With the ways things were going lately, Christopher felt like he’d be the last man standing. Scratch that. No way was Brent going to end up in a relationship.
Christopher gestured to the waitress for a beer as he joined the other guys. Her eyes sparked with interest as her gaze trailed over his muscular physique, but he gave her a brief nod and moved toward his friends.
“What’d the CO need you for?” Brent asked, eyebrows raised, as Christopher sank down into an empty chair at their table.
“I’ve got to attend some damn meeting tomorrow morning about network security on base.”
“And miss the drills out on the water?”
Christopher shrugged, taking a swig from his beer. “Guess so. We have plenty of IT staff, but they wanted me to weigh in on a few things. Some hotshot from the Pentagon is down here this week. Apparently someone’s been trying to hack into the secure systems.”
“And they needed your sorry ass?” Brent asked.
Mike chuffed out a laugh. “Sic Christopher and his computer voodoo on them, and they’ll be chasing their tails around trying to figure out what hit them.”
“Damn straight,” Evan laughed.
Christopher smirked. He could hack into damn near anything. That’s how he earned his nickname, “Blade.” Some woman he’d met fresh out of BUD/S didn’t know what a hacker was and thought he literally hacked into shit with a knife or something. The men in his class never let him live it down, and the name “Blade” had stuck.
He’d helped Patrick track down the man stalking Rebecca earlier in the summer, hacking into credit card databases to glean info on the suspect. No one had been the wiser that he’d been there, but the team had secured a plan to track the sick bastard down. He didn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse when what he did was for the greater good. No way would he let a man harm a woman or child, and their entire team had helped Patrick guard Rebecca and track down her stalker.
Mike turned his attention back to them, the two women he was chatting with wandering off, giggling. “I think I saw her.”
“Her?” Christopher asked in confusion. His eyes drifted to the women who’d just left.
“The hotshot from DC. Hotter than hell was more like it. I usually prefer blondes, but I wouldn’t turn her down if she came knocking.”
Brent guffawed and nearly spit out his beer. “What the fuck did she look like?”
“You would’ve liked her,” Mike said, his shit-eating grin spreading across his face.
“Killer tits?” Brent asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Easy, guys,” Evan chuckled. “Ali’s not going to want to hang out with me here anymore.”
“Aw, hell. She knows you only have eyes for her,” Mike said. He looked sheepishly at Alison. “Sorry.”
Alison laughed at his obvious discomfort. “I’m sure some of my nurse friends at the hospital would love to meet a Navy SEAL if you’re looking for a date, Mike. Maybe I could invite them along next time?”
“I could let a nurse tend to my wounds,” Brent agreed. “How’s that working out for you, Evan?”
Alison turned about ten different shades of red. Christopher apologized to her for Brent’s behavior as Brent winked and excused himself, chasing after a blonde in a tight red dress that had just walked by their table. For the love of God.
“He’s terrible,” Evan muttered.
“He was just teasing me,” Alison said, still looking rather embarrassed. “I don’t think I’d set up my friends with him though. How about you guys?” she asked, glancing between Christopher and Mike. “I could introduce you to someone.”
“Hell yeah,” Mike agreed. “Tell me about these slutty nurses.”
“Who said they were slutty?” Alison asked, laughing as Evan pulled her closer. He lightly kissed the top of her head.
“In my mind, they totally are. You in?” he asked, glancing over at Christopher
“Nah,” Christopher muttered. “I’m going to grab another drink.”
He stood, leaving Mike quizzing Alison about the single women she worked with. That’s all he needed—one more man tied down. The next thing he knew, Matthew, Brent, and him would be the only single guys left. The rest of them would be off playing house with their girlfriends, dicks in their hands. Like he fucking needed that.
Christopher ground his teeth together as a drunk guy bumped into him, nearly spilling his beer all over Christopher’s tee shirt. Christopher neatly sidestepped him and continued on his path toward the bar. Man, he was getting too old for this. What had been fun years ago was seeming a helluva lot more like work these days—drunk guys chasing after scantily clad women. Young college girls hitting on him. Crowds of people looking only to hook-up for the night.
