A SEAL's Kiss

by Tawny Weber

  She could imagine this same scene, anywhere. With other friends, or friends she hadn’t met yet. Different meals, various cities or countries.

  Those parts were all interchangeable, all wonderful elements but no one of them was crucial to this feeling inside her heart.

  The feeling of joy. Of peace and happiness.

  Of love.

  It was Aiden that made the difference.

  A forkful of molten lava cake halfway to her lips, she stopped and lowered it without tasting to stare at the man next to her.

  Engaged in a spirited debate with Gary and Eric over the merits of Chevy versus Ford, he was both animated and relaxed. As if he, too, had found his bliss. Or at least had let go of some of that heaviness he’d been carrying three weeks ago.

  This was something she could give him, she realized.

  Fun. Laughter and belonging and simple enjoyment.

  She wrapped that feeling around her like a soft, warm blanket, cozy and delighted at how fabulous it felt.

  The sweetness of it lasted all the way until coffee.

  Curled up next to Aiden on the couch, she sipped her second cup and listened to the chatter with a smile.

  Aiden had to nudge her to let her know that Eric was asking a question.

  “I’m sorry?” she said, offering an apologetic smile as she set her cup on the table.

  “What are you doing these days? Are you looking for a job around town?”

  She scrunched her nose, barely stopping herself from saying ew.

  “I’m good, thanks.” Then, too excited to keep it to herself but not sure she was ready to share such a big step, she admitted, “I’ve got a lot of writing on my blog due in the next few weeks, and a few new projects I’m checking on.”

  “Your blog? Are you going to do something on animals again?” Cailley asked. “Those are my favorite. Much better than the ones about addicts. Those just depress me.”

  “But do they make you want to help?” Sage asked, arching her brows over her coffee cup.

  Cailley’s lips twitched, then she rolled her eyes and confessed, “Only out of guilt.”

  “That works.” Sage laughed. Tapping into emotions was the whole point. Emotions motivated people. Maybe she’d do really well with this series of articles. She took a deep breath, wanting their opinion.

  Before she could say anything, Gary pointed his cup her way. “You know, you should move away from that crazy stuff you write about and focus on the military.”

  Crazy stuff?

  Sage bit her lip to keep from launching into a lecture on the many benefits of her making different causes public in her own small way.

  It wasn’t that a convivial evening with friends was the wrong place that stopped her. It was the looks on those friends’ faces. Not one of them, not even AnaMaria or Cailley, seemed put out at his description. They all looked indulgently amused. Like she was a precocious kid who did parlor tricks.

  For the first time ever, Sage felt self-conscious of her life choices. Did they all really think the things she cared about were crazy?

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at Aiden in case he wore the same expression as the rest of them.

  Instead, she frowned and asked, “Why would I change my focus to the military? I know there are programs that could use more funding, like Veteran’s Affairs. But they already get a lot of attention. I’m more the point-out-the-little-guy kind of blogger, you know.”

  “Well, sure, that’s what you’ve done before. But now you can get serious,” Eric said. “Do real work, maybe actually make a difference. You know, help Aiden out.”

  But she had made a difference.

  Maybe she hadn’t shaken the earth with her words, but she’d brought attention to shelters in need of funding or donations. She’d saved animals, helped children get schoolbooks and made connections that meant medical supplies were now readily available in a small village in Tibet.

  All her blissful feelings and contentment went poof in a wave of frustration.

  “Aiden doesn’t need my help,” she said. She forced herself to look at the man next to her. Did he think the same as everyone else? It was impossible to read him since he had that stoic military expression on his face again. “Do you?”

  “I’m pretty well covered,” he said quietly. “You focus on taking care of those homeless dogs and I’ll take care of the military stuff.”

  Homeless dogs.

  She stared at her coffee cup, willing the tears away. Was that all he saw she did?

  Now not only was Sage’s contentment gone, her stomach was churning with misery. She wanted to defend her results, but that’d feel like bragging. Like she was telling them because she needed approval. She’d never cared what others thought of her before. Was that the cost of finding bliss? Suddenly, miserably, trying to live her life for others’ approval?

  Maybe bliss wasn’t worth it.

  “We had a homeless goat through here last month,” Gary told them as he refilled wine all around. “I had to chase it through the grade-school playground and the market parking lot before I cornered it.”

  “That’s what you get for doing all your running on a treadmill,” Aiden told him.

  Sage gratefully let her stiff smile fade away as the discussion turned to law enforcement in Villa Rosa. She paid no attention to the talk swirling around her except to smile occasionally while lost in her own thoughts.

  It didn’t bother her to be considered flighty or a little eccentric. She readily acknowledged both. But that didn’t mean what she did didn’t deserve respect. Did Aiden feel the same way about her causes as everyone else?

  An hour later, as they walked home, she was still wondering. She tucked her hand into Aiden’s again and tried to set her worries aside. Since when did she care what other people thought of her? Earlier tonight, she’d figured she’d finally found bliss. Go back to that, she told her brain. Focus on the positive.

