His face darkens as his eyes rake my body. “I can’t take you, but I can go up with you. You’d have to go tandem with a jump master. I don’t have that qual.”
I laugh. “You say it like it’s a crime. I was just wondering. Taking an interest in the new ventures of my airport, that’s all.”
“I wish I could take you,” he replies, snaking an arm out to pull me close. “I’ll work on getting that qualification now that we’ll be jumping on a regular basis, okay? Then I can take you.”
His arms are enormous, swallowing every inch of skin they touch.
“You don’t trust Aiden?” I ask. Tahoe’s arms stiffen, his whole body rigid with tension. It’s confusing. “You’d jump tandem with him, right? Aren’t you guys sort of like, the best in the world at what you do? Skydiving included?”
He softens a little. “I don’t trust you with anyone except me.”
“Why?” That womanly tact begins crawling out, hoping for praise and compliments. It’s an uncontrollable urge because of him. “You think he might crash land?” I tease.
He shivers. An honest to God shiver. “No,” he growls. “He would never.”
“What are we talking about here? I was joking.”
Tahoe grits his teeth as his hands clamp tighter on my waist. “I trust in his ability to do his job. I don’t trust him with a woman. Especially not with you,” he says.
Jealousy. It feels so good. The ultimate in compliments, really. “I’ll wait for you to get the qualification then. So, if we crash land it can be all your fault. Not your friends.” Twining my hands around his neck, I see his stress ease at my touch.
He pushes me back so he can look me square on, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Please, Caroline. Now it’s a challenge. I’m going to have to scare the life out of you to prove a point. It’s going to be one step before crash landing.”
“That’s rude.” Releasing him, I fold my arms across my chest.
He quirks one brow. “You question my skill. That’s rude.”
“It’s not even a skill you have…yet,” I fire back, smiling. “You’re not a jump master.”
Tahoe’s hands slip down my waist and around to my ass. “Right now I want to show you a few of my other skills.”
“Kitchen demo? I hate to burst your bubble but I have that skill, too,” I tease. His gaze is fire as he watches my mouth while I speak. Wetting his lips, he swallows hard, his grip firm against my backside. “Not impressed with that,” I add, egging him on. “What else do you have for me? What skill?”
His eyes spark open wide, then he nods slowly. “Something you’ll never forget, Sunny.”
It’s a threat. One I willingly accept without offense. The sunlight has all but vanished since our conversation began and now there’s just the low light from a chandelier with two working bulbs. It’s easy to have more confidence than I should, in the dark, with his hands owning me the way they are right now, so I press my mouth to his. The response is immediate and real—the lighting of a fire that has never been here before. He pulls me into his lap and the bulge between his legs is so mountainous I inhale sharply.
“You’re feeling one of my skills right now,” Tahoe says, nuzzling his face into my neck.
The scruff on his cheeks and chin scrape against my neck.
“Isn’t that more of a gift than a skill?” I ask, my voice breaking. Caroline May doesn’t play games like this—she doesn’t play games at all. Against his lips, I steer away, “Why do you call me Sunny? You think I’m the sun? My sunny disposition?”
I feel his grin against my skin. “A touch more morbid than that,” he admits, bringing his hands up to hold my face in place as he works his mouth against mine for a beat or two. “The earth would die without the sun,” he growls, then looks me directly in the eye. “Sunny.”
I do die a little inside, right at this moment. At least the little girl with dreams of a man sweeping her off her feet swooned.
Tahoe groans, and pushes me out of his lap, with that look in his eye that turns my stomach upside down. Now that I understand what it means, I know I’ve seen it many times in the past month. Dozens of times, when I mistook it for irritation, or annoyance. It seems I’m as delusional and blind as my friends say I am.
A loud bang on the front door sends both of us across the room. Instinctively, he pushes me behind him with a straight arm before he opens the door with the other. “I saw your bikes when I was driving by. Just wanted to stop in,” Shirley says, peeking at me around Tahoe’s body. “What are you guys up to? Congratulations by the way,” Shirley says, focusing on him instead of me. “You have some big balls. Buying this place. Man!”
“Shirley,” I cry. “Stop it!”
