The silence stretched on for way too long not to be awkward, so Lauren cleared her throat. “I’d love a diet coke, Mark.”
Mark shifted away from her immediately, the relief clear in his expression. “Great, I’ll—”
“No. You stay,” Steven said, his voice hard. “I’ll get her a drink. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your date.” Steven turned on his heel and stalked off toward the bar without another word.
Well, crap.
Swallowing and forcing a smile, she turned back to Mark, who watched her closely. “So…misunderstanding, huh?”
“Yeah.” He winced. “It seemed like the best excuse at the time. I had no idea you and Steven were a thing. I’m assuming Lydia doesn’t, either.”
“We’re not. I mean, we are. But we’re not.” Lauren laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s, yeah. It’s complicated.”
Mark raised an impeccably shaped brow. “I got that.”
“Yeah.” Lauren laughed again. “I guess you did.”
“Does he think it’s complicated?” he asked, waving at someone over her shoulder and smiling. Lauren glanced behind her, but there were only a few possibilities—all women. The only other person behind them was an old lady and a child. “Or does he think it’s simple?”
“Yeah, I think so. But it just recently became…complicated.”
Mark crossed his arms. “Ah. I see.”
“Yeah…”
He laughed. “Well, if he’s smart, he’ll figure it out sooner rather than later.” He grasped her shoulder and squeezed it. “You’re gorgeous, and any man would be lucky to call you his.”
Her cheeks heated. “Oh, stop it. You’re too much.”
“Stop what?” he asked, cocking that brow again.
“Being all cute and flirtatious and stuff.” She patted his hand on her shoulder. “It won’t work on me. Steven’s got…well, me. I think.”
“That’s why I’m doing it. A little healthy competition never hurt anyone.” He focused on something over her shoulder again, and his expression closed off. “But I don’t think he agrees. He’s coming over, and he looks pissed, so that’s my cue to leave you two lovebirds alone. It was nice meeting you, Lauren.”
She peeked over Mark’s shoulder. Sure enough, Steven stalked over with her soda, and he looked ready to kill someone. “Oh God.”
Mark laughed and walked away.
Way to abandon a girl, Mark.
When Steven reached her side, she held her hands up. “I didn’t know anything about that, I swear—”
“Just drink your damn soda,” Steven snapped, sliding it across the table to her. “I don’t want to talk about it here, in front of everyone.”
“I—” She barely managed to catch it before it hit the floor. She’d been too busy watching him. The second she opened her mouth, he gave her a warning glare. “Okay.”
He turned away, his mouth tightening when Mark laughed at something Holt said. “Who the hell does that guy think he is, coming over here and flirting with you?”
So much for not talking about it.
“It wasn’t his fault,” she said.
“Wow, defending him already.” Steven rolled his eyes, but his grip on the table was so tight it was a miracle it didn’t break. “You liked him that much?”
“I barely know the guy. I’m just saying—”
“You knew him well enough to flirt with him,” he snapped.
“I never—!” She blinked. “Wait a second. Are you…jealous?”
He snorted. Actually snorted. “I don’t fucking get jealous. If he wants to come over here and flirt with you, then he can. I’m not going to stop him, or you. It’s a free country. I did my share of fighting to keep it that way—and so did he.”
She bit down on her tongue so hard it brought tears to her eyes. He was being ridiculous in his denial, but if she laughed like she was about to, he’d get angry. And if he got angry, they would fight. And if they fought, everyone would figure out why.
But if he wasn’t jealous, then she would run down the street naked.
In daylight.
After she pulled herself together, she said, “Be angry all you want, but it’s not my fault that your sister decided to throw a handsome, single stranger my way—”
“Handsome?” He growled and grabbed her hand, hauling her after him and toward the door. As they passed Holt and Lydia—who both watched them with wide eyes and open mouths—he said, “We forgot something out in the car. We’ll be right back.”
Lauren tugged on her hand. “Steven.”
“No.” The second they went outside, away from prying eyes, he pressed her against a wall, melding his hard body against hers. “You think he’s fucking handsome?”
“I…” She gasped and placed her hands on his chest. He slid his leg in between hers and pressed a knee against her core. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you. Claiming you.” He lowered his face to hers, stopping just shy of kissing her. “Making you forget all about him, and reminding you why you shouldn’t have given him a second glance in the first place.”
Her stomach hollowed out, and she swallowed hard. He was being all possessive and domineering and…yes, jealous. She didn’t normally like jealousy on a man, but on Steven, it looked good. “I wasn’t even looking at him. I was looking at you.”
“Good.” He rolled his knee against her clitoris, slowly and tortuously. “I don’t like the idea of you wanting some other guy. I’ve never been so angry before. I’ve never been so—so—”
Her mouth quirked up. She couldn’t help it. “Jealous?”
His brows slammed down. “Hell no. I’m not—” Comprehension lit his expression, and he tightened his grip on her waist. “Shit. Yes, damn it. I’m fucking jealous. I’ve never wanted to claim a woman as mine, and all mine, as much as I did tonight.”
