SEAL'd Perfection The Complete Collection: A Navy SEAL Romance (6 page)

“No, it’s gotta be the bike,” he replied, leaving no room for discussion. He was still smiling, but his tone let me know his mind was made up and he wasn’t changing it over a dress.

I nodded slowly. “All right, well give me a couple minutes. I’ll throw on some jeans.”

“Thanks.” He stepped inside and closed the front door behind him and the house was filled with his energy and the faint smell of day old cologne. I watched him for a minute, as he strode into the middle of the living room and looked around, as though absorbing each detail of me through the decor. The room felt smaller, and the silence charged with electricity as I realized how intimate the moment was.
What am I thinking? I should have offered to meet him somewhere—anywhere. God, I really am an unfit mother. Who invites a strange man to their home like this?
I reamed myself. Jace turned in time to catch my contorted face as I mentally battled with myself. “Are you all right?”

I forced a smile. “Yeah. I’ll be back.” I hustled away before I could get tangled in my thoughts again.
God, I’m being a total spaz.
I closed the door to my bedroom, paused a moment, and then flipped the lock—just in case. I stalked across the room in three long strides, and flung open the accordion doors of the closet. I’d already done this once before, carefully choosing the dress I was wearing—but in hindsight realized it was all wrong. Not only because of the Harley, but because the night with Jace wasn’t a date, it was just two people having dinner. By wearing a dress and heels—even low ones—I was sending the complete wrong message.

“Get it together, Kat,” I huffed at myself, refocusing my gaze on the options in front of me. I pulled out the pair of jeans I’d worn to drop off Jax, and stepped into them. After shimmying into the jeans, I ripped the dress off, over my head, and threw it to the floor. I grabbed blindly at the stack of shirts on the shelf of long sleeves, and came back with a black sweater that was meant to be worn off one shoulder. I stripped off my bra, pulled the sweater over my head, and went digging for my strapless bra. For a brief moment of insanity, I debated going braless. My breasts were small enough that I could get away with it, but then quickly snapped back to reality and found the bra. After I was strapped in, I fluffed my hair over my bare shoulder and went back out to the living room.

Jace was still standing, considering a large piece of art that hung above the couch. It was an abstract piece—I’d fell in love with it because I liked the colors and found them soothing. At the sound of my footsteps on the hardwood, he turned and smiled. “Wow, now I’m kinda glad you had to change…” he complimented, his eyes raking up and down my body, lingering for a moment on my bare shoulder. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be…I’ve never been on a bike of any kind, let alone a Harley,” I confessed. My body was still tingling with nerves and after Jace’s appraising glances, I was even more wobbly on my feet. The dinner was feeling more and more date-like with every passing second.

“Ahh, it’s nothing. You’ll be a pro by the time the night is over. Come on,” he said, waving me back towards the front door as though we were standing in his house.

We went down the stairs and Jace went to his bike that was parked in my short driveway. It was a monstrosity, huge and hulking, jet black and dangerous looking. My stomach flipped over as Jace handed me a spare helmet that had been strapped to the back. “Come on gorgeous,” he said, patting the seat. I took a few tiny steps towards the bike. I flung a leg over and sat on the leather seat. “Damn.” Jace let out a low whistle. “You were meant to ride a bike, Kat. You look amazing.”

I laughed and relaxed at the sight of his sly smile. He hopped on in front of me and I was jolted forward, pressed up against his back. Every muscle went on red alert as I tried to scoot back and create some space between us, but it was pointless. There was just enough room for both of us, and as the bike revved to life, I somehow nestled even closer. The vibrations of the bike were hitting all the right places, and that combined with Jace’s warmth and scent had me all riled up in a split second, as though a caged tiger somewhere inside me had just sprung free of its cage…
Shit…he’s delicious…
I mused to myself, letting the smell of the leather and his faint cologne mix together in a deep inhale.

“You ready?” Jace called out, his voice louder than the vibrations of the bike.

“Mmhmm.”

