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I mean, technically, we’ve spent the entire afternoon together. Neither of us paid for lunch because Ryan picked up the tab for everybody. Still, a date–or a sort of date–isn’t about spending money. It’s about getting to know each other and that’s what we’ve been doing. But I’d thought we’d been friends getting reacquainted. I didn’t shower this morning, my hair is up in a ponytail, and I forgot to pack deodorant.
“I’m going to get us reservations at a good restaurant.” His lips aren’t exactly smiling. He’s not teasing. Is he flirting? Or asking me?
“You don’t need to?—”
“I want to treat you to something special. You okay with that?”
He steps closer and removes his shades. My heartbeat slows. He cups my chin, his nose rubs mine, and then his head dips closer and his lips brush over mine. Tingles cover my skin all over. The perimeter fades, and all I see is him. Attentive dark eyes so intense I feel his gaze in my quivering knees. Cool, salt-tinged breeze envelops my heated limbs and fills my lungs. The side of his index finger caresses my cheek. The corners of his lips turn up into a shy smile.
“Also wanted to do that.”
The boyish smile returns, and I’m dazed. He links his fingers with mine, and we return down the promenade. My heartbeat hits a staccato rhythm.
Blessed unicorns and all things merry. Knox Williams just kissed me. On his own volition. Because he wanted to.
I’m fairly certain my heart will never beat in the same rhythm again.
CHAPTER 13
Knox
Sage’s cheeks glow. She looks up at me like I’m all that and more. I’d be lying if I said she was the first to look at me like that. But she’s the first that makes me feel like I need to do everything in my power to prove her right, to live up to what she sees.
As a SEAL, especially based in San Diego, a fair share of women expressed interest. But I was never sure if it was the trident or me that earned the come hither looks. And the thing about a trident, sure, some say it’s forever…and yeah, in some ways it is. But it wasn’t my forever.
Sage possessed the hero worship eyes way back when. She was far too young and in high school. I saw it as more of a little sister thing. I’m an only child, but from television and movies I gathered younger siblings chased after older siblings.
When she came on to me at barely seventeen, she threw me. For a few reasons. One, the obvious one, the move was completely unexpected. Two, I’d seen her as a kid until an hour before that moment. But I felt that kiss everywhere.
I’d backed up and almost fled the scene, unsure my dress slacks would hide my reaction. I’d still been in my whites, and that suit had fit well my first year. Four years later, those pants gripped tighter. I’d gained muscle everywhere, ass and thighs included. As a graduation gift, my mom bought me new dress whites, a sign I wasn’t the only one who recognized the pants were pushing the line of decorum.
I chalked my reaction up to having spent too much time at the academy and not enough getting laid. Besides, she was my best friend’s little sister. And she was seventeen. I was shipping out and she had college in front of her. So many reasons to put that kiss behind me.
And here I am, over a decade later, with her slender hand in mine. My reaction to our kiss? Powerful. But this time, she’s old enough. I’m no longer in the Navy. And her brother sent her to me for protection. A responsibility I hold sacred.
Everywhere we go, I scan the crowds. Alert. The chances whoever came after her would find her here on the other side of the country are slim. But it is a possibility. If it’s connected to Sloane’s disappearance, which is our leading theory, then in all likelihood, the man was a hired gun. A professional.
“Did you get your three miles in?”
She checks her watch and grins. “I did.”
“So, walking. Is that required by the doctor?”
“Not necessarily. My cardiac therapists wanted me to run. And I did for years. But I hate running.”
That has me nodding along.
“Why are you smiling?” She touches my arm in a playful gesture and I tug on her ponytail. “Do you hate running too?”
“Me? Nah. I love it. It’s one of the things I’m good at.”
“Yeah. Of course. You. Sam. Tons of people.”
“Doesn’t mean a thing. If you didn’t like it, you did the right thing by switching up your workout plans.”
“Do you think?” Her question rings with doubt.
“Absolutely. If Trevor was around, he’d give you an earful. If you don’t like what you’re doing, it won’t stick.”
