Sarah took one last swig of her beer and set the empty bottle down on the bar.  Tomorrow she’d drink lots of lemon water and herbal tea to flush all the toxins from her system and rehydrate.  Between the sugar from the ice cream earlier and the two beers she’d had tonight, she’d strayed quite a bit from her strictly organic diet.

And that tofu burger Patrick had grilled? Yuck.  It was so overcooked she probably had carcinogenic toxins from the charcoal in her system as well.

“Would you like another drink?” Ryan asked, his gray eyes assessing her.

“No thanks.  Let’s hit the beach.”

“Right there with you, sister,” Morgan said, pulling Mike along with her out the front door.

Ryan was watching her as they left the bar, an unreadable expression on his face.  Sarah gazed back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking as Morgan and her date Mike walked off ahead of them. “What?” she finally asked.

“Nothing,” he said, clenching his jaw

Yep.  The man was unreadable as always.  She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed she’d dragged him along on her evening out or having the time of his life.

“You’re too damn serious all the time.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s Saturday night! We’re at the beach, it’s gorgeous out, and you look like you just lost your best friend.”

“I don’t look like that,” Ryan grumbled.

“Come on,” Sarah said, grabbing Ryan’s forearm in both her hands and tugging him toward the sand.  He looked startled at her touch, and she quickly let go as he began to walk with her.  Holy hell he was muscular—his forearms were nothing but corded muscle beneath that warm flesh.  And that huge body walking at her side was all kinds of enticing—as if in an instant, he could sweep her up into his arms.

Not that the man apparently ever did a thing like that—no dancing, no dating.  He barely cracked smile.

The beach was nearly deserted now, most people strolling along the boardwalk dotted by lampposts or enjoying the restaurants and bars along the strand.  The sounds of everyone else disappeared as they walked closer to the water, and then it was nothing but surf crashing on sand.

Morgan shrieked as Mike scooped her into his arms, jogging down toward the ocean as he carried her.  “Wait, I’m going to get wet!” Morgan squealed, playfully kicking her legs but laughing and loving every second of it.

“That’s the point!” Mike shouted.  “Whoo-hoo!”

The two of them screamed as he charged right into the surf, getting his pants wet and no doubt splashing Morgan with the salt-water spray.

“Mike, put me down!” she shrieked.

He pretended to throw her into the ocean as she clung to him, squealing in delight.

“Let’s go skinny-dipping!” Sarah called out to them.

Ryan looked over at her in surprise, but Sarah bent and quickly untied her sandals.  The man was impossible.  He didn’t react to anything.

Kicking her sandals aside, she pulled her sundress up and over her head.  The cotton bikini and bra she had on were cute but not any more revealing than the drawer full of bikinis she had at home.  If anything, they were more modest then some string bikinis.  Still, when she glanced at Ryan, his eyes quickly swept back to her face.

 “Sarah,” he said, his voice deep.

“Come on,” she said.  “Race you to the water!”

She didn’t wait for an answer and ran down to the ocean.  She shrieked as the waves lapped over her feet, the sand and warm water seeping between her toes, and then splashed through the water, running away as Mike began to chase both her and Morgan.  The two women ran around in circles like school girls as Mike chased after them, at some point having tossed his soggy shoes onshore.  Morgan’s wet dress clung to her like a second skin, and Mike was eyeing her with more than a little appreciative look in his eye.

Ryan stood on the beach, clutching Sarah’s dress in his grip as if he was afraid it would blow away or something.  Briefly, she wondered what he’d do if it did—probably strip off his own shirt so she’d be covered.

Seriously.  The man didn’t know how to have any fun.

“Come on!” she shouted to him, gesturing for him to come in the water.  I mean really—who ever heard of a Navy SEAL who didn’t like the ocean?  That man was too straight and narrow for his own good.

A wave crashed against her, leaving her soaked from her shoulders down.  The wet cotton of her bra clung to her breasts, her nipples pebbling in the cool night air.  She had half a mind to strip down completely, but Ryan would probably completely lose his shit at that.

She smirked, wondering if she should just go for it.

Mike pulled Morgan into his arms, kissing her as they stood in the shallows.  Sarah was beginning to feel like the odd man out, and when she glanced back at Ryan, he was thumbing a text into his phone, frowning.

“Sarah, we need to go!” he called out, his deep voice resounding over the crashing waves.

Sarah gestured to Morgan that she was heading in, shivering as she left the warm water and the night air cooled her skin.  She padded over the hard sand down near the water, heading toward where she’d left Ryan.

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan muttered as she walked closer.

“Now what?” she asked sourly.

“You look—you’re just—”

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Here, you look cold,” he said, handing over her dress.  She swiped it from him, rubbing the drops of water off her shoulders and arms before pulling it down over her head.  She tugged her wet bra off from beneath her dress, a feat most men would likely appreciate, squeezing the excess water out.

“Don’t even think about stripping off your panties,” Ryan growled.

“Not a chance, Captain.”

“Sarah,” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s your problem anyway?  I was just having a little fun.  We’re at the beach on a Saturday night! No one’s around to see.  It’s not like I stripped down to my underwear and danced on top of the bar or something.”

“Have you done that before?”

“Of course not!  Give me a break.”

