six hours ago. Almost.

  And while late nights weren't unusual on a movie set, the fucker’s incompetence was costing everyone time and money. Last night had been the last straw and he’d sent off emails to several people, including their director.

  With any luck, Toby’s head would be rolling by lunch.

  He sat up and the pounding increased.

  Someone was knocking on his door.

  “Coming,” he grumbled as he threw back the sheet. If Seamus was bothering him at this time of morning, they were going to have to have a serious talk.

  Not bothering to pull on jeans, he answered the door in his boxers.

  Sabrina leapt back as the door swung past her nose.

  “Sorry.”

  “Good morning,” she said, sounding cheerful despite the hour and almost needing a nose-job.

  David crossed his arms over his chest, mentally willing his cock to stay down. How he'd managed to not wake up sporting wood was a mystery, considering the very hot dreams he'd been having about the woman on his doorstep.

  He couldn't let himself be swayed by her. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't talk to her or touch her or kiss her again. Dylan and Teo were wrong.

  He'd been far too enthralled with her that night they’d spent wrapped up in each other. Lord knew he didn't need any more headaches right now. And she had the potential to be so much more than a headache.

  Teo and Dylan thought he should explore what could have been, what might still be between him and Sabrina. What they didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, was that she was the one person on earth who could finish him. Who could destroy what was left of his heart and soul.

  She’d seen him at his best, worst, during his formative years, through temper tantrums and finding his spot in the food chain. She’d been there for him as he’d battled with feelings about his step dad and the uncertainty of losing his mother’s affections.

  And now she seemed bold and brave and confident. Steam rolling back into his life, almost as if they were picking up where they’d left off after their first date.

  Did he dare give her a second chance?

  Could he survive if things went south again?

  “What are you doing today?” she asked.

  “I was planning on sleeping,” he responded dryly.

  She mounted the first step and her smile widened. “So, no plans?”

  He blew out a sigh. How could she be so freaking awake at, he glanced at his watch again, 7:55am.

  “No.”

  “Good.” She climbed another step.

  “Why is that good?”

  “I have a date all planned out.” She gripped the handrail. “But I'd rather talk about it inside, wouldn't you?”

  He glanced over her head and saw the blinds move in Seamus's living room slide. Busybody. David jerked his head, waving her inside.

  In the middle of his kitchen, she turned, and her gaze set his skin on fire. His body remembered exactly what had gone down the last time she’d been here. He remembered the sound of her moan, the heat of her breath, the cute little dimple on the inside of her left thigh.

  God help him, he wanted a repeat.

  She cleared her throat and shoved her hands in her pockets. As if that could keep her away from him.

  All he had to do is close the two steps between them and he’d bet his truck that she’d melt into his arms.

  “You’re going to need clothes. Casual is fine.”

  Her words, combined with the way she stared at his chest, made him extra aware of how little he was wearing.

  Fuck. How was it a grown assed man couldn’t control his own thoughts?

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I don't think this is a good idea.”

  “You will when I tell you where we're going.” She worried her lower lip and for a split second, her confidence dimmed. “At least, I hope you will.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Her gaze was busy tracing his navel and god help him...did she just lick her lips?

  “Sabrina.”

  “Yeah?” Her eyes snapped back up to his.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Can you please put some clothes on? You're terribly distracting.”

  Yeah, well that made two of them. Her purple sweater hugged her curves and the V-neck hinted at cleavage he now knew personally. The dark wash jeans clung to her hips and thighs. And God help him, the knee-high boots were straight out of his dreams.

  Did she have any idea how sexy she was? Like a breath of fresh air breezing into his life. Despite the early hour, aching temples and lack of sleep, he found the thin scarf draped around her neck very intriguing. It was long enough that he could tie her arms and her feet.

  “David!”

  Her voice pierced his bubble of lust and he zoned in. She was staring at his crotch and he followed her gaze.

  Fuck.

  His cock tented the front of the black boxers, leaving nothing to the imagination. Now she knew just how much he wanted her and it'd be that much harder to get rid of her.

  “I'll be right back.”

  After dressing in jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel, he strode back down the hall and found her making coffee. She hummed a tune as she pulled two mugs from the overhead cabinet. He liked that she knew her way around his kitchen and that she seemed happy there. While he’d never expect a woman to cook for him every day, he did appreciate being taken care of.

  Who wouldn’t?

  And when his care taker looked like that…

  He couldn't stop himself from admiring the view. Those jeans were made for that ass. The smattering of sparkles and intricate metallic thread adorning the back pockets was like a bullseye. His fingers longed to cup and mold her shapely curves. He was positive she hadn’t been hiding that figure beneath the shapeless clothes she’d worn in high school.

