by Tawny Weber
Just like he appreciated her.
He glanced into the kitchen, watching as Bryanna tossed colorful greens in a big bowl with two wooden spoons. She was going to a lot of trouble. He didn’t offer again to help. His girl was stubborn, he knew. And he really did appreciate that she was putting on one hell of a welcome home party for him. His game on TV, a fancy meal hot from the kitchen and mind-blowing sex. He tossed the penguin back on the couch and blew out a breath.
It was a hell of a contrast to his last few weeks.
That’s why he felt so weird, wasn’t it?
“Dinner,” Bryanna sang out, setting the bowl of salad she’d been tossing earlier on the small gateleg table next to the window. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Fancy,” he commented as he pulled out a chair for her before taking the salad and setting it on the table himself. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, though. I’ve been living on C-rations. One of your world famous tuna sandwiches would’ve been fine with me.”
“I wanted to do something special,” she said, looking up at him with a sweet smile. Rolling around naked together had worn away a little of her makeup—or maybe he’d licked it off—so her lips were bare and her eyes even more sexily smudged. Looking at her put that feeling there again, the indefinable one that lodged deep in his gut.
It freaked him out. He wasn’t sure if it freaked him more because he didn’t understand it, or because a part of him did. But figuring she’d gone to too much trouble to put together a nice evening, he set it aside to think about out later. And that, he told himself as he stepped back into the kitchen for the bottle of wine, wasn’t chicken shit. It was simply consideration.
And maybe if he kept telling himself that, he decided as he sat across from Bryanna, he’d drown out the clucking in the back of his head.
“You made this?” he asked after he’d scooped up an obligatory forkful of salad and realized it tasted damned good. “I’m impressed. I had no idea leaves and grass could be so tasty.”
“It’s the dressing, I think.” Her eyes danced as she took her own bite. “And of course I didn’t make it. You know perfectly well that I’m a lousy cook. The reason my tuna fish sandwiches are famous is because they’re about the only thing I make that is edible.”
“Nah, it’s the pickles and hardboiled eggs you mix in with the tuna fish that makes them famous.”
Her laughter bubbled out, as bright as the blonde curls floating around her face.
“Tansy delivered dinner,” she explained, hurrying up when the oven buzzer sounded. “But I ordered it, if that makes a difference. It took me two days to decide between cheesy lasagna or a garlic braised chicken.”
“What’d you pick?” Please, let it be lasagna. He was so in the mood for a fat helping of carbs with a side of crusty bread.
“Lasagna, of course,” she called from the kitchen. “I know you like fish best, but I figured you’d been on an island all this time, you probably weren’t in the mood for seafood.”
“You’re right. I swear, I spent so much time in the ocean that one night I actually checked to see if I was growing gills,” he joked as he carried the salad plates to the kitchen sink.
“Then you’ll like the lasagna,” Bryanna said, making Sam’s brows arch when the word rushed out so fast they almost fell over each other. “You should see the instructions she left. I’m pretty sure the owner’s manual for my car came with less details.”
“Looks like you followed them just fine,” he decided, watching over her shoulder as she lifted a healthy slab out of the foil pan. When his words made her almost bobble the spatula of cheesy pasta goodness, he tucked his hand under hers and guided it to the plate waiting on the counter.
“What are you doing in here? You should be sitting there enjoying your beer,” she chided, turning so her body rubbed against his. Sam looked down, enjoying the way that little movement shifted the lapels of her robe open just a little, offering a tasty view of her cleavage. Before he could wonder if he was hungrier for her or the richly scented lasagna, she pressed one palm against his chest and pushed. “Go, relax. I’ll bring dinner.”
“I cleared the salad plates,” he said, lifting his hand to show her before setting them in the sink to her right. “And I drank my beer.”
“I didn’t notice,” she said, sounding so horrified he frowned. “Sorry, I’ll get you another one.”
She hurried around him but before she could reach the fridge, Sam grabbed her arm.
“Bry, what’s going on?”
