SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style

by Sharon Hamilton

  Holy fuck.

  And he’d given her Janice’s book, too. What was he thinking? So now sex, reading sex, modeling with a half-naked woman selling sex, was front and center in their discussion. And she’d made that comment about him doing something dangerous. He normally didn’t want to mention it to a woman he’d just met, and he’d learned not to brag about being a SEAL, but for some reason, he wanted to tell her. He’d see if she asked again, and then he’d tell her. Maybe it wouldn’t scare her off or make her cling to him like a rag doll. Either one of those reactions was a total turnoff.

  No, he was snared in the net she had no idea she was casting. And he wanted to be caught. Her hair, her warm eyes, and the scent of her perfume, the way she smiled, crossed her legs and laughed. Whatever it was she was dishing out, he wanted more. A lot more.

  As he chanced a quick glance down at that huge crystal on her fourth finger, he realized it was pure folly. Someone with lots of money had made a spectacle of his claim on her. Most of his buddies could ill-afford a plain gold band, and that’s always what he expected his wife’s ring finger to look like some day. He saw the rock on her finger as evidence he didn’t measure up in the financial department.

  But she liked him. He knew she did. There was chemistry between them. He’d be very sensitive to any little change or shift in her attitude telling him to back off, but that’s not the message she was giving him. So, he’d play along a little while longer.

  She didn’t disappoint.

  “I’m visiting my sister. We’re going to do some fun things we haven’t done in a while.”

  “Girls’ night out?” he said before he could check himself. Damn.

  She had that delicious wrinkle of her forehead and her lips were all bunched up and kissable. “Not with my sister. Ew.”

  “Sorry.” He forced himself to stare at the back of the seat in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her tilt her head that way ladies did, just before they were going to ask a question. When they sometimes played with him, fishing for an answer or a reveal, without looking to be direct.

  “So you grew up in Portland?”

  It was an answer he could have given without looking at her, but it gave him the excuse, and, damn, the more he looked at her the more he liked what he saw. “More or less. My parents went to Reed and UW, art majors, hippies. We moved around a little at first, but settled in Portland. They’ve been there over twenty years, so I guess it’s home, although San Diego is where I live now.”

  He was feeling he’d told her too much, so he inhaled, their eyes still locked. Her expression was one of pure joy. “My parents were hippies, too. Do you have all that great music around?”

  “Yep. And the posters. They still like incense and candles.”

  “Oh, yeah, and when the oldies come on…”

  “My dad still does a mean air guitar to anything by Jimmy Hendrix.”

  “I love listening to the Moody Blues. ‘Knights in White Satin’ sort of puts me in a dream state,” she said lightheartedly.

  “My mom still has her ticket stubs to a Beatles concert in LA.”

  “My mom has all the Avalon Ballroom posters, and the early Haight-Ashbury ones. What a time they lived through!”

  Her dancing eyes were so beautiful. He wanted to tell her so, but didn’t dare. “A lot of people don’t really understand those times. I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed some of the extracurricular activities my parents did, but I’m glad they had that time.” He searched her face, saw her nodding.

  “Like they had their whole life ahead of them. They were just being young and crazy, and they’d find their way eventually, but for then, during those times, they just wanted to live and to…”

  She stumbled on a word. He knew what that word was: Love. It was a good word to stumble on, because it meant she gave it consideration. Wasn’t a word that could be thrown about carelessly. He liked that about her.

  Now she was staring at her hands in her lap, thinking about something. He hoped he hadn’t said something wrong to make her pensive. Then he saw her eyes had filled up with tears, which worried him.

  “Hey, you okay?” He wanted to touch her, lift her chin, get as close to her face as she’d let him, but he stayed the seat distance between them. Something was definitely bothering her.

  “Doorways. I’m sensitive to doorways.”

  It was a strange phrase, and he wasn’t sure he understood her properly.

  “You are here,” she said with her right hand outstretched, palm up, “and then you go through this doorway and now you are different.” She demonstrated it by cupping her right palm and swishing it through the air, to mate with her left.

  “Changes. You are talking about life-altering changes.” He wanted to keep the conversation and her flow going.

  “Yes!” She looked up at him.

  “Things like getting married,” he whispered as he looked at her lips. He couldn’t help it. Nor could he help licking his.

  Why did he have to go bring that up? What kind of a stupid gene did he suddenly possess?

  “Exactly like getting married,” she said to her lap.

  And then he knew she had niggling doubts. She wasn’t rushing through the doorway to that new life. She was almost being pulled through it. Something was forcing her to step through that doorway. But he was fairly sure it wasn’t her heart.

  There was no way he would touch that. It wasn’t a place he belonged. It was someone else’s story. He pulled his eyes from her face and settled the seat back, staring up at the ceiling.

  “I must have said something wrong,” she said, her face once again cocked at an angle. She was watching his profile.

  “Nope.” He said, but he closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything but the granite between his legs.

  “I offended you, and I’m sorry.”

  “No. Nothing’s wrong. Just not a place I’ve ever been to before.” He thought maybe he sounded too harsh, so he turned to face her. “Hard for me to relate, is all. Never even got close to that step.”

