Ryan resisted the urge to smile as he watched the heat blossom over Sarah’s skin.  For a woman intent on arguing with him about everything, this was probably the first and only time he’d rendered her speechless.  A gust of wind blew her hair back, and he again saw the three tiny earrings in her ear.  He never really paid attention to jewelry before, but somehow on her, it was sexy as hell.  That intricate little braid she’d pulled a small section of her hair back in made her look feminine.  He wanted to run his rough fingers through the rest of all that silky hair of hers and see if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Punches?” Christopher asked.  “Do I even want to know?”

“I do,” Lexi said with a grin, turning around before getting into the cab of Christopher’s pick-up truck.  “This sounds like a good story.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Sarah said lightly as Ryan raised his eyebrows.

“Umm-hmm,” Lexi said, glancing between Sarah and Ryan.  “I don’t believe that for a second.  I’m sure the guys on base would love to hear about the CO getting decked by a woman.”

“Have a good night!” Sarah said with a wave, turning to walk down the street.

Her sundress blew in the breeze as Ryan jogged a few steps to catch up, swishing around her shapely legs, and Ryan heard the engine rev on Christopher’s pick-up behind them.  Her hips swayed just so, and Ryan clenched his jaw.  Fucking hell.  Coming.  Going.  Sarah was irresistible all the same.

He resisted the urge to smirk as he saw the teeny little mini cruiser Sarah was gazing at.

“Don’t tell me that’s yours.”

“Of course.  The new ones have amazing gas mileage.  I don’t need some gas guzzler that pollutes the air and wastes natural resources.”

“Of course not,” he commented dryly.

“I’m guessing you drive a monstrous SUV large enough to hold the entire SEAL team—who you probably don’t actually drive around, so there’s no need.  Your gas mileage is horrible in the stop-and-go traffic around Virginia Beach, and when you park on base, you need two spaces for the monstrosity.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Lucky guess?”

“What makes you think I need to double park? Maybe I’m quite adept at driving large things into tight spaces.”

Sarah did a double take, and Ryan chuckled.  “You’re always ribbing me.  I couldn’t resist.”

She glanced up at him, her petite frame barely coming up to his shoulder.  Holy hell she was a tiny little thing—which made it all the more enjoyable when she laid into him.  He could wrap his hands around her waist and lift her into his arms in an instant.

Which didn’t sound like an entirely bad idea.

“More like you are always ribbing me.  Which you seem to thoroughly enjoy.”

“Well I can’t argue with you there.”

She tilted her head, looking at him quizzically.  Those soft pink lips of hers parted, but he returned his gaze to her hazel eyes.  “Look, I’d love to stand around and argue,” she said, “but I’m meeting Morgan for drinks.  Care to come with?  We could always argue more there.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Not a date; I just told you I’m meeting her for drinks.  Although Morgan may be with one of the guys from last night.”

“So it’s a double date.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, and Ryan pressed his lips together in amusement.

“I’m driving though.”

“No way will I fit in that little clown car of yours.  If I’m taking you out for drinks, I’m driving.”  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out with a frown, glancing down at the text message.

SITREP came in—no major updates. Briefing at 0800 tomorrow.

SITREPs, or situation reports, were updates on unfolding situations around the globe.  No news was good news, in some ways.  The kidnapped American woman was likely still alive.  The boots on the ground and U.S. allies needed to hone in on her location stat so his team could deploy for an extraction.  He could have his men on a C-17 military cargo plane on a nonstop flight to Afghanistan within hours.

And hours may be all the time they had if the situation became dire.

Those uncomfortable cargo seats with headsets on to drown out the roar of the airplane were one thing he sure as hell didn’t miss.  But fighting with his men?  It was different commanding a team from stateside.  To not be part of the action.

Didn’t make his job any less critical though.

“Just work,” he said without elaborating. No need in letting her know the shitstorm going on as they searched for the missing American.  The political pressure from Washington.  The preparations being made for an impending op.  That was his and his men’s burden to bear alone.  Didn’t make it any fucking easier though.

“Suit yourself,” she said with a shrug.  “I can get Morgan to drive me back to get my car later.”

“I’ll escort you back,” he said, voice low.

“Well aren’t you a boy scout.”

“No, ma’am,” he said, unable to resist placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her back to his SUV. “Navy SEAL.”

