The aroma of the dinner Evan was cooking wafted across the open floor plan of her townhome to where she relaxed in the living room, and she smiled as she saw him shuffling around in her kitchen. His broad shoulders and muscular chest looked oh-so-tempting from here. Maybe she shouldn’t keep enjoying this second glass of wine. At the moment, he looked positively scrumptious. Almost enough to make her forget that she didn’t date younger men.
She could get used to a man cooking for her. Bringing her a glass of wine. Helping her with the groceries. So what if it was the middle of the week, late at night, and she had to be back at work at seven in the morning. This was pure heaven.
After a twelve-hour shift and two hours of unscheduled overtime, she’d finally left the hospital feeling exhausted and frazzled. Wiped out after her first day back. Swinging by the grocery store to grab a quick meal had seemed like the best possible option for the evening. That, and lots of chocolate. She’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she somehow hadn’t even noticed the two hundred plus pounds of solid muscle heading her way. Huh. Like most women wouldn’t notice a Navy SEAL headed straight for them.
Evan had nearly scared her to death in the parking lot. She’d jumped a mile high after he’d called out to her. After the recent incident with Rebecca’s stalker in her not-so-distant-memory, having a massive man dressed in dark clothes address her while she was out alone at night had sent shock and fear quaking right through her. The fact that Rebecca’s stalker was in jail didn’t completely settle her nerves—it just proved there were assholes like him out there. Luckily, she’d realized a moment later that it was Evan.
But still.
In those few seconds that it took her mind to play catch up with her body, she was frozen. Literally trembling in fright.
Evan realized he’d scared her, too. He’d been so sweet, gently caressing her arm as they’d stood there. Reassuring her. For a guy with such a macho, bad-ass career, he was pretty damn gentle when he wanted to be. When he was with her. Part of her had wanted to wrap her arms around his chest, hugging him tightly and feeling his solid warmth and muscular strength. Inhaling his scent.
But that would’ve been entirely inappropriate. Damn her sudden urges to only date men with husband potential. Flings were fun, easy. Evan was fun. And more tempting than she’d originally thought when they’d first met.
Still, when Evan had offered to cook dinner for her, she was too tired to argue. Too surprised to put up any sort of fight. Maybe there were a million reasons why she should’ve turned him down—the first of which being that he seemed very much into her. And try as she might, she was attracted to him. Maybe they could be two people who just had dinner together sometimes. Friends did that, right? The fact that she’d seen Evan more in the past few weeks than she’d seen other friends all summer didn’t mean anything.
She let her eyes drift shut for a minute as she relaxed back into the cushions. Her hot shower followed by a glass of wine was doing her in. The garlic and marinara scent of the spaghetti sauce permeated the room and made her mouth water. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute, dinner would be ready….
She must’ve actually fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, Evan was softly rustling her, trying to wake her up. She met his intense blue gaze, noticed the way his large frame crouched down beside her, and smiled. God, he was beautiful for a man. Handsome face, brilliant blue eyes…smoking hot body. She felt heat rising to her cheeks and was thankful she hadn’t uttered any of that aloud.
Maybe she should be embarrassed that she’d fallen asleep on her sofa while she had company over, but this was Evan. Things were easy with him. If he were a man she was trying to impress, she’d have been in the kitchen with him, flirting and sashaying around. But with Evan? She’d felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in her living room.
“Hey, Ali,” he said, his voice low. It soothed her just hearing it. The timbre was deep, comforting. The way his words washed over her reminded her of warm caramel. It was rich. Decadent. And she liked the way he called her Ali when he was being sweet and gentle with her. The rest of the time he always said Alison, but he’d called her Ali when she’d had her asthma attack and when he’d comforted her in the parking lot tonight. Did he even realize it?
For a brief moment, she wondered what he’d call her if they went to bed together. If he kissed her, teased and caressed her body, would he still call her the nickname he’d made up? Would he call her Alison or some other name reserved for intimate lovers? He had called her baby a few times, but that was more jokingly, like he’d been trying to lay on the charm.
