SEAL by Fate Page 15

  “Don’t get caught up on the rich thing. Trust me, I’m not spoiled.” He smiled and his eyes sparkled.

  “I didn’t say you were, but let’s face it, this place is amazing.”

  He shrugged, stretching the cotton of the T-shirt to capacity. The wine must be breaking down walls because, for the life of her, she couldn’t think why she hadn’t jumped his bones yet. He was sexy, smart, and when he talked they had easy conversation. And his hands…oh brother, his large hands. What ground they could cover on her body in such a short span of time.

  “I guess.”

  “Oh, come on. Are you modest?”

  He laughed out loud. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that word directed toward me.”

  “At least you’re laughing now and not in that crabby mood still. It was insufferable.”

  “In my favor, I have been turned on only to be shot down at least a dozen times over the last few days.” His eyes twinkled in mischief.

  “You’re cute.” She winked, feeling her cheeks warm and her inner thighs tremble. “I won’t fall for that. I know the real reason. You’re itching to get out there and find the bad guy, and instead, you have to stay here and babysit me.”

  He gave his head a sharp shake. “Not true. I’m here, just where I want to be.” The soft lilt to his voice made her nipples tighten. Remembering how his cock pressed her bottom made her mouth salivate.

  “Sure. We’ll leave it at that, but you’re allowed to love your job. My mom always said, “Find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life’.”

  “I love that saying.” He eased back into the chair, bracing his feet on the bar under the table.

  “I must have thought about us…in bed…at least a hundred times.” Had she just said those words? Or did she imagine that she’d voiced her thoughts. When a grin lifted the corner of his mouth, she knew immediately that she’d allowed them to slip past her lips.

  His eyes darkened and she felt the pull between them grow stronger. “I like this side to you. I don’t have to wonder what’s on your mind because you speak it.”

  “Oh, you don’t find it childish?”

  He blinked. “Childish? Whatever for?” He brought his bottle to his lips and drank thirstily.

  “Duncan didn’t like when I was, well, vocal.”

  He snorted. “And you were with the guy why?”

  She laughed. “Good question.”

  “I think we need to stay busy.” He stood and strolled toward her, his eyes staying upon her. She swallowed hard, wondering if “stay busy” was code for “sex”? Lord help her, if he made one move in that direction she’d forget protocol and dive right in. He held out his hand, palm up. She stared, and he laughed. “You have danced before, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you dance with me?” He lifted a brow.

  Her heart fluttered at the idea of being in his arms, bodies pressed together, and she was afraid she’d make a fool of herself by asking for him to make love to her. “Sure.” She downed the rest of her wine, laid her hand into his, and he helped her up. He led her several feet to the open area of the floor and he circled his arms around her waist as if he’d done it a thousand times before. She situated her hands on his broad shoulders, enjoying how his muscles clenched under her palms.

  Remembering how he’d teased her while they were stuck in the car, telling her in graphic detail how they’d make love and soon. Yes, she wanted that and now. He grazed the tips of his fingers over her exposed skin and goosebumps awakened, scattering her arms. His free hand settled at the base of her back, his strong fingers pressing into her muscles, stimulating her senses.

  Good thing he couldn’t see through her clothing because her nipples were hard and her panties were wet. She was excited…beyond excited. Without thinking, she lowered her head and kissed the dip of his throat, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

  They moved as if their bodies were in synch. She should have known dancing would be no different than the other connections they had together. Strong and bewildering. There was no man she’d ever met that seemed this close with her.

  Lowering her hands down his back, she felt the powerful muscles beneath the T-shirt and a soft moan reached her ears. She liked knowing that she could do this to him—knowing that he felt the attraction too.

  He stroked her back with his fingers, moving slowly to her arms, around to her stomach, grazing his thumbs along the underside of her swollen breasts. She became the guitar and he was the guitarist. Her limbs and torso were the strings. Sweet, gentle music played from her body.

  “Ah, Gray. How do I become so lost with you?”

  “My hands, they want to touch all of you, roam over each delicate, soft curve and dip. I can’t help myself.”

  She kissed his skin again, this time rolling her tongue along his neck. “How did we get here?”

  “We drove.” He chuckled but it fizzled.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed each knuckle. Then he turned it over and his tongue darted out to lick the center of her palm. “Yes, I understand what you meant. There are some mysteries in life that we’re not supposed to understand completely.” He took the tip of her pinky between his lips and suckled gently.

  She sucked in a breath, quivering and wobbly. She’d never had her fingers sucked on before and she liked it. A lot.

  His gaze met hers and she held it, then lowered to take in the curve of his lips, how beautifully they were rounded, meant for her kisses. “This is all crazy, a whirlwind, but I can’t help myself. I want you to make love to me.”

  “Sweetheart, I would love—”

  18

  THE BEEPING OF his cell phone paused his words.

  He growled in frustration.

  “You need to get that, don’t you?” She blinked.

  He frowned. “I should, but I don’t want to.”

  “No, you should. I understand. It could be about the case.”

  With a deep moan, he stepped away from her and went to his phone, reading the screen. “It’s Jamison. I need to step out for a moment and take this.”

