SEALed with a Kiss (Alpha SEALs Book 2) (7 page)

Alison stretched out on her sofa, a generous glass of Merlot in her hand.  The entire evening had been pretty surreal so far, so she was just going with the flow.  Maybe she’d wake up in a few minutes from this delicious dream in which a hot Navy SEAL was standing in her kitchen, cooking her dinner after a long day.  It had to be too good to be true.  Taking another sip of the full-bodied red, she felt her body warm.  The second glass was definitely taking the edge off of her stressful day.  Angry parents, sick kids, long hours—how could this be only day one back on her shift?

The aroma of the dinner Evan was cooking wafted across the open floor plan of her townhome to where she relaxed in the living room, and she smiled as she saw him shuffling around in her kitchen.  His broad shoulders and muscular chest looked oh-so-tempting from here.  Maybe she
shouldn’t
keep enjoying this second glass of wine.  At the moment, he looked positively scrumptious.  Almost enough to make her forget that she didn’t date younger men.

She could get used to a man cooking for her.  Bringing her a glass of wine.  Helping her with the groceries.  So what if it was the middle of the week, late at night, and she had to be back at work at seven in the morning.  This was pure heaven.

After a twelve-hour shift and two hours of unscheduled overtime, she’d finally left the hospital feeling exhausted and frazzled.  Wiped out after her first day back.  Swinging by the grocery store to grab a quick meal had seemed like the best possible option for the evening. 
That, and lots of chocolate. 
She’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she somehow hadn’t even noticed the two hundred plus pounds of solid muscle heading her way.  Huh.  Like most women wouldn’t notice a Navy SEAL headed straight for them.

Evan had nearly scared her to death in the parking lot.  She’d jumped a mile high after he’d called out to her.  After the recent incident with Rebecca’s stalker in her not-so-distant-memory, having a massive man dressed in dark clothes address her while she was out alone at night had sent shock and fear quaking right through her.  The fact that Rebecca’s stalker was in jail didn’t completely settle her nerves—it just proved there were assholes like him out there.  Luckily, she’d realized a moment later that it was Evan.

But still.

In those few seconds that it took her mind to play catch up with her body, she was frozen.  Literally trembling in fright.

Evan realized he’d scared her, too.  He’d been so sweet, gently caressing her arm as they’d stood there.  Reassuring her.  For a guy with such a macho, bad-ass career, he was pretty damn gentle when he wanted to be.  When he was with her.  Part of her had wanted to wrap her arms around his chest, hugging him tightly and feeling his solid warmth and muscular strength.  Inhaling his scent.

But that would’ve been entirely inappropriate.  Damn her sudden urges to only date men with husband potential.  Flings were fun, easy.  Evan was fun.  And more tempting than she’d originally thought when they’d first met.

Still, when Evan had offered to cook dinner for her, she was too tired to argue.  Too surprised to put up any sort of fight.  Maybe there were a million reasons why she should’ve turned him down—the first of which being that he seemed
very much
into her.  And try as she might, she was attracted to him.  Maybe they could be two people who just had dinner together sometimes.  Friends did that, right?  The fact that she’d seen Evan more in the past few weeks than she’d seen other friends all summer didn’t mean anything.

She let her eyes drift shut for a minute as she relaxed back into the cushions.  Her hot shower followed by a glass of wine was doing her in.  The garlic and marinara scent of the spaghetti sauce permeated the room and made her mouth water.  Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute, dinner would be ready….

She must’ve actually fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, Evan was softly rustling her, trying to wake her up.  She met his intense blue gaze, noticed the way his large frame crouched down beside her, and smiled.  God, he was beautiful for a man.  Handsome face, brilliant blue eyes…smoking hot body.  She felt heat rising to her cheeks and was thankful she hadn’t uttered any of that aloud.

Maybe she should be embarrassed that she’d fallen asleep on her sofa while she had company over, but this was Evan.  Things were easy with him.  If he were a man she was trying to impress, she’d have been in the kitchen with him, flirting and sashaying around.  But with Evan?  She’d felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in her living room.