“Touché.”

***

Ryan grumbled under his breath at Sarah’s directions to the restaurant on the VA Beach strand.  Bumper-to-bumper traffic lined Atlantic Avenue, which was unsurprising on a beautiful Saturday night.  And then if they ever found the restaurant Sarah was meeting her friend at, they’d still have to deal with securing a parking spot.  Not that he was opposed to going for a walk with a beautiful woman, but shit.  Watching that dress swish back and forth around her shapely legs all night just might send him to an early grave.

He'd rolled down the windows of his SUV because Sarah insisted they needed the ocean breeze blowing through.  He couldn’t argue with that, but with each waft of ocean air, her summery scent drifted his way as well.  It wasn’t strong enough to be perfume—maybe just some girly shampoo or something.  Lotion.  Who knew?  But hell.  He had half a mind to pull onto an empty side street and haul her into his lap.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his groin tightened.

“When you get to the hotel with the cute cabana area, take a left,” Sarah said, looking around.

“Every hotel has an outdoor area.  That’s the point of oceanfront property.”

“No, the one with the cute tiki bar.  The restaurant I’m meeting Morgan at is around the corner from that.”

“What’s the name of it?” Ryan asked, coming to a stop at a red light.

“Oh.  Seafare 50 or something?”

Ryan clenched his jaw.  “Searfare 77?  That’s twenty blocks back the way we just came.”

“That’s it!” Sarah said with a wide smile.  “Seafare 77.  How’d you know where it is?”

“It’s the 77th block on Atlantic Avenue,” he said.  “That’s the meaning behind its name.  And we passed it ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, right.  Well, I’ll text Morgan and let her know we’re on our way.”

“Didn’t you think to look up directions?”

Sarah shrugged, glancing over at him.  “I figured it’d be easy enough to find.  Who doesn’t love driving around with the ocean air blowing through the windows?  It’s a beautiful night.  And seriously—don’t even start complaining.  I was more than happy to drive, but you, with your outdated chivalrous ways and belief my vehicle was inferior, insisted on doing the honor.”

His fists clenched the steering wheel.  Not that he minded driving around with Sarah in his SUV, but holy hell.  The woman probably couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag.  Looking for the souvenir shop and hotel with a cute tiki bar as landmarks were as helpful as saying it was overlooking the ocean.  Yeah, it and a couple hundred other bars and restaurants.

Ryan neatly maneuvered his SUV into a u-turn, nodding at the VA Beach police officer patrolling the area.  His SEAL team had worked with the boys in blue on several occasions in the past, most recently when Lexi had been kidnapped.

Hell.  It seemed like half the woman his men had ended up with couldn’t stay out of trouble—and the women were the ones stateside.  Not that Rebecca’s stalker or Lexi’s kidnapper had been their fault—but Jesus.  If those two ended up in situations like that, it was amazing Sarah made it through her own life unscathed.  She was knowledgeable, yes, but also totally unconcerned with things like directions, addresses, sticking to a schedule—basically everything his years in the military had dictated.

“Amazing, there’s a spot on the street,” he said a few minutes later, pulling alongside a car to back in to a parallel parking space.

Sarah looked at him doubtfully. “Are you sure this thing will fit?  That’s why I have a small, compact vehicle.”

“It’ll fit,” Ryan said clenching his jaw as he rested one arm on the back of Sarah’s seat to turn around and back into the space.

Jesus Christ.  Coming so close to touching her was dangerous.  Why the hell had he agreed to go grab a drink anyway?

“Right, I forgot—you’re an expert on fitting large packages into tight spaces,” she quipped.

Ryan guffawed.  “Woman, you’re going to kill me.”

“Oh, give me a break,” she said with an infectious laugh.  “You command a freaking team of Navy SEALs but you can’t handle a few minutes in the car with me?”

“You don’t know the half if it,” he muttered under his breath.  He expertly parked his SUV and grumbled to himself as Sarah immediately climbed out by herself.  “I would’ve helped you out,” he said, his voice low as he rounded the front of the vehicle.

“No need,” she said with a smile.  “I get out of my own car by myself all the time.”

“Don’t you ever let anyone do anything for you?”