  She followed him inside and he headed into the office and closed the glass French doors behind him and she crossed her arms over her chest, still reeling from what they’d shared—what they could have shared until the intrusion. Needing to get her head back on straight, she left the kitchen and stepped into the living room. Although it was furnished with luxurious items, it still had a comfortable feel. From the large, sturdy couch and chair that would fit brawny, masculine men to the stone fireplace that demanded all the attention. The built-ins were lined with horse statues, framed pictures of Gray when he was younger and until recently and a picture of a woman who must be his mother. Gray looked so much like her.

  She stopped and stared at an elegant painting on the wall. She wasn’t an art authority, but it was obvious the piece was an original. The bold strokes and vibrant colors reminded her of Gray, which made her grin. She was now comparing him to works of art.

  One wall was covered with a glass shelving unit and lined with a variety of books. She recognized a few big suspense authors and some not. Were they Gray’s books or his father’s? Maybe both. She took one book off the shelf, a western romance with the name Cowboy Paradise. She opened the cover and read the message from the author and Stormy smiled. There were so many things left to learn about Gray.

  Hearing a soft click, she replaced the book and listened. Someone was at the door. Who was coming inside? Gray would have known if his father was coming home. Wouldn’t he?

  Quickly surveying her surroundings, she searched for something to use as a weapon and settled for a statue of a horse. Holding the piece high above her head, she waited behind the door as it slowly opened as if the person on the other side was uncertain.

  The petite brunette took a step inside, and when she turned, saw Stormy with a statue held high in the air, the woman’s mouth dropped open and her h
ands came up in defense.

  “I’m sorry.” Stormy lowered the makeshift weapon, feeling her heart drop into her feet. “I-I didn’t know…wait, who are you?” Maybe she lowered the statue too soon.

  “I’m Hannah.”

  Stormy recognized the name, but could she be certain. “How did you get in?”

  “I used my code. I’m a friend of Mr. Carlisle. Wait…who are you? What are you doing in here? I’m calling the cops.” She took her phone out of her pocket.

  Stormy placed the statue back onto the table. “No, don’t do that. I’m here with Gray.”

  The other woman blinked. “You’re with Gray? He’s here?”

  Nodding pathetically, Stormy took a step back, giving the woman some room. “We just got in a few hours ago. He’s in the office on a business call.”

  “Ah, okay. I didn’t know he was coming in. Mr. Carlisle asked if I’d keep an eye on the place. Are you and Gray…?” She twirled her finger through the air as if she couldn’t come up with the right word.

  “Oh no! No. No. We’re just…” What were they exactly? “Friends. I’m sorry about the statue. I’m a little nervous. I didn’t expect anyone.”

  The woman scanned the room. Probably making sure nothing was missing. She was pretty and voluptuous with deep brown eyes. “So…, this is shocking.”

  “This was the woman Gray broke it off with. His high school sweetheart.

  “I should go.” Hannah took a step toward the door.

  “No, don’t. Gray should be done soon and I’m sure he’d like to say hello. Can I get you something to drink? Lemonade? Water? There’s even an open bottle of wine.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” After threatening the woman with a statue, Stormy felt she needed to do something to make it up to her.

  “Okay. I’ll take a glass of wine.”

  Five minutes later they were sitting and sipping wine. “Gray told you about me, didn’t he?” Hannah asked.

  Stormy debated her answer. She didn’t want to lie to her, but she also didn’t want her to think she and Gray had been talking about her negatively. “He mentioned that he’d been seeing someone here in his home town.”

  The woman nodded and gave a small smile. “I was heartbroken when he broke up with me, even though I knew I deserved it. We were on different pages.” She plucked at a loose thread on her jeans. “He’s not an easy guy to get over.”

  Stormy believed every word. “I’m sorry.”

  Lifting her shoulder and letting it drop, she sighed. “Are you sure you and Gray aren’t…”

  And she still couldn’t work her tongue around the words.

  “No. We’re not. In fact, we just met recently.”

  “Well, he’s a catch. His father has kept me updated over the years about Gray’s happenings. I’d be happy for him if he settled down.”

  Stormy was almost relieved when Gray stepped out onto the porch and Stormy could excuse herself to allow them to talk. There was already an awkwardness between them and she didn’t need to add to it.

  She busied herself filling the dishwasher, wiping down the counters and finishing off cleaning the kitchen. Crossing the living room, she pulled back the curtain and looked out. Hannah and Gray were hugging. Feeling like she was invading their privacy, Stormy went back into the kitchen and waited. When Gray finally stepped back into the house, she was innocently standing at the counter.

  “Wow. I didn’t expect that meeting,” he said.

  “She seems very nice. Sweet.”

  “She is. Very much so.”

  Stormy wanted to ask if there were any leftover feelings between them because that hug she’d witnessed looked pretty darn close, but she didn’t allow herself to go down that road. Instead, she swiped her damp hands down the thighs of her jeans and reworked her brain.

  “It’s late. I’m tired and I know you must be too.” She took a step, but he met her at the threshold of the door.