No sense in even wondering how he’d address her if they ever ended up tangled in the sheets, because that was never ever going to happen. But still….
“Dinner’s ready,” he said, eyeing her closely.
She yawned. Stretched languorously. “Sorry I fell asleep.”
“No problem.” His eyes lit up with his smile. “You had a busy day.”
“Yeah. You could say that.”
He took her hand and helped her to her feet. “I had to spar with Patrick and Christopher all afternoon. Busy doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“I had to treat a pediatric burn victim.”
His face darkened. “You win.”
They walked over to the kitchen table, and Alison sank into a chair as Evan insisted he’d get her some food. He seemed proud of himself for cooking her a decent meal, so she went with it. That and the fact that she’d just woken up—carrying a plate of steaming hot spaghetti over to the table didn’t seem like the best move at the moment. “That’s a contest I never want to win,” she said with a sigh. “It’s just too damn sad.”
“I’ve seen a lot in my years in the Navy—but nothing is as hard as looking at an injured child. It eats me up inside to deal with monsters who’d hurt innocent women and children.”
Alison glanced up at Evan, seeing the anger cross his expression. He’d probably seen more than most guys his age. Heck, he’d probably seen a lot more than her.
She brushed some of her hair back from her face, taking a bite of the food. It tasted delicious, the Italian meatballs pairing perfectly with the spicy sauce. So what if it wasn’t completely from scratch. It was much better than the quick salad she’d intended to have.
She wondered how well Evan really knew Rebecca or her daughter. The whole team seemed to hold an affectionate spot in their hearts for the two of them—either because they’d all come together to protect Rebecca during the stalker incident or because she’d won over their hardened SEAL team member. Patrick’s nickname was “Ice,” after all. Which reminded her….
“Rebecca said Patrick’s nickname is Ice. Do you have some kind of crazy name, too?”
“Crazy?” His eyes sparked as he watched her.
“You know. Some macho, made-up SEAL name no one else knows about.”
Evan laughed, a deep hearty sound. It sounded loud in her normally quiet townhome, and Alison realized that she liked it. She liked his presence here, too, she had to admit to herself. Maybe even a little bit too much. He filled up physical space with his large frame, but his personality warmed her home as well. He was friendly and teasing. Caring. Tough. There were so many different sides to him, and a part of Alison longed to see all of them. To know all of Evan.
“All the guys end up with a nickname—either in BUD/S or sometime soon after when they become part of a SEAL team. It’s not exactly top secret stuff, though.”
Alison watched him, enjoying the grin on his handsome face. He had a bit of a five-o’clock-shadow tonight—not very prominent, since he had blond hair. The bit of scruff did manage to make him look older though. She decided she liked it. He stretched, gripping his muscular hands together as he flexed those massive arms. Evan was so, sooo the exact opposite of the last guy she’d dated. How had she ever thought she’d be interested in a buttoned-up accountant type?
Evan was daring and adventurous. His very job was one m
ost men could never hope to achieve. She wasn’t sure how many Navy SEALs there were, but it couldn’t have been a heck of a lot. Those tests were grueling—she knew that much. She expected guys like him to be cocky, arrogant. Maybe some of them were, she thought, recalling Brent. Evan was confident, yes, but not in an obnoxious way. He was comfortable in his own skin. Friendly. Although she had no doubt he would fight to the death to protect those he cared about, he didn’t go around flaunting his power or strength. It just was.
Starting anything with Evan would be a bad, bad idea. But how many men would cook dinner for a woman they barely knew when she’d already said they were just friends? Either he was just an extremely nice guy or else extremely confident that he’d somehow convince her to change her mind. Licks of heat coursed through her at the idea, and she thought of the many, many ways Evan could touch and caress her with those large hands. She bit her lip as she watched him.
“I’d give my left arm to know what you’re thinking right now,” Evan admitted, his voice rough.
