"How'd that go for you?"
"About the same as your convo with your mom."
"Damn, we're two of a kind, huh?"
"It would appear. The thing is, I don't think my brother and I have a problem as much as his wife and I do."
"Ah, so you don't like each other?"
"No. Yes. Shoot, I don't know." He took his foot off the accelerator as traffic slowed in front of him. "She and I used to date in high school. I was young and stupid. I thought I was in love with her. When my dad gave the okay for me to join the Navy, I was so excited I drove over to her house and asked her to come with me. To marry me."
Meghan turned in the seat and stared at him. "Obviously that didn't work out for you."
He released a bark of laughter. "Thank God. Deanne and my brother started dating two weeks later. She rubbed it in my face, and like the eighteen-year-old hothead I was, I took a swing at my brother." He wasn't going to go into the broken jaw or hours-long jail stint. She didn't need to know those deets.
"So, she's the reason you two don't talk?"
"Not as far as I'm concerned. I could care less that they got together. I have a feeling, though, I'm the only one to let go of the past." He was pretty fucking positive Deanne had been manipulating his brother for the last twelve years. "Sometimes family just doesn’t see things the way we need them to."
"Wow. Truer words were never spoken." She looked down at her hands and said in a quiet voice, "My sister and mother have always used my weight against me. They never let me forget that I'm fat."
"What? You are not fat. My God, you are gorgeous." Rio realized he shouted the words and drew a calming breath. "I'm sorry."
She gave him a shy smile. "Thank you."
"You are beautiful, you know."
She shook her head and glanced out the window. "When you've been told the opposite your entire life, you don't believe anything else. Besides, it is hard to believe someone like you would even noticed me."
Rio made sure the road was clear and pulled over to the shoulder. He put the car in neutral and pulled the handbrake before he turned toward her. "See, that right there, those type of comments are why I haven't been in a relationship for a long time. Last night when we met, I was just a guy. I didn't have money. You knew I was in the Navy, but I'm not so sure you didn't think I was lying about being a SEAL."
"I'll admit I did think you were using it as a line." Her voice still seemed small and wounded to him. Dammit, he hated people sometimes.
"No, I'd never do that. I'm just a man, Meg. To me, you are beautiful. All of you. I'm not saying that to get under your skirt."
She laughed and a royal red blush colored her cheeks almost instantly. He reached over and brushed back the fall of auburn hair. "The bobble-headed, matchstick women who starve to make themselves look like skeletons are not attractive to me. You are. You have a beautiful smile and your laughter is contagious, but on top of that, your body is banging hot. I love curves, and woman, your curves damn near knocked me out last night. I'm surprised I was able to put two words together."
"I..." tears misted in front of her beautiful blue eyes. "I stood up to them. I told my mother I wasn't going to allow them to hurt me anymore. See the thing is, I was fat. I've lost almost a hundred pounds, but I did it over a two-year period. I ate sensibly and exercised. I had to know that I could maintain the healthy lifestyle. I had to break the habit of using food to numb the pain."
"The pain caused by your mom and sister?"
"Among others. When you're fat, you're a target. The snide comments when you go out to eat. The way people avoid you, or worse yet, think it's okay to judge you without knowing what is going on in your life. People who use social media to fat shame everyone who isn't their idea of perfect. Death by a thousand paper cuts type of a thing. Oh, and getting up the nerve to actually go to the gym? That fear took me months to conquer. All the looks the perfect gym bunnies give you, the snickers behind your back that technically, you're not supposed to hear… only they make sure you do."
Damn, people were fucking cruel. He hated that she'd been targeted. "You were hurt."
She shrugged. "I can’t use it as an excuse. I will never be slender like my mom and sister. I didn't take care of myself, and I ate because it was a comfort. It took a lot of effort to lose the weight, and it takes determination to keep it off."
"Well, if you want my opinion, you're perfect." He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. Fuck him if he didn't feel debonair and all that shit. Especially when her eyes lit up. Yeah, he liked being the person to make her happy.
"Now, shall we continue?" He waited for a moment. She finally nodded. Her face still a beautiful shade of crimson.
On the way to Tybee, Rio kept up a stream of small talk about the way the city had grown, the businesses that had sprouted up, and the improvements to the island. By the time they parked and grabbed the picnic basket out of the trunk compartment, they were laughing. The previous conversation had floated past them, like the water pouring out of the Savannah River. It had flowed on and taken her worries away on the current.
They held hands as he carried the basket, and they walked down the boardwalk to the beach. That was... new. He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd taken the time to stroll with someone… and hand holding? It really hadn't been a thing. But you know, he could get used to it. Not a hardship at all.
Before they stepped off into the sand, they slipped off their shoes. The fine golden-hued grains held the warmth of the day. June in Savannah meant high humidity and unbearable heat. Meghan had been smart to wait until the sun had started to set. The breeze kept the gnats and mosquitos away. As they looked out over the water, a huge freighter chugged up the Savannah River, dwarfing smaller ships that headed out to sea.
After strolling down the beach, they found a vacant wooden swing and sat down with the basket between them. He watched as she expanded the wicker and pulled plastic containers out. She handed him the wine bottle, and he got busy uncorking it while she pulled out all manner of containers. Each plastic dish held a couple servings of delicious looking food.
She moved the basket, plopping it in the sand in front of them. The containers were arranged between them. She handed him a plastic wine glass, and he poured out a good measure of red wine for her and then some for himself. He corked the bottle and lodged it in the sand at his feet. "I hope you like it." Her face was once again alive with a blush.
"I'm sure I will. You realize that I've eaten MREs and enjoyed them, right?"
"I've heard those things are horrible."
"Not so! When you're hungry they are manna from heaven." There had been many times they'd gone days without food. Filling your belly wasn't a priority when lives were on the line.
"Well, I hope this tastes better." She handed him a container. "Marinated flank steak with a wild mushroom and caramelized onion sauce over toasted baguette slices. This one is vine ripened tomatoes with a wild-rice and parmesan stuffing. These are pear halves that have been poached and are stuffed with a blue cheese and walnut filling. They pair well with the wine."
"You made all of this?" The food looked phenomenal. His stomach grumbled in agreement.
"I did. I had to learn how to cook satisfying food while watching what I ate. If I cook it, I know the macros."
"Macros?"
"Nutritional breakdowns." She laughed and waved her hand. "I may have gone overboard with tracking my food intake, but two years of measuring everything, looking up calorie counts, fat percentages and total grams of protein has made me a very careful cook."
He picked up a slice of baguette and took a bite. The beef melted in his mouth. The sauce added a deep, rich, woodsy goodness and a delicious texture. He devoured it. "This is fantastic." He barely cleared the words before he popped the other half of the open-faced sandwich into his mouth. God, it was so good. He picked up the container of stuffed tomatoes she pushed toward him and used his fork and knife to make quick work of the two
halves she gave him while eating two more baguette thingies. Fucking delicious.
They split the poached pears, which were sweet and tart with the bite of tang from the crumbles of blue cheese and walnuts. It complemented the merlot just as she said they would. Not that he knew squat about pairings. His idea of pairing was beer with hotdogs and BBQ, and whiskey with steaks.
His family had sent him to high priced boarding schools. He had the table manners and knew which water glass to drink from and what fork to use. Privately, he gave his teammates shit for not knowing which bread plate to use when they actually went out to nice restaurants. But publicly? They copied his lead, using the utensils he used. It was a respect thing. You didn't out your team. Did they give him shit when they figured out his family owned Northern Nova Distillery? Privately, oh, hell yeah, but that was to be expected. But his team was tight, they could give each other shit, but no one else had better say a word. He'd never let his team make a public faux pas. It was an unwritten code.
He helped put all the containers back into the basket and filled their glasses with the remainder of the Merlot. The sun had set. The breeze off the river was cool enough. He pushed the swing with one foot and dropped an arm behind her, stretching it on the back of the swing. "Thank you for this evening. I needed it."
His mind skittered over the conversation he’d had with his brother. He needed to shoot another azimuth and plan an attack from a different direction after talking to his parents to determine if he had missed something. The math wasn't adding up, so he was missing something. Somewhere.
"So did I." She sighed and sipped her wine. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"I think I'd like that." Rio looked down at her and winked.
"This is my first second date in a very long time." She lifted the plastic wine glass and saluted him. " I would never have told you that had I not just split a bottle of wine with you."
"Well there is something to be said for honesty, wine-driven or not." He finished his wine and put the plastic cup in the basket. "In full disclosure, I don't think I've had a second date."
"Say what?"
He fixed his eyes on the dark water and the reflection of the moon on the surface. "I didn't really date while in the military." He found release when he needed to, but he wasn't a manwhore like a few he knew.
"Ah, sexual encounters, not dating." She looked down at her hands when she spoke. Perhaps she was uncomfortable with the topic?
He shrugged. There was nothing he could do to put lipstick on that particular pig. "That's about it."
"Is that what you see this as?" He almost missed the question because she was still looking down and the breeze carried her question away from him.
He took her glass, tipped out the small amount of alcohol from the glass and popped it back into the basket. Turning to face her, he took both of her hands in his. "Meg, I can honestly tell you I don't know where this thing between us is going, but no, I don't have you labeled as a sexual conquest. If I wanted that, I could go to a bar and find what I need. I enjoy your company, and I hope you enjoy mine."
"I do!" She bit her lip and then laughed. "Did that sound a little desperate?"
"No. That sounded honest." He leaned forward and brought one hand under her chin. "I’m going to kiss you, Meghan."
"Please."
Her eyes slipped from his to his lips and then back up. He leaned forward the few inches needed and lightly swept his lips against hers. The small gasp she gave jolted through him. A billion sparks ignited a smoldering desire. He swept across her lips with his tongue.
Her head jolted back in surprise. "I'm sorry. I..." She put her hand on his chest and leaned forward.
Rio took the movement as permission and tried again. She opened for him, her reactions so fucking innocent, and didn't that send his knight in shining armor charging front and center. He covered the hand on his chest with one of his own and swept his tongue into her mouth. Based on her response, she wasn’t that experienced at French kissing. Rio pulled her closer to him, adjusted his angle and did his best to rock her world.
He pulled away and stared down at her. Her eyes were closed, those long lashes resting on her cheeks, and her mouth, pink and puffy from their kiss, was open just the slightest bit. Damn, she looked so fucking sexy.
Her eyes flickered open, and she stared at him. He dropped and gave her another kiss, banking the desire that built throughout him down hard. He pulled her closer and enveloped her in his arms. Her body molded against him perfectly. He pulled away again. Not because he wanted to, but because he could hear the laughter of children on the beach. They weren't in a place to take this any further. Not that he was going to ask her for that tonight. Something inside him wanted to be her first third date, and fourth, and fifth… and every other first. He tucked her against him and pushed the swing, enjoying her head against his shoulder.
"Thank you."
"For?" He dropped a kiss on her hair.
"For making me feel pretty."
"You are beautiful."
She didn't respond. Rio tucked her closer and stared out at the water. A fucking feral caveman replaced that knight in shining armor and wanted to club the hell out of whoever had made this woman feel anything less than beautiful. Sometimes he hated people.
Chapter 8
Meghan woke with a lazy stretch. She blinked up at the ceiling and smiled. Actually, the smile was probably the same one that had been placed there when Rio kissed her goodnight at her front door last night. She wanted to ask him in, it had been on the tip of her tongue. God, she'd debated whether or not she should all the way home from Tybee, but he took that option away from her. He kissed her until she couldn't think, opened her door, helped her over the threshold, and dropped the keys in her hand. With a, “Lock the door behind me,” and a wink, he walked out and closed the door.
Rolling to her side, she gazed out the windows at the vibrant blue skies. It was Sunday. The only two items on her agenda were laundry and a long run. She stretched again before rolling off the bed. It was going to be a fantastic day.
Meghan folded her last towel and placed it in the linen cupboard. Her house was clean. Her food for next week was in the refrigerator, prepped, measured and divided, and she'd had a fantastic workout. Still, she had energy to burn. Watching television didn't hold any interest. So, she grabbed her purse and phone and headed to the small shopping center adjacent to the apartment complex. It was an easy walk through a small area of woods. She strolled around the shops and looked at bits and bobs before she bought two pieces of fudge from the handmade candy shop. It was made with carob nibs, was sugar free, but more important—delicious. Each piece of candy would be divided into four pieces, and she’d have a sweet treat every night. It was a little present she gave herself for exercising. No exercise, no sweet taste. The calories were accounted for in her daily log book. She held herself to a caloric level that maintained her weight rather than induced weight loss, because she was happy.
She jogged up the stairs to her third floor apartment and, as she turned the corner, she dug into the bottom of her bag for her keys.
"Well, it's about time."
Meghan froze. Her eyes jerked from her purse to her sister, who leaned against the railing at her front door. "I'm sorry, I was unaware that I'd invited you over."
"We need to talk."
"No, I don't think we do." Megan held her keys in one hand, her bag from the candy store in the other. The distinct purple bag grabbed her sister's attention like a red cape before a bull.
Mindy pushed away from the rail, her size two jeans and summer top looking perfect on her. "We can do this out here so your neighbors will get a free show, or we can talk like adults in your apartment. I don't care which, because right now I'm pissed off enough to let everyone know what a bitch you're being."
"Bitch?" Meghan gaped. "Me?"
Her neighbor opened his front door and popped his head out. "Oh, hi. I thought I heard voices. Did you get locked out?"
"No, we were just going in." Mindy smiled sweetly at the neighbor.
Meghan moved forward on autopilot and unlocked her apartment. Mindy pushed the door open and floated in as if she owned the place. Meghan shut the door and tossed her keys into her purse, and hung it up on the hook beside the door.
Mindy pointed to the candy bag. "Seriously?"
"What do you want?" Meghan walked into the kitchen and placed her two pieces of fudge in the refrigerator.
"You need to call and apologize to Mom."
Mindy's voice was far too close, and Meghan straightened.
"My God, do you have enough food in there?"
Meghan glanced down at the clear containers that held her food for the next week. They were stacked neatly by day and by meal. "That is seven days’ worth, so yes, it looks like a lot of food, but it isn't. Not really." She calmly shut the door and congratulated herself for correcting her sister's misconceptions.
"I'm not apologizing to Mom."
"You made her cry."
Oh, God. Meghan closed her eyes. "By telling her the truth?"
"By being mean. When did you turn into that person, Meghan? What has Mom ever done to deserve you being so vicious? For God's sake, we are the only ones who have ever told you the truth! Do you think for one minute anyone would hire you, date you or, for that matter be your friend, when you weighed over two hundred pounds? Grow up, Meg. If we didn't get after you, you'd still be a freaking blob. I mean, look at what you just went out to buy. You've never had any self-control."
Meghan's eyes popped open at that. "Really?"
"Yes, really. How many times did Mom find candy wrappers under your mattress? What about the time you ate all six cupcakes from the refrigerator just before a dinner party? They were meant for dessert. Oh, and let’s talk about the food you'd sneak into the house and hide. How many hamburgers did you order at the drive-through? Two. Right? Plus, fries and a shake."
Meg was shaking. She'd done all of that and so much more. Morbid embarrassment flooded her. "I don't do that anymore."
Hot SEAL, Savannah Nights Page 7