“I let you drive me here,” she said, crossing her arms and looking at him skeptically.  Her pink lips had the smallest hint of a pout, and he bet she’d probably kill him if he said just how goddamn cute it looked.  “I still think you in my mini cruiser would’ve been pretty hilarious though.  Probably not too comfortable.”

He shook his head and gestured for her to go ahead.

“We left Patrick’s place nearly an hour ago,” he said.  “Are you sure your friend is still here?”

“She should be.  Come on,” she insisted, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him along.  He tried not to express his shock at her small hand in his. Her soft, feminine hand in his muscular, calloused one was arousing as hell. Something just felt fucking right about it.  And he didn’t walk around holding hands with women.  He’d escort them to dinner, certainly, and be more than happy to take them back to his place for the night.  But a simple stroll outside?  Not a chance.

“Oh, there they are,” she said, releasing his hand just as quickly.  He watched in disbelief as she squealed in delight and embraced her friend Morgan in a hug.

“You brought Commander Hottie?” Morgan asked.

Ryan raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, don’t mind her,” Sarah said.  “Let’s get some drinks.”

Ryan ducked lower, his lips near her ear as they waited at the bar.  “Commander Hottie?” he asked in amusement.

“Don’t get your head in the clouds,” Sarah said.  “Morgan doesn’t get out much.”

“Right,” he said with a smirk.

Ryan ordered two beers, laying down money on the bar to pay for both.  Sarah finally relented, grabbing the bottle he slid her way and pushing a lime down into her Corona.  She took a long pull, and he averted his gaze.  Holy hell.  Her lips around that longneck?  He’d be imagining dirty scenarios all night with that image emblazoned in his brain.

“How come you never went to Anchors with the rest of the guys?” Sarah asked.

“I’m their CO.”

“No kidding.  I just figured that as a red-blooded, American male, you’d be as into picking up women as the rest of them.”

“Who said I never picked up women?”

Sarah laughed.  Why did she look like she didn’t believe him?

“Want to dance?” she asked, beginning to move in place as the live band began a new set.

“I don’t dance,” he said, gazing down at her.

“What?  How can anyone not dance?”

He leveled her with a gaze.

“Suit yourself,” she said, grabbing her friend Morgan instead.  The two women headed toward the makeshift dancefloor, Sarah throwing her head back in laughter as she shimmied her way there.  A few men glanced her way, and Ryan felt his chest tighten.  He wasn’t planning to dance with her, but hell.  If another man stepped in, he might just have to change his mind about dancing.

Sarah threw her arms up in the air, swirling her hips around as she moved.  Watching her was a big fucking mistake, because she was completely uninhibited.  Her breasts bounced as she danced, and her dress rose higher toward mid-thigh, revealing more of her creamy flesh.  He took a long pull of his beer as he watched her.  Hell, he could watch all damn night if she danced like that.

As the song ended and another came one, she bounced over to him, huge smile on her face.

“You’re missing out, Captain.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “I had a good show.”

Sarah smirked, and the guy Morgan was with reappeared from wherever he’d gone, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Sarah introduced the two of them, and Ryan’s gaze swept over the guy’s sunburned skin.  He wondered what happened to the other two clowns this guy had been with last night and why the hell Sarah’s friend wanted to spend any time with him.

“I’ve got a hotel room down the street—I’d love some company later on,” he said, loud enough for all of them to hear.

Morgan smiled but shook her head.  “Sorry, I’m not going back to your hotel with you.”

He looked toward Ryan and shrugged.  “A man’s gotta try, right?”

Ryan cleared his throat.

“No pressure.  But if you change your mind later, the offer still stands.”

Morgan and Sarah exchanged a glance.  “Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” Morgan said.  “You guys want to come too, right?”

“Yes,” Sarah agreed. “I have to drive back to Norfolk tomorrow—I need as much beach time as I can get.”

“Why don’t you just move here?” Ryan asked as they headed back toward the door.  Hell.  What was he saying?  He needed to see less of her, not more.

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Morgan said.  “You’ve got to, Sarah.  Think of how much fun we’d have.”

“I can only imagine,” Ryan said.  Those two together every weekend would spell trouble for every man in town.  He ground his jaw at the thought.  What was he worried about?  She’d go back to Norfolk tomorrow; he’d see her whenever he saw her next.

Same as always.

Why did that thought sound so damn depressing?