“Nothing.” She couldn’t hide her smile.
“You’re trouble.” Evan smirked. His blue eyes danced as she met his gaze.
“Tell me about this nickname,” she said, taking a sip of her wine.
“Oh, it’s nothing too cool. The guys call me ‘Flip.’”
“Flip?”
“Yeah. I was a swimmer when I was younger—lifeguard, too. You couldn’t keep me out of the water. Anyway, one weekend before BUD/S we all went cliff diving.”
“Cliff diving?”
“Yeah, out in California. It’s kind of a daredevil, thrill-seeker type of thing. Mostly for the young and foolish. We’d hike up these massive cliffs out there—the view was pretty spectacular. Then we’d line up, jump off the edge, and land in the ocean.”
She looked at him in horror, and he grinned. “Not an adrenaline junkie, huh?”
“Definitely not.”
“Yeah, it might not be good with your asthma anyway.”
“Evan—”
“Yeah, yeah. Back to my story. Cliff diving is dangerous, but that’s part of the fun. The rush. I’m not dumb enough to try it anymore, but hell, I was young then. And don’t get me wrong—the thrill of it was exhilarating. Some of the other guys jumped off, shouting and howling as they landed in the water below. I decided that I had to show them up. Why jump off a cliff when I could dive or do some trick?”
“You did a flip.”
“I somersaulted through the air. One of the craziest things I’ve ever done, because I could’ve hit my head on the rocks.”
“You could’ve hit your entire body on the rocks—splat.”
“Yeah, guess so.”
At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish. “We see injuries in the hospital all the time from people being reckless. That’s dangerous, Evan.”
He chuffed out a laugh. “I’m a Navy SEAL, Ali. My entire career is dangerous.”
She frowned as his words washed over her. He was right. Cliff diving was probably one of the least dangerous things he’d done in his lifetime. Those guys deployed to God-knows-where, fighting dangerous enemies, getting right in the line of fire. She didn’t even know what he did—couldn’t—because it was so highly classified. Fighting with drug lords, terrorists, and insurgents was probably par for the course in the line of duty.
The idea of Evan in harm’s way didn’t sit well with her.
“Are you worried about me?” he asked, cocking his head.
“Well, yeah.” Her stomach flipped as she met his gaze. Butterflies that hadn’t been there earlier let loose when he looked at her that way. He reached across the table and clasped her hand, his thumb running over her knuckles. Shockwaves rocked through her at his gentle touch. His hand looked so large holding her own, but somehow it was gentle. Reassuring.
She swallowed nervously, sparks sizzling through her entire body. For a moment, she imagined those hands running all over her heated skin. Touching her. Caressing her. Kneading her breasts. Trailing across her stomach as they went lower….
“Don’t be,” Evan said, flashing an easy grin. She snapped out of her daze, pulling her hand back before she did anything she’d really regret. “It’s dangerous, yes, but we’re well trained. That’s why I’m so exhausted that I can barely move tonight. We train hard and fight harder.”
“And then you came over and fixed me dinner,” she said, her voice soft.
He met her gaze. “I like you.”
She swallowed nervously. His words were so right, but that didn’t negate the fact that he was all wrong. “Evan, thanks for making us dinner, but I think you should go.” She felt pinpricks of tears and abruptly stood, dropping her napkin onto the table. “It just wouldn’t work between us.” She wouldn’t let herself date another man who she had no future with. The fact that she was already developing feelings for Evan just showed that she needed to end whatever this was. Now.
“Ali,” Evan said, his voice gruff.
She was already exiting the kitchen, crossing through the living room. Her mind whirled from the wine, the late hour, and the heat that had been coursing through her ever since Evan had taken her hand at dinner. The pad of his thumb skimming ever-so-slightly over her knuckles had practically made her shiver in delight. Why did his touch always feel so damn good?