  “It’s a nice night for a walk, yes?”

  “Sure,” he agreed.

  “Aren’t you glad we didn’t bring the car? Less pollution this way, we get a little after-dessert workout. And we have time to talk.”

  Like maybe about what he really thought of the things that mattered to her. The lava cake bubbled in Sage’s belly like its namesake, not feeling nearly as good now as it had at dessert.

  “As long as you can talk and walk at the same time,” he said absently. “At least you wore flat shoes.”

  “And if I hadn’t?”

  He gave her a look. She knew he was trying for stern, but it was too amused.

  “I guess I’d just have to carry you,” he admitted.

  “You’d do that?”

  “Hey, I carried a two-hundred-pound guy with a broken leg out of the desert once. You’d be easy.”

  Sage’s smile stiffened. Not over the reminder of what kind of things Aiden faced as a SEAL. What a contrast between what she did, what she was.

  The hero and the flake.

  Clearly a match made in heaven.

  “You’re quiet,” Aiden observed.

  She glanced over with a shrug.

  “Just thinking.”

  “You usually think out loud.”

  “Are you trying to say I talk a lot?” she asked with a laugh.

  “No. Although you do talk a lot.” His grimace flashed, then was gone. “I was asking what’s wrong. I figured you’re upset, that’s why you’re so quiet.”

  Just like that, her lousy mood, self-doubts and pouty attitude melted away. Aiden was asking about her feelings. Since she was pretty sure he’d rather go into battle wearing a pink dress and heels while a TV crew filmed him, she knew how special that was.

  Knew he’d only do it if he cared.

 
“What?” Aiden asked, his body suddenly as tight as his voice. “Why do you look like that?”

  Sage blinked away the tears, sniffing as quietly as she could before asking, “What way? I’m fine.”

  “You look like you’re going to cry. Stop it.”

  “I’m not crying,” she assured him, biting her lip to keep it from wobbling.

  “Sage,” he warned, letting go of her hand and stepping away, as if she might explode at any second.

  That, and the fierce look on his face, did it. Sage’s laughter chased the tears away.

  “You are so sweet,” she murmured, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to her side. “I just want to cuddle you close.”

  “Cuddle all you want. Just don’t cry.” He paused, then with a sigh she felt more than heard, looked down at her. “You going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  He didn’t really want to know. He definitely didn’t want to talk feelings or deal with emotional outbursts.

  But he’d do it for her.

  Not because he was that kind of guy. No, Aiden didn’t do things to be nice, or because it was the supposed right thing. He only did them if they had a logical sequence that he saw a need to follow.

  Or because he cared.

  Sage sighed, finally crossing that metaphorical line.

  The one she’d been tiptoeing toward, then running from her entire life.

  She’d loved Aiden forever. So you’d think the slide into being in love with him would be a simple thing. Exciting and wild, an explosion of feelings that simply took over. That’s how she’d always figured love would feel.

  Instead, she felt twitchy. Like her feet were itching to run, but her body wanted to follow directions and cuddle close. Her mind raced with arguments, every one of them dismissing the idea of this being love.

  But her heart just sat there, smug and sure.

  She wasn’t sure if this night was a dear-diary moment.

  Or a good reason to take up heavy drinking.

  “Sage, do me a favor.”

  Pulled out of her confused reverie, she glanced up at Aiden’s face. Grazed by moonlight, his features were part shadow, part magic.

  “Anything,” she promised.

  “Don’t make me ask what’s wrong a third time. It goes against my every instinct to try and engage a discussion on the basis of emotions.”

  “But you’d do it for me?”

  His sigh was as light as the breeze wafting over them.

  “Yeah. Somehow, with you, I find myself doing a lot of things my instincts warn against.”

  “For instance?”

  He was silent for a second. She didn’t have to glance up to know he was giving her one of those X-ray looks of his, trying to delve the secrets of her soul.

  “A cozy double dinner date. A fake engagement, complete with party. A kidnapped weekend locked in a hotel room with fruit and hot fudge,” he recited.

  “You love fruit,” she pointed out. “And while I know you’re not a big sweets eater, you did lick that hot fudge clean.”

  “That’s because it was smeared over your naked skin.”

  “And your instincts warn against that?”

  “Too much hot fudge could lead to cavities and weight issues,” he deadpanned.

  Cuddling closer to his side, Sage laughed in delight.

  “Ahh, look at you, taking big risks and venturing outside your comfort zone,” she teased, poking him in his side.

  His smirk came and went in a flash before he shook his head.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “You know, there’s a reason you don’t usually ask people what’s on their mind that’s bothering them.”

  “And that would be?”

  “As soon as they tell you, you’d be the one bothered.”

  “Cute.”

  From his tone, he knew she was sidestepping. Sage didn’t mind, though. She’d never aspired to be the mysterious type. Until tonight, she’d never aspired to be any type other than who she was. Mostly because she’d never thought twice about how other people might view her.