Tahoe chuckles and opens the door wide enough for my friend to slip through. Shrugging, she says, “He does! Whether he knows it or not. Don’t be such a prude, Caroline,” she says, and then licks her lips. “I was congratulating him on purchasing another piece of Bronze Bay.”
He raises one brow. “Another piece?” he asks, a half smirk pulling the corner of his mouth.
Shirley cranes her neck to look at me and lets her gaze float back to Tahoe. “Yeah,” she replies.
“Oh, my God! I’m right here!” Suddenly, I don’t want Shirley meddling in my love life, or lack thereof. “Humans can’t be purchased!” I shout, throwing my hands up.
Tahoe’s smile fades to something more somber. “They are, though.” He runs a hand through his hair, the tattoos under his biceps peek from his shirt.
Shirley and I both look at him, with what I’m sure is the standard, horrified expression. I’m reminded of what he is. What he’s capable of.
“I closed with your mama tonight. She mentioned you two are having dinner up on the hill tomorrow,” Shirley says, doing her best impression of me, trying to wield the power of the southern topic change.
I’m still thinking about what it is Tahoe does when he’s working—the things he’s been exposed to that I have no clue about. He responds to Shirley’s statement by making a joke about the house on the hill, and confirms the plans. I wasn’t nervous about the dinner. Not until now. What if they ask him what he does? Will he answer in generic code words to hide the truth?
They continue to talk and I don’t chime in until I hear a lull in conversation. “You going to the spot tonight?” Sometimes they have parties on weekday nights if the weather is nice.
“Yeah,” Shirley replies, picking at her fingernail polish. “Caleb was pretty pissed tonight so I asked if he wanted to go with.” She meets my eyes, and I understand why he’s pissed.
“Oh,” I reply, swallowing hard. “I was just about to head home. We were finishing up,” I explain, motioning to the kitchen. “Deciding what should happen in there.”
“They still got the ugly olive appliances?” Shirley asks.
Tahoe sighs, nodding. “Yep. Pepto Bismal tile in the bathroom, too.”
“Caroline can give you the heads up with all of the local stores. The appliance store downtown doesn’t have much of a selection, but he can order most anything you want. Everyone ordering stuff online these days really is a buzzkill for stores like that,” she explains. “Making peace after buying a portion of town history is a good choice.” Holding a hand out with a takeout bag. “Dessert.” Shirley thrusts the bag into my hand.
Narrowing my eyes, I examine the bag. “Oh, I saw your bike and decided to stop in,” I mock. “You’re such a liar. I knew better, Shirley.”
She laughs. “Fine, you caught me, but I did come bearing gifts.” I peek in the bag to find two slices of my mama’s famous peach pie. “I’ll see you later, Care.” She glances at Tahoe, and instead of bidding him farewell, she growls like a tiger, a throaty, embarrassing noise.
Closing the door behind her, I spin on Tahoe. He’s ready for me, hands on his hips. “Don’t beat around the bush,” he says, tilting his head to one side. “Give it to me.”
“What do you do when you’re not training?
You’ve told me bits and pieces here and there,” I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “This is a simple town filled with people who up until now, haven’t been exposed to,” I say, swallowing and waving an arm to his beastly, prominent frame, “your kind. Don’t get me wrong, I know we need you and I appreciate what you do for our country, but you can’t tell my parents the truth.”
He stalks forward, his smile slipping into something more comfortable. “What are you asking, Caroline?” He licks his lips, and my confidence falters.
Looking left and right I avoid his piercing gaze. “You’ve killed people? Like, what happens in the movies?”
He laughs, a short burst. “Yes. Are you asking if I’ll go into gory detail about the details of my job with your parents? You’re worried about dinner?”
“Sort of, I guess. So, you have killed people?” It’s like a swift punch. You expect it, so you flex your stomach, but it will still take your breath away regardless.
Closing his eyes, he folds his arms across his chest. “Bad people are killed. Yes. I have killed bad people. I’ll never lie to you. If you ask me something I’ll tell you the truth, but sometimes you won’t want to hear it.”
