by Paige Tyler
“I hope Dana’s okay,” she said. “She was really upset when I called her. It’s bad enough Marco screwed me over, but Dana gave Marco her heart, and he stomped on it without a second thought. I don’t know how he could do that to her.” She dropped her head back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “I wish I could understand why he did it. Why, when everything was going so well in his life?”
Trent didn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally spoke, his voice was soft, gentle. “Marco headed down this path a long time ago, Lyla. Maybe it’s as simple as him not knowing how to find his way back? You tried to be there for him, but at the end of the day, he was the only one who could take the final step. I guess he simply couldn’t do it.”
Lyla knew he was right, but it still stung like crazy. She’d really believed in her heart that Marco had changed, that he’d gotten his crap together and was finally heading in the right direction. It hurt to think he’d been playing her all along.
“Do you think he’s going to end up in jail again?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
“Probably,” Trent said, then added, “If he’s lucky.”
She turned her head to the side to look at him. There was a sadness in his eyes she’d never seen before. He was hurting, too, she realized.
Lyla sat up straighter, half turning to face him. “I’m sorry I dragged you all the way out here. You risked your life today, thinking we were helping Marco, and it was all for nothing.”
He considered that for a moment then his mouth curved. “It wasn’t all for nothing. I got a chance to see you again.”
She snorted. “Big whoop. I’m the one who had you going into the club to talk to Cobb. I almost got you shot.”
“I get shot at all the time,” he said with a chuckle that had her smiling regardless of the insanity of his words. “Trust me, it’s much more fun going through it for a beautiful woman than for some guy calling out orders over the radio.”
She shook her head, not immune to the fact he’d called her beautiful. “You know that’s crazy, right?”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug.
The movement drew her attention to his broad shoulders and muscular pecs flexing intriguingly under his T-shirt. She should have been totally focused on the fact her brother was working for a major drug dealer again and would almost certainly end up back in prison—or worse, dead. Instead, she was thinking about how delicious Trent was. Perhaps she was simply in denial and purposely distracting herself with his sexy body so she wouldn’t have to deal with how screwed up her brother was right now.
“Seriously, though.” She lifted her gaze to meet his vibrant blue eyes. “You did risk your life for me—and Marco. I owe you. I’m just not sure how you’re supposed to repay someone for something like that.”
He lifted his hand to gently push her hair back from her face. The brush of his fingers against her skin made her tummy quiver, and she stifled a moan. “And I’m just as serious when I say you don’t owe me anything. I came out here of my own free will because I wanted to help you. Having a chance to reconnect with you more than covers the cost of having two big muscle heads try to thump on me.”
Again, that was totally crazy, but she wasn’t going to try and convince him otherwise anymore. She was simply thrilled he thought it was true, and left wondering at all the ways things could have been different between them.
“So, what are your plans now that we know Marco is safe? Well, alive, at least,” she asked. “Will you be heading back to San Diego in the morning?”
A sexy smile slowly spread across his face. “You that eager to get rid of me? What, do I snore or something?”
She laughed. “No. I just figured since there wasn’t anything keeping you here, you’d want to head home.”
His gaze swirled with sudden heat, making her stomach do that silly quivering thing again. “I wouldn’t say there’s nothing keeping me here. Besides, I have two weeks’ worth of leave to burn so it’s not like I have to rush back.”
Lyla tried to play it cool, though, with the way he was looking at her, she couldn’t keep her heart from beating a little bit faster. “Yeah, no need to rush back, I guess. If you have to take leave anyway. You could spend some time with your family since you’re here. Maybe take in a San Antonio Missions baseball game.”
“Or I could just hang out with you, making up for lost time,” he murmured, sending her heart rate skyrocketing.
Trent leaned in a little closer as he spoke, looking way hotter than any man had a right to. She wet her lips.
“Yeah, you could do that, too,” she said softly.
Lyla didn’t expect this thing between them—whatever it was—to go anywhere. She couldn’t deny she was very attracted to Trent, and she got the idea he was into her, too. If he ended up staying here for two weeks while on leave, she had no doubt it would be fun, with a good portion of that time likely spent wearing very little or no clothing. But it wouldn’t go beyond that. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could do the long-distance relationship thing
“Unless...” Trent added, leaning in a little more.
“Unless...what?” she prompted.
Would it be too forward of her to grab him by the shirt and yanked him in for a kiss? Probably. Not that she’d ever do it anyway. She didn’t have the nerve to pull something like that off. The thought was nice, though.
“Unless you really need your futon back,” he finished, moving another inch closer but still keeping his distance. Like he was waiting for her to make a move.
“No,” she said, licking her lips. “My futon is yours as long as you’d like to use it. Unless...”
Now it was his turn to be taken by surprise, something Lyla enjoyed seeing more than she would have imagined.
“Unless...what?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he moved closer still.
“Unless you can think of someplace else you’d like to sleep,” she told him, leaning in this time, hoping he’d take the hint.
He did, his lips so close to hers she could feel his warm breath on her face. “I can definitely think of someplace else I’d like to sleep.”
