by Tawny Weber
She was so nervous. Despite six years of obsessive cravings for Sam—or maybe because of them—she’d never seduced a man. She’d always been sure that Sam was the guy for her, and that as soon as he figured it out, he’d seduce her.
And he had.
If hauling her out of a mutual friend’s Valentine’s bash, trapping her between his body and the side of his truck and kissing her into a melted puddle of lust was seduction. Since it’d gotten her what she wanted—a mind-blowingly awesome introduction to sexual ecstasy—Bryanna had figured it was close enough. Especially since they were still sharing that ecstasy two years later.
She’d told herself that things were great between them. They had tons in common, everything from a history of living in the same neighborhood to their taste in horror movies. She was good for Sam, giving him loving support and great sex in equal measures. And unlike some of her friends, she never nagged—especially about his career. That should be enough, right?
Except she didn’t think it was.
Not for what was coming.
Chapter 2
When Bryanna’s doorbell rang, she gave quick thanks for the end of her slow, dangerous slide into pouting. Glancing at the clock, she finished fussing with her appearance and hurried through her apartment. Her fuzzy socks making no sound as she crossed the hardwood, she stood on tiptoe to see out the peephole.
“Hey Tansy. I’m so glad you’re here,” she greeted when she opened the door, waving the other woman in with a sweep of one hand.
“I shouldn’t be. I should be talking some sense into you instead of helping you.” Her voice echoing her scowl, Tansy stomped in, her arms filled with delivery cartons.
At five-ten, the other woman was nine inches taller than Bryanna. Following the theme of complete opposites, her hair was long, black and straight, where Bryanna’s bounced in golden curls around a cherubic face.
A CPA with the prestigious firm of Battle, Dahl and Tisbury, Bryanna was a linear thinker who kept a cool head on her shoulders—except when it came to her addictions. In contrast, Tansy was the cooking half of the creative genius behind Sea Swept Events, a company that handled everything from gourmet catering to event planning to party hosting.
They’d been best friends ever since Bryanna’s older brother and Tansy’s twin sister had started dating six years back. They’d even stayed best friends after Eli and Macy had split up.
Still, Bryanna knew this favor was putting a strain on that friendship. Figuring it better to keep it quick, she took the covered trays and boxes from Tansy’s hands and hurried them to the little kitchenette, babbling all the way.
“I really appreciate you doing this. I know you usually don’t go to so much trouble to feed just two people. I talked to Joe Roseburg last week when he came by the office. He couldn’t say enough about the party you catered. A beachside event or something? Should I put any of this in the fridge? You have instructions, right? Oh, here. I see them.” Setting her armload on the stingy strip of countertop, Bryanna lifted the computer printed paper and waved it in the air.
Before she could take a breath and go for round two, Tansy shouldered her aside, separating the containers into two stacks.
“Refrigerate,” she instructed, tapping a long, slender finger on the transparent box filled with salad greens and vegetables, then on the bakery box. Then she patted her hand on the cardboard covered foil pans. “These you can leave out if you’re cooking within the hour.”
As Bryanna turned back from tucking two boxes in the fridge and grabbing a Pepsi for Tansy, the other woman gave her an arch look. “You don’t look like you’re going to be cooking in an hour, though.”
“Sure I am.” Bryanna looked at the instructions, twisted the knob of her oven to the right temperature to cook the lasagna, but didn’t switch it on. “Everything’s ready. I just have to get dressed.”
“Please, you never take less than an hour to get dressed.”
“I take over an hour to get ready,” Bryanna corrected meticulously. “But I’ve already done my hair and makeup, so all that’s left is clothes.”
Knowing Tansy would follow—and because being in the kitchen made her a little nervous—Bryanna stepped around her friend and returned to the living room. Like the rest of her apartment, the space wasn’t large, but she thought she’d made it feel spacious. The walls were the same pale blue as the afternoon sky peeking through a cloud, trimmed in white. She’d kept the furnishings to a minimum.