“Hey, Ali,” he said, his voice low.  It soothed her just hearing it.  The timbre was deep, comforting.  The way his words washed over her reminded her of warm caramel.  It was rich.  Decadent.  And she liked the way he called her Ali when he was being sweet and gentle with her.  The rest of the time he always said Alison, but he’d called her Ali when she’d had her asthma attack and when he’d comforted her in the parking lot tonight.  Did he even realize it?

For a brief moment, she wondered what he’d call her if they went to bed together.  If he kissed her, teased and caressed her body, would he still call her the nickname he’d made up?  Would he call her Alison or some other name reserved for intimate lovers?  He
had
called her baby a few times, but that was more jokingly, like he’d been trying to lay on the charm.

No sense in even wondering how he’d address her if they ever ended up tangled in the sheets, because that was never
ever
going to happen.  But still….

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, eyeing her closely.

She yawned.  Stretched languorously.  “Sorry I fell asleep.”

“No problem.”  His eyes lit up with his smile.  “You had a busy day.” 

“Yeah.  You could say that.”

He took her hand and helped her to her feet.  “I had to spar with Patrick and Christopher all afternoon.  Busy doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“I had to treat a pediatric burn victim.”

His face darkened.  “You win.”

They walked over to the kitchen table, and Alison sank into a chair as Evan insisted he’d get her some food.  He seemed proud of himself for cooking her a decent meal, so she went with it.  That and the fact that she’d just woken up—carrying a plate of steaming hot spaghetti over to the table didn’t seem like the best move at the moment.  “That’s a contest I never want to win,” she said with a sigh.  “It’s just too damn sad.”

“I’ve seen a lot in my years in the Navy—but nothing is as hard as looking at an injured child.  It eats me up inside to deal with monsters who’d hurt innocent women and children.”

Alison glanced up at Evan, seeing the anger cross his expression.  He’d probably seen more than most guys his age.  Heck, he’d probably seen a lot more than her.

She brushed some of her hair back from her face, taking a bite of the food.  It tasted delicious, the Italian meatballs pairing perfectly with the spicy sauce.  So what if it wasn’t completely from scratch.  It was much better than the quick salad she’d intended to have.

She wondered how well Evan really knew Rebecca or her daughter.  The whole team seemed to hold an affectionate spot in their hearts for the two of them—either because they’d all come together to protect Rebecca during the stalker incident or because she’d won over their hardened SEAL team member. Patrick’s nickname was “Ice,” after all. 
Which reminded her….

“Rebecca said Patrick’s nickname is Ice.  Do you have some kind of crazy name, too?”

“Crazy?” His eyes sparked as he watched her.

“You know.  Some macho, made-up SEAL name no one else knows about.”

Evan laughed, a deep hearty sound.  It sounded loud in her normally quiet townhome, and Alison realized that she liked it.  She liked his presence here, too, she had to admit to herself.  Maybe even a little bit too much.  He filled up physical space with his large frame, but his personality warmed her home as well.  He was friendly and teasing.  Caring.  Tough.  There were so many different sides to him, and a part of Alison longed to see all of them. To know
all
of Evan.

“All the guys end up with a nickname—either in BUD/S or sometime soon after when they become part of a SEAL team.  It’s not exactly top secret stuff, though.”

Alison watched him, enjoying the grin on his handsome face.  He had a bit of a five-o’clock-shadow tonight—not very prominent, since he had blond hair.  The bit of scruff did manage to make him look older though.  She decided she liked it.  He stretched, gripping his muscular hands together as he flexed those massive arms.  Evan was so,
sooo
the exact opposite of the last guy she’d dated.  How had she ever thought she’d be interested in a buttoned-up accountant type?