Lyla was about to ask him to elaborate, but his mouth came down on hers. His tongue slipped inside, teasing hers and making her moan. Trent weaved the fingers of one hand into her long hair, holding her captive as he kissed her deeper. A tingle started just south of her tummy and quickly spread through her whole body.
She slipped her hand into his short hair and thrust her tongue into his mouth, giving as good as she got, pleased when he groaned. The husky sound turned her on more, and she felt a delicious heat beginning to build between her legs.
Lyla released her hold on his hair to slide along his strong shoulders and down over his rippling pecs. Damn, he was built under that shirt. It took a supreme effort of will to keep from yanking it up so she could get her hands—and maybe her mouth—on all those muscles.
She restrained herself—barely—content for the time being to caress his body through his shirt. When her hands got restless and tried to move lower, she dragged it back up and told it to behave. Not that she minded simply sitting there making out with Trent.
That was why she moaned in complaint when he stopped kissing her and pulled away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He shook his head, his mouth edging up. “Nothing. I simply don’t want to rush this. You don’t mind, do you?”
She smiled, secretly pleased for some silly reason that made no sense at all. “I’m good with taking our time. But if we’re not going to sit here and make out, what else did you want to do?”
He lifted a brow. “Order pizza?”
She blinked then laughed. She couldn’t help it. His response was so completely out of left field she had no other choice.
“You are such a complete...guy,” she said. “You know that?”
He grinned and waggled his brows, making her stomach do backflips, twists, and somers
aults. “Yeah, I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Chapter Five
“SO, YOU STILL using the SEALs as an excuse to avoid getting a real job?” Trent’s father reached across the table for the plastic container of carved lunch meat. Though he was nearing sixty, Bruce Wagner was still as fit as he’d been when Trent was a kid, without a trace of gray in his dark hair.
“Bruce!” his mother said in a warning tone as she took a pitcher of her famous freshly made iced tea from the refrigerator. “You stop that right this minute. Your son came all the way home to see us, and I’m not going to let you ruin his visit with your incessant nagging. If you can’t behave, you can take your sandwich out to the barn and eat lunch with the horses.”
Trent’s mouth twitched. At the head of the table, his father looked properly chastised, regardless of the fact he was a huge man of six foot three and his blond-haired wife was barely five feet tall. But no one messed with Darlene Wagner, not when it came to her children. Not even his dad.
“Something tells me he didn’t fly home to Texas to see us,” his father grumbled, glancing at Lyla as he began layering slices of turkey and cheese on his sourdough roll.
Trent’s mother came over to the table, filling the tall glasses in front of each of them with iced tea. “I know that, Bruce. I might be short, but I’m not stupid. He’s home now so I’m not going to complain, and you won’t either, if you know what’s good for you.”
Trent’s dad muttered something under his breath but kept any other opinions to himself as he reached for the mayo. Smart man.
Beside Trent, Lyla hid her smile in her iced tea glass as his mother took a seat at the opposite end of the table from his father.
While Trent had intended to visit his family at some point, he hadn’t planned to do it today, but Lyla had talked him into it. He would have preferred to stop by her parents and tell them about Marco, but Lyla wanted to put that off for a while. He’d agreed, but only if she came with him to see his parents. Considering he was a Navy SEAL who went up against some of the scariest, meanest bad guys out there, it was embarrassing to need someone to act as a buffer between him and his parents. He’d figured there was no way his father would nag him about getting out of the military in front of Lyla. He was wrong.
Trent hadn’t counted on his mother shipping him and Lyla the moment they walked in the door together, though. Heck, she was probably already fitting Lyla for a wedding dress.
As he slathered mayo on his sandwich then took a big bite, Trent looked around the big eat-in kitchen with its modern stainless-steel appliances juxtaposed against old country charm. Despite how reluctant he’d been to come over, he couldn’t deny he’d missed his childhood home. He had a lot of wonderful memories of growing up here. With a house full of brothers and sisters, hundreds of acres of land to roam around on, and fields full of horses and cows, he couldn’t imagine a better place to grow up on than a ranch.
That said, he still wasn’t ready to ditch the SEALs and become a rancher. After leaving San Antonio, seeing other parts of the world and experiencing a lot of different things, running a ranch wasn’t for him. He wished his family could understand that.
At the head of the table, his father regarded him thoughtfully. “You never answered my question, son. You planning on getting out of the Navy soon?”
“Bruce,” his mother said in a low tone, the warning clear.
“What?” He looked at his wife. “Can’t I ask my own son what his plans are for the future? It’s not like he can keep doing that SEAL stuff the rest of his life. That’s a youngster’s game.”
His mother sighed in obvious exasperation.
“It’s okay, Mom. I don’t mind,” Trent said. “The answer is no, Dad. I’m not planning to get out of the Navy anytime soon. I enjoy what I’m doing. When I retire, I’ll most likely get a job that uses the skills I picked up in the Navy, maybe as an instructor at the school.”
His father scowled. “What’s wrong with running the ranch? Or are you too good for ranching?”