  He cupped her jaw, looking down at her. “Is this where you say that we can’t do this?” he said while pressing his body against hers. “I want you to stay. Please stay.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “I just…can’t.” She raised her hand to her lips, choking back a sob. What had changed for her? She wasn’t sure. Before the call, before the visit from Hannah, all gave time for the locks to come back into place. What was she thinking?

  “Tell me, Stormy. Is it the visit from Hannah?”

  She moistened her lips. “Maybe. Yes. Somewhat.” She gave her head a clumsy shake. “I saw you and her hugging.”

  “That was nothing.” He smiled. “I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

  “You and I, we’ve been through a bucket list of things in such a short amount of time. I’m not one to jump into things, even if I acted impulsively by running from the church. That’s not me.”

  “No one expects you to be impulsive, or anything but who you are.”

  “We don’t even know each other.”

  “That’s an excuse.”

  “Maybe.” She folded her arms.

  “I don’t want to pressure you. Okay?” He took a step to the side to allow her to pass. Stormy didn’t look back as she stepped into the hall and continued upstairs, feeling a heavy weight on her shoulders.

  In the bedroom, she closed the door and hated that grief washed over her. Had they been living in a fantasy world? A magical world where Gray had become the bright star leading her way. A man who felt so much like home that she could forget she didn’t have one. For the first time in her life she didn’t have a clue what the hell she was going to do.

  She went to the window and hugged herself tightly, wishing it were Gray’s arms wrapped around her. Outside the stars twinkled and the snow was melting. This night should have been different. If the call hadn’t come, they would have been making love, she would have been opening herself to him completely.

  Why had she pulled away?

  Really, she had no clue. It was natural to fear the emotions fluttering through her. After all, she’d only been broken up with Duncan for forty-eight hours. Forty-eight hours? How was that possible when she felt like she’d known Gray for years? She wasn’t sure who she could trust, but she felt like she could trust him. He would protect her, never deceive her. In such a short time frame she’d found someone who offered her affection, gentleness, and kindness, and she’d been with Duncan so long and he’d never offered her these things.

  She looked toward the door. What if she went to him, told him that she’d turned away because she was scared. Would he deny her? Or would he welcome her?

  If she went to him, she could feel his hands on her body. Feel his slick skin. Sweaty and bulging. Her inner thighs trembled in desperation.

  Hannah had said he was a catch. A great guy. Had Stormy really needed another woman to tell her how special Gray was? No. She’d gathered as much the moment she’d realized he’d carried her unconscious body up a slope for a half mile. Men of honor were the only ones who did heroic things like that for strangers.

  Leaning against the cool glass of the window, she blinked back the tears filling her eyes. She could hear his heavy footsteps as he made his way past her bedroom, pausing at her door. Would he knock? Would he demand an explanation? And then his steps continued down the hall.

  Going into the adjoining bathroom, she pulled off her shirt and jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and made her way to the bed where she crawled between the cold, lonely sheets.

  She was crazy. That’s all this could be. Stormy could be in Gray’s arms and, instead, here she was alone in a king size bed.

  Fluffing her pillow, she dropped her head into it, but she had a restless energy that not even the five-hundred-count sheets could dismiss.

  Her breathing was heavy as she lowered her hand to cup her warm, moist mound, wishing her own fingers could relieve some of the yearning between her thighs, but nothing matched the desire for Gray. Awareness p
rickled down her spine. He was probably in his own bed by now. Was he thinking of her? Wanting her?

  She closed her eyes and sighed. Lord help her, where do they go from here?

  Opening her eyes, she stared into the darkness. Watching the light from the clock swirl around the ceiling. Could she forget everything? Just make love with Gray and allow life to unfold and reap the erotic benefits. She was bound to him by some unexpected force that before he walked, rather rolled, into her life she would have never thought possible.

  The man was a stranger though.

  But she knew him. Deeply. All the way into the center of her bones.

  Would she be betraying Duncan?

  How could she betray a man she never really loved? Never really knew. A man who never really loved her.

  Her heart raced with the knowledge that she was falling for Gray. “This is crazy,” she whispered. She was lying here alone, and for the first time, she knew where she belonged.

  A warm flush rushed from her roots to her toes and her nipples tingled. She had to be brave. She had to make a choice that would change her life.

  *

  Gray heard her before he saw her. He’d left his door open, maybe hoping she’d change her mind and come to him. Now here she was. Sunlight in the darkness.

  He reached over, switched on the lamp and his breath caught in his chest. She was breathtakingly beautiful. A dream to a poor man’s eyes. She wore a see-through white, wispy gown that not only fit her perfectly but accentuated every feminine curve. She looked like an angel. The fabric hugged her breasts, displaying them to his advantage, making his mouth water. The cut of the bodice swathed her slender waist and flared hips then draped into a skirt that reached a seductive part of her lush hips. The gown was a flawless combination of seduction and modesty. Made to shred a man’s insides. He couldn’t speak and, for what seemed like an eternity, she stood there, her hands clasped tightly together as if she were pleading. Didn’t she realize she’d never have to plead for anything because he wanted to give her everything.

  “I want to be close, Gray,” she whispered. Her eyes dazzled like precious gems. “I tried to stay away. I really did, but this is where I should be tonight.”