“You gotta hold on tight, okay?” Jace called back to me, a moment before he pushed off the ground and started pulling back down the drive. I stared at his back for a moment—his instructions were a mix of both horror and delight. I set my hands on either side of his trim waist, but as soon as we were on the street and picked up a little speed, I wrapped my hands further around him, fully aware of every inch of his body, my mind a factory of naughty thoughts as we rode into the night.

It didn’t take long before Jace started pushing the speed and tightness of the curves in the road, as though he was on some kind of mission to see how far he could push me before I would squeal for him to slow down. My heart was pounding—for a whole lot of reasons—and my fingers clenched tightly together to keep a firm hold on his waist— but I refused to let him know how freaked out I was, and after we’d gone a few miles, I let go completely and let out a loud “whoop” as we raced around a particularly sharp turn. “You’re crazy!” I yelled.

“You like it!” He hollered back, and I just smiled.

We rode so long that I lost track of time, but it was dark outside, and I knew it had to be getting close to at least seven, or maybe even eight o’clock, by the time we pulled into a small parking lot outside a tiny little dive bar in the middle of nowhere. The lot was packed with other bikes, and music was blaring so loud I couldn’t imagine how we were going to hear our own thoughts, let alone talk to each other, once we got inside. However, once the bike engine was silenced, and I removed my helmet, I could make out that the music was actually coming from outside, somewhere beyond the bar.

Jace removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, straightening the spikes back into place. He extended a hand to take my helmet, and hooked them both over the back of the bike. “Sounds like quite the party,” I commented, jerking my head in the direction of the bar.

“Yeah,” Jace replied with a half grin. “It can get a little crazy, but you mentioned you like classic rock, and the guys who play here are legit.”

I smiled at Jace and we started walking towards the front entrance. His hand was dangling near mine, and with each step, I glanced down, wondering if he was thinking of taking mine. I knew it wasn’t a date, but for whatever reason, my hand was gravitating towards his. We reached the door and Jace held it open, giving a tip of his imaginary hat as I thanked him and walked inside. The bar was packed, crowds of people waiting for drinks, but nearly all the tables were vacant. The back doors were open wide and the music was blasting inside. Jace was right—it was definitely my kind of music. The people on the other hand…I hung back a step, waiting for Jace to take the lead again, as I looked around. Nearly everyone was decked out in riding leathers and although I’d just rode up on a big ass Harley, I felt completely out of place.

“All right, this way,” Jace said, placing a hand on the small of my back and leaning in to speak directly in my ear. At his touch, my body jolted upright and shivers extended, fragmenting out from the place his fingers rested. “I have a table reserved for us.”

I let him guide me to the left of the entrance, and up a steep set of stairs, that led to an upper banquet room. The room was vacant but looked like it was normally used for overflow or large parties. On the opposite wall, there was a set of double doors that were propped open to a balcony. Jace flashed me a smile. “Best seat in the house,” he said, leading me through the room and out to the balcony.

It was a beautiful space and had a killer view of the pavilion down below that was teeming with people. A table for two had been set out with a few mason jars with white candles inside, giving off a soft glow. Jace pulled out a chair and ushered me into it before taking his seat on the opposite side.

“Hey J!” A rough looking man appeared and clapped Jace on the back with a firm hand.

Jace jumped up and the two men bear hugged for a moment, both all smiles. “Damon, this is Kat.” Jace gestured to me and I stood, extending a hand, but Damon wrapped me in a tight, bone crushing embrace, just as he had Jace. I laughed when he released me, “Nice to meet you.”

“Damon owns this place,” Jace explained.

“Oh, wow! It’s really…cool.” I fumbled over the word cool, looking at the man decked in riding gear,
cool
seemed a little out of place, but it was the best I had.

Jace smiled at me and then looked back over at Damon. “Thanks for hooking this up, man.”

“Of course! Hey, I’ll send the Mrs. up to get you some drinks, enjoy the show.”

We both thanked him as he departed, and after a few minutes, as promised, his wife—an edgy looking chick with purple streaks in her hair, and possibly more ink than Jace—came up, just as nice and welcoming as her husband had been. She also embraced Jace as though he was a long time friend, and my mind filled with more and more questions by the minute.