“On?” she repeated. He’d have bought that surprised look on anyone else’s face, but he knew Bryanna. She got a little crease between her eyes when she was really surprised and it wasn’t there now. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I came to see you. I want to spend time with you. I’m not here to cop a meal or get laid. Or, not just for food and great sex,” he corrected with a grin. His smile slid away as he frowned down at her, wishing he knew what was going on in that complicated brain of hers. “I don’t expect you to wait on me. I don’t want you serving me. I’m a big boy. I can pull my weight.”
“I’m just trying to welcome you home. You’ve been working so hard I figured you deserved to be a little spoiled for one evening.”
Since she followed that statement up with a hot, wet kiss, he couldn’t argue.
“Just one evening,” he decided when his mouth was free again. His head was still buzzing, so he figured that was the reason he took the beer she offered and, when she gently pushed him toward the door, he returned to the table without another word.
But buzzed and horny didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want Bryanna playing fifties housewife. He’d grown up watching his mom cater to his dad’s every need. To Sam’s knowledge, the old man had never once emptied the dishwasher, done a load of laundry or cleared a table.
“Here you go,” Bryanna said, bringing in dinner. “Enjoy. Then tell me everything you have planned for the next couple of weeks.”
“Training, mostly. I’ve gotta stay in shape for the PST. Physical Screening Test,” he explained when she frowned. “I’m currently top of my class, and I plan on staying there.”
“Oh, Sam, that’s wonderful.” Her face lit with delight, Bryanna reached over to squeeze his hand. “I’m so proud of you. That’s better than Eli and Noah did, isn’t it? Look at you, beating those two. Have you told Noah yet? I think Eli’s in Cairo. Maybe. I got a box a few days ago from him with Christmas presents addressed from there.”
While Bryanna went on and on about how Eli always sent his dad and brother’s gifts to Bryanna’s and hers to their dad’s house, Sam ate his truly delicious lasagna and waited for an opening. Eventually, she stopped to take a drink, probably because all the talking had parched her throat.
“I’ll be heading for Georgia after the first of the year,” he told her, looking forward to the trip almost as much as he was already missing her. “I’ve never been there before, but I hear it’s one helluva place for parachute training in January. I’ve jumped before, but never in bad weather. Is it weird that I’m looking forward to it?”
Snagging a third piece of garlic bread, he grinned as he contemplated the question. Weird or not, he figured it’d be great training. Maybe they’d get some big storms. Snow, even.
“I haven’t been to Georgia but I flew over it on my way to South Carolina one time with my Aunt Lori. Do you remember Lori? She married a guy named Lou Larson. He’s an Army Colonel. Before that she was engaged to that sweet man who was in the Air Force. What was his name? Manny? Of course, Uncle Chris was Navy like Dad, so Russell joked that she’d be hitting the Marines next.”
Sam tossed the crust of bread back on his otherwise empty plate and frowned. Why did she keep changing the subject whenever he talked about training?
“Is something wrong, Bry?”
“Wrong?” That something that he didn’t recognize flashed in her eyes again before she shrugged off his question. “
What could be wrong with me wanting to give you a wonderful welcome home?”
He simply stared. Sam considered that stare one of his finest weapons. It was filled with patience, stubbornness and immovable determination.
And it only took three seconds to break through Bryanna’s own wall of stubbornness.
But she didn’t break easily. She sighed, pushed her fork through her barely eaten dinner, then tossed it on the plate with a clatter.
“Really. Nothing is going on. It’s just that you’ve been gone a long time. Immersed in training, totally focused on a single goal.” She fiddled with the unlit candle as she spoke, twisting it round and round, tilting the taper this way then that. “I just figured that for your welcome home, this evening and maybe a few more, it’d be better if you put all that aside. Focus on other things. You know how Eli says too much focus on anything can make it blur.”
She said that last with the exaggerated roll of her eyes she habitually assigned to her older brother. And just like that, the weirdness was gone. Bryanna was his girl again. Sexy, sweet and fun, the woman he focused on when things got crazy.
