Matched with a Hot SEAL (Hot SEALs)

by Cat Johnson

  Dammit. This clean out wasn’t going to be as clean as he’d hoped.

  Drawing in a breath, he decided to start with her stuff only for now. He’d decide later if he needed to get rid of his own stuff that reminded him of her.

  Slowly he moved through the apartment and filled the bag, room by room. Her pink toothbrush. Her purple razor. Her orange jacket. Her yellow-wrapped tampons. Her green bottle of shampoo. Her fuzzy blue socks. The multicolored panties he’d bought for her and had removed from her body more times than he could count.

  Her stuff spanned the spectrum of colors and, like a rainbow of daggers, encountering each one left a fresh slice on his heart. It all went into the bag. He certainly didn’t need or want the memories that came along with it.

  The open bottle of wine that only she drank got tossed in the kitchen garbage along with her blueberry Greek yogurt, now well passed its best by date.

  Then there was her coffee mug, the one he’d bought for her that said, There’s Wine in Here. He didn’t need any reminders that Sara’s two favorite drinks were coffee and wine. That went in the bag of things he was casting from his life.

  He paused at the sight of the leather-trimmed laptop bag she’d given him last Christmas. Dammit, he liked that bag and his old one was a wreck. He was keeping it. He deserved something out of the shambles of the relationship he’d dedicated nearly half a decade to.

  But the memory-laden pen and pad of paper inside his laptop bag, the ones she’d brought home from their room at the Navy Inn where they’d stayed when they’d taken a trip to NAS Pensacola together, those went in the trash bag.

  And there were the photos. So many photos. The digital ones saved on his computer and in his cloud storage. The physical ones, though few, secured under magnets on the fridge and in frames scattered around the apartment. Tossing those into the bag hurt more than the rest.

  The digital ones he actually took the time to transfer onto a thumb drive, which he tossed into the bag as well.

  He nearly succumbed to the urge to keep copies for himself, locked away on a drive somewhere in case there ever came a time he could look back on them and smile.

  Finally he dragged the whole folder of pictures into the trash on the computer, then emptied the trash.

  Yeah, in the back of his mind he knew he could recover those files. Computers were his life and his work. But at least he’d taken the first step to get rid of them.

  This was good. He was making headway and his heart felt lighter as the bag grew heavier until eventually there wasn’t anything immediately visible left to get rid of.

  He was sure that when he least expected it something else would pop up, but for now he was fairly confident almost all of the landmines had been discovered and removed.

  Now, what the hell to do with it all?

  He’d be damned before he took the time to box it all up, find the address and mail it to her. Although it would be amusing to imagine what her husband thought of the box of memories she’d created with another man arriving at his door.

  Will stood for a second, trash bag dangling heavy from one hand. He was close to tossing it all in the dumpster when his gaze landed on his cell phone.

  He strode to the table where he’d left it when the great purge had begun.

  Jessa’s cell number was still in his recent calls. He hit it and pressed the phone to his ear. When she answered, he said, “Are you home?”

  CHAPTER 6

  Jessa didn’t know why she whipped through the apartment like a fiend, cleaning, straightening, and then fixing herself up.

  Will said he was only stopping by to drop off some of Sara’s things. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything. That would be crazy. He was her sister’s ex.

  Even so, she was just swiping on some lipstick—and telling her reflection in the bathroom mirror that she was crazy for doing so—when the doorbell rang.

  Damn he was fast. Or maybe it was just that she had been trying to get too much accomplished in too short of a time.

  She reminded herself—again—that he was just dropping off some stuff, nothing more, and moved to the door.

  As she tugged on the knob and the door swung wide, Jessa got her first look at Will since the breakup.

  She wrote off the thundering of her heart to her recent frenzied bout of activity. It certainly wasn’t because Will looked so damn good standing in her doorway in his tight gray T-shirt and jeans.

  “Uh, hey.” She ran her hand through her hair and tried to ignore her voice sounded breathless. Maybe he hadn’t noticed.

  “Hey.” The expression of determination on his face and the big black trash bag hanging heavily from his hand told her he had other things on his mind besides the state of Jessa’s hair.

  “Um, come in.” She backed up.

  “Thanks.” Will took a step forward and glanced around the apartment. “I, uh, thought maybe you could give this stuff to your sister when you see her again.”

  It was doubtful she’d be seeing Sara anytime soon. Sara didn’t even visit their parents during the years she’d been with Jerry. Jessa didn’t think he’d be enthusiastic for Sara to visit her anytime soon. Just trying to get Sara on the phone was a challenge.

  She kept that information to herself and reached for the bag that would likely sit in her closet for the next year or so. “Sure.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “No problem at all.” Jessa eyed him more closely. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine. Good. Thanks.”

  She didn’t believe that but she didn’t know him well enough to call him a liar or push him for the truth.

  Instead she asked, “You want a beer?”

  His eyes widened. “You have beer?”

  “Yeah.” She laughed. “Why do you look so shocked?”