  In fact, he’d wager she did a hundred squats a day to get an ass like that.

  Down boy.

  “So.”

  She turned and leaned against the counter, her hands braced next to her hips. Could she be anymore endearing? Somewhere in the last fifteen years, she’d grown comfortable in her own skin. Confident in her place in life.

  And right now, she was completely relaxed in his home, as if she belonged there. “So.”

  He raised a brow in question, waiting.

  “Teo said you're a fan of Allen Croft.” The corner of her magnificent mouth pulled up a fr
action in a way that made him want to kiss the crinkle at the corner.

  Instead, he grunted. Fan implied he liked the guy’s movies. David understood the nuance Allen Croft brought to the big screen, he appreciated the way the director made the hard choices and brought a story to life.

  “Yeah. You could say that.”

  “Good.” She turned back to the coffee and poured two cups. “How do you like it?”

  Up against the wall, clothing optional?

  He cleared his throat. “Black.”

  She giggled, and he wondered what was so funny. When she handed over the Go Navy mug, her eyes were bright with mirth.

  “Care to share with the class?”

  She shrugged. “I'm half black. Maybe there's hope for me yet.”

  Her smile reached her eyes as she lifted the mug to her lips. She blew on the dark elixir. After an appreciative sniff, she moaned. “Best scent ever.” She grinned. “At least before noon.”

  With that, she sashayed out the door. He was sure he'd never seen a dictionary definition come to life before, but he was equally positive that next to the word sashay was a picture of Sabrina Duncan. By the time he cleared his head and grabbed his keys, he found her behind the wheel of her car.

  She really wasn't going to take no for an answer.

  Fuck.

  Coffee cup in one hand, he locked up with the other.

  “Come on, handsome,” she called through the open driver’s side window. “You'll thank me later.”

  That was debatable.

  His life had been boring but quiet before she'd blasted back into it. Sure, he didn't have much passion to speak of but there wasn't emotional heartbreak on the line either.

  With Sabrina, he would bet his favorite ACOG scope that Sabrina give heartache a new meaning.

  When he was folded into her ruby red car, he took a sip of the rich brew. Nice and dark, just the way he fixed it. No weak shit for him.

  He put on his seatbelt as she zoomed through the RV park.

  “So why, exactly, am I going to be thanking you later?”

  She giggled again, and her giddiness washed over him. Dammit if she didn't make it hard to remain unaffected. He might look placid but that was only because he'd long ago mastered the art of the poker face.

  Inside he was on a slow boil and he could feel his heart warming up. He'd much rather it remain encased in ice.

  “Because we're having brunch with Allen Croft.”

  His head swiveled in her direction so quickly he heard his joints pop. “What?”

  There was that laugh again. She smiled over at him, obviously having too much fun.

  “Now aren't you glad you came?”

  He looked out the windshield and saw she was navigating toward the highway. When he glanced her way again, her tongue peeked between her lips as she concentrated.

  “Okay, explain.”

  “Allen is an old friend of mine. I made his wedding invitations. And today, I'm delivering concepts for his baby shower invitation and birth announcement to him and his gorgeous wife. They're in town for the weekend. I figured you might like tagging along. Poor Allen has no one to talk to when Marissa and I get going. You two can talk shop. You'll be doing me a favor, actually.”

  She jerked her thumb toward the backseat. Glancing back, he saw a folder with an old, tattered notebook on top.

  “Well, this is a surprise.” He should've showered.

  “Don't worry.” She glanced over at him. “You look sexy as hell.”

  His brows rose at her bald appraisal. At least his hair was short enough that there was no chance of a cowlick. Good thing he’d brushed his teeth.

  As she accelerated onto the highway, pressing him deeper into the seat, he wondered if he should just relax and enjoy the ride. He could pretend, just for today, that he was whole and that the beautiful woman at his side hadn't pulverized his heart all those years ago. Right?

  * * *

  Sabrina handed her keys to the valet in front of the hotel. She shot the man a smile and thanked him.

  Her sincerity was something David had always appreciated about her, but those little details had slipped his mind in the years since he’d seen her last. There was no time for manners on the battlefield. Bullets didn’t stop just because you were cordial.

  She slid her arm through his and started for the door. The lobby was gleaming white and polished to perfection. He imagined that a night in a place like this would set him back a couple days salary.

  David appreciated that she didn’t fill the air with endless chatter as she guided him down a long, sun filled corridor. He glanced out at the sparkling blue pool and decided that Sabrina fit here. On the other hand, he was completely under dressed, not that he gave a shit. She seemed completely at ease and once again he found himself wondering about her life in California. She’d obviously done well for herself.

