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“No,” he said, biting into his biscuit.
Enlisting in the Navy had changed his life. But he’d never been able to pinpoint why his father had risked his marriage to serve. After his first year, he’d stopped looking for reasons. He’d chalked his mother’s request for a divorce up to the fact that the realities of military life took a larger toll on the family members back home than most people realized.
“Then why stay?” she said.
“I learned why I love serving my country.” He set his self-made breakfast sandwich on his plate and focused on Lucia. “It took a while. At first I just wanted to be the best. But even before I joined the SEAL teams, I knew what I was doing was important. Maybe not my day to day, especially in basic training. But I was surrounded by guys my age who were ready and willing to risk their lives to protect people.”
“When you put it like that, everything’s dwarfed in comparison,” she said softy. “You’d inspire anyone to join up.”
He laughed. “Especially when you’re seventeen and fresh out of high school. Before I left Vegas, my idea of freedom revolved around taking my parents’ car for a night, or sneaking out of the house to fool around with a girl. But now I’ve been to places where most of the freedoms I took for granted as a kid, they don’t exist.”
“It changed you,” she said.
He nodded. “I woke up to the fact that I wasn’t in the Navy for myself or for my dad. I fought to join the SEAL teams because serving is the right thing to do. Even if at the end of the day, it just means some punk gets to fool around with a girl in the backseat of a car. At least they get a chance to be kids.”
“Wow,” she said.
“Yeah.” He glanced at her. “I bet you’re regretting asking that question.”
“No.” She looked him straight in the eyes. This time she didn’t turn the injured side of her face to the shadows or dip her cheek to her shoulder. “I go to work at the hospital every day because helping kids who have seen the worst of what life has to offer, giving them a chance to find their way back the same way someone helped me—it’s the right thing to do. I can’t erase their pasts. But I can give them a paintbrush. I can offer a creative outlet that tells them their voice matters.”
“I’m so damn glad someone gave that to you.” He stared across the table and focused on her as he pushed the images of war out of his head.
He’d seen shit that made his skin crawl. Kids carrying guns. Young girls wearing suicide bombs. But he couldn’t let those memories stop him from living his life or doing his job. The best way to fight it was to focus on the present—and the woman he could protect from all the hurtful glances.
Sometimes when he was in the line of duty, it was hard to remind himself that while he couldn’t change the world, he could make a small difference in the lives he touched. That’s what he would do for Lucia. Maybe he couldn’t transform her life, but he would offer her the kind of life she deserved for this weekend. He would make sure she felt cherished. Desired. Valued.
“It sounds like there’s a lot of you in your art,” he added.
“Some of the pieces.” She picked up the last bit of
biscuit. “I’ve done a few paintings for restaurants or corporate offices. Painting as a form of therapy is rewarding. But so is earning a paycheck. Without the added income, I couldn’t afford designer shoes.”
“Your shoes were pretty damn close to a work of art in my book,” Cade said, dropping his voice low. “But I would love to see your paintings someday. Not the ones you make for others. The ones you paint for yourself.”
“Maybe.” The corner of her mouth offered a hint of a smile. “But first I need another biscuit.”
“Done.” He pushed back from the table and paused beside her chair. He locked away the haunting images his job had left behind. Today, he needed to focus on Lucia. Maybe this weekend, they could be each other’s escape. “And I’ll get you something sweet while I’m there just to watch you moan with pleasure.”
Lucia stole a glance at Cade’s perfect butt and allowed the delirium of the moment to sink in. She’d just sent her very own Navy SEAL to fetch her a biscuit. She mentally ticked off the list of times this man could have walked away from her—after the club, when her mask had fallen off, before they fell asleep in each other’s arms—but he’d stayed.
Her cell phone buzzed, drawing her attention away from his perfect backside. She found her phone in her purse, nestled beside her crumpled Post-it. She scanned the text message on the screen.
Need to know you’re okay.
She smiled. How many text messages had she received over the years from her sister that began with those words? It drove her sister crazy that she couldn’t take down Lucia’s demons. But her sister always checked in. And if Lucia needed her, she knew her sister would find a way to help.
How was last night? The opening? Tell me you didn’t go through with the plan.
She glanced at Cade as he surveyed a table littered with breakfast pastries. She’d had that perfect male specimen tied up beneath her last night. Looking at him now, her plan seemed like the best idea she’d ever had. With a laugh, Lucia turned back to her phone and started typing.
I’m so much better than okay, Nat. Don’t worry. I went ahead with it and met someone.
Her reply came back within seconds. One word.
DETAILS.
She chuckled and texted back:
