To Dare a SEAL (Sin City SEALs) (6 page)

Chapter Nine

W
hen he walked into the pool area—scratch that, there were
five
pools, including a topless one—Jack thought he’d stumbled upon a smallest bikini competition. Though the winner was probably at the bare breasts pool. Dante, who was finally crawling out from under a rock named Divorce, offered Cade a quick slap on the back before disappearing behind the trees separating the topless area from the other pools. Jack was tempted to join him, but the only tits he wished to see were covered in a black and white polka dot bikini.

Natalie must have missed the itsy-bitsy bikini memo, because hers looked like something women wore in the fifties. Her suit matched Lucia’s in style, but Natalie’s two-piece revealed a strip of skin beneath her breasts. He’d seen more of her tits when she’d leaned over to kiss him at the bar.

And yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was all the more irresistible for how the little bits of her that were visible set his imagination on fire picturing the parts he couldn’t see.

Cade, Ronan, and Calvin Daniels, the father of the groom and a retired SEAL, were trading stories. Technically, Jack was part of the conversation. He nodded occasionally and sipped his beer.

“What happened last night?” Cade demanded the moment his father took a break from telling stories about his years with the teams to grab another drink.

“Aww, did you miss me?” Jack teased.

“We were pining for you,” Cade deadpanned. “Lucia said you stopped at a motel.”

Ronan’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s no fucking way you won. I’m betting Natalie made you sleep in the car.”

“We hit traffic, so yeah, we stopped,” Jack said. “But I didn’t win the bet.”

“Something happened,” Cade said. “Look at her. You’ve received a warmer welcome from our damn targets.”

“It’s a good thing Natalie doesn’t have an AK-47 right now,” Ronan agreed. “But if looks could kill, I would be taking your place beside Cade on Saturday.”

“She doesn’t need a weapon,” Jack said. The feisty bartender had more defenses than anyone he’d ever met. When he’d brought up her parents, she’d distanced herself. If she’d had the materials, she would have built a physical wall between them. And then when his story had left her feeling too much, she’d added a barrier to the equation—the bathroom door.

“Between her ice queen stare,” Ronan said, “and that mouth of hers—”

“Shut up,” Jack said, his voice firm. Ronan outranked Jack. While deployed, Jack wouldn’t dare tell an officer to shove it. But Sin City wasn’t that kind of hot zone. One more word about Natalie might make Jack snap. And Cade probably wouldn’t appreciate a brawl at the first event of his wedding weekend. Speaking of Cade…

“She’s your friend,” Jack said, turning to the groom. “Why don’t you stand up for her?”

Cade cocked his head and kept his gaze focused on Jack. “Natalie can fight her own battles.”

“Doesn’t mean you should let Irish here talk shit about—”

Her mouth. The full lips that had kissed him like she wanted to devour him. Shit, imagine what they’d feel like wrapped around his—

“About what?” Cade asked mildly.

“Jesus, it was a joke,” Ronan said, shaking his head. “I’m grabbing another drink. Want one?”

“I’m good,” Cade said. “But we’re keeping the bar open another hour, so have at it.”

“I should take advantage of that open bar too,” Jack said.

“Look.” Cade’s gaze met his, stopping him from following Ronan. “I don’t want anything to do with your bet. But I know you care about her, and this isn’t going to end well.”

“She’s beautiful. And yeah, I want to win. But I’m not planning a long-term thing.” He didn’t have a clue how to turn a night, maybe a week, into a relationship. He was willing to give it a shot at some point. But he’d need a helluva lot more than charm to keep something going while he was on the other side of the world for months at a time. That took trust. And he had to face facts. He wasn’t good at trusting anyone—or convincing them to trust him—unless it was in the bedroom or on the battlefield.

The women he met at Bottom’s Up saw his smile and stopped listening to his words. When his charming face deployed along with the rest of him, so did their interest. He had two failed relationships to prove his theory. And Natalie—she didn’t even pretend to trust his smile.

“You care,” Cade said firmly.

“Yeah, I do.” Jack lifted his beer to his lips and turned his attention to the woman in the black and white bikini. He watched as Lucia moved to Natalie’s side. The visible reminder that someone had taken a knife to Cade’s fiancée was impossible to ignore in the bright sunlight. Shit, Lucia wasn’t even his, but he wished like hell he could erase her pain.

