A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(55)

One thing became clear as the finest crystal: she really wasn’t cut out for flings.

*



Later that week, Lauren stood at the stove, trying to keep her mind focused on her task. Namely, making breakfast. She pulled the spatula through the scrambled eggs in the pan, one ear on the water running at the back of the house. Trent was in the shower. He’d come out soon dressed in just his jeans and greet her with a tender kiss on his way to the coffeemaker. Like he always did.

All the while she’d have to pretend her chest wasn’t caving in.

The date had leaped out at her from her phone when she’d checked her voice mail twenty minutes ago. Their month had come to an end. For the past two weeks, Trent had taken to staying at her place. She went to sleep every night with his warm, solid body wrapped against her back after making love to him until she was too sated to move. She woke every morning to his stubbled face and bright eyes.

But now all that was over, because it was what they’d agreed on.

Tomorrow morning her life would go back to normal. Whatever the hell that was these days. A week from now they had Will and Skylar’s party. She’d have to go back to treating Trent like a friend.

The ache in her chest told her one thing in no uncertain terms: she’d gone and done exactly what she shouldn’t have. She’d fallen in love with him. She couldn’t even be sure when it happened. She only knew the thought of never again getting to touch him, or kiss him, or fall asleep wrapped in his arms was crushing her.

The water shut off, leaving her alone with her twisting thoughts. By the time the eggs were done, he emerged around the corner in nothing but a pair of worn jeans, chest deliciously bare.

Lauren focused on divvying out the eggs. If she didn’t, she’d be pushing herself into his arms, which would get her all of nowhere. The time had come to separate herself from this. The problem was, she hadn’t a damn clue how to do that.

Trent sidled up behind her, settling his hands on her waist. “Tell me.”

Of course he knew something was off. Like she was made of freaking glass.

She shook her head, attempting to step out of his embrace. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Trent slid his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. His voice came as a husky rumble against her back. “You’re not fine. I know your every mood, and I know when something’s wrong. Spill it.”

They’d promised each other honesty, but what the hell could she tell him? How did she do this?

She sighed, tears pricking at her eyes. She’d hoped they wouldn’t have to have this conversation yet, but sooner or later she had to face it. “Today’s our last day together.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his body stiffened against her back.

“That’s what I thought it was.” He released her and stepped away, moving around her to the coffeemaker. “It’s what we agreed on. A month and it ends.”

His voice was low, devoid of any emotion that might clue her in to how he felt.

She nodded and moved to the bread she’d set on the counter earlier, pulling out two pieces and popping them into the toaster. “Yup. We did.”

“So what’s the problem?” Spoken with little emotion. Like they merely discussed whether to go out tonight.

She gripped the counter’s edge until her fingertips hurt. The words burned like acid on her tongue, but she’d spent the last twenty minutes in contemplation, and her thoughts swirled like buzzards over a dead carcass, continually returning to one point. She couldn’t do this with him anymore. “I was thinking maybe we should just end this now instead of tomorrow morning.”

Having poured hot coffee into a mug, Trent returned the carafe to the base and stood silent. Tension rose over him, thickening the air between them. Finally, his facade cracked and he pivoted toward her, brows draw together, blue eyes filled with…misery. With regret. “Lauren…”

Her insides wobbled. She took a step back and shook her head. “Don’t. If you care about me at all, Trent, you won’t tell me what I know you’re going to. I know what this is and what it isn’t.”

His jaw tightened. His nostrils flared. Fists clenched at his sides. For a moment he stared, clearly at war with himself. Then he drew a deep breath and released it, his fists unfurling. “What’s changed, then?”

“Me.” She let out a harsh, bitter laugh and turned to the stove, for something, anything else to look at but the regret in his eyes. “Apparently, I’m no good at flings. I know we agreed on this, but I can’t pretend this isn’t killing me. I’m sorry, but I’m human. And I don’t want to spend the day dreading that moment when I have to watch you leave and not come back. I’d rather we just get it over with now. Go our separate ways.”

While she still had the strength not to beg him to stay.

She stared at his back, waiting for him to say…something.

Finally, he pivoted toward her, slid a hand around her waist, and hauled her against him. His eyes blazed, nostrils flaring. “We have one more night, and I want it.”

“What does one more night matter?” It would only hurt worse tomorrow when she had to wake in his arms again.

Trent didn’t answer, but cupped her face in his palms and sealed his mouth over hers. His kiss wasn’t the soft, tender sips and tastes she’d come to know, either. His lips bruised hers, his tongue thrusting inside, demanding a response. God help her, she gave him one. She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest, and lifted onto her toes to get more of him.