The sofa was a low backed, long sweep of gray a few shades lighter than the weathered wood floors, and since it was so roomy, instead of side chairs she’d opted for three footstools upholstered in pale blue tucked against the wall. Above them, mounted high so it looked as if it were a part of the wall, was the flat screen television she’d bought with Sam in mind. Scattered here and there throughout the room were a few decorative pieces that Bryanna loved. The glass bowl her grandmother had left her, filled with seashells. A few pieces of driftwood art and a couple of family photos in silver frames. And, of course, the stuffed penguin Sam had won her at a carnival cuddled three years ago sat on the corner of the couch.
“You know you’re wasting your time,” Tansy said as she sat on the couch, one foot tucked under her hip.
“Looking good to serve my guy a delicious meal is a waste of time?” Bryanna asked in her most guileless voice, throwing in a few bats of her lashes for good measure.
“Not what you’re doing. Why you’re doing it.”
“Sam’s been gone almost two months. This is simply a welcome home dinner before we get down to fabulously hot sex,” Bryanna said with a shrug as she curled onto the opposite side of the couch. “What other reason could I have?”
“A lot of people would believe that’s all you’re thinking about.” Her nails tapping against the soda can, Tansy shook her head. “I know better. Sam’s been in San Clemente finishing the third phase of his BUD/S training, right?”
“So?” This time Bryanna’s shrug was an irritated jerk of her shoulder. She didn’t like this conversation. After all, she knew very well where Sam had been the last three-and-a-half weeks. She knew what he’d been training for over the last six months of BUD/S. She knew SQT was next, and that after Seal Qualification Training, he’d earn his trident.
She understood all of that. And even though his reason for doing it all wasn’t to break her heart, she knew, too, it would be the likely result.
“So, it doesn’t matter how many great meals you feed him or how much hot sex you offer. If he passes BUD/S, he’s heading for SQT,” Tansy said. “A fancy meal isn’t going to convince him to forget that vow he made.”
“I’m not trying to convince him.” Bryanna knew better than that. Sam wanted to be a SEAL. He wanted it bad enough to make it through the fabled Hell Week and combat warfare training. And even though she hadn’t heard yet how he’d done with land warfare training—phase three—she was sure he’d done well. Because that’s the kind of guy Sam was. The kind who set his mind on something and made it happen.
Unless something changed that mind of his, Bryanna knew he’d earn his trident. And keep his vow.
Just thinking about it made her want to cry.
“Bry...” The words trailed off when Tansy bit her lip. Eyes filled with worry, she reached out to lay her hand on Bryanna’s lap. “Hon, he made a vow to become a SEAL. Part of that vow was that when he did, he’d do it as a single man. He’ll keep his word, just like his brother and yours did. These guys apparently don’t have the capacity to multi-task their precious Navy careers and a committed relationship. For you to wish otherwise is just setting yourself up for a big-time hurt.”
But she couldn’t give up. Fists clenched tight, Bryanna tried not to scream the words aloud.
She’d been in love with Sam for as long as she could remember. They’d grown up across the street from each other. And sure, Eli might be willing to throw away everything for his career, breaking up with Tansy’s sister, Macy, when he�
��d made the SEAL team. Not because he didn’t care about Macy. Bryanna knew her brother. Knew he’d been in love. But Eli had decided at sixteen that a man had to be unencumbered by a relationship if wanted to be a SEAL, and his country had to come first. He and his friends had pledged just that.
“They didn’t make that vow because they can’t multitask or because they’re in the Navy,” she said quietly, needing to make the other woman understand. As if somehow, that’d make it easier for Bryanna herself to accept. She lifted her gaze to Tansy’s. “The Navy can be rough on relationships—all the branches can be. But rough doesn’t mean impossible. My dad retired from the Navy. I grew up knowing what service is, how long deployments last and what it’s like to wait at home while someone I love is deployed in a hot zone. I understand the waiting, I know how to deal with it. If my mom had lived, she and my dad would still be together.”
“Okay, but we’re not talking about you being able to handle a relationship with a Navy guy,” Tansy pointed out. “We’re talking about Navy guys who become SEALs that can’t handle relationships.”