  Despite his apprehension about reconnecting with her, he was curious about her life. She’d mentioned her college friend that’d passed away from cancer. They’d obviously been incredibly close. Try as she might to hide the shadows behind a brilliant smile, he could see that tragedy had shaped her. That was something he knew about all too well.

  The hall gave way to another small lobby and she turned toward the restaurant. Heads swiveled in their direction and he was acutely aware of the men checking her out. David couldn’t blame them but that didn’t stop his protective instincts from kicking into high gear.

  He slid a hand to the small of her back and guided her across the room. To anyone else, Allen Croft might seem like just another guy in the crowd. He wasn’t movie star gorgeous by any standard, but David knew who he was.

  Allen smiled and stood as they approached. Sabrina skirted the table and stepped into the other man’s embrace. She gave him her warmest smile; the one David was beginning to realize was reserved for her closest friends.

  What would it take to get her to smile at him like that?

  He shook off the thought and extended his hand as she introduced them.

  “Nice to meet you, David. I was impressed with your work on Atticus Divided.”

  “Allen likes his explosions,” the redhead said, pushing to her feet.

  “That makes two of us,” David agreed.

  The two women hugged, and Sabrina oohed and ahhed over the other woman’s belly. Then, as if remembering they weren’t alone, Sabrina pivoted and shot him a smile.

  “David, this is Marissa Edwards-Croft.”

  “I’d been wondering why Sabrina moved back east,” Marissa said, her glossy pink lips turning up in a wide smile. She darted a glance at Sabrina, then back to him as they shook hands. “Now I know.”

  The conspiratorial tone wasn’t lost on him, and it obviously wasn’t lost on Marissa’s husband either.

  David thought he heard Allen mutter “hormones” beneath his breath. Then, “Sit. Please. We just got here, and this place has the best coffee.” Allen's gaze swerved left and a waiter appeared almost immediately.

  It must be good to be king.

  “What would you like to drink?”

  Sabrina surveyed Marissa's glass of orange juice and then Allen's coffee. “How about a mimosa?”

  “Good, drink one for me,” Marissa said, resting a hand on her very pregnant belly.

  “With pleasure.”

  “And you, sir?” The waiter’s brows lifted ever so slightly as he turned his attention in David's direction.

  “Coffee, black. Thank you.”

  “So, Sabrina tells me you're almost finished with the Oponhiem project,” Allen said.

  Sabrina handed Marissa the folder and they quickly lost themselves in paper samples, color schemes and talk of the baby.

  She'd been right, Allen was very much a third wheel.

  “I am. Just a few more days.”

  “What's next for you?”

  “I'm supposed to be in New Orleans shortly after Christmas.”

  Allen nodded and reached for his cup
. “That's the one with Tyson Ioannou, right?”

  David nodded, surprised that he'd bother to keep tabs on other movies. But then, the movie business was a surprisingly small world. And Tyson was a rising star, ridiculously versatile and obviously destined for the industry’s highest honors.

  The women laughed, and Allen's gaze softened as he looked at his wife. As if unable to stand not touching her, he reached for her hand. She shot him a quick smile and turned back to her conversation.

  Vanessa hadn't been big on PDA. She'd never cared to hold hands, in public or otherwise.

  David stared at their joined hands. What must it be like to claim your woman so publicly? In the scheme of things, it was a chaste touch, and yet, the signal was loud and clear to anyone looking.

  Marissa belonged to Allen and Allen belonged to her.

  Sabrina had been right about the shop talk. What she couldn't have known was how pleased David was to get to pick Allen's brain. The man obviously had a deep love for cinema. They were still talking about their favorite old films when Marissa sat back and sighed.

  Allen's gaze swerved to her, mid-sentence. “Are you okay?”

  She pushed her plate away, her second of the morning. David glanced at his watch. They'd been talking for almost two and a half hours.

  “Yes. Stuffed,” she assured him.

  What they said about pregnancy glow was spot on. Marissa was practically shining with happiness.

  “We should get you upstairs to rest,” he told his wife. Then to David and Sabrina, “this last term has been killer.”

  David remembered how scared he'd been during Vanessa's final trimester. It certainly hadn't helped that he'd been halfway around the world in a barren desert.

  Allen was lucky to get to experience every step. David said so.

  Sabrina's gaze swerved to his and her jaw dropped ever so slightly.

  “I keep trying to convince Allen to quit jet setting and to open a theme park or something, that way we could stay in one location for more than a few months at a time,” Marissa said as Allen helped her to her feet. A curtain of her glossy red hair swung down, covering her face. She tucked it behind her ear and slipped her arm through her husband's.