Jesus. The next thing he knew, he’d be settling down into domestic bliss like Patrick and Evan with their women, happy to avoid this scene altogether.
Right.
He worked his way through the crowd at the bar, trying to decide if he wanted another long neck or something a little stronger. The burn of some liquor wouldn’t be a bad thing tonight. Might even chase all those ghosts away. He finally decided that maybe a shot or two would calm his frayed nerves, when the scent of lavender hit him like a bolt of lightning. He stiffened, his entire body jolting to high alert. What in the hell?
It was sweet. Fragrant. Intoxicating.
Unforgettable.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” a sweet, feminine voice said. The steely undercurrent of the tone wasn’t lost on him.
His heart nearly stuttered to a halt, tension coursing through his muscular frame as he clenched his jaw. He was frozen in place, save for his dick, which was suddenly rising to attention. That fucking voice that haunted his dreams. That scent. That woman.
He turned, already lost in a pair of violet eyes.
Lexi.
And she looked madder than hell.
Chapter 4
Lexi stilled as shock shot straight through her, electricity coursing from her head all the way down to her toes. She was frozen in place, her heart thumping erratically. Aside from the few words she’d uttered, she couldn’t get her brain to properly function at the moment to add anything else. Not anything coherent at least. Simultaneous undercurrents of anger and rage within her competed with surprise, confusion, and hurt. She didn’t think she’d still feel betrayed seeing him all these years later, but there it was. Her past had come back to haunt her—all six feet, two hundred plus pounds of him was right in front of her.
Bigger and better than ever.
He was tall, broad, even bigger than she remembered. Nearly ten years had bulked him up, giving him large biceps and pecs, a broad muscular chest that she had simultaneous urges to sink into and throttle in frustration. Pounds of muscle lie beneath that tee shirt he had on. Well-worn jeans clung to muscular thighs. At one point of her life she’d had every inch of his body memorized—now there were muscles on top of muscles, ridges and dips and all sorts of new, interesting things to explore. Hell, even his forearms were sexy—corded muscle with veins that stood out against his tanned skin, leading to his tough, very male hands. Hands that had once thoroughly explored her entire body.
She flushed as she gazed at his powerful stature—as memories bombarded her. His tightly leashed strength was contained, the power coursing through his muscular body somehow both attractive and arousing. His scent hit her like a ton of bricks—it was fresh and clean, like he’d just showered. Memories swirled through her mind of them showering together in his apartment, years ago—his large frame dripping wet beneath the shower head; her body trembling for him; his fingers, tongue, and finally his cock between her legs. It nearly took her breath away just recalling the power he held over her—the way he commanded and pleasured her body in a way no man ever had before. In a way no man ever could since.
His face showed a few lines that had appeared with age, and it was more chiseled than in her memories. That angular jaw, the soft lips, those freaking gorgeo
us brown eyes. He was so big and ruggedly handsome it almost hurt just to look at him. She wanted to step back from his intense stare, to shy away—to move anywhere that she couldn’t feel the heat radiating off his body. But she wasn’t that innocent girl anymore. She’d met Christopher when she was nineteen—young, inexperienced, naive. Nearly ten years had gone by. She wasn’t the same woman now.
Her momentary feelings of shock at meeting his penetrating brown gaze, however, were quickly replaced with anger. The bitterness she’d felt after he’d questioned her years ago, the cold way he’d stomped out the door when she’d worriedly told him she may be pregnant, the fear and loneliness she’d felt as she sat alone sobbing in her apartment—that wasn’t something you ever forgot. Those weren’t things you ever could forgive.
So what if the suspected pregnancy had turned out to be just a false alarm? She wanted Christopher there at the store with her buying boxes of pregnancy tests—she wanted his hand to be the one she held as she waited for one or two little pink lines to appear. It didn’t matter that he’d returned hours later, early the next morning, pounding on her door. It was over.