“Not can’t. Won’t. Eli, Noah and gang decided that SEALs in relationships didn’t work. They said it wasn’t fair to the woman, it put too much pressure on the SEAL and, what was the last one?” Bryanna frowned, trying to remember the rest of her brother’s stupid reasoning. “Oh yeah, that their only commitment should be to their duty.”
“You’ve got to wonder what the hell was in the water on that street where you all grew up.”
Bryanna gave a watery laugh.
“Five boys with more guts than brains,” she said, letting her head fall back on the couch, eyes soft, she remembered what those boys had been like. “Teenagers, all Sea Cadets determined to be SEALs someday. Sam wasn’t even a part of the original five since he was three years younger. But when Pete Nunyo got married right out of high school, Eli let Sam into the club to take his place.”
“And all of those guys joined the Navy? They’re all SEALs?”
Bryanna glanced over at the interest in Tansy’s voice. Hadn’t Macy filled her in?
“They’re all in the Navy. Some, like Toby Page and Brad Fenton, went to college first. But Eli and Noah enlisted when they were eighteen. They’re the only two that made SEALs.” Bryanna’s words trailed off into a sigh. “Now it’ll be the two of them and Sam.”
“It’s stupid,” Tansy snapped, pushing to her feet and storming into the kitchen, her thick-soled black boots thudding all the way. Before Bryanna could blink, she was back and looking as if she’d bounced a few steps beyond irritated into totally pissed.
“The SEALs aren’t stupid,” Bryanna defended, coming to her feet. “It takes an amazing amount of fortitude and incredible focus and dedication, not only to try out for, but to become a SEAL. They’re the best. Becoming the best doesn’t happen overnight. Eli, Noah and the rest spent years working toward that goal, so when they had a shot at BUD/S they could make it. Being the best means making sacrifices.”
Bryanna felt as shocked as Tansy looked to hear those words come flying out of her mouth. Her brother’s words. Sam’s words.
“I didn’t say the SEALs were stupid.” Tansy dismissed that with a wave of her hand, the movement making the sheer fabric of her dress flutter over her sleek black bodysuit. “The SEALs aren’t the issue. A bunch of wet-behind-the-ears boys making stupid vows is what’s stupid.”
“They thought they were doing the right thing,” Bryanna muttered, not sure why she felt like she needed to defend them.
“So you think it’s right that at sixteen, those kids vowed to go it solo the minute they made the team? Even if that meant breaking someone’s heart?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Careful not to smudge her makeup, Bryanna pressed two fingers to her temples, trying to rub away the pain throbbing there. “I understand why they believe that. And I don’t know that they’re not right.”
She glanced at the clock, then shook her head.
“Right or wrong, it is what it is. And now my hour is down to half, so I’ve got to get ready.”
“Why bother?” Sounding genuinely confused, Tansy lifted both hands, then let them drop. “You just said that right or not, you agree with that no relationship vow.”
“Why?” Bryanna shrugged as she headed for the bedroom where her slinky undies and sexy dress awaited. “Sam isn’t a SEAL yet. So I’m doing everything I can to show him what he’d be giving up if he joins.”
About to let herself out, Tansy paused with one hand on the doorknob to give Bryanna a long look.
“And if he still chooses the SEALs?”
“Then I’ll know I did my best.” Bryanna dug deep, because she knew the same stubborn determination that’d prompted her brother to make that vow ran in her own veins. Then she flashed a wicked smile. “Since my best includes a merry widow, complete with garter and stockings, a teensy dress and wicked stilettos, if nothing else, it’ll give me some great memories.”
Despite those words, she didn’t want to settle for memories. With Tansy and her disapproval gone, Bryanna dressed with a frown and made a vow of her own.
She was going to do everything she could to lure Sam into staying.
Because while he had one dream—to be a Navy SEAL—she had one too. To be Sam’s wife.
And if she didn’t do something about it, when Sam’s dream came true, Bryanna’s heart would break.
Grateful that he didn’t have to wait for a flight off San Clemente, Sam was back in his quarters in Coronado by Fifteen Hundred Hours. By Sixteen Hundred, he’d showered away most of his exhaustion, lusty anticipation taking care of the rest. He retrieved his car keys and cellphone from his footlocker and was halfway out the door when the phone buzzed.
