My Secret Alpha Step SEAL

by Paula Mabbel

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. I'm looking for Emma.”

  Ridley's voice sent a shiver down her spine.

  “You found her.”

  “Hey, sorry to intrude upon your schedule. I'm...”

  “Ridley.”

  “Yes. I’m glad you remember me.” She could picture his smile at the other end.

  “How did you get my number?”

  “I'm a crafty man, Miss. You called your roommate from my phone so I just called her back and asked politely for your number.”

  “Oh, Mary Anne,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She made a mental note to scold her friend when she got home.

  “Now, don’t be mad at her. I don't know anyone who didn't confess their darkest secrets when I had my way with them. I didn't give her much choice.”

  Emma laughed, glad to see the other guy changing course. “Charming.”

  “I hope you don’t hold bad memories from the horse ride, Miss.”

  “On the contrary, I quite enjoyed it.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I'm glad to hear that. And since we're on such good terms, how would you feel if I asked out?”

  “Like on a date?” She held her breath in nervous expectation.

  “Yes. What do you say, city girl?”

  Emma swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She hadn't taken her attraction to him too seriously, being accustomed to keeping her fantasies to herself. Faced with the reality of his proposition, she had to make a decision fast.

  She liked him, and was thoroughly taken by his rugged charm, but she feared she would just make a fool of herself in front of him. Besides, did he really like her, or was he just curious about her “city girl” allure?

  “Well?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Sure, I’ll have a coffee with you,” she blurted before consciously making a decision.

  “Alright. What do you say about tomorrow?”

  “Sounds perfect. I have courses until 4 PM but I'm free all evening.”

  “Then let’s make it a dinner. Shall I pick you up at 7?”

  “See you then.”

  She hung up, her heart racing like she had just run a marathon.

  *****

  The lame-looking pile of clothes in the middle of her room spoke of Emma's indecision on what to wear that night. Her roommate had teased her for hours.

  Too nervous to eat all day, she had struggled to pay attention to her classes in the morning, the shock of finally having a date — a real date! — being too much to deal with.

  Ever since she had gotten home, she had tried to piece together a nice-looking outfit but ended up more frustrated than ever. She dropped next to the pile of clothes, sighing heavily.

  Emma's intention to bolster her confidence with the perfect outfit while making a good impression on Ridley had backfired; the look she had in mind impossible to obtain with the clothes she owned, and the process of discovering this had made her more nervous than ever.

  She had often dreamed about the moment she would go out with someone, always picturing herself looking breathtaking at her date's side. Up until now, she had only fantasy to sooth her mind, her parents being too strict to allow her on a date.

  She growled, angry at them and at herself, frustrated that her fashion sense had magically disappeared when she needed it the most. Defeated, she grabbed her phone and dialed Mary.

  “Hey, did you finish rehearsals? Sorry to disturb, but I really need your help with something. I need to borrow some clothes. Everything I have looks like it belongs to a middle-aged housewife. From the 70s.”

  She breathed easily when her roommate agreed to come. At this point, she was willing to suffer through Mary's jokes if it meant she would look great at dinner.

  True to her word, Mary arrived sooner than expected and, in less than an hour, Emma was ready. She checked herself in the mirror, satisfied with the casual ensemble. The short denim skirt and plain salmon T-shirt looked pretty, but not like she was trying too hard.

  One glance at the time and she began hyperventilating. Ridley had texted her that he was on his way to pick her up, and that was almost half an hour ago.

  “You need to calm down, girl,” Mary said, passionately chewing her bubble gum.

  “I'm already late!”

  Mary shook her head in disbelief, watching her roommate run around, not knowing what to do first. When she finally managed to settle on a pair of tan sandals, Emma grabbed her bag and ran for the door.

  “Gee, you act like you've never been on a date before.”

  Oh, she had no idea how close she was to the truth.

  “Oh, and, Emma?” Mary called again.

  “Yeah?”

  “Wear protection!” Too embarrassed to move, Emma didn't even motion to catch the condom her fried threw at her. “That cowboy charm could lead you places you never imagined, I'm telling you.”

  Mary's laughter followed her out the door, making her feel even more embarrassed for her inexperience.

  Still not fully recovered from her friend’s joke, Emma hurried to the agreed-upon meeting place, a garden behind her building. Closer to the street, it was an easy place for Ridley to find.