  “Your sister only drank wine.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Jessa walked to the fridge and pulled out two longneck bottles. “There’s still a half a bottle she left here.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “I had one of those at my place too. It’s in the garbage now.”

  “That’s where this one is going to end up. I’ll never drink it. It’s probably too old now anyway.”

  He hadn’t given her an answer about wanting a beer or not, but she popped the top off one bottle and held it out toward him anyway. He took it and read the label with a smirk. “Girly beer.”

  “Hey, at least it’s beer. I can offer you questionable wine instead if you’d prefer.” She cocked up one brow.

  “Nah. This is good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome . . . in spite of your judgment and criticism of my favorite beer.” She screwed up her mouth, which only made Will laugh.

  It was a good sound. Popping open the top of her own apparently less than masculine beer of choice, she smiled. She wouldn’t mind hearing Will’s laugh a whole lot more.

  He took a big gulp and lowered the bottle to the counter. “Hmm. Not bad.”

  “See. I’ve expanded your palate.”

  “Yeah, I guess it could use some expanding.” He ran his fingers through his wavy blond hair before raising sky blue eyes to meet her gaze. “So, you hear from her a lot?”

  Surprised he’d asked, Jessa answered, “Not much. A couple of times. Quick conversations. I know she made it there safely and she was still there as of about two weeks ago, which is the last time I called her. That’s the last I heard.”

  Will nodded but didn’t comment and an uncomfortable silence settled between them.

  She raised the bottle to her lips and took a swallow for lack of anything else to do while Will glanced at the new deadbolt, still in the box on the counter next to the fridge.

  He tipped his chin toward it. “What’s with that?”

  “Oh, that’s me procrastinating because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and I don’t own any tools. I bought it right after Sara—” Hating that all conversations seemed to lead to her sister, she cut off the thought. “Any
way, I thought I’d feel more comfortable living alone if I had a better lock on the door.”

  “I’ll install it for you.” He picked up the box to take a closer look. “I’ve got the tools in the truck.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s no trouble and you’re right, you do need better locks. A woman living alone—you probably should look into getting a security system too. That wouldn’t hurt. But for now, let me get this put in for you.” He pushed off the counter he’d been leaning against.

  “No, Will, really, I don’t want you to go to any trouble.” She took a step closer and laid her hand on his forearm. The feel of the muscles, strong and hard beneath his skin, had her swallowing.

  When Will dropped his gaze to where her hand touched him, Jessa pulled her hand back.

  “Jessa, I’m doing it so you might as well stop arguing and just let me.” He took a step toward the door but turned back to face her. He paused as if waiting for her to do just that—argue.

  She didn’t. She was too busy trying to still her beating heart, which suddenly felt very susceptible to the various charms of Will Weber, not the least of which was his concern for her safety.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll let you.”

  “Good.” He shot her a million watt smile and reached for the door. “Be right back.”

  Her heart did another flip as she watched him walk away.

  Damn. She was in trouble.

  CHAPTER 7

  A day off was probably the last thing Will needed at the moment. In past, it had been a treasured commodity. Now, not so much.

  Then, when he had no training, no missions and no meetings, Sara would have stayed overnight. He would have happily slept late and woken to the aroma of her brewing coffee.

  Will consciously shook that thought from his head. No more thoughts of Sara. She didn’t deserve the place she continued to occupy in the forefront of his mind.

  Brody’s girl was visiting him this weekend so he couldn’t call him to do something. He still hadn’t told the rest of the guys on his own team yet about the break-up and he didn’t feel like opening up that discussion today.

  No doubt they’d ask him why he was suddenly interested in hanging out since he usually ignored his teammates on his days off because he’d been with Sara.

  He could go home for a visit. He hadn’t seen his family in too long and Grandpa wasn’t getting any younger even if he did seem as indestructible as the battleship he’d served on during his stint in the Marines. But traveling that far from base would require approval for official leave.

  Will would have to talk to the commander about that possibility on Monday, which did him no good this weekend. The question remained, what could he do today to keep himself busy?

  No. He needed to change the way he thought. With that in mind, Will altered his question to himself to what should he do to take advantage of a day off and his newfound freedom?

  Better. But he still had no answer to the question.

  Or did he?

  He grabbed his cell and navigated to Jessa’s number.

  She worked full time, at what he wasn’t exactly sure. It had to do with advertising or marketing or something. But he did know that she always seemed to have weekends off. And today was the weekend.

  He’d done the bare minimum by installing the deadbolt she’d purchased. There was more he could do to secure her apartment for her.

  Today would be the perfect time to get to it. It would give them both peace of mind, by keeping him busy and her safe and it didn’t hurt that he enjoyed Jessa’s company.

  Will punched in the text.

  Hey! How’s that lock working out for you?

  A few seconds passed but instead of a text reply, his cell rang and Jessa’s name appeared on the display.

  Frowning that she’d called instead of texted, Will answered. “Hey. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine. I just hate texting.”

  Will smiled. “Old school. I like it.”

  She let out a laugh. “Yup. That’s me. Old and out of touch, I guess.”