“Right, yes. I can see that. Bad people. Yes. That makes sense. And you’re okay with that?” I’m rambling. Even if my ears hear it, my brain isn’t doing anything to fix it. “I assumed that, do you kill a lot of people?” I throw my hands to the side and weigh them up and down like I’m an awkward human scale.
Tahoe heaves a sigh. “I’m not a paid assassin. It’s not my whole job. The fact of the matter is SEALs have a lot of skills that are useful when you are trying to kill a bad person, so by proxy, killing happens. People who purchase humans,” he says, a knowing look on his face. “Evil men who want to hurt those you love. Terrorists. ”
I nod violently, slipping my hands into the oversized pockets of my overalls. “Of course.”
Tahoe reaches a hand out and grabs my chin. “Look at me,” he orders.
I focus on his beautiful blue eyes and breathe. He’s different. That’s not a bad thing. Is it? I knew this from the start. Even the village idiot knows Navy SEALs kill people. He grins when he sees me fitting the pieces together. “I’ll never hurt you. Is that what you’re worried about?” he asks.
I think about his hand. The fingers touching my face. How many lives has he taken with the same body parts caressing me right now? He didn’t answer the question purposely. I don’t want to know. Not really, anyways. The bubble I’ve resided in my entire life has been popped. Not just a pinprick either, with a warhead missile.
The dimple on his cheek deepens and I focus on that. A smile he surely doesn’t wear when he’s taking lives. “I know you won’t hurt me,” I whisper. “You are something entirely different and that is a little scary.”
Everything about his demeanor softens with my reply. “I won’t tell your parents anything that would be construed as gory or detailed,” he says, laying a hand on his chest. “My parents don’t know any of that either, and my dad is military. Caroline, it’s not like I keep lines in my bedpost to mark each occasion.”
“Of course not. That would be weird,” I retort, swallowing hard. “Do you keep notches in your bedpost to keep track of…anything else?” I can’t help how quickly my mind flits back to sex.
My question garners a full-blown smile accompanying a laugh. “Are you asking how many women I’ve had sex with?” He’s completely amused, cheeks pink and grin calculating.
Embarrassed, I turn away. “I guess,” I reply. He’s already caught on to so much. Because of things my friends told me in the past, I always assumed men would be clueless—oblivious to the ways a woman is capable of asking for information. Tahoe destroyed almost every single pre-conceived notion I’ve ever had about expectations. He knows everything.
When he doesn’t reply straight away, I ask, “Or is that something I don’t want to know either?”
Clearing his throat, I can see indecision light his eyes. “I’m not sure of the number. That’s an honest answer.”
Accepting his answer is easy. It’s truth. Tough because how does a person lose count? “You’re not staying here tonight, right?”
He shakes his head. “Want me to ride you home?” A corner of his mouth pulls up.
“It’s the opposite direction of your apartment,” I say. “I’ll be fine riding home by myself.”
“There’s no way I’m letting my girlfriend ride home by herself in the dark. If we were back in San Diego I’d drive you home in my truck. The nice one you didn’t get a chance to see. The one I had to sell to come here.”
I back toward the door. “We’re in Bronze Bay. Or did you forget?” I ask. Tahoe moves around the room hitting light switches and grabs the ring of keys off the center table. After he locks up the front door and the gate we set off on our bicycles toward the airport.
The crickets chirp out their night song, and the stars shine brightly in the vast sky above us as the light on my bike illuminates the road in front of us.
He tells me stories about his travels as we ride. I’ll ask questions when something comes up I don’t understand. The stars look a little smaller by the time I’m parking my bike in the rack next to my airplane hangar—the sky, once the only freedom I’ve ever known, a little more suffocating. “Here’s the thing,” Tahoe says, parking his bike next to mine. My stomach flips when I think about him walking me inside. “I’ve been trying to come up with a proper explanation that isn’t…offending. Kissing you was sort of like playing just the tip,” he says, smirking.
“What’s just the tip?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him through the dark.
“Caroline,” he growls, moving closer, until the flood light shines on his face. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Familiar territory now. “Yeah. Of course. Joking,” I say, rolling my eyes, hoping he can see it.
His neck works as he swallows. “You understand why I can’t kiss you goodnight for more than a second then. Not while we’re this close to your house. With a door that can lock. Your bed.”