Evan was hot on her heels, easily catching up to her with his long strides. She felt a tightness constricting her chest. They reached the door, his large frame towering behind hers. How ironic that she’d initially been frightened of him in the parking lot. In many ways, she’d never felt so safe or at ease as when she was with Evan. He’d never let anything hurt her. The problem was, who would protect her from him? There was no way she could survive another catastrophic failure of a relationship. No way her heart could heal from another hurt like that.
As she reached for the doorknob, Evan caught her hand. Warmth spread through her where his large fingers encircled her wrist. She glanced up at him, confused, and her lips parted.
“Give me a chance,” he commanded, his voice low. He released her wrist and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. The heat from his fingertips left a trail of warmth across her skin. “Let me take you out this weekend. On an actual date.”
“We can’t.”
He took a step closer as she stepped back, and he rested his large hands above her on the door, effectively caging her in. His broad chest was inches away, his muscular arms trapping her. He was tall and strong. Virile. The scent of him surrounded her, made her dizzy with want and desire. She tilted her head up to look into those searing blue eyes. They searched hers, penetrated her thoughts, seemed to know all of her secrets.
“Because we’re just friends,” he said.
He ducked his head lower, and she tried desperately to play it cool, to act unaffected and blasé, but her body betrayed her. Her nipples tightened under her thin top. Her breathing hitched. Heat began to pool in her core.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Because I’m too young for you,” he said softly, inching closer to her still. Warmth washed over her skin, and she was certain she was about to spontaneously combust. Flames licked through her body, racing faster and faster until her whole body was alight with awareness. Heat coiled in her abdomen, spiraling down until arousal dampened her panties and she ached for his touch. She couldn’t move from where he’d trapped her against the door. Couldn’t run from him.
Part of her didn’t want to.
“Yes,” she breathed.
Slowly, seductively, like he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist, his mouth moved inches away from hers. Their heat intermingled; for a moment, she wasn’t sure where she stopped and Evan began. She felt her intake of breath as her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She shut her eyes. He was close. Too close. Not nearly close enough.
Then his lips brushed against hers. They were soft and gentle. Warm. Full. She let out a small moan of pleasure, and Evan took control of the kiss
. His hands still rested above her on the door as he bent his large frame down to kiss her. He’d caged her in, yet the only parts of their bodies that touched were their mouths. His words, his actions, everything he did had her helpless with wanting him.
She longed for more contact, for him to crush his hard body into her. She needed to feel the muscles in his broad chest pressing against her swollen breasts, his thick erection against her belly.
She needed his hands all over her.
She opened her mouth to him, clutching his tee-shirt with shaking fists. His tongue dipped into her mouth, and he tasted of wine and spicy marinara. Of something darker and distinctively male. He kissed her slowly, leisurely, his tongue dancing with hers like he had all the time in the world. Like he could spend all night exploring her mouth. How he had so much damn control she didn’t know. It felt like a fire was racing through her body, sparking every last nerve ending in awareness of Evan’s presence.
As she trembled against the door, he finally pulled back. The only thing betraying his casual demeanor was the arousal in his blue eyes. They were darker than she’d ever seen. “I need to have you tonight, Ali. Fuck, I need to make you come, hear you cry out my name, and bury myself so deep inside you that neither of us can tell where I stop and you begin.”
Chapter 11
“Yes,” she pleaded, finally giving him the answer he was so desperate to hear. His body craved her. He need to take her to bed, claim her, and make her his own. He needed his name on her lips, his cock deep inside her, and his scent all over her skin. He could kiss and pleasure her all night long. Fuck the early morning training. He’d stay as long as she’d have him, as long as it took for both of them to be thoroughly sated.
“Ali,” Evan murmured, bending down and lifting her into his arms. She was small and completely perfect for him. Her lips were swollen, ripe from his kisses. Her cheeks were flushed. And the way she gazed up at him right now? Hell. He’d do just about anything to see her look at him that way every day for the rest of their lives.
SEALed with a Kiss (Alpha SEALs Book 2) Page 8