  The fact that he was already waiting for her made Emma feel even worse. If the evening continued in this manner, the date seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

  He turned to her with a smile that started the butterflies in her stomach in a frenzy.

  “Good evening, Miss.”

  “Hi. I’m sorry I have kept you waiting, Ridley. And please, call me Emma.”

  “No trouble at all, Emma. You look amazing.”

  She blushed, looking at her feet.

  “Shall we?”

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. Looking up, she lost herself in his green eyes, lightheaded from all the emotions bundled up inside. She swallowed hard, trying to get a hold of herself. Unable to speak, Emma nodded her agreement and followed him to his sleek pick-up truck, somewhat gracefully lifting herself onto the passenger seat.

  The restaurant he had picked had a beautiful terrace with white wrought-iron tables and dim light from lamps hung sparsely around.

  “I like this place. How do you know of it?”

  “My uncle owns it. He’s a bit of a rebel. Left the ranch a while back to be a chef.”

  “Rebel?”

  “When the oldest son of a rancher doesn't want to continue in his father's steps, that's considered rebelling around here,” he explained.

  The owner himself came to take their order. The men patted each other on the back, the affection between them heartwarming.

  Ridley ordered for both of them, giving Emma the opportunity to watch him in amazement.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Pleasantly surprised to see him without his cowboy attire, she took in the sight of him wearing a casual white shirt, in strong contrast with his tanned skin. Without his hat, she could appreciate the virile beauty of his face. The blond beard gave him a bad boy look, perfectly matching his sun-bleached hair.

  Caught in the act of staring at him, Emma almost choked on her water when he turned his green eyes on her.

  “Are you OK?” he asked, handing her a napkin.

  “I'm fine, thank you,” she mumbled, feeling like a fool.

  Against all odds, however, the evening turned out surprisingly well. The food was amazing, a perfect example of local cuisine, and Ridley acted like the perfect gentleman.

  They had talked about everything with unexpected ease. Once she had her first glass of wine, she loosened her tongue and told him about her biology major, and the struggle of adjusting to campus life. He asked why she chose biology.

  “I want to get into med school.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work. Impressive.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  She looked away, a shadow crossing her face.

  “What is it?” he inquired.

  “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Just boring stu
ff.”

  “I'm a patient man.”

  “My parents,” she began, after a while. “They want me to be a neurosurgeon.”

  “I take it you don’t want that.”

  She shook her head, smiling weakly. “I don’t know. They want me to be someone…prestigious. They’ve always been like this. Always demanding, never asking what I would like to do.” She felt the familiar sting of tears she had gotten used to shedding, crying becoming her only way to deal with the frustration of never being good enough.

  “Well, what do you want to do?”

  “When I was little I wanted to be a ballerina, but they got me a violin teacher. Now, I want to be a pediatrician.”

  “Working with kids?”

  She nodded. “I know it might seem stupid, but…”

  “It ain’t stupid. You might think that ‘cause you feel like you’re rebelling, but wanting to help children is never stupid.”

  Emma looked into his eyes searchingly, surprised he understood. She felt grateful to him.

  He raised his glass, saluting her dream. She felt drawn to him, with all his surprising sides, and gentle nature hidden under that tough cowboy facade. Watching him speak, she felt ripples in her stomach, a warm feeling of contentment easing the tension she had accumulated over time.

  Emma snapped back to reality from her reverie, as she heard Ridley speak with new passion: “…They are allowed to kill the ones they find on state-owned lands, and it ain’t fair. These animals are smart. And you cannot believe how gentle.”

  She frowned. “Kill? You mean horses?” Too distracted from looking at him, she hadn't been paying attention to what he was telling her.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been talking about.”

  “You know they use them as therapy animals.”

  “Horses? Yeah. But I’m not there yet,” he laughed and took a sip of bourbon.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, my rescue center doesn't have the resources for a training program. I would love to expand the organization. It'll only help more horses.”

  She frowned, thinking that she should help him. He looked excited, animatedly gesturing with his hands. She wanted to be part of that.

  “How big of an organization?” she asked.

  “Beside me, there are five other men. Permanent staff, if you’d like. And the occasional volunteer. Sometimes Momma gives me a hand, but she's not official.”

  “You know there are funds for this type of organization, right?”

  “I know, but we cannot afford to pay someone to write us a grant proposal,” he said, sheepishly.

  “I could help, if you want.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I took a course in high school. With my father’s charities and everything, I thought it would’ve been a good fit.”

  “Impressive.”