“Have you danced on a bar fully clothed?”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug.  She ducked down and snatched her sandals from the sand, walking back toward the boardwalk.  Leave it to Ryan to kill her buzz.  Hell.  Patrick’s entire SEAL team was full of rowdy men who loved women. Who used to literally chase after them at Anchors and bring a new woman home every weekend. Ryan was acting affronted that he’d seen her wearing her bra and panties on the beach—never mind that he, like everyone else, had probably seen a zillion bikini-clad women before.

“I have to go into base,” Ryan said, easily catching up to her.

“Right now?”

“Yes.  Something’s come up that’s urgent.”

“All right, well, why didn’t you say so?  I’ll get a ride back with Morgan.  She can drop me at Patrick’s to pick up my car.”

“I’ll drive you back.”

“Save yourself the trouble,” she said, turning to glare at him.  “You’ve been in a bad mood ever since we got here—no, scratch that.  I’m pretty sure you were in a shit mood while we were driving here.  You didn’t have to come with me if you were going to be such a buzzkill.”

“I’ve got work commitments,” he said, his voice harsh.  “And I’m a Naval Officer.  I can’t just run around swimming in my underwear so that anyone walking by could see me.”

“Uh-huh.  I’m pretty sure the Navy has seen far bigger scandals than whether you wear boxers or briefs.  No one cares except for you.”

“I care that you were running around the beach in your bra and panties.”

“That’s hardly scandalous either.”

“I could see your nipples through your bra,” he growled.  “Do you think I want other men to see you like that?”

Sarah quieted, taken aback.

“You’re making it damn hard for me to do the right thing here.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?  You argue with me every time I see you.  If I say ‘right,’ you say ‘left.’  If I want a tofu burger, you tell me that you love a good steak.  I can see how you’ve made it up the chain of command in the military—simply by bossing people around and being a major control freak.”

“If I don’t have control, people die,” he said, his voice steel.

“This isn’t some highly classified military operation,” Sarah said in exasperation.  “It’s a night at the beach—drinks at a bar.”

“And I have to go to work.”

“I understand.  Go.  I’ll catch a ride with Morgan.”

“I’m driving you back.”

Ignoring him, she turned and walked back toward the water, leaving Ryan looking dumbstruck behind her.

***

Sarah groaned as she woke up the next morning, curled up in a ball on Morgan’s sofa.  Sunlight beamed in through the open curtains, and she squinted her eyes.  Why the hell did she have a best friend that was such an early bird?

The universe was cruel, sometimes.

“Rise and shine!” Morgan said, walking over with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Well aren’t you a happy camper,” Sarah said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.  “What time is it?”

“Seven a.m.!”

She pulled the blanket tighter around her camisole and boy shorts.  “And what time did we get in last night?”

“One a.m. as I recall.”

“Exactly.  And six hours is not nearly enough sleep.”

“Drink,” Morgan said, thrusting the mug under her nose.

“You know I’m a tea drinker.”

“Not here you’re not.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and took a sip from the mug, bristling at the combination of dark roast beans and accompanying jolt of caffeine.  Just the aroma alone was enough to make her more alert.  Never mind that she usually preferred her jasmine green tea.  Morgan made killer French Press coffee that was so strong it just might actually kill someone.

She tucked her legs under her on the sofa, taking a second careful sip of her coffee.  “Making a pitcher of margaritas after a night out is starting to seem like it was bad idea.”

“Yep.  You said we needed to celebrate your last night at the beach though.”

“Next time do me a favor and don’t listen.”

“Ha ha.  Not a chance.  I think you left quite an impression with Commander Hottie though.”

Sarah smirked, recalling their walk on the beach after grabbing drinks.  And her little dip in the ocean.  ‘Left an impression’ was one way to describe it.

“Thanks for giving me a ride back to my car.  I think your date Mike was pissed though—it seemed like he was still hoping to have you to himself for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, forget about him.  He’s probably on a plane back to New York as we speak.  And no problem about the ride.”

“I wonder what Patrick would have thought if I’d called him for a lift.  Ha.  I don’t think Ryan leaving me on the beach would have gone over so well.”

“He texted me you know.”

“Patrick?  How’d he even know your number?”

“Ryan. Ryan texted me.  And who knows?  Don’t Navy SEALs know everything?  My cell number isn’t even listed anywhere.”

“Ryan texted you?  What did he want?  He looked pissed as hell when I came out of the water.  And even angrier that I wouldn’t let him drive me back.”

“He just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Such a gentleman,” Sarah said sarcastically.  “He insisted on driving and then left me there.”

“Well he did offer you a ride,” Morgan said.  “What was he supposed to do?  Sling you over his shoulder caveman style?”

Sarah smirked.  “I would’ve freaking killed him.”

“I think he knew that.  Besides, it gave me a good opportunity to ditch Mike.”

“So what’d you tell him?”

“Who—Mike?”

“No,” Sarah said, sitting up so her legs fell to the ground.  “Commander Hot—I mean Ryan.”

Morgan smirked.  “What was he doing with you anyway?  Not that I care that you brought him along.  But Friday night you were going on and on about how insufferable he is.”

“Long story.  One not worth recounting.”

“Uh-huh.  So what time do you have to head out?  Are you staying for the day?”

“Yep.  We can hit the beach, maybe grab dinner later, and I’ll drive back to