Sam didn’t slow as he strode out the door, down the stairs and after a salute to the Quartermaster, headed for the parking lot. As he unlocked his Mustang, he hit play when the phone signaled the ignored caller had left a message.
“Yo, little brother. You’re either licking your wounds or you kicked phase three ass. Which is it? I’ll be enjoying my Christmas Pudding in a warmer locale, so leave a message.”
Deployed with SEAL Team Two, Noah Morelli was one hell of an example to live up to. What he wasn’t, though, was a nag. So Sam knew big brother wouldn’t care if he didn’t hear back right away.
Grinning, Sam slid his car into gear and headed toward his reward for kicking phase three ass.
He enjoyed the drive, and after six months of strict regimentation, treasured the freedom. When he hit traffic in San Diego, he appreciated his car’s maneuverability.
Bryanna’s apartment key was nestled right there next to his car key, so all Sam had to do was slide it in and twist. As hot as he was to get his hands on Bryanna, he still hesitated before turning the doorknob. He always felt weird just letting himself in. Hell, he didn’t even walk into the house he’d grown up in. But, as he always seemed to when he returned from months away, he was desperate enough to get his hands on Bryanna that he ignored the discomfort and walked right in.
“Yo, Blondie. I’m home.”
A little surprised that she wasn’t already in his arms, Sam let the door shut behind him and looked around. Her place was as fresh as always, although the rich scent of something redolent with tomatoes filling the air wasn’t the norm. Two glasses of wine sat, empty, next to a silver bucket of ice on the driftwood coffee table. So she was obviously expecting him.
Where the hell was she?
“Bry?”
His long legs made quick work of crossing to the kitchen. The oven light was on, a pretty bowl on the counter held green salad stuff that he figured he’d have to get through to get to whatever smelled so good.
But no Bryanna.
Figuring he deserved a beer to wash away his disappointment, he grabbed one from the fridge, then stepped back into the living room.
And stopped short.
“Welcome home.”
The husky words greeted hi
m, along with a gorgeous view. Bryanna stood, one shoulder leaning against the bedroom doorframe, her hand perched on the hip she’d cocked to the side.
There was a buzzing in his ears. The beer dangling between his fingers forgotten, Sam stared. Somewhere in the back of his head, he hoped like hell his jaw hadn’t dropped but even that concern was quickly smothered in a blanket of lust.
“Bryanna,” was all he could say since the air had left his body.
Her big blue eyes, usually so sweet and innocent looking, were exotically smudged and smoked so she looked like a sex kitten. Or maybe it was the sassy smile on those glossy pink Cupid’s bow lips. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves, blanketing milk-white shoulders, the ends curling toward her breasts as if pointing the way.
She looked like she’d just walked out of one of his wilder fantasies. The ones that always crept in late at night, usually when he was bunking in a room with a dozen other men and unable to do anything about his reaction except count the hours before he could turn fantasy into reality.
But now, with that opportunity standing in the doorway waiting, he could only stare.
She wore black satin, the slick corset cinching her waist and lifting those full breasts so it looked as if one deep breath would send them spilling out over the fabric. His fingers itched to help set them free. The corset was cut high on the thighs like a one-piece swimsuit, but he had never seen anything like it on a beach. Barely covering what he considered his own personal gate to heaven, it ended in a sharp v between thighs that made his mouth water.
She wore stockings that started high on those thighs with a band of black lace, then poured, smooth as smoke down shapely legs. Where her feet were encased in skimpy satin straps of fabric and arched on high, spiked heels.
“Wow,” was all he could say when he dragged his gaze back up the gorgeous body and found her face again.
“I wasn’t sure when you’d be here. Dinner’s about forty minutes from done.” She straightened, and that’s when he noticed the robe-like thing draped over her shoulders. At least, he supposed it was a robe. It had arm holes and poured down below her knees, but it was made of some sheer, filmy fabric that didn’t even attempt to hide anything.