His “claim” on her was primitive and outdated, but even so, she liked it. The possession in his hold and voice made her nipples tighten, and she pressed against his knee. A gasp escaped her at the friction. “Steven.”
“I’m here, cupcake. And I’m not going anywhere.” He buried his hands in her hair and tugged until her face pointed up toward his. “Got it?”
The meaning behind those words was not lost on her. He echoed his promise from earlier, and she believed him. “Got it,” she breathed.
He let out a sexy growl and kissed her. The second their lips touched, it was like fireworks went off in the street, bursting all around them. His hands ran over her curves, touching everywhere…but not enough. She clung to his shoulders, tongue entwining with his, and moved against his knee, each stroke taking her higher and higher.
Everything else—the worries, the doubts, the confusion, and the fear—faded away in his arms. Her entire body tightened. God, she was close. So close that her fingers tingled and her stomach tightened. One more thrust and—
Without warning, he broke the kiss off and took his knee back. “That’s all you get, after what happened inside,” he said, his voice strained. “We’ll finish this when we get home—after we talk.”
“Steven,” she managed to get out. She drew in a ragged breath. “Please.”
She’d pulled that out into play out of desperation. It worked every other time. But apparently…not this one. He didn’t kiss her again. Just stared.
“No.” He rested his forehead on hers, gripping her hips and fisting her shirt there. “Not until we figure out what the hell we’re doing, but it’s not going to happen here, when my sister and Holt are waiting for us to come back inside.”
He hauled her close again, slamming his mouth down on hers.
When he pulled back, they both gasped for air, clinging to one another.
It was a lot harder to let go of him than it should have been. She took a shaky breath. “This is crazy. For years, you didn’t even look at me like that. But now I can’t stop kissing you, and—”
“That’s not true,” he argued. “I looked
. The difference between then and now is that I see exactly who and what we are—and what we could be.”
She fisted his shirt. “Steven, I’m not—”
“Don’t. Don’t say anything yet.” He pressed a finger to her mouth, his hazel eyes warm and pulling her under his spell. “Just think about it. About us. Okay?”
Oh, she’d think about it, all right.
In fact, she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.
Chapter Fourteen
Steven glanced at Lauren with his peripheral vision. The moonlight played with the highlights in her hair, and softened her beautiful features. She’d been quiet all night, and he had no clue if that was a good thing. He’d been honest, and open, and if he fucked himself over by doing so?
It was too late to take it all back now.
The truth about his feelings was out.
He had to wait to see if she felt the same way about him. And if, by some miracle, she did, then he had to try like hell not to screw it up, like he had with Rachel. But with Lauren, he had to have faith he would keep his shit together.
That this time would be different.
Or he was even more of a screwup than he originally thought.
They walked up to her house, hand in hand, neither one of them speaking as they climbed up her stairs and into her townhome. She closed and locked the door behind them, flicked the switch on, and those bright blue eyes locked on him. “You didn’t drink tonight.”
“I know.” He smiled. She seemed genuinely happy. And that’s all he could ask for right now. Her smiling. “You lectured me. I listened. Are you really that surprised?”
“Kind of.” She brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “You never really listened to me before. Why now?”
He was trying to “show” her he cared about her, that he could be the right kind of man for her, and doing his damnedest not to mess it up. “You deserve better than a drunken guy in your bed. You deserve a prince.” He frowned and rubbed his jaw. “No. Fuck that. That’s not good enough. You deserve a king.”
She swallowed so hard it filled the silence of the room. “So do you.”
“I don’t like kings,” he teased, running his finger down her arm. Goose bumps rose, and she shivered. “I like brunettes who tell me to get my shit together, and stop being an asshole. So I’m trying.”
She smiled, her whole face lighting up. Hell, it even made him feel like he was brighter. Happier. And that was something a guy couldn’t take for granted. “And apparently I like men who get me close to an orgasm…and then stop.”
“Touché.” He laughed. “I promised to finish later, though.”
“After we talk,” she said cautiously, kicking off her heels. “So. Talk.”
Sighing, he sat on the couch and kicked his boots off. Shit. It was D-Day, and he still didn’t have a speech prepared. He’d been agonizing over it all night, but the words wouldn’t come. He wasn’t kidding earlier. She deserved a king, and if he had any chance of winning her over, he had to find a way to become one. For her.
So he settled for: “How did the cake pick-up go?”
“Uh, good.” She blinked, clearly at a loss by his evasion. But he needed time to make it right in his mind. This was too important to wing it. “They loved it.”
“Of course.” He clasped his fingers behind his neck. “You made it. What’s not to love?”
She didn’t say anything to that.
In fact, she remained completely silent.
After a while, he cracked an eye open. She watched him, still holding her purse, one shoe off and one shoe on, still standing right by the door as if scared to move. “What’s up?”
“You’re acting…weird.” She hesitated. “You seem different. Kind of like…the old you. Not that the current you is bad or anything. But you didn’t drink. And you’re relaxed, and teasing me, and it’s nice.”