  “I understand.”

  Were his ears playing tricks on him?

  “An important piece of advice?” she asked.

  He shrugged.

  “Don’t do it until you are sure, really sure.” She turned away and stared out the window.

  He watched the way her hands twisted in her lap, the gentle slope of her shoulders as they rounded so she could take a private moment, facing the window. Her silky brown hair with tendrils that curled at the back of her head where she’d brushed against the head rest. She was like a delicate flower he wished he could comfort. He had an intense desire to protect her from something she was headed for that clearly wasn’t good for her.

  But that wasn’t his decision to make.

  The stewardess was making rounds with coffee and water. Kate turned, and he could see her eyelashes were glistening wet. She ordered mineral water with lime. He ordered a beer.

  The plastic glass with ice cubes and lime floating on top was passed to him, and he in turn passed it to her, their fingers touching slightly. As they brushed against each other she glanced at him and then refocused on the little drink.

  Bringing it to her mouth, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of lime. He was turned on by the sheer pleasure in her face. All he could think about was what it would feel like to kiss her like the man she deserved. Like the man he wished he were.

  Chapter Three

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  She knew it was barely an hour flight to Portland. When the cart came around for more drinks, he bought another beer and asked for another mineral water with lime for her, without asking her first.

  He made her feel, in spite of how brief their conversation had been, he’d actually seen her in ways her fiancé Randy never had. Of course, he probably couldn’t miss her crunching all the ice. Just as she thought of it, he stopped the attendant to ask for another plastic tumbler of ice without liquid, and presented it to her with a Cheshire
cat grin followed by a wink.

  “You’re too cute. My nerves that obvious?” she asked.

  “As obvious as an RPG.” He must have seen her eyebrows lift. “Rocket Propelled Grenade,” he whispered as if it was a closely guarded secret.

  “So when I said something dangerous, I guess I could put the adjective very in front of that?”

  “Not today. And not most days.” He grinned at her. Nice, straight white teeth, those bright blue eyes that sucked her right into his psyche. She had the sudden need to be his erotic fantasy in every form.

  And what’s up with that? She never thought about sex when she talked with Randy. From the very beginning he’d been almost awkward around her, seemingly afraid to kiss her. She’d found it kind of sweet. In time, he grew on her.

  But compared to this man next to her—who was clearly a man and not a boy, even though Randy was five years older than she…her attraction was to the feral, pirate essence of Tyler, and not to the sweet side of anyone. Dangerous and more than a little risky.

  Her mind was going all sorts of places with this fantasy. It was a continuation of the excitement she felt every time she—what was that about, anyway? Every time she left Randy for a day trip, for anything longer than the time between breakfast and lunch or lunch and dinner? They were inseparable in Healdsburg. Every restaurant in town wanted their business, and they never had to pay for their meals, either. Just having them seated at a prominent table up front was an endorsement that would pay off big time, even if the restaurant didn’t carry the family wines.

  With this guy, she wanted a back room. Some place private, with oilcloth table covers and a waiter who would not interrupt them every thirty seconds to bring water or butter or ask them how their food tasted. Maybe she’d splurge on a margarita, or a jelly jar glass of Randy’s—

  How stupid of me!

  He’d been watching her and she’d been smiling ever since he gave her the ice, even when he talked about the thing he was obviously most comfortable about. So, she decided to use it to gain some surer footing.

  “So I’m going to make a guess you are military,” she said and crunched down on some ice.

  He nodded watching her mouth.

  “You’re special forces, I’m guessing.”

  He frowned but didn’t take his eyes off her mouth. God, if he tried to kiss me, I’d let him. Just to see what he tastes like.

  She had to look away, because she’d become aware their heads were heading toward each other. That was a very dangerous sign.

  Down below, green patches of ground were dusted with clouds resembling puffs of smoke. Ordinary, regimented life was going on right under her. And she was having an out-of-body experience with a hunky guy she didn’t really know.

  She heard him adjust his seat back and sigh. When she looked up, he’d closed his eyes and was perhaps slipping into a catnap.

  Good idea. She pushed the button on her seat, leaving the unfinished mineral water and ice on the tray in front of her, closed her eyes and tried to collect herself. Her head lolled to the side, and when she opened her eyes a crack, he was staring at her, at all the places he shouldn’t be staring. She watched him. Was he that starved for someone of the opposite sex? But he’d just come from San Diego. And he was off to the Middle East soon, he said. So surely there were girls after him in San Diego. Long-legged girls with long blonde hair, not brunettes from Santa Rosa who never got out in the sun.

  It was reflex that made her lick her own lips and then open her eyes. She took in the full measure of his gaze. He wasn’t casual, or matter of fact, though she suspected he spent most of the day practicing that persona. No, he was what she would have to call needy.

  She fully understood this. Because she was the same.

  Kate put her elbow against the back of the seat and propped her head to look at him. “So, you’re a soldier, and you’re going overseas.”

  “Yup.”