Instead of waiting, I close the distance between our bodies and kiss him. If I wait any longer, he’ll see the hesitation and the innocence I’m trying so desperately to hide. His fingers twine around me and I shudder in pleasure. He moves his mouth against mine, his tongue dancing with mine, his hardness pressing into my stomach. “We could go upstairs,” I utter against his lips.
His lips brush mine as he shakes his head no. “I got you something,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well I snagged it from the dermo bin at work when I couldn’t get ahold of you. It’s where we toss gear and electronics when we’re finished using them, or when new stuff arrives and we upgrade.”
“Oh,” I ask, leaning away. Sliding one hand into his pocket, he produces a small, older model cell phone. “It will work no matter where you are. I know you don’t want to be tethered to a cell phone, but this can send and receive text messages. It will be helpful while we’re working on the house,” he explains, stepping away from me. When I make a move to approach, he puts a hand out. “Just the tip, Caroline. I have to leave,” he says. “Right. Now.”
“I don’t really need this,” I tell him, holding up the weird square phone. Everyone has one so I recognize what it is, and technology isn’t foreign to me, but it’s odd being reachable at any given point. “We could use the home phone.”
“My house won’t have a home phone. Most people’s homes don’t have home phones,” he says, mounting his bike.
I laugh. “It looks like you’re going to break that bike,” I say.
His response is a wide grin, and then, “Better than breaking you.”
“Text me,” he says. “Have a good night, Sunny.” He rides off into the dark after he watches me go inside and lock the door.
I look at the device laying in my palm and squeal like a little girl.
Chapter Eleven
Tahoe
“I have t
o do it,” I say, a sheen of sweat cropping up across my hairline. Leif is on the other end of the phone. “Can I leave next week?” I have dinner with Caroline’s parents tonight and I really, really don’t want to miss it. We’ve jumped out of the airplane about eight times today. It was the stress relief I’ve needed. It’s the adrenaline I’ve craved. My muscles are coiled hard and my mindset is intense.
“Yeah, next week shouldn’t be a problem,” Leif says, rattling off details about the mission I’m needed on. One of my brother’s in San Diego has business to attend to and I’m needed to go fill in for him. It should be a quick mission—one that is in and out, and has me back to Bronze Bay in a few weeks. They’re confident I’ve had enough time away to jump back into the game if only for a bit. My shooting is still top notch, and if anything, my mind is clearer now than it’s ever been. As Leif tells me about the terrorist quad we’re hunting in N.Y.C., I let my gaze trace the vast landscape of the airport until I see her. She’s been ghosting around all day—staying out of our way almost completely. She’s wearing that fucking white dress and a pair of Converse sneakers, her hair up in a massive bun on top of her head, arms full of some sort of metal piece that looks half the size of her body. Aidan rushes to help her carry the part the rest of the way into a hangar. She lets him.
“Three weeks, you said?” I ask, when there’s a lull on the other end of the line.
He grunts. “Yeah, maybe longer, but you saw the intel last week. They can’t have moved very far.” When Leif called today, I knew exactly who they were going after. We may be on the opposite coast, living in small town, U.S.A. but they do a good job of keeping us up to speed. “It will be a quick flight from Bronze Bay, so you can leave any time of the day, really, especially now that we have our planes and pilot there,” Leif explains. After a beat or two he adds, “You’re going to miss your puppy. Awww.”
“Shut the fuck up, Leif,” I retort. “I can’t wait to get back in it. I’ve been out of the game so long.”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t having the time of your fucking life here. With her,” he throws back. “You are constantly smiling like a lunatic and your testosterone levels are at an all-time low. Don’t fuck up again. Before, it was because you were overworked. Now, it would be because you’re underworked and underfucked,” he says, changing our conversation completely. Not for long, I muse. Readjusting the parachute harness caging my chest, I look back at the hangar. Aidan and Caroline are laughing about something. Her white smile visible from here, and Aidan’s body language says everything. He touches her arm before bending over to touch a part on whatever the fuck thing Caroline is working on. “Fuck you, Leif,” I mutter, then click off the call.
Keeping It: A Navy SEAL meets Virgin Romance Page 11