  “It's really nothing. I would need to know more about your organization, if I am to write a grant proposal, though.”

  “You can come to the ranch.”

  “What? Your ranch?” She blushed, looking away.

  “Yeah. The rescue center is adjacent to my ranch. You could stay there while I show you the ropes.”

  Emma swallowed hard. “I could? At your house?”

  He gave her a crooked smile, the glint in his eyes telling her she would be more than welcomed.

  It wouldn’t be so bad if she accepted, would it? She wouldn't do anything wrong, after all. She would stay at his place while gathering the necessary information, nothing more. Besides, his mother would be there.

  “OK. I suppose I could free up a weekend to see the ranch. The horses, I mean.”

  “Sure,” he grinned and downed the last of his bourbon.

  *****

  She was finally doing it! She was actually packing for a weekend with him.

  “Oh, my God,” she kept repeating to herself, still far from believing what was happening to her.

  Since the evening of their first date, Emma barely had any food, her stomach too busy hosting a dance festival for the pesky butterflies she got every time she thought of Ridley.

  Zipping up the bag, she placed it on the floor and went to take a shower. Under the hot water, she couldn’t stop thinking of his muscular frame towering over her, his scent still fresh in her nostrils.

  She sighed, slipping a hand between her legs. Leaning against the tiles, she rubbed her clit, imagining their bodies tangled in forbidden passion, roughness mixed with tenderness in the way he took her.

  Enveloped in the pleasure of her fantasy, she lost track of time. When she finally got out of the shower, she was already running late.

  She dressed in a hurry, grabbed her overnight bag and bolted for the door.

  “Going home?” she heard Mary from the kitchen.

  “Not quite.”

  Mary squinted at her, looking suspicious.

  “No, no you wouldn't!”

  “What?” Emma tried to act innocently, putting on her flats.

  “Oh, dear. You’re going to his place, aren’t you?” When Emma didn’t reply, she insisted. “What did I tell you about cowboys?”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine, Mary. Can I go or is the lecture not over yet?”

  “Fine, suit yourself. But don't come crying for help to me when you’re in over your head, girl.”

  Blowing a kiss to her grouchy roommate, Emma left. She had rented a car, careful to pick a newer model this time, and could barely contain her excitement.

  She didn't even see the beautiful landscape that had soothed her nerves not more than two weeks ago. It felt like she had held her breath up until she finally pulled up the large driveway. Taking in a deep breath, she stepped out, praying that her wobbling knees wouldn't give her away.

  “There you are!” she heard Ridley's voice.

  “I did say I would come.”

  “I’m glad you kept your promise.”

  She felt small against his over-six-foot frame, the only thought on her mind being how much she wanted to jump into his arms.

  “Let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for her small bag, his husky voice making her body quiver.

  Not trusting her voice, she followed him quietly. Once in the kitchen, she searched for his mother.

  He chuckled. “I live alone, don't worry.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “You live alone?”

  “Yeah. I'm a grown man,” he laughed.

  She took a step back, wringing her hands.

  “You wanted my mother to be here,” he realized.

  “I…No, it’s alright. I’m here for the grant proposal, after all.”

  He nodded, watching her face in confusion. When he let go of her hand, she almost reached to grab his back, but managed to stop herself in the last moment.

  He showed her to the guest room and told her he'd give her a tour of the ranch in half an hour. She took advantage of her time alone to freshen up and try to calm her nerves.

  Back in the living room, she found Ridley waiting for her patiently.

  “Shall we?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

  She nodded, relieved to see he wasn't upset. He guided her to a back door that opened into an enclosure of some sort.

  The surrounding fields were fascinating with their beauty and serenity, but the ranch, where some of the rescued horses were kept, left her in complete awe.

  A couple of lame colts were lazily sunbathing, separated from the newer horses by a sturdy wooden fence.

  “Do they fight?” she asked, fascinated with their size and beauty.

  “Sometimes. But the fence is more for their own safety. They stress easily and it’s best they get used to one another gradually. The last thing this center needs is problems with the rescued horses.”

  She nodded, eager to learn about his world.

  Leaning against him, Emma enjoyed hearing his heroic stories. They walked side by side, while he told her about the time he physically stopped a crew of four men from loa
ding horses into a truck destined for slaughter, or the time he first brought the idea of an official rescue center to a couple of his friends. Most had laughed at him, but one stuck around, becoming his most trusted ally over the years.