He just wasn’t sure what to do with that thought yet.
When he heard the door above him open, he glanced over his shoulder as Maura stepped out. She leaned over the wooden banister facing him. “Since it’s still warm out, I thought we might eat out here on the deck. What do you think?”
He took a moment answering, his gaze drifting over her. She’d showered after they got home and changed into gray sweatpants and a white V-neck that showed a hint of cleavage—enough to make him notice.
What’s that cliché? The woman could make a burlap sack look sexy.
Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, still slightly damp, lifting in the light ocean breeze.Again, he had the urge to run his fingers through it to see if the strands were as soft as they seemed.
He must have taken too long to answer because she frowned. “Or we could sit inside if you want.”
KC shook his head to get his brain and mouth working again. “No, no. Out here is fine.”
Her smile lit up her face again. “Great. Then I’ll bring out the plates and utensils.”
She spun around and sashayed back toward the door, and he found himself appreciating the view for a beat longer than he should have. He muttered under his breath and turned back to the grill, adjusting his stance to relieve the uncomfortable pressure below his belt. Less than twenty-four hours in, and he was already in trouble. Four weeks were going to feel like a lifetime.
Moriah placed her fork and knife on the empty plate in front of her and pushed it toward the center of the table. “That was the best meal I’ve had in ages.” And she meant it. She’d barely touched her sandwich at lunch after losing her appetite over the deal she’d made with KC, but now she felt more relaxed. “Everything tasted delicious.Thanks so much for making dinner. You’re an excellent chef.”
While they ate, they’d talked about a variety of safe subjects—the town of Whisper, the beach, old movies, current events, even the weather. It had been easy. Comfortable. Peaceful. Nothing personal had come up, and for a little while, she’d almost felt normal again. Like she could be anyone she wanted to be. Someone free and safe, without a care in the world.
No one else would know the difference.
But she would.
Swirling the dark red liquid in his glass, he smiled at her. “The pleasure was all mine. I love to cook, but don’t get a chance to do it often.”
“Well, I’m glad you had this opportunity, since I benefited from it.”
She watched him take a sip of wine, her attention catching on the simple movement—the tilt of the glass, the slow swallow, the brief flick of his tongue against his lip.
How the heck was she supposed to concentrate on anything but his body? He was the epitome of male perfection. His muscles rippled whenever he moved, and she longed to run her fingers and mouth over everyinch of him.
Heat crept up her neck, and she quickly dragged her gaze away, focusing on the table instead.
He was exactly the kind of distraction she didn’t need.
Clearing her throat, she searched her brain for something else to talk about. “So, what do you do in the military? Which branch are you in?”
“The Navy. I joined when I was eighteen, two weeks after my high school graduation. I became a SEAL when I was twenty-three.”
“Wow, really? That’s a big thing, isn’t it? I mean, I don’t know much about the military, but everyone has heard about Navy SEALs these days. How long have you been one?”
“Twelve years, but I think I’m finally beginning to burn out.” He paused, then grunted. “Huh. That’s the first time I’ve admitted that to anyone except my brothers and uncle.”
Tilting her head, she eyed him curiously. “Why do you think you’re burning out?”
He relaxed against the back of the chair, stretching his legs out under the table. “I guess I’m just tired of being in the worst countries in the world, seeing the evils that exist, and fighting the scum of the earth. I can be out of the U.S. for months at a time, and then I stay in my apartment near thebase or here when I have some extended time off. I don’t own anything except my car. I don’t know. Maybe it’s time to retire, buy a house near the base, and settle down. Leave the fighting and secret operations to the younger guys and start training the newbies.”
“Younger guys?” she asked, incredulously. She quickly did the math in her head. “How old are you, thirty-five?” He nodded in agreement. “I’m twenty-seven, so thirty-five doesn’t sound very old at all.”
“It is in the SEALs. I’m actually the second-oldest guy on my team by one year. In my business, you can burn out quickly. Sometimes I’m surprised I’m still there. But leaving my teammates is a big decision. They’re like family, and for a lot of the guys, I’m sort of their big brother.”
“As I said, I’ve heard of Navy SEALs but never knew what they were besides being this group of tough guys everyone talks about. Well, that and when they’re the heroes in romance novels.”
He chuckled as he rested his hands and wine glass on his chiseled abs. “Romantic heroes, huh? I’ve spent weeks in the middle of nowhere with those guys, without showers and other amenities. I can honestly tell you, there’s nothing romantic about it.”
She giggled, and he continued. “I’ll give you a little military history lesson. SEAL stands for Sea, Air, and Land. It’s an elite group formed by the Navy under President Kennedy in 1962. Most of the candidates who are chosen for SEALs’ training wind up dropping out because it’s so intense. We go on clandestine operations that other units can’t for one reason or another. We can be sent in under any conditions or to any location, but many of our training and missions involve water of some kind. Usually, it’s our way into or out of some foreign country, unless it’s landlocked, of course.