  “How long are you going to be home in Portland?” She didn’t look at his eyes, but examined the veined hands gently resting on what she could tell were powerful thighs encased in jeans. He didn’t wear a ring anywhere, but had bands of barbed wire and Celtic inkings all over his forearms, plus some tattooed frog prints that extended from his wrist to his elbow.

  “Five days,” he said.

  Five days. Why was that important? For starters, it was just enough time to get in trouble, and not enough time to get to know someone. But why was she even thinking that? Her life course was going in another trajectory, even though her body and perhaps part of her heart sensed there was someone else out there for her.

  Could she do this, marry Randy, when the sight of someone new stirred her so? Was that an indication perhaps of her second thoughts, disguised as some kind of sexual fantasy? Was it about being a bad girl, breaking out of her well-organized lifestyle, or the realization that she’d be chained to someone who might not bring her true happiness? Randy had worn her down. He hadn’t knocked her over. Would she grow tired of him the same way, and then regret something she didn’t do when she had the chance?

  No, she wasn’t that kind of girl. She’d accepted Randy’s loyalty and love when she accepted his ring, when she accepted that, though his kisses didn’t exactly curl her toes, there hadn’t been anyone else who did, either. She’d told herself that probably those kinds of guys didn’t really exist. Had that been the true fantasy?

  Probably not, since here was this guy, who wouldn’t answer her questions, who smiled like he knew what she looked like naked, who watched her and understood things Randy hadn’t noticed in months of non-stop dating. Wondering these things was hardly the right attitude to start a marriage. And it was hardly a reason to begin an affair she’d regret forever.

  “Okay, now it’s your turn. How long are you going to be in Portland?” His serious look was followed by a quick smile.

  “Three days. Just the long weekend. Have to get back to work on Tuesday.”

  “And you do something dangerous?” he asked.

  “Hardly…well, not unless you consider drunk tourists dangerous, anyway. I work at the salesroom at my fiancé’s family winery.”

  “Ah. Which winery is this?”

  “Heller Estate Wines. You probably haven’t heard of it. Good wines, but a small facility.”

  “I’m not much of a wine buff. I like beer.”

  “Actually, they’re starting a brewery there too. Big explosion in them all over Sonoma County.”

  “Like Portland?”

  She laughed at that one. “No. Not nearly, but we’re catching up. And we have better weather.”

  “That’s for sure. I can remember more than a few rainy days growing up. Very depressing days,” he said as he searched the aisle in front of him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a restroom break while I can.”

  “Good idea.” She didn’t have to ask, but he waited for her in the aisle, holding out his hand so she could grab it and extricate herself from the cramped seat. He walked behind her as they strolled to the center of the plane. She imagined he was checking her out. She noticed the looks other passengers gave her, thinking they were a couple. Part of her liked it.

  One restroom was available. He motioned for her to go first. After she was alone in the little cubicle she examined her face. Was this the face of a woman who was going to cheat on her fiancé with someone she barely knew?

  No. She couldn’t do that. This was just some healthy animal attraction, nothing more. Perhaps she was reading way too much into it, anyway. He probably wasn’t nearly as interested as she took him to be.

  Kate made it back to her seat, buckled in and waited for him to return. Nearly twenty minutes went by before he made his way from the cockpit. She heard laughter coming from the crew up front. Tyler nodded to the attendants who blushed at his attention. He whispered something to the young pretty blonde who had taken their drink order earlier and she nodded.

  She didn’t want to watch, but Kate couldn’t keep
her eyes off him. His wild blue eyes and bright smile, focused on her completely as he walked down the aisle like some kind of warrior prince, with that swagger that told her he could exaggerate it if he wanted to, but was trying to do “low profile.” He couldn’t help it. He was drawing attention from everywhere and all he was doing was being Tyler. Big, bulky, but all-muscle-and-sinew Tyler, with his hair hanging a little curly over his ears that had pinked up at the edges. Was he blushing a bit? At the attention?

  “I went through training with the engineer. He washed out during last phase of it.”

  “What kind of training was that?” she asked.

  “BUD/S. I heard it over the loudspeaker. How many MacConaghys are there who fly jets? I thought it was him, and I was right.”

  He was still chuckling. The pretty attendant leaned in front of him a little too close, Kate thought, extending her arm, practically putting her boob in Tyler’s face, and handed her another glass of ice.

  The blonde gave her a pert smile, followed by a “here you go.” Tyler watched her hips and butt cheeks all the way back to the forward cabin, like every other male who was close enough to the aisle to observe her undulating progress.

  Kate dove into the ice, tipping the plastic cup and spilling a couple of pieces onto her own chest, which Tyler quickly glanced at and then returned his eyes to the front of the plane. His smirk, still facing forward, widened as she ground her back molars on the ice. After getting a thorough brain freeze, she was satisfied and set the cup down. She didn’t care what they said about chewing on ice. She was not sexually frustrated, and anyone who thought so was sorely deranged.

  She looked at the romance novel sitting on the seat between them.

  “Is she a good writer?” Kate asked him.

  “Hard to judge. She loves writing them, though. A lot happier when she’s working.” He shook his head. “You don’t want to be around her when she’s not. And when she’s finishing a book. Those are two times I try to avoid.”