A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(25)

She looked over at him. “Your mom teach you how to cook?”

Trent let out a quiet laugh. “Mom insisted we not get stuck in stereotypical roles. She insisted we all learn to take care of ourselves. Which meant Will and I had to learn to cook and do laundry, and Dad taught Mandy to fix her own car.”

Drawn in by his warmth, Lauren couldn’t resist a smile. A memory filled her mind. “Mandy told me that once. Said she enjoyed spending the time with your dad and learning that stuff.”

He picked up a wire whisk and began to beat the eggs. “And I learned to like cooking.”

“There’s a certain soothing rhythm to it. Mom taught me. My adoptive mom, Mary, I mean. It’s where I learned to love baking. She made the best cookies, and she made them for everything. Every holiday, every church social. Now, whenever I make a batch, it reminds me of her.” She leaned sideways, bumping his shoulder. “Thanks for last night. For staying, I mean.”

Trent shot her a warm smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

Those words from his mouth had the same effect as a glass of ice water dumped straight over her head. Whatever good mood he’d managed to build, he’d just sucked it right back out of her.

Lauren rolled her eyes, somehow resisting the urge to sock him, and turned instead to lean back against the opposite counter. She folded her arms. “Please. Say that one more time.”

He darted a glance back at her, brow furrowed in confusion. “Say what?”

“Put me in my place. Next time I’m going to deck you. I really am. I get it, you know. I hear you loud and clear. Message received, sir.” Eyes narrowed, she mock saluted him, then refolded her arms.

Trent studied her, those intense blue eyes searching her face for so damn long, unease pecked away at her. Well, she refused to run and hide this time. After discovering what his erection felt like pressed against her, to be reminded of her place in his life—again—was infuriating and confusing.

Seconds later, he seemed to make whatever decision he’d been pondering, for he pivoted and crossed the kitchen, coming to a halt in front of her.

“I thought I explained this last night, but maybe I need to make it a bit more clear. Make no mistake about it.” He thumbed her bottom lip, a tender stroke with all the warm familiarity of a lover. “I want you. Getting out of bed this morning was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I knew if I didn’t, I’d have been seducing you out of those pajamas of yours. But I can’t offer you forever, doll.”

His thumb followed the line of her jaw, stroking her skin with such tenderness, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into his touch.

His pretty speech had also served to remind her why she had a crush on him in the first place. Deep down Trent was a good man. But she needed the answer to all the questions rolling around in her head. Good, bad, or ugly, she needed him to know where she stood. Clearly he had his own ideas, and he’d been brave enough to share them with her. She owed him the same in return.

She was going to have to get vulnerable with him again.

“For the record, I went on that date looking for a fling. I’m not sure Mr. Right exists, either. You want to know why I’m still a virgin at twenty-eight? Because I remember living with my birth mother. She went to work, kept the fridge full, but there never seemed to be any time for me. She was always getting ready for another date with another guy. Hell, she slept around so much she didn’t even know who my father was. My adoptive mother, Mary, was the exact opposite. She was Roman Catholic and very involved in the church. She raised me to believe sex was sacred and should be between a husband and wife only.”

Trent tucked his fingertips in his pockets. “Do you still believe that?”

Did she? “No. But it’s why I waited. I didn’t want to be anything like my birth mother.”

He frowned, his intense gaze full of sympathy. “Your parents don’t make you who you are, doll. You are who you choose to be.”

She shrugged, turned her head, and idly stared at the stove clock as the memories of her childhood floated to mind. Going to church with Mary, learning the ins and outs of the religion. “Maybe, but it’s what I feared for the longest time. I even made all these rules, for dating, for how I thought I should live my life. But they were just an excuse to keep people at a distance, to avoid getting hurt. It worked.”

Vulnerability rose over her like a suffocating shroud. Lauren dropped her hand from his back and folded her arms instead. She had no idea if any of this even made sense to him, but she needed him to hear it, to know and understand.

“I went on that date determined to set myself free from all those rules, but last night made me realize something. I can deny it all I want, but I am who I am. I don’t want a one-night stand with someone who won’t remember my name the next morning.

“But I still want what I want. I still ache to know the tender touch of a man’s hands. The intimate heat of his skin. I’m twenty-eight, Trent, and I have no idea what it’s like to make love to someone. Or to be intimate with someone, period. So you can relax. I’m not trying to trap you. I just wanted to lose my virginity to someone I trusted, and I can’t think of anyone who fits that bill better than you.”

She pushed away from the counter and left the kitchen. In the living room, she stopped behind the couch, setting her hands along the top, and stared out the window. Ironically, it was a bright, beautiful day. Not a gray cloud in sight.