A Sexy SEAL Novella Anthology (5 page)

His lust satisfied—at least temporarily—Sam
sauntered into the kitchen with a smile on his face and the warm
beer he’d forgotten in hand.

“What can I do to help?” he asked, coming up
behind Bryanna to wrap one arm around her waist. When he pulled her
tight against him, he realized his lust wasn’t nearly as satisfied
as he’d thought.

“Sam,” Bryanna protested with a laugh as he
nibbled his way down her throat. He nuzzled her robe aside so he
could taste the sweet silk of her shoulder. But before he could
lift his hand to get to the rest of her curves under that robe, she
pulled away. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said with a wicked
grin, reaching out to play with the collar of her robe. She wore a
real one this time, the berry colored fabric soft and silky and not
a bit see-through.

“You shouldn’t be in here. You should be out
there,” she said, turning to wave her hand toward the living room.
When she spotted the beer still dangling from his fingers she
grabbed it and had it turned upside down, draining in the sink
before he could protest. She skirted around him and opened the
fridge while he was still frowning at the empty bottle.

“Here. Here’s a fresh beer,” she told him,
sliding it into his hand while turning him toward the exit. “You go
on out and relax. I’ll have dinner done in just a few minutes.”

He wanted to protest.

He didn’t want to relax. He wasn’t even sure
he wanted dinner. He did want Bryanna, though. He wanted to watch
her slap together her famous tuna fish or attempt to do something
edible with canned soup. To talk with her about what she’d been up
to, or what he’d been doing while he was away. To simply enjoy her
company the way he usually did.

Better yet, he wanted to decipher the look
in her eyes, to figure out what was wrong.

Because something clearly was.

“Bry—”

“I’m sure you worked your butt off during—”
she broke off, a combination of worry and dismay flashing in her
eyes before she corrected, “over the last few months. You should
relax. Go into the living room, put your feet up. I DVR’d some
football games. Watch one, or check out the new Patterson novel I
picked up for you.”

“I’d rather stay here.” He added his most
charming smile. But before he could reach out to use any of his
other charms, Bryanna stepped back.

“I need to cook dinner, Sam. You know it’ll
take all of my concentration. So go. Just,” she made a shooing
motion with her fingers, “Go.”

Obviously, he had no choice.

He and his beer went into the living room to
relax.

He scrolled through the games and
appreciated that she’d caught all the ones he’d have wanted to see.
Then he turned off the TV.

He lifted the stack of four novels from the
coffee table, the books clamped between his thumb and pinkie. They
all looked good. But he set them back down, unread. He drank the
beer in three swallows, then paced the room.

It looked the same.

When he’d been growing up, not a month went
by that his mom didn’t change something. The furniture arrangement,
the paint on the walls, the curtains on the windows. She had bins
of pillows and doodads she’d alternate regularly. It’d always
freaked him out to have to stand in the doorway for a good long
second before he was sure he was in the right place.

But not Bryanna.

Pacing back toward the kitchen, he grabbed
the stuffed penguin from the couch, tossing it in the air as he
walked. Bryanna had the good sense to know that her place looked
great. Comfortably stylish, he supposed. And when it was right, she
didn’t screw it up changing pillows or scratching the hardwood
floor when she hauled the couch across it. His girl, she knew when
she had a good thing, and she appreciated it.

Just like he appreciated her.

He glanced into the kitchen, watching as
Bryanna tossed colorful greens in a big bowl with two wooden
spoons. She was going to a lot of trouble. He didn’t offer again to
help. His girl was stubborn, he knew. And he really did appreciate
that she was putting on one hell of a welcome home party for him.
His game on TV, a fancy meal hot from the kitchen and mind-blowing
sex. He tossed the penguin back on the couch and blew out a
breath.

It was a hell of a contrast to his last few
weeks.

That’s why he felt so weird, wasn’t it?

“Dinner,” Bryanna sang out, setting the bowl
of salad she’d been tossing earlier on the small gateleg table next
to the window. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Fancy,” he commented as he pulled out a
chair for her before taking the salad and setting it on the table
himself. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, though. I’ve
been living on C-rations. One of your world famous tuna sandwiches
would’ve been fine with me.”

“I wanted to do something special,” she
said, looking up at him with a sweet smile. Rolling around naked
together had worn away a little of her makeup—or maybe he’d licked
it off—so her lips were bare and her eyes even more sexily smudged.
Looking at her put that feeling there again, the indefinable one
that lodged deep in his gut.

It freaked him out. He wasn’t sure if it
freaked him more because he didn’t understand it, or because a part
of him did. But figuring she’d gone to too much trouble to put
together a nice evening, he set it aside to think about it later.
And that, he told himself as he stepped back into the kitchen for
the bottle of wine, wasn’t chicken shit. It was simply
consideration.

And maybe if he kept telling himself that,
he decided as he sat across from Bryanna, he’d drown out the
clucking in the back of his head.

“You made this?” he asked after he’d scooped
up an obligatory forkful of salad and realized it tasted damned
good. “I’m impressed. I had no idea leaves and grass could be so
tasty.”

“It’s the dressing, I think.” Her eyes
danced as she took her own bite. “And of course I didn’t make it.
You know perfectly well that I’m a lousy cook. The reason my tuna
fish sandwiches are famous is because they’re about the only thing
I make that is edible.”

“Nah, it’s the pickles and hardboiled eggs
you mix in with the tuna fish that makes them famous.”

Her laughter bubbled out, as bright as the
blonde curls floating around her face.

“Tansy delivered dinner,” she explained,
hurrying up when the oven buzzer sounded. “But I ordered it, if
that makes a difference. It took me two days to decide between
cheesy lasagna or a garlic braised chicken.”

“What’d you pick?” Please, let it be
lasagna. He was so in the mood for a fat helping of carbs with a
side of crusty bread.

“Lasagna, of course,” she called from the
kitchen. “I know you like fish best, but I figured you’d been on an
island all this time, you probably weren’t in the mood for
seafood.”

“You’re right. I swear, I spent so much time
in the ocean that one night I actually checked to see if I was
growing gills,” he joked as he carried the salad plates to the
kitchen sink.

“Then you’ll like the lasagna,” Bryanna
said, making Sam’s brows arch when the word rushed out so fast they
almost fell over each other. “You should see the instructions she
left. I’m pretty sure the owner’s manual for my car came with less
details.”

“Looks like you followed them just fine,” he
decided, watching over her shoulder as she lifted a healthy slab
out of the foil pan. When his words made her almost bobble the
spatula of cheesy pasta goodness, he tucked his hand under hers and
guided it to the plate waiting on the counter.

“What are you doing in here? You should be
sitting there enjoying your beer,” she chided, turning so her body
rubbed against his. Sam looked down, enjoying the way that little
movement shifted the lapels of her robe open just a little,
offering a tasty view of her cleavage. Before he could wonder if he
was hungrier for her or the richly scented lasagna, she pressed one
palm against his chest and pushed. “Go, relax. I’ll bring
dinner.”

“I cleared the salad plates,” he said,
lifting his hand to show her before setting them in the sink to her
right. “And I drank my beer.”

“I didn’t notice,” she said, sounding so
horrified he frowned. “Sorry, I’ll get you another one.”

She hurried around him but before she could
reach the fridge, Sam grabbed her arm.

“Bry, what’s going on?”

“On?” she repeated. He’d have bought that
surprised look on anyone else’s face, but he knew Bryanna. She got
a little crease between her eyes when she was really surprised and
it wasn’t there now. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I came to see you. I want to spend time
with you. I’m not here to cop a meal or get laid. Or, not just for
food and great sex,” he corrected with a grin. His smile slid away
as he frowned down at her, wishing he knew what was going on in
that complicated brain of hers. “I don’t expect you to wait on me.
I don’t want you serving me. I’m a big boy. I can pull my
weight.”

“I’m just trying to welcome you home. You’ve
been working so hard I figured you deserved to be a little spoiled
for one evening.”

Since she followed that statement up with a
hot, wet kiss, he couldn’t argue.

“Just one evening,” he decided when his
mouth was free again. His head was still buzzing, so he figured
that was the reason he took the beer she offered and, when she
gently pushed him toward the door, he returned to the table without
another word.

But buzzed and horny didn’t change the fact
that he didn’t want Bryanna playing fifties housewife. He’d grown
up watching his mom cater to his dad’s every need. To Sam’s
knowledge, the old man had never once emptied the dishwasher, done
a load of laundry or cleared a table.

“Here you go,” Bryanna said, bringing in
dinner. “Enjoy. Then tell me everything you have planned for the
next couple of weeks.”

“Training, mostly. I’ve gotta stay in shape
for the PST. Physical Screening Test,” he explained when she
frowned. “I’m currently top of my class, and I plan on staying
there.”

“Oh, Sam, that’s wonderful.” Her face lit
with delight, Bryanna reached over to squeeze his hand. “I’m so
proud of you. That’s better than Eli and Noah did, isn’t it? Look
at you, beating those two. Have you told Noah yet? I think Eli’s in
Cairo. Maybe. I got a box a few days ago from him with Christmas
presents addressed from there.”

While Bryanna went on and on about how Eli
always sent his dad and brother’s gifts to Bryanna’s and hers to
their dad’s house, Sam ate his truly delicious lasagna and waited
for an opening. Eventually, she stopped to take a drink, probably
because all the talking had parched her throat.

“I’ll be heading for Georgia after the first
of the year,” he told her, looking forward to the trip almost as
much as he was already missing her. “I’ve never been there before,
but I hear it’s one helluva place for parachute training in
January. I’ve jumped before, but never in bad weather. Is it weird
that I’m looking forward to it?”

Snagging a third piece of garlic bread, he
grinned as he contemplated the question. Weird or not, he figured
it’d be great training. Maybe they’d get some big storms. Snow,
even.

“I haven’t been to Georgia but I flew over
it on my way to South Carolina one time with my Aunt Lori. Do you
remember Lori? She married a guy named Lou Larson. He’s an Army
Colonel. Before that she was engaged to that sweet man who was in
the Air Force. What was his name? Manny? Of course, Uncle Chris was
Navy like Dad, so Russell joked that she’d be hitting the Marines
next.”

Sam tossed the crust of bread back on his
otherwise empty plate and frowned. Why did she keep changing the
subject whenever he talked about training?

“Is something wrong, Bry?”

“Wrong?” That something that he didn’t
recognize flashed in her eyes again before she shrugged off his
question. “What could be wrong with me wanting to give you a
wonderful welcome home?”

He simply stared. Sam considered that stare
one of his finest weapons. It was filled with patience,
stubbornness and immovable determination.

And it only took three seconds to break
through Bryanna’s own wall of stubbornness.

But she didn’t break easily. She sighed,
pushed her fork through her barely eaten dinner, then tossed it on
the plate with a clatter.

“Really. Nothing is going on. It’s just that
you’ve been gone a long time. Immersed in training, totally focused
on a single goal.” She fiddled with the unlit candle as she spoke,
twisting it round and round, tilting the taper this way then that.
“I just figured that for your welcome home, this evening and maybe
a few more, it’d be better if you put all that aside. Focus on
other things. You know how Eli says too much focus on anything can
make it blur.”

She said that last with the exaggerated roll
of her eyes she habitually assigned to her older brother. And just
like that, the weirdness was gone. Bryanna was his girl again.
Sexy, sweet and fun, the woman he focused on when things got
crazy.

Sure, she was usually happy to talk about
his career. Hell, she was his best sounding board. Was that what
was wrong? Was it one of those modern men things where she wanted
him to be all sensitive to her needs and be her sounding board or
something?

His gaze slid over that sweet face he saw so
often at night before falling asleep and he mentally shrugged. He
could do the sensitive thing if it made her feel good.

“Okay. Let’s focus on something else,” he
agreed, getting to his feet and gathering dishes. “Why don’t you
tell me about work. How’s the bank biz?”

“What are you doing?” Blue eyes round with
shock, she sounded so astonished, he felt like a total jerk.

“Stay there, let me do this,” he ordered
before Bryanna could rise or stop him. “You want me to relax, I
want me to relax. With you. And you won’t relax until the KP is
done. So I’m doing it while you sit there and enjoy a little
downtime.”