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“Oh, my job’s boring,” Alison chuckled. “Government work. Pushing papers around.”
“Yeah?”
“Dad is happy. You know he’s always wanted to see me in the public sector.”“I didn’t know that.” And we were talking about Henry again. Ethical considerations aside, it was impossible to enjoy my fantasies about pulling her into the bathroom and shoving that skirt she was wearing above her hips. At the same time, she begged me to fuck her senseless while also trying to think of her as my best friend’s daughter. The two ideas did not go together.
“Tell me aboutyou,” Alison suggested.
“Me?”
“Are you still with the SEALs?”
“I am, yeah.” Henry’s early retirement was a move I respected for him but could never have chosen for myself. Being a part of the SEALs was who I was.
“How’s that been going?”
“Pretty good. What about that drink I was going to buy you?”
She grinned. “Scotch on the rocks?”
I had to admit; I’d expected her to ask for a screwdriver or something like that. Something youthful and girly. Maybe she was trying to impress me. Perhaps she didn’t want me thinking of her as a kid.
Maybe she reallywasn’ta kid.
Twenty-six was young, but not too young. I would have been putting the moves on Alison if she hadn't been Henry's daughter.
I flagged down the bartender. “Scotch on the rocks, and another one of these.” I pushed the shot glass in his direction.
“Oh, are we doing shots?” Alison asked.
“I am. You don’t need to be.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you drinking?”
“Whiskey.”
“Okay, forget the scotch,” she said to the bartender. “Bring me a shot of whiskey as well, please.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course, I don’thave to do it,” she chuckled. “I’m not pledging a sorority. But it’s fun to do shots with people, don’t you think?”
“You can’t have been doing shots for more than five minutes.”
“I have been doing shots for years now.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Underage drinking?”
“Dad told me stories about the two of you in BUD/S training,” she dismissed. “And I know you weren’t twenty-one when you did your training because Dad wasn’t twenty-one when he did his, and he’s two years older than you.”
“You know a lot.”
“I’ve told you” She said placidly, “I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”
“Do you have a crush on me now?”
What the hell was I doing, asking her that? It wasn’t as if I could act on it if she did.
But I had to know. I was so fucking attracted to her. Maybe I was just trying to feed my fantasies—there was no doubt that it would be more fun to think about her later if I knew that she was also thinking about me.