“It’s because of you.” He sat forward and held a hand out for her. To his surprise, she didn’t hesitate. She came over and placed hers inside his trustingly. “Like I said, around you, with you, I am different. I’m me again.”
Her cheeks flushed with color. “Why? Is it because we…you know?”
“I already answered a question.” He forced a smile. “Now it’s your turn.”
She smirked, amusement coming to life in those beautiful eyes of hers. They hadn’t played Truth or Dare since college, but it seemed fitting tonight. “Oh, we’re playing that game, huh?”
“Yep.” He smoothed her hair out of her face and bopped her on the nose. It was so tiny and cute. “Truth or dare. You answer honestly, or you succumb to a dare.”
A small laugh escaped her, and she sat down beside him, curling her foot under her ass as she turned to face him. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to get a heck of a lot dirtier than it was ever meant to be?”
Well, if that’s the way she planned to play, he wouldn’t complain. But he had a different game in mind. One that showed her just how serious he was about her. He might not be good enough for her, but he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be, and that had to count for something. Right?
But still, some small part inside of him felt guilty for how happy she made him. The men on his team wouldn’t get the chance to be this happy. They’d never get to hold a woman in their arms, or fall asleep with a warm body pressed against them.
Why should he?
“Do you think I want it to be dirty?” he replied.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re Steven. Of course you do.”
For some reason, this made him laugh. He laughed so hard his sides hurt, and then he laughed some more. And Lauren? Yeah, after staring at him with wide eyes at first, she laughed just as hard, and just as loud, as he did. And it felt fucking amazing. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been so amused, and truth be told? He wasn’t sure he ever had been.
This, right here? This was all he needed to be happy. His Lauren. He’d been a fool not to see it all along.
“Shit,” he said, swiping the tears of laughter off his cheeks. When he glanced at her, she was red and breathing heavily, her cheeks wet. Smiling, he smoothed his thumbs over her soft skin, drying hers, too. They locked eyes, and for the life of him…
He couldn’t look away.
Slowly, her gaze dipped down to his mouth, and her lids drifted shut. It would be so easy to kiss her. To forget all about the future, and defining who they were, and figuring their shit out before they got naked again. So damn easy.
But for once in his life, he didn’t want to do that.
He wasn’t looking for a quick fix or an orgasm.
So he pulled back. “Your turn to ask a question.”
“Oh. I guess that was a question, huh?” She licked her lips, her small pink tongue darting out to tease him, making his decision to be good even harder. “Okay, uh…did you like baking today?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled at her question. “It was all right, but I liked what we did on the counter even more.”
She bit down on her lower lip. “Me too.”
His dick hardened even more in protest at all this talking. “My turn.” He took a deep breath. “Are you too scared to take a chance on me?”
She fidgeted. “I…no.” She paused. “I don’t think I am.”
Relief filled him, and he couldn’t help it. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her with all the excitement that filled him at her answer. When he pulled back, he trailed his knuckles down the side of her face and smiled. She smiled back.
“Ask me anything.” He pulled her against his body. There was a moment where she stiffened, and he was sure she would push away from him. She didn’t. Instead, she curled up against him like that was where she belonged all along. “I’ll answer.”
She rested a hand on his heart. It sped up. “You said that you finally felt like you, for the first time in forever, when I kissed you. I wasn’t aware that had changed.”
Silently,
he thought about it. Really thought about it. “I wasn’t, either, until last night, when you were sleeping. That’s when it hit me. I haven’t been myself since I came home. Since I left my team, and the SEALs.”
“Oh.” She tipped her face up to his, staring at him with so many unasked questions. And, oddly enough, he was ready to answer them all. To finally open himself up to someone, completely, and trust that it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. “Do you miss it?”
“Every damn day,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I’m not sure how to be me without my team behind me, watching my back. And the reason I lost them haunts me every day and night. I dream about them. About what I could have done differently.”
She shook her head sadly. “You can’t do that to yourself.”
“Yeah, I can. It was my fault.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d never admitted it out loud before, but it was true. “And that’s all I’m gonna say on that matter.”
She stiffened, going a little bit pale. “I don’t believe you.”
He closed his eyes, reliving that day in hell. Gunshots sounded in his head, and blood splattered on the dirt and sand in front of him, and the screams of his men filled his head. When his superior told him it was a raid to check for any ammunition in an abandoned warehouse, Steven sensed something was off with his story.
But he hadn’t called him on it.
“Well you should. I killed them.” He swallowed hard. “I killed them all. It was my fault.”
He could still hear Morgan as he shouted it was a trap. He hadn’t finished his sentence before a bullet hit him in the throat.
He choked on his own blood, and no one had been able to save him.
Not even Steven.
The rest had fallen, all around him, and the only one to walk away from that fucked up day had been him. To this day, he still couldn’t figure out why.
He should have died, too.
If he had called his superior out on his lie, they would still be here today. And he would still be with them, keeping them safe.
“Steven…”
A tear escaped her eye, and she quickly wiped it away like she didn’t want him to see. Too late. A part of him wished he could cry, too. Grieve. Move on.
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