Trent cursed silently. This was why he hadn’t wanted to come over here. Because he knew how the visit would go. He loved his parents to death, and he knew they only wanted the best for him, but his father wasn’t above trying to guilt him into getting out of the Navy to help run the ranch. That wasn’t to say his mother didn’t have her agenda as well. She might be more subtle about it, but she wanted him to move back home, settle down, and give her more grandkids. As if she didn’t have enough already.
“No, I’m not too good for ranching, Dad,” he said. “I’m just not interested in it. I like being a SEAL. I’ve told you that before.”
About a hundred times.
His father frowned, and Trent prepared himself for the same old lecture about the values of hard work and keeping the ranch in the family. Not that it wasn’t staying in the family already since Trent’s three older brothers and two older sisters helped run the place.
“So, how did you and Lyla run into each other in San Diego?” his mother asked, interrupting her husband before he could get started.
The question was accompanied by a distinct thud from under the table, and Trent was pretty sure his mother had booted her husband in the shin. His father didn’t visibly react—he was too tough for that—but his old man did stick a sock in it, which was all mom was going for.
“Actually, we didn’t run into each other,” Lyla admitted, successfully hiding another smile that threatened to slip out. “I went out to San Diego and asked him to come back here and help me out find Marco. My brother disappeared for a few days, and I got worried.”
His father frowned. “Is Marco okay? I know he got himself into some trouble a while back.”
Understatement there, Trent thought.
At breakfast this morning, Trent and Lyla had discussed whether they should tell anyone about what Marco had gotten himself into. Lyla insisted it wasn’t their job to keep her brother’s stupidity hidden from the world. Marco had made his decision, and he’d have to live with it.
Lyla’s eyes glistened. No doubt she was once again thinking about the road her brother had chosen to go down. Trent instinctively reached out and placed his hand on hers, giving it a squeeze.
“He’s okay,” she said, then shrugged. “At least as okay as he can be, considering the fact he’s let himself get dragged right back in with the same people who got him sent to prison before.”
Trent’s mother sighed. “Oh, Lyla. I’m so sorry to hear that. We’ll be saying a prayer it all works out. I’m just glad you had someone you felt comfortable turning to when you were in trouble.”
She gave Trent a pointed look as she spoke, and he could practically see the wheels turning in that head of hers.
Lyla smiled, clearly having no idea his mother was setting her up. “Yes, Trent was amazing. Not just because he was willing to fly out here on the spur of the moment, but because he had to deal with...well...let’s just say some really bad men we ran into while we were looking for Marco.”
His mother’s eyes widened in shock. His father looked equally concerned.
“You okay?” his dad asked.
“Yeah,” Trent said. “It was nothing.”
His parents didn’t look like they believed him, but they didn’t press.
“So, where are you staying while you’re in town, dear?” his mom asked as she sipped her iced tea. “Not at a hotel, I hope. We have plenty of guest rooms for you here.”
“I’m not staying in a hotel, Mom,” he said as casually as he could. “I’m sleeping on a futon in Lyla’s guest room.”
His mother smiled so big you’d think she won the lottery. She was probably coming up with a list of baby names right now.
As for his father, he was looking back and forth between his wife and Trent, obviously trying to figure out what had just happened. After a moment, his dad’s gaze swung to where his hand was still intertwined with Lyla’s. It was as if a lightbulb went on because he grinned at his wife.
>
“Would you like some tomatoes, Lyla?” Mom asked, holding out the serving plate to her. “They’re wonderful this time of the year.”
Trent shook his head. Oh yeah, his mom was already hearing wedding bells. Man, this was going to be a long two weeks.
* * * * *
“I think your parents are awesome,” Lyla said as they strolled along the slowly darkening paths of the San Antonio River Walk a few hours later.
“You might not think that after spending the whole day with them,” Trent muttered, still not sure why he’d agreed to his mother’s suggestion for the impromptu family reunion with his brothers and sisters the day after tomorrow. He supposed he could put up with his parents’ not-so-subtle attempts to talk him into moving back here if it meant getting to hang out with his siblings and their kids.
Lyla laughed. “On the contrary. I’m looking forward to it. I love your mom and dad. I think it’s cool how well they get along even though they clearly disagree about things now and then.”
Trent had never thought about it that way, but he supposed Lyla was right. He’d never been sure how his parents kept it together considering they were so drastically different.
“I think they were both on their best behavior today because they were trying to impress you,” he said.
“Why the heck would they be trying to impress me?”
Trent reached out and captured her hand, tugging her closer until their shoulders almost touched as they moved along the beautiful network of sidewalks, bridges, and shops lining this section of the San Antonio River.
“Mom has been after me for years to find the right woman and settle down, and after seeing the two of us together today, I think she hopes you’re that woman,” he told her.
Lyla seemed to consider that then grinned. “I can see why she’d want that. You have to admit, we’d make a cute couple.”
He cocked a brow. “Oh really? You think so?”
She laughed and nudged his shoulder with hers as they walked under an arching bridge draped in green ivy, fragrant flowers, and colorful lights. “Sure. Of course, pairing anyone with me would make for a cute couple, so I wouldn’t read too much into it.”