Evan was daring and adventurous.  His very job was one most men could never hope to achieve.  She wasn’t sure how many Navy SEALs there were, but it couldn’t have been a heck of a lot.  Those tests were grueling—she knew that much.  She expected guys like him to be cocky, arrogant.  Maybe some of them were, she thought, recalling Brent.  Evan was confident, yes, but not in an obnoxious way.  He was comfortable in his own skin.  Friendly.  Although she had no doubt he would fight to the death to protect those he cared about, he didn’t go around flaunting his power or strength.  It just was.

Starting anything with Evan would be a bad, bad idea.  But how many men would cook dinner for a woman they barely knew when she’d already said they were just friends?  Either he was just an extremely nice guy or else extremely confident that he’d somehow convince her to change her mind.  Licks of heat coursed through her at the idea, and she thought of the many,
many
ways Evan could touch and caress her with those large hands.  She bit her lip as she watched him.

“I’d give my left arm to know what you’re thinking right now,” Evan admitted, his voice rough.

“Nothing.”  She couldn’t hide her smile.

“You’re trouble.” Evan smirked.  His blue eyes danced as she met his gaze.

“Tell me about this nickname,” she said, taking a sip of her wine.

“Oh, it’s nothing too cool.  The guys call me ‘Flip.’”

“Flip?”

“Yeah.  I was a swimmer when I was younger—lifeguard, too.  You couldn’t keep me out of the water.  Anyway, one weekend before BUD/S we all went cliff diving.”

“Cliff diving?”

“Yeah, out in California.  It’s kind of a daredevil, thrill-seeker type of thing.  Mostly for the young and foolish.  We’d hike up these massive cliffs out there—the view was pretty spectacular.  Then we’d line up, jump off the edge, and land in the ocean.”

She looked at him in horror, and he grinned.  “Not an adrenaline junkie, huh?”

“Definitely not.”

“Yeah, it might not be good with your asthma anyway.”

“Evan—”

“Yeah, yeah.  Back to my story.  Cliff diving is dangerous, but that’s part of the fun.  The rush.  I’m not dumb enough to try it anymore, but hell, I was young then.  And don’t get me wrong—the thrill of it was exhilarating.  Some of the other guys jumped off, shouting and howling as they landed in the water below.  I decided that I had to show them up. Why jump off a cliff when I could dive or do some trick?”

“You did a flip.”

“I somersaulted through the air.  One of the craziest things I’ve ever done, because I could’ve hit my head on the rocks.”

“You could’ve hit your entire body on the rocks—splat.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.   “We see injuries in the hospital all the time from people being reckless.  That’s dangerous, Evan.”

He chuffed out a laugh.  “I’m a Navy SEAL, Ali.  My entire career is dangerous.”

She frowned as his words washed over her.  He was right.  Cliff diving was probably one of the least dangerous things he’d done in his lifetime.  Those guys deployed to God-knows-where, fighting dangerous enemies, getting right in the line of fire.  She didn’t even know what he did—couldn’t—because it was so highly classified.  Fighting with drug lords, terrorists, and insurgents was probably par for the course in the line of duty.

The idea of Evan in harm’s way didn’t sit well with her.

“Are you worried about me?” he asked, cocking his head.

“Well, yeah.”  Her stomach flipped as she met his gaze.  Butterflies that hadn’t been there earlier let loose when he looked at her that way.  He reached across the table and clasped her hand, his thumb running over her knuckles.  Shockwaves rocked through her at his gentle touch.  His hand looked so large holding her own, but somehow it was gentle.  Reassuring.

She swallowed nervously, sparks sizzling through her entire body.  For a moment, she imagined those hands running all over her heated skin.  Touching her.  Caressing her.  Kneading her breasts.  Trailing across her stomach as they went lower….

“Don’t be,” Evan said, flashing an easy grin.  She snapped out of her daze, pulling her hand back before she did anything she’d really regret.  “It’s dangerous, yes, but we’re well trained.  That’s why I’m so exhausted that I can barely move tonight.  We train hard and fight harder.”

“And then you came over and fixed me dinner,” she said, her voice soft.