Sure, she was usually happy to talk about his career. Hell, she was his best sounding board. Was that what was wrong? Was it one of those modern men things where she wanted him to be all sensitive to her needs and be her sounding board or something?
His gaze slid over that sweet face he saw so often at night before falling asleep and he mentally shrugged. He could do the sensitive thing if it made her feel good.
“Okay. Let’s focus on something else,” he agreed, getting to his feet and gathering dishes. “Why don’t you tell me about work. How’s the bank biz?”
“What are you doing?” Blue eyes round with shock, she sounded so astonished, he felt like a total jerk.
“Stay there, let me do this,” he ordered before Bryanna could rise or stop him. “You want me to relax, I want me to relax. With you. And you won’t relax until the KP is done. So I’m doing it while you sit there and enjoy a little downtime.”
“I’d rather—”
He cut her off with a single look.
“You cooked. I clean.”
“I heated,” she muttered, giving him that sulky look that always made him want to nibble on her bottom lip.
“Then I’ll rinse.” It only took him a second to do just that, washing the plates clean enough to last till morning. Since Bryanna had already put away the food, he was back at the table before she could argue.
“I report for PT at six-hundred hours,” he murmured as he reached down to take her hands in his. “But I’ve trained hard, built up impressive endurance and resistance to exhaustion. So what d’ya say? Wanna set some records tonight?”
“Records?” she asked, a smile in her voice as she rose in a way that ensured her body rubbed against every one of his erogenous zones. Damn, she felt good.
“I’m pretty sure our current record is you rocking seven orgasms in one night.” He reached down to untie the belt of her robe. “Let’s make it our mission to do better tonight.”
Chapter 5
“This is crazy. I can’t believe you convinced me to miss yoga class to look at underwear.”
“Not underwear.” Bryanna absently corrected Tansy as they wandered the gilt and mirrored boutique. “Lingerie.”
Fancy, expensive lingerie.
Her thighs were sore and her skin so sensitized that the simple brush of her cotton blouse against her belly made her want to moan. Every night since Sam had been back, they’d made love. Last night he’d upped his goal of eight orgasms in one night to ten.
Now, even nine hours after Sam had left her, her nipples were still rock hard, Bryanna had had to resort to a padded bra to hide the telltale sign of what felt like a terminal case of arousal.
Thanks to Sam’s mission for a record number of orgasms, they’d made love most of the night. But between—because even Super Sam had to recover for a few minutes here and there—they’d talked. They’d laughed and teased and shared stories of what they’d done while they were apart, of things they’d thought of in the intervening months or just random thoughts.
And she’d fallen in love with him all over again.
Damn the man, she couldn’t blame him for that. All she could do was hope he’d fallen for her just as hard.
But, since Bryanna knew better than to pin anything on hope alone, she’d taken a page out of Sam’s book. She was now on a mission of her own. She was going to do anything and everything in her power to make sure that Sam was as deeply in love with her as she was with him. She figured it was her only shot at keeping him from taking his trident.
And with that in mind, she was here to augment her mission supplies.
“Who buys this stuff?” Tansy wondered in a low mutter as she flicked through a rack of white nighties. “Five bills for something you wear to bed? Hanes does me fine.”
“As appealing as a white tee is, these are for seduction, not for sleep.”
“Skin works just fine for seduction.” Tansy shrugged before lifting a hanger from which dangled three tiny strips of purple satin and a hundred dollar price tag. “Oh, my God.”
She shot Bryanna a horrified look.
“Seriously. Skin. Baby oil if you have to fancy it up. But this is crazy. No man is worth this much money.”
“It’s not the man, it’s the experience,” Bryanna laughed. Then, taking pity on her friend’s frugal sensibilities, she pulled Tansy toward the back of the store. “These are last year’s designs, discounted to prices less likely to freak you out.”
Ignoring Tansy’s mutters, Bryanna started flipping hangers in search of the answer to capturing Sam’s heart. She wanted to run the gamut from sensual to seductive, making sure to hit a few fetishes in between. She flicked a finger over the frothy white feathers on a peignoir so perfect for a wedding night that it was all she could do not to cry thinking about having to return it if this little plan of hers failed.
She flipped right past the little bit of nothing in blue because it had no shape on the hanger, then went back to pull the hanger up to eye level. Oh, this was pretty.
A giddy feeling danced in her stomach. It was perfect. And she loved finding perfect when she shopped. It made her want to shop even more. Her fingers itched to grab more and more, to buy every single pretty thing she could find. But she had control, she reminded herself. Enough control to only buy what she needed to convince Sam that he wanted her.
She lifted the blue satin higher. He’d had appreciated the naughtiness of the black corset, so this should be a great contrast. More alluring than edgy, she decided. Seduction in silk, she’d call it. Deliciously soft, the material slid over Bryanna’s fingers. The rich blue fabric so tempting.
She smiled, feeling warm inside as she imagined the look on Sam’s face if he saw her in this teeny tiny bit of sexiness.
She was getting it.
She was determined to show him every sexy side of her, to offer every temptation she could. And this was the perfect nighty for round two.
Then her fingers hit the price tag.
“Damn,” she murmured with a grimace. The teeny tiny nighty cost more than her monthly car payment.
“Holy crap,” Tansy said, sidling up to Bryanna and turning the price tag with one finger. “Whoa. You’re actually buying that?”
Her own sticker shock was reflected in her friend’s voice.
“Yes, I’m buying it,” Bryanna said, her chin echoing her stubborn tone as she draped the tiny bit of fabric over her arm. Starting to regret dragging Tansy shopping with her, Bryanna hurried to the other side of the store where she added edible body glimmer, silk lined handcuffs and a leather bustier to her haul.
“Bryanna, stop.” Probably figuring—correctly—that her words were falling on deaf ears, Tansy planted herself in front of the corner Bryanna was standing in so there was no escape. “I can see the point in getting all the sex you can from Sam. And I realize that dumping the guy when he’s
in the middle of testing is wrong. I’m sorry I suggested it. But c’mon. You can stay with him and have great sex naked. Or in currently-owned lingerie. Don’t waste your money on this stuff.”
“I’m not wasting it,” Bryanna said stubbornly. Then, before Tansy’s logic could pierce her shopping haze, Bryanna headed for the checkout counter.
It’d work out, she told herself, pulling a credit card from her wallet while a six-foot Amazon in purple satin and pearls rang up her purchases. But when the clerk announced the total, Bryanna’s fingers trembled on the card. But she handed it over.
And told herself that it’d all be worth it if it helped her keep Sam.
Even though it was midafternoon, Sam had to push through a crowd of bodies in order to make his way to the back of the bar where he knew his friends were waiting. Weren’t most people supposed to be working at fifteen-hundred? Or, since he was in civvies, at three in the afternoon.
It felt weird to be in a civilian bar—hell, any bar given where he’d been the last few weeks-but as he glanced at the glossy surfaces and pretty plants, he had to wonder if Bryanna would like the place. Maybe he’d bring her here for drinks later in the week and find out.
He automatically shut down any and all thoughts about Bryanna when he saw two men at the small table against the back wall. Because no matter how hard he tried to stop them, thoughts of Bryanna always ended up naked in his mind. And as wrong as it was to think of her that way around one of her brothers, it was twice as wrong with both sitting there.
“Eli,” he greeted with a slap on the back before offering his hand and a grin to the other man. “Russell. How’s it going?”
“Great to see you, Sam,” Russell greeted as he stood, skipping the handshake to offer a manly hug. “Congratulations. Eli was just telling me that you’re well on your way to earning your SEAL trident.”
Basking a little, Sam offered a grateful smile to the man he’d always considered his mentor.
“It’s been awhile, Russ. What’ve you been up to?” Sam asked as he sat in the empty chair. No point asking Eli why he’d wanted to meet or why Russell was there. Sam knew the SEAL would fill him in if and when it was necessary.