A SEAL's Courage (Military Match #1)(64)

“Been a long time, Steph.” He grinned, revealing a dazzling smile that eleven years ago would have taken her breath away. Now it sent more memories flooding through her mind. That playful smile had drawn her in the first time he’d flashed it at her.

“That it has. Last I heard from you, you’d joined the navy. They were stationing you in California.” They’d kept in touch for a while after he went home but had slowly lost track of each other over the years.

He gave an absentminded nod. “Camp Coronado. It’s where I did my BUD/S training.”

Buds training…Where had she heard that term before? Wait a minute…“You were a SEAL?”

He darted a glance at her. “Team three. Moved back here about four years ago.”

She nudged him with an elbow. “Seriously impressive.”

He didn’t say anything, but seemed to draw within himself. His gaze slid off to his right, and awkward tension moved over him. She searched her thoughts for something, anything, to pull him out of what seemed to be heavy thoughts, when her gaze settled on his tie. The sapphire blue stood out against the stark white of his shirt. Damn. That tie meant Gabe was her date.

Well, the only thing to do now was face it head-on. The way she did everything.

She drew a deep breath for courage and tugged on his tie. “Blue.”

His gaze snapped back to her, dropped to his tie, then returned to her again. One corner of his mouth hitched. He nodded in her direction, no doubt indicating the similar color of her shirt. Amusement and recognition glinted in his eyes. “Also blue.”

“That makes you the date I’ve been waiting for.” She couldn’t be sure if she wanted to hug the stuffing out of him or puke on his shoes. Despite everything, it was good to see him. She had to admit, if only to herself, she’d missed him.

He shook his head, reached up to rub the back of his neck, and glanced around him. “Sorry I’m late. Forgot what part of the park we were supposed to meet at. I swore I wrote it down, but I couldn’t find the damn note.”

She lifted a brow. “Nervous?”

For that one small thing, she was eternally grateful. At least she wasn’t the only one coming out of her skin. She’d thought about this moment a lot over the years. Where he was, what his life was like, what she’d do if she ever saw him again. She hadn’t anticipated the power of being in his presence again, though. In the courtroom, she could hold her own. Here with him? Her knees were shaking.

He let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Does it show?”

“Nope. You’re as solid as ever. Don’t feel bad. This date has my stomach tied into knots on top of knots.” Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she punched him lightly in the shoulder. “How the hell are you?”

“I’m good.” Gabe laughed, his gaze sweeping the length of her. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still as sexy as ever. The hair’s changed, though. You had a pixie cut last I saw you. Long looks good on you.”

The husky timbre of his voice made her nipples tighten. Whether consciously or otherwise, he reached out and pushed her hair back off her shoulder, his fingers brushing the skin of her neck. A full-out shiver swept the length of her spine. God, she was doomed. One touch from him sent fire burning through her blood.

“You’re still the same. Same curls, same crooked smile.” He had lines around his eyes now, but she liked them. They lent his appearance a maturity that looked good on him. As if it were possible for Gabe Donovan to get any sexier.

He dropped his hand, his mouth forming a thin line. Something somber moved over him and the playful air between them shifted. “I’ve changed. Parts of me, at least.”

She frowned, trying to comprehend the sudden tension moving over him. That was the second time in five minutes he’d gotten that look on his face. It was subtle but undeniable.

He stared at her for a beat, then slid his hand down his left thigh, inching the pant leg of his jeans up enough to reveal his ankle. Or at least, what should have been an ankle. Instead, there was a metal rod attached to some sort of plastic device. It took all of two seconds to realize what he was showing her. Gabe had lost his leg.

“Oh my God.” Her breath caught in a suddenly full throat as the aching realization punched her in the chest. Her eyes misted, a million horror-filled visions floating through her mind. Namely, how he’d lost it. Was it a roadside bomb? Or a suicide bomber? The thought of him in any one of the possibilities made breathing impossible. God, now she really wanted to hug the stuffing out of him.

She stroked her hand down his thigh, following the length of his leg. The muscle beneath tensed, but he didn’t pull away or ask her to stop. Her hand smoothed over solid muscle, then over the bone of his knee. So he had that much at least.

When she looked up at him again, he stood with his shoulders drawn back, mouth a thin, tight line. Those hazel eyes searched hers. Anxious. Waiting.

Her minded shifted gears, and her face heated. God, what her reaction must seem to him. She drew back her trembling hand and straightened. Pull it together.

“I’m sorry. You surprised me. I’m imagining the pain, how it must have happened…” Despite her best effort, her voice wobbled, and she let the rest of the sentence float off on the breeze. She must look like a blubbering idiot. She was a divorce attorney for one of the best firms in the city. Not much surprised her or frightened her anymore. But the thought of him wounded had her heart in a vise.