When we were alone with two beers, and a basket of fries to split, Jace explained, “Damon and I were in the Navy together a couple of years ago…anyway, when he got out, he opened this place.”

I nodded and sipped at my beer. “That’s cool. I heard you were in the military.”

Jace gave a small smile and nodded. “Yep, still am. Reserves. But when I was active…
that
was a totally different chapter in my life.” He let out a long sigh and I took it to mean he didn’t want to talk about his military career.

We both looked at each other and then out over the side of the balcony down to the ground below. The music had been knocked down a few decibels as the first band of the night took the stage. It appeared the crowd that had been at the bar when we’d arrived had now migrated outside, and were all eagerly awaiting the show to begin, drinks in hand. I wasn’t much for huge crowds, so I was glad to be tucked away in the upper room, away from the chaos. I glanced over at Jace, and got the feeling he might feel the same way. “This is a great spot,” I said. “Thanks for thinking of it.”

He met my eyes and smiled. “I’m glad you like it. So, tell me about you,” he paused, taking a deep gulp from his own glass. “How long have you been at the diner?”

An all too familiar rush of anxiety gripped my heart. I didn’t want to talk about me, at least, not anything that could easily be tied to the horde of memories from the past…which, was essentially
everything
. I shrugged, took another sip, and answered as off-handedly as possible, “A little over a year now. I’m going to school at night as well, for interior design.”

“Nice. I should have you come over to the shop and take a look, make sure it’s camera-worthy,” Jace said with a laugh. I crinkled my brows and he continued, “In a few days, the production crew for my show will be in town for six weeks, filming for the second season.”

“Oh, wow.” If people were in an uproar about Jace now, it was bound to get a lot worse when a camera crew took over the small town. “I didn’t realize…I thought…” I let my thoughts trail off, incomplete. If I said anything else, it would reveal just how much gossip I’d soaked up.

Jace just laughed and drained his glass of beer. “I know, it’s messed up. I don’t know why anyone thinks I’m interesting enough to watch on TV, but for whatever reason, they do. I don’t particularly like it, but hey, it pays the bills.”

“Tattooing in general? Or just the show?”

“The show. I love being a tattoo artist, that’s core. It’s who I am.”

I nodded, absorbing his statement. Military, tattoo artist, badass. All the pieces were coming together, but I had no idea how they all fit into the puzzle that made up the man sitting across from me. “That’s cool,” I replied. “Finding your passion like that and being able to chase it. What is it about tattooing that excites you?”

He stared over the railing, watching as the band set up and our conversation paused completely as the band introduced themselves and began to play. The music was loud, but not as loud as it had been when we’d first arrived. After a few minutes, Jace answered my question, “I think it’s something of a metamorphosis. People get ink for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes it’s just because their buddy got one, or they lost a bet, something stupid. But most of the time, that’s not it, there’s a deep rooted reason behind a tattoo, it’s something that a person wants on their body, likely forever, to express something. I’m flattered they like my designs,”

I nodded, even though I really had no idea. I’d never gotten a tattoo and I had no immediate plans to get one.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m too sentimental, but to me, it’s an honor to make people’s visions come true and help them express it with art. Like…for instance, back when I first started getting recognition, this older lady came to me. Now, when I first saw her—I thought she’d walked into my shop to ask for directions or something, she was totally out of place, but instead, she sits down and asks if I will draw something for her. I’m like ‘sure.’

As she starts describing what she wants, her whole story comes out, and she wants this specific type of rose on her shoulder, and as we’re going along, she tells me it was her mother’s favorite rose. Like her mom grew them and sold them all her life, as it turns out, the mother had passed away, and this lady—my client—wanted that specific rose on her shoulder because she knew her mom was her angel, watching over her shoulder.”

As Jace spoke, I wiped at the corner of my eye, blotting away tears before they could form. “That’s really beautiful.”

“It was, so, I don’t know, for every crazy, off the wall thing, there are more of those moments, where it’s someone asking me to help them express something deeper.”

The music was loud, but had faded from my mind as Jace told his story, and as the whoops and hollers from the people below, got louder, we both blinked and looked down. “Hey,” Jace said, looking back over at me. “Let’s dance.”