A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(30)

Lauren jerked her gaze to his, unable to stop her mouth from dropping open. “You carved him…for me?”

He hitched a shoulder but didn’t look at her. “A few of these pieces were inspired by you, actually. Like those gnomes over there? Mandy told me once you had a love affair with garden gnomes.”

Lauren could only blink for a second. Not a single man in her life had ever done something so sweet before. She pivoted toward him and threw her arms around him. “This has to be one of the sweetest things anybody’s ever done for me. Thank you.”

He chuckled, his hands falling to rest on her waist. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s beautiful. I love it. That had to have taken you months to do.” She pecked his stubbled cheek, then pulled back. She turned, intending to ask him about the puppy sign, when a large cross seated upright on an eye-level shelf caught her eye. It was tall and thin, much like the ones littering the war cemetery, but with an intricately carved design around the edges. She traced her fingertips over the name carved into the wood. “The young man who died.”

Trent made a sound of acknowledgment as he came to stand beside her but didn’t otherwise offer anything more. A glance at him found him staring at the cross with sightless eyes. No doubt lost in memories.

She laid a hand against his arm. “You should hang this on a wall.”

He shrugged. “Don’t know where to put it.”

She studied him for a moment. He was stoic and withdrawn as always. Needing, somehow, to lighten the heaviness suddenly hanging over him, she carefully picked up the cross and turned it over to look at the back.

“Just needs a hook. You can get those in any craft store.” She carefully tucked the cross under her left arm and took his hand, tugging him behind her as she made her way back into the living room.

He stood silent as she scanned the room. His furniture was sparse and practical, the space immaculately neat and clean. It honestly looked like it had been done up for an advertisement. The only human touch in the room were the pictures of his family on the mantel above the fireplace. She wanted to ask how he slept in this place, but she knew the answer. He didn’t. At least not well.

“There.” She tugged him around the couch and stopped in front of the fireplace. “On the wall. Or you could just set it on the mantel, I suppose, but it deserves a place of honor, because clearly he meant a lot to you.”

When she looked over at him he was staring at her, blue eyes alight. He gave a slow shake of his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and turned. “Come on. Dinner’s getting cold.”

*



Lauren set the last glass into the top rack of the dishwasher and closed the door. Dinner had been…awkward. They’d made small talk, but tension had risen so high she’d expected something to shatter at any second. All the things they weren’t saying to each other rose like a living, breathing entity. There was also an unrestrained hunger in Trent’s gaze she’d never seen before, and it made her shiver.

Over the last twenty minutes, since they’d left the table, they’d cleaned the kitchen together, but the small talk had dwindled to only what was necessary to accomplish their task. Variations of “Hand me that plate? Thanks,” and “You really don’t have to do those.”

It made her insides shake. She had no idea what the hell happened now.

She pushed the button to start the dishwasher, then leaned back against the counter beside Trent. “You’ve been very quiet.”

He turned to her, his hands settling on her waist, and leaned into her. Whatever she’d been thinking deserted her. Trent was aroused. His erection was a thick bulge behind his zipper.

“Sorry. I’m nervous.” He lifted a hand, his gaze following as he stroked his thumb along her lower lip. “I haven’t done this in a while, and you’re, well, you.”

She let out a quiet laugh. “That makes us even then, because so am I.” She lifted onto her toes, closing the gap between them, until her mouth hovered an inch from his. “Trent?”

“Hmm?” His gaze dropped, his voice taking on a distracted edge.

She flicked her tongue against his lower lip. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Whatever had held him back up until this point seemed to fray. The same man who’d always been reserved and almost docile in her presence growled as he claimed her mouth. His hands shook as he cupped her ass and pulled her hard into him, rocking his erection into her soft belly.

Lauren couldn’t stop a quiet moan from leaving her. God, it was only a kiss. It wasn’t even their first. Instead of tender and coaxing, he was fierce and demanding. Heat flicked along every nerve ending, lighting that ember in her belly to a full-body burn. Shivers chased each other over the surface of her skin, leaving goose bumps, and everything south of the border became a hot liquid mass of need.

When she wound her arms around his neck and pushed back, rocking her hips into the intense connection, Trent leaned his forehead against hers, his fingers curling almost painfully into the flesh of her ass. His breaths blew harsh and ragged against her skin. “I don’t know if I can be as gentle as you’re going to need me to be. If I’m too rough, I need you to tell me. You’ve never been shy with me before. Please don’t start now.”

Was he really afraid he’d hurt her? She opened her mouth to reassure him, but he furrowed his brow, halting the words before they could leave her tongue.