A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(28)

You.

He gave himself a mental shake and forced a smile. “You’ll see. Come on. The rice should be about done.”

He shoved his hands firmly in his pockets before leading her toward the living room. Halfway there, she wobbled on the stilts she was wearing and pitched sideways, catching his arm. He caught her around the waist, glancing at her shoes before looking over at her. “Why do you wear those things if you can’t walk in them?”

A becoming pink flush rushed into her cheeks as she straightened, pushing off his shoulder. “Steph says they make my legs look longer.”

He was married long enough to understand the hidden meaning in her shy statement. Namely, that she’d dressed for this date. So he did the only thing he could think of. He squatted at her feet, held out his hand, and peered up at her. “Give me your foot, please.”

She furrowed her brow but did as he asked, and he slipped the shoe off and hurled it in the direction of the foyer. If he didn’t get her out of these damn things, she’d either break her ankle or she’d be in his arms all night. He had plans for her, and they’d never get there if her soft body was plastered against his. He wanted to do this right, damn it. Not prove to her that he was just another selfish, clueless Neanderthal.

When her shoe hit the door with a loud thunk, the corners of her mouth tipped, amusement lighting in her eyes. “Hate my shoes that much?”

“No. I’d just rather you not break your ankle while you’re here.” He arched a brow and held out his hand. “Next foot, please.”

He sent that one to its mate, then pushed to his feet and took her hand, tugging her behind him. As they entered the kitchen, he darted a sidelong glance at her. “For the record?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s right. You look incredible in heels. I’d just rather you not hurt yourself.” He released her hand and moved to the stove. Lauren remained silent, but her gaze seared into his back. He didn’t dare look. If he did, he’d be doing everything he shouldn’t. Right then his whole body burned. How the hell he’d get through tonight without pinning her beneath him was a complete mystery.

It didn’t help that she stepped up beside him, her body brushing his arm. That musky perfume floated around him, teasing his senses, as she laid a hand on his back and leaned around his shoulder. “So, what’s for dinner, tough guy?”

Firmly ignoring the heat of her body calling to him like a siren’s song, he focused instead on the nickname. “Tough guy?”

She had the nerve to smile at him. Playful and, if he wasn’t mistaken, flirty. “Yeah, for a SEAL, you’re rather soft around the edges.”

He couldn’t help his grin. She was teasing him. The minx. Damn. She was in fine form tonight. Some logical part of his brain told him to let her comment go. Taking her up on the clear challenge in her eyes would do nothing but set their whole night off on the wrong foot. Slow. He was supposed to be taking this slow.

Once again, though, his mouth didn’t appear to have gotten the memo. He arched a brow, tossing her grin right back at her. “There’s nothing soft about me, doll.”

She turned back to the pot on the stove and lifted the lid on the rice. “I’d like very much to see that for myself.”

For a moment he could only stare and remember to drag in oxygen, because all his blood was currently seated in his jeans. Fuck. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this damn aroused, and she hadn’t even touched him.

Clearly she intended to kill him with sexual innuendos. When the hell had she learned to flirt like that?

“Rice pilaf.” She picked up the wooden spoon resting on the stove and gave the rice a stir. Like she had no idea she had him by the cock. “Impressive. What else have you got planned?”

She looked over at him, blinking in expectation of an answer, but damned if he could make his tongue work. His mouth had gone dry.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the stove, lifting the lid on the skillet. “Crab cakes, and”—he moved back and pulled open the oven door—“roasted asparagus.”

“I’m impressed. It smells divine and looks delicious.” She turned toward him, a gleam in her eye, and swirled her index finger over his chest as she spoke. “You went all out.”

He stifled a groan. Something was definitely different about her tonight, and if he didn’t find out what—and soon—he’d bust the zipper on his jeans.

He folded his arms across his chest, because he didn’t trust himself not to grab that finger and pull her in. “All right. I can’t stand it. What’s up with you? You’re not yourself tonight.”

He expected a playful retort. For her to toss something else provocative at him that would sever the last thread of his willpower. Instead, a soft pink flush stained her cheeks, flowing all the way up her neck.

Lauren rolled her eyes and pivoted away from him, leaning back against the counter. “I was trying to seduce you. Steph’s idea. Apparently, it’s not working.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. “That explains a lot.”

“Don’t. Laugh. You.” She glared at him and jabbed a pointed finger at his chest, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

The last of his willpower went up in a puff of smoke. He turned toward her and pinned her back against the counter, cupped her ass in his hands, and lifted her off her feet, setting her down on the surface. Eye to eye now, he moved between her sleek thighs and leaned his hands on the counter on either side of her.