Maybe Christopher could handle all the macho, alpha male stuff, running around with his SEAL buddies on dangerous missions, but when she’d needed him just to be a man? Just to be her boyfriend and not some military hero? He’d freaked out and bailed. Literally left her standing alone in her apartment while he got his shit together. God only knows where he went, but by the time he returned? She was done.
She’d slammed the door in his face and never spoken to him again.
“Lexi,” he said, finally stunned out of whatever trance he’d been in as he’d locked eyes with her. His voice was warm, rich, and smooth. Hearing it felt like sipping hot chocolate on a cold day or coming home again—it warmed her all over, from her inside out, sending heat and awareness bursting forth from her center and coursing over her skin. She flushed as it filled her heart and chest with a longing she hadn’t felt in a decade. With a need she couldn’t describe.
“Christopher.” She hoped he didn’t hear the shakiness in her voice. Goosebumps spread over her skin. No other man had ever had this affect on her. No other man overwhelmed her simply with his presence, just with her name on his lips. The way he uttered it was almost a cross between a plea and a prayer. He didn’t move a muscle, but it felt like his body was reeling her in.
“What are you doing here?” His low voice burned with an intensity she didn’t want to examine too closely. Confusion clouded his face. Deep brown eyes held her hostage. The sounds from the rest of Anchors seemed to fade into the background, the clinking of glasses and animated conversations just a dull roar. She had to be dreaming. Nine years had gone by, but when she saw him, it was like she was transported through time.
Except in that fairy tale, he’d betrayed her and left. He was no Prince Charming, and this was no happily-ever-after.
“I was just wondering the same thing.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze. Had he tracked her down here? Impossible. Why wait nearly a decade and then follow her down to Virginia Beach?
“What you’re doing here?” he asked, a hint of amusement spreading across his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. Despite his shock in seeing her, the edge of his lips quirked with a hint of a smile.
Cocky, arrogant bastard.
“No,” she snapped, irritated. “What the hell you’re doing here.”
“Hallucinating, apparently.”
“Excuse me?”
“Lexi, my God. I haven’t seen you in ten years.” She couldn’t read the expression on his face, couldn’t see a hint of any emotion in his dark eyes. For a man she once knew intimately, completely, they were now perfect strangers. He had an entire life she knew nothing about. For a man who’d once been her best friend and lover, it was almost painful to be so awkwardly unacquainted. Her drycleaner knew more about her life than Christopher did. They meant that little to each other now.
“And whose fault is that?”
He had the decency to look embarrassed, and her chest tightened. It was most certainly in anger. No way in hell did she feel regret at no longer knowing this man. “You’re stationed at Little Creek.” It wasn’t a question. There was no other reason he’d be clear across the country at a bar frequented by the local military men. The chances of him being randomly sent here the exact same week as her were slim-to-none. She didn’t believe in coincidences.
“Yes.” His jaw ticked.
“Since when?”
He cleared his throat. “Eight years.”
Goosebumps spread across her flesh. Blood pounded in her ears. He’d left a year after her. Why would he ever leave Coronado? The only reason she could come up with was because she’d left, too. But the real reason was a damn mystery, because he’d been the one to walk out. She was about to lose her shit. Even when she returned home, Virginia Beach was only a four-hour drive from DC. She came here damn near every summer with her girlfriends. Hell. Kenley’s parents owned a condo near the beach. Lexi and Kenley had just stayed there over Memorial Day weekend a few months ago. She thought she’d put the whole damn country between them, and if she wanted, she could be down in an afternoon, just like that. It was actually painful to think he’d been so close all this time. To think that they could’ve….
Could’ve what?
Had he known that she’d come to DC? No, if he’d come after her, he’d have done exactly that. Come. After. Her. Come to DC, tracked her down at the Pentagon, looked her up in the DoD personnel files. None of that would be difficult for a SEAL with connections. Or for a man intent on finding the woman he once loved. Christopher was here on the East Coast, in Little Creek, for the Navy and the Navy alone. None of it had a damn thing to do with her moving here.