  Until tonight.

  “Can I ask you something?” she said hesitantly.

  “You just did,” he pointed out, smiling down at her.

  Right. Why was it easier to get naked and eat chocolate off of a guy than ask a simple question?

  “You can ask another one,” he prompted. “I’ll tell you anything unless it’s top secret, classified or none of your civilian business.”

  “Lucky for you I have no interest in military secrets. This is about me,” she told him.

  “You want to tell me your secrets?” He sounded hesitant. Like he wanted to know, but didn’t want to want to know.

  “Maybe.” She bit her lip, then forced herself to quit being coy and just spit it out. “Do you think what I do is a waste of time?”

  “What you do? You mean, your various jobs?” Before she could correct him, and yes, she did hesitate because she was suddenly just as interested in his response to that as she was her actual question, he continued. “No. I think you’re looking for your right fit. While you look, you’re adding a variety of skills to your résumé and staying busy.”

  He made it sound so clever, noble even. Sage would have done a happy dance right then and there, except it would mean letting go of Aiden. And as good as she was feeling right now, she had a lot of plans for his body that required holding on tight.

  “You don’t think I’m a flake?”

  “I think the term that fits you best is free spirit.”

  “I like that image,” she decided. “It makes me sound like I should be running around outdoors, naked.”

  “I like that image,” he decided with the husky laugh she’d happily come to recognize as his horny alert.

  Mmm, decisions, decisions.

  The temptation to go the naked route was overwhelming.

  But she’d come this far. And while she might be a free spirit, she wasn’t a chicken. So she resisted the urge to pull her dress over her head.

  “Actually, I meant my blog. You know, the posts I write. The causes I try to bring attention to. Do you think it’s a waste of time?”

  “You’ve found homes for how many dogs?” he asked, tugging her off the path and over to the little gazebo at the base of the hill.

  “Thirty or so,” she said. She pulled her hand free so she had both free to wave over her head. As if it were a vague number that didn’t matter instead of thirty-two beautiful, loyal animals who now had safe, loving homes.

  “How much did you raise for that water project in Africa last year?”

  “You knew about that?” She wished the moon was brighter so she could see his face. Instead, it was shrouded in shadows, so all she could go on were his words. And those were surprising the hell out of her.

  “You blogged about it, didn’t you?”

  “You really do read my blog?” Now she was grateful for the lack of light, since there was nothing attractive about her jaw hanging open.

  “Of course I read it. I’ve donated, too. Not always, but whenever I can. I’ve been known to nag guys to donate sometimes, as well,” he admitted, laughing quietly as he held out his hand to lead her up the steps of the gazebo.

  “You got your big bad navy pals to donate to my causes?” she asked, delighted.

  “Hey, some guys push their daughters’ or nieces’ Girl Scout cookies. I push charitable causes.” His shrug was uncomfortable, like he wanted to brush off the conversation as fast as possible. “Look, it’s no big deal.”

  “It is to me,” she admitted, lifting first one of his hands, then the other, to her mouth and brushing a kiss over his knuckles. “It means everything to me.”

  “You’
re kidding, right?”

  Sage blinked hard, not sure where the tears had come from or why, but knowing they were the bittersweet happy kind that she couldn’t run from.

  After all, they were falling-in-love tears.

  She’d have to be crazy to run from falling in love. Wouldn’t she?

  “Of course I’m not kidding,” she told him, trying to stay focused on the conversation and not her freaked-out thoughts. “Other than my father, who I secretly suspect believes in me more for the sake of faith in genetics than his being impressed with my choices, you’re the only person to ever show faith in me.”

  “Your friends have faith in you.”

  Right. She almost laughed, then realized he actually meant that. Her brow creased as she mulled that over.

  Did they?

  “Well, I suppose they have faith that I’ll entertain them,” she said after a moment. “They figure my next blog post will make them laugh, or give them something to wonder about over lunch.”

  “But that’s the charm of your writing,” he pointed out. “Your articles are so entertaining, they make people want to donate to be a part of the fun.”

  “I like how you put that,” she decided, wrapping her arms around his waist. “It sounds much better than my friends all think I’m a flake.”

  * * *

  “THAT’S STUPID,” Aiden growled. It’d been bad enough earlier, listening to Eric make light of Sage’s blog and the causes she supported. But hearing her do it was just too much.

  She was an incredible woman and in all the years he’d known her, she’d always seemed very aware of that.

  This new self-doubt thing was pure crap. She had to stop and get back to appreciating her unique awesomeness.

  “Oh, I’m not saying they don’t care about me. They’re wonderful friends and great people. But I’m not really like them. And they don’t expect me to be,” she said with a light laugh. If it wasn’t for the uncertainty he’d heard in her voice, he’d think she was totally cool with the dismissal of her projects.

  If she wanted to pretend, he should let her. These emotional discussions, pushing her to open up and confess emotions, it was crazy.