And he had a feeling Natalie did, too.

“Cade, does Natalie ever talk about what happened? To Lucia?”

“No.”

“Does she ever say anything about her parents’ accident?” Jack asked.

His teammate’s brow furrowed. “Not much. I know Natalie holds a grudge against the past.”

That makes two of us
.

Jack drained the rest of his beer.

“Why?” Cade asked.

“We saw an accident on the road yesterday,” Jack explained. “It spooked her.”

“And you asked her about it?”

Jack nodded.

“Shit,” Cade cursed softly. “If you push her on that, she’ll push back. Natalie doesn’t open up and let people in. And we’re talking about the same woman who made a deal with me to keep you from tossing stupid pick-up lines at her night after night.”

“Yeah, she made it pretty clear she hates my lines.” Because unlike the other women he’d met in her bar, Natalie actually listened to him. And now she was headed straight for him—or Cade, the man she counted as a friend.

“Stop using them,” Cade said.

“That’s your advice?” Jack didn’t turn to his teammate. He kept his gaze fixed on Natalie as she walked around the pool and came in their direction. The sway of her slim hips, her determined stride—she might not have the smallest bikini, but damn if she wasn’t the sexiest woman at the Greek god’s poolside oasis.

“I’m not giving you advice on how to talk my best friend into your bed,” Cade said, then turned his attention to Natalie as she got within speaking distance. He held out an arm and drew her into his side. “Glad you made it.”

She rose on her tiptoes and kissed Cade’s cheek. “Mufasa’s here and he’d love to see you later.”

“I’ll smuggle him out for a walk around five,” Cade said. He nodded in Jack’s direction. “I heard our friend here wrapped our pup in towels and carried him. He pretended our dog was a child.”

She turned to Jack, providing an up-close view of the swimsuit that threatened to shred his nerves. “Easier than dropping out of a helicopter?”

“I don’t know about that,” Jack drawled. “Mufasa isn’t exactly light.”

“Cade, it’s a good thing you’re taking him out next. But if you don’t want to carry him, I’d suggest borrowing one of the large linen bins by the catering area at the end of my hall,” she said as she held out her room key to her friend. “May I borrow the best man?”

“He’s all yours.” Cade accepted the key and released his hold on Natalie. “But try to bring him back in one piece.”

“A SEAL should be able to keep his head above water at the swim-up blackjack tables.” She turned and started walking toward the pool that featured tables smack in the center.

“You want to gamble with me?” Jack called after her.

Natalie stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, yes.”

Those lips, that smile…

He’d risk a helluva lot to keep her looking at him just like that while she was on her knees, her mouth ready and willing to take him—

“There’s a ten dollar minimum,” she said. “First one to double their money wins.”

She’d set the limit at twenty bucks. Oh, she was willing to play. But she sure as hell wasn’t putting it all on the line. Not yet.

“What’s the prize?” he asked.

“If I win, you’ll spend the rest of the afternoon running errands with me. I need to pick up the body paint favors for the party and a few other things. You can carry the shopping bags.”

Beside him, Cade shook his head and headed for the cabana. If his teammate mumbled a good-bye, Jack didn’t hear it. His world had narrowed down to three little words. Chocolate. Body. Paint.

Yeah, he paid attention when she talked, remembering every damn word of their earlier conversation. And body paint? That sounded like his kind of shopping. He was willing to carry the bags straight up to her hotel room.

“I’m game,” he said. “But if I win, you’ll join me for a swim at the topless pool. And you leave your top behind.”

“Deal,” she said. “But I won’t lose.”

“Me neither, darlin’.” He walked past her and stepped into the blackjack pool. Win or lose, he had a shot at claiming Natalie before dinner tonight—topless or covered in chocolate.

T
he sweet taste of victory was within reach. Natalie counted her chips. She’d won the first two hands, but she was still shy of the twenty-dollar mark.

One more hand—maybe two—and then I’ll swim away from here the winner.

Of course, Jack might get lucky. If dealt the right cards, he could steal away her win. And that wouldn’t accomplish her goal—Jack holding her shopping bags, bored to tears.

