A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(35)

Two hours later, they stood by the front door. The movie hadn’t done him any damn good. It just meant he had two hours to hold her. Two hours to ponder how big of an ass he was for sending her home in the first place. Two hours to think of all the things he ought to be doing instead. Like carrying her back to his bed and curling around her. And making her breakfast in the morning.

If she noticed his anxiety, she didn’t say anything. Rather, she slipped her hands around his rib cage and up his back, pressing her soft body into his. Back in her heels now, she nearly matched him in height, so that she merely had to lean in to touch her mouth to his.

Her brows rose, the question in her eyes even before the words left her mouth. “So, how ’bout we meet on the weekends? I figure we both have to work early on weekdays, and I don’t know about you, but by the time I get home from work, I’m pretty much worthless.”

He thumbed her chin and pressed another soft kiss to her lips. “Weekends are perfect.”

“Good. See you next weekend, then.” She winked at him, then moved out the door, closing it softly behind her.

For a moment he could only stand and stare at the space where she’d been. If sending her home was the best thing for her, then why did he feel like such an ass? Like he’d just become the one thing he swore he wouldn’t—just another jerk on her list. Didn’t that make him little better than the asshole he’d chased from her party last night?

He shouldn’t be with her at all…





Chapter Nine



Lauren shoved the till closed and offered the customer across from her a friendly smile. “See you tomorrow, Gayle.”

A businesswoman in her midforties, Gayle pursed her mouth, frowning down into the white bag. “You’re ruining my diet, you know, with these scones of yours. I pass this shop every day on my way home and every day I can’t resist stopping in.”

Lauren laughed and winked. “I’d say I was sorry, but…”

Gayle laughed and winked back. “Me too.” She lifted a hand in farewell, then turned, calling out as she made her way to the exit, “Here’s hoping I’m stronger tomorrow.”

As she watched Gayle exit, the familiar rumble of an engine sounded seconds before a gleaming black motorcycle glided to a stop in front of the store. The black beast was gorgeous. The rider seated on it had her heart skipping a beat. Trent. He pulled off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars before pocketing his keys and getting off the bike. He stopped on the front walk, caught her gaze through the glass, and grinned.

Her heart skipped several more beats as she watched him pull open the front door and stride, casual-like, to the register where she stood. They’d texted back and forth every day, but three days had passed since she’d actually seen him. In worn jeans and that soft black leather jacket, he looked more delicious than the cupcakes they’d made this morning.

He leaned his elbows on the glass countertop and peered up at her. “Hey.”

“You look like you’re in a good mood.” She hadn’t seen him this relaxed in all the time he’d been home. It was a good look on him.

If at all possible, his smile widened. “Been a good day. We finished a gorgeous bike and the customer loved it. Thought I’d stop by on my way home to see what time you get off.”

She was tempted to tease him and tell him it depended entirely on him, but bit her tongue. They weren’t alone. Elise was in the back cleaning up the morning dishes. “About six. Why?”

“Thought so. Wanted to stop by the apartment and bring your birthday present down. I’ll need to go borrow Will’s Beamer first, but I thought maybe afterward you might like to have dinner with me.” He reached across the counter and took her hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles. “I know we agreed on weekends, but I couldn’t resist seeing you. Take a ride with me later?”

So he’d spent the day thinking the same thing she had—dreaming up reasons to come see her. The thought made her tingle all over. Neither could she resist.

“It’s ironic you’re here, actually. I planned to come see you tonight. I’ll tell you what.” She lowered her gaze to their hands and turned his palm over, twirling her index finger in aimless circles over the center. “I’ll have dinner with you if you bring me a few of those pieces in your closet, too. I cleared some shelf space for you this morning, over by the door.”

She nodded, indicating the shelf across the room. The idea had formed as she’d stood in his closet, looking at them all, but when she’d walked into the shop this morning, a certain shelf by the door had caught her attention. Trent had talent. His beautiful pieces needed to be seen.

The light left Trent’s eyes, and he pulled his hand back and straightened. “You really think anybody will pay money for those?”

She didn’t have to ask to know why he was tense. His reaction when he’d shown her his closet had told her in no uncertain terms his carvings were private, the workings of his imagination in a painful moment. But she wanted him to know, to believe, that his carvings weren’t as ugly as the memories that had inspired some of them.

She moved around the counter and laid a hand against his chest. “Trust me?”

Frown lines formed around his mouth, those blue eyes working her face. “You really want to do this.”