  “Um, no. I meant talking on the phone is on the way to becoming a lost art like letter writing and I appreciate your effort.”

  “You really are a charmer, Will Weber.”

  “Am I?” Now it was his turn to laugh.

  “Yeah, you are.” She drew in an audible breath. “Anyway. Your lock is doing fine. Thank you. I slept better last night knowing it was there.”

  “Good. I’m glad.”

  “Me too. I was getting tired of waking up and listening for burglars.”

  “Jeez, Jessa. If you felt that way, you should have asked me to come over sooner to put it in.” Realizing that sounded inadvertently dirty, at least to him, Will added, “The lock, I mean.”

  Unaware of his juvenile enjoyment of a good double entendre, Jessa answered, “It’s fine. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a better lock until I heard about the break-in.”

  “Break-in?” He blew out a breath. “Jessa, you didn’t mention a robbery.”

  “Sorry. I guess I didn’t think to tell you.”

  “Well, tell me now. What happened?”

  “Somebody kicked in the front door of my neighbor’s place in the middle of the night while they were away. Nobody was home, but they lost some valuables. So that’s why I bought the deadbolt.”

  A lock that probably wouldn’t withstand being kicked in any more than the one that was there originally. Not with her flimsy doorframe. The wood would splinter and give way, lock or no.

  As the only boy in a family of girls, Will had a protective streak a mild wide. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Jessa in an apartment he could have made more secure and hadn’t.

  He had to correct this situation immediately. “I’m coming over.”

  “Um, okay . . .”

  “Sorry. I mean are you going to be around this morning and not busy? I had some ideas for a few more things to ramp up your security.” And now that he knew about the burglary, he had even more plans than before.

  “I don’t really have the money to install an expensive system. Or even pay for monthly monitoring. Covering all the bills alone is kind of stretching my budget. I didn’t realize how much Sara’s leaving would hurt.”

  That made two of them.

  “No worries. I’ll pick up everything at the store and put it in myself.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  What was with this woman and telling him he couldn’t do things for her? If her independence weren’t so impressive, it would be really annoying. But as it was, it only made him want to do more.

  “I’m doing it.”

  She sighed. “Fine. Thank you. I appreciate your taking the time. But I’m paying you for whatever you pick up.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Will!”

  He laughed, enjoying teasing her. “Okay. I’ll be over in an hour.”

  “Um, all right. See you.”

  He disconnected the call and realized he felt better already. Being busy was good. Getting out. Doing stuff.

  Will grabbed his keys and headed out the door. It probably wouldn’t even take him an hour to swing by the store and grab what he needed.

  A short time later, while standing in the aisle of the home improvement store, he realized he’d underestimated the time this would take. But that was only because his progress was slowed by his comparison-shopping as he searched for the best quality at the lowest prices, all because he knew Jessa was going to insist on paying him back and she was worried about money because of Sara moving out.

  Metal door reinforcer in hand Will paused when he realized that was the first time he’d come even close to thinking about Sara since he’d made the decision to head to Jessa’s this morning.

  Definite progress. Of course the next step would be to stop noticing that he wasn’t thinking about her.

  Drawing in a breath, he tossed the bo
x into the shopping cart.

  It wasn’t too long before he stood on Jessa’s doorstep, eyeing the door construction critically. With the two heavy bags from the store in one hand and his tool box in the other, he rang the doorbell with one elbow. SEALs were nothing if not adaptable and inventive.

  She opened the door, her hazel eyes widening when she took in all that he held. “What did you buy?”

  Will sidled past her and drew in a deep breath as he got a whiff of her—a combination of a light floral perfume and laundry dryer sheets.

  He moved away from her and into the kitchen, saying, “Nothing much. Just the necessities. And it barely cost thirty bucks so don’t worry about it.”

  He was lying about the cost, but she didn’t need to know that. Will plunked his burden down on the kitchen counter and turned toward her.

  How did she manage to make a ponytail, yoga pants and a T-shirt look so damn sexy? Frowning at his own thoughts and at himself for noticing, he yanked his gaze back up to her face. “Ready to get started?”

  “Sure. Not that I know what to do to help you, but I’m willing to give it a try if you tell me what to do.”

  He smiled at her willingness to help. “You can pour me some of that coffee I see in the pot and I’ll handle the rest. Sound good?”

  “That I can do.” She spun toward the coffee maker on the counter, sending her brunette ponytail swinging.

  He chastised himself one more time when his gaze dropped to take in how her waist flared out into the rounded curves of her hips and ass.

  She turned back to him and he yanked his eyes back up. “Ooo, I just remembered. I have some of those cinnamon buns in a tube. I can bake those to go with the coffee.”

  Fresh baked cinnamon buns, hot coffee and an even hotter woman. That was a hell of a combination. Damn near impossible to resist . . . and those were thoughts he didn’t need in his head right now.

  Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Why hadn’t he noticed how cute Jessa was before today? And why the hell was he noticing now?

  It had to be his month of celibacy. That’s all it was. Any woman he came across would pique his interest. He just happened to come across very few females in his line of work.