But if she added a little distraction… She pursed her lips. Jack understood the basics of blackjack. Still, watching him play the last two hands, she had a feeling he was out of practice. It wouldn’t take much to make him forget all about the magical number twenty-one.

She allowed her left foot to drift through the warm water and brush up against his calf. His eyes widened at the unexpected touch but stayed focused on his cards.

“How did you learn to play?” Jack asked, glancing over at her.

“One of my Thursday afternoon regulars.” She rocked her hips back and forth. The movement was slow and subtle, but it worked. Her opponent appeared to have forgotten about the cards in his hand.

His brow furrowed. “Which regular?”

Or maybe he was following the conversation, not the way the water lapped at her waist while she moved.

“Jonathan,” she said. “He’s a former SEAL who was injured in Iraq. He comes in most weeks and we play cards if it is quiet.”

“Johnny Smith?” Jack frowned and she abandoned the rocking. “The guy who received a silver star for saving half his team after he’d been shot?”

Natalie nodded and focused on her cards as her foot ran up and down his calf. She signaled the dealer for another.

“Didn’t you date him a while back?” Jack asked.

“He asked me to dinner once or twice, but I said no.” She glanced up at him, drawing her foot away. “I don’t date my customers.”

The blonde who’d mistaken the blackjack tables for a wet T-shirt contest leaned over from her stool at Natalie’s right. She glanced at the other woman. Now that was a distraction. But why would anyone bother wearing a white tank top into the pool? The see-through fabric clung to the woman’s mostly bare breasts. The blonde’s bikini top resembled pasties, barely covering her nipples.

“You should try making him jealous if you want his attention,” the blonde said in a stage whisper. Natalie would bet all of her chips that the people at the neighboring table could hear her too. “Mack does it to me all the time, and I always fall for it. Afterward the sex is
amazing
.”

“Who’s Mack?” Natalie had tended bar long enough to know that the best strategy was to steer the conversation away from her personal life and back to Ms. Wet T-shirt.

“My boyfriend.” The blonde nodded toward a large, bald man by the bar. “He’s getting our drinks and then he’ll be right over. You can flirt with him if you want. To make your boyfriend jealous. I promise it will work better than footsy.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Natalie said—loud enough for Jack to hear her—and turned her attention to the game. “And I don’t flirt.”

Jack leaned forward and looked at the blonde. Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie saw his gaze drop to the blonde’s most distracting asset—but only for a second. “She means that,” he said. “‘Go away’ is her default response when a guy approaches her.”

“And you like that?” The other woman appeared shocked as she signaled the dealer for yet another card. Someone—maybe Mack-by-the-bar—should drag her away from the table before she lost too much.

“Yeah, I do,” Jack said. “I know she has her reasons. And one day I’m hoping that she’ll let me in and share them with me.”

“Don’t count on it,” Natalie said as she counted her chips. She’d gone over twenty dollars. She’d won. Thank you God. “I don’t like to share.”

“Darlin’, when it comes to you, I don’t count on anything,” he drawled. “But I don’t give up easily.”

“Maybe you should have.” She pointed to her chips. “Probably would have kept more dignity than outright losing to me.” She smiled. “Time to go, Jack.” She slid off her stool, taking her pile of chips. “We have a long afternoon of shopping ahead of us.”

“Have fun,” the blonde called. “And don’t forget. Make. Him. Jealous.”

“Ma’am.” Jack flashed his charming smile at Mack’s girlfriend. “Right now, I’m so jealous of an injured hero who had the privilege of teaching her to play cards that I can barely think straight. The footsy was just a bonus.”

Natalie frowned as she reached the steps leading to the pool deck. Barely think straight? What had
that
meant? If one conversation could throw Jack’s concentration, it was a miracle he’d survived his first deployment with the SEALs.

“That was almost too easy,” she murmured as the water splashed at her waist. “Almost like you didn’t want to win.”

He stood on the other side of the metal handrail, one foot on the bottom step. “Are you suggesting I threw the game?” he asked.

“I think you were pretending to be distracted by our conversation. The blonde in the bikini top…that’s another story.” She climbed out of the pool, selected a dry towel from the poolside stack, and headed for the lounge chair where she’d left her cover-up. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Jack run a towel over his dripping wet pecs, his sculpted six-pack…