Lexi glared at him. “You ran out on me,” she accused. “On us.”
“I was just a dumb kid back then—”
“I was a kid back then. Just a college student! You were some hotshot SEAL who’d already seen the world. You had a career, a life, everything! But you couldn’t handle a relationship.”
“For the love of God—”
The bartender interrupted, asking for their order, and Christopher shot him a deadly glare. The bartender’s gaze flicked over to her, uncertain. Christopher calmly reached for her elbow to lead her away from the crowded area.
“Don’t touch me!”
He flinched, looking as if she’d slapped him. Maybe she should. It would feel pretty damn good after all these years. He sure as hell would never hit a woman, but slapping him across that handsome face was sounding better and better with every passing second. In fact, with all the anger and rage coursing through her at the moment, she wanted to pound her fists on his chest, to make him actually feel something for a change. That cold-hearted bastard had walked out on her when she’d needed him. When she’d been terrified, he’d simply turned around and walked out the door, their years together over, just like that.
The only problem was, with all those pounds of muscle on his six-foot frame, her pummeling him would probably be as effective as a kitten batting at a ball of yarn. It might make her feel better, but it sure wouldn’t hurt him—physically or otherwise. She crossed her arms, growing more defensive with each passing second. What the hell was he doing here, anyway? He was supposed to be back in California, right where she’d left him.
He glanced over to a table in the far corner of the bar, and she saw a group of people watching them with interest—two other guys who had to be SEALs, judging from their massive builds, and an attractive, strawberry blonde women. The men had huge grins on their faces, and only the woman looked slightly concerned. Well wasn’t that fan-freaking-tastic. Now they had an audience to watch their ten-year reunion.
Brushing past Christopher, who was still entirely too close for comfort, she slid onto an empty barstool and ordered a shot of whiskey to calm her shaky nerves. Normally she was a beer girl, but tonight? Not a chance.
She had
n’t seen a ring on his finger, but SEALs didn’t always wear them. If he’d freaked out on her then married the next woman he took to bed, she’d freaking kill him. Right here in this goddamn bar in front of half the Navy. Anger coursed through her at even the mere idea of Christopher with another woman. Ten damn years had gone by—of course he’d had other women. Probably hundreds of them. She was just one in a lifetime of the endless stream of females he’d chase after.
Christopher growled behind her, edging closer as the bartender appraised her with interest. She’d changed after work into a strappy little sundress. It wasn’t revealing, per se, but the way it hugged her curves never had men complaining. So now Christopher was jealous because some young college kid was eyeing her appreciatively? Too freaking bad. He’d lost his right to have an opinion on anything she did when he’d walked away years ago. The hell with him.
“Make it two,” he said in a low voice, throwing some cash down on the bar.
The bartender nodded and turned to pour their shots. He was cute, in a young, scruffy-looking kind of way.
Christopher wedged himself next to where she sat perched on the barstool, his hulking frame sending her body pulsing with awareness. He was too big. Too male. Too cocky for his own damn good. She ought to refuse his unspoken offer to buy her a drink, but what did she care? One shot, and she was outta here. She just needed a little liquid courage to will herself to walk away.
“He’s not your type,” Christopher murmured, ducking low so that his lips brushed against her ear. His scent surrounded her, and his mouth at her ear sent a thousand different memories stirring deep inside. Whispered promises. Gentle commands. Words shared between lovers.
She actually shivered at his closeness.
One large hand came to rest on her back, the heat from it searing her flesh. Her nipples tightened as her chest rose and fell, and Christopher’s gaze slid to her breasts. Damn her body for betraying her. His eyes raked back up her body, his look incendiary. Liquid heat coursed through her, sending heat coiling down from her center until arousal dampened her panties. She wanted to squirm away, to turn and leave, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Wouldn’t let him know how much he affected her still.
A SEAL's Surrender (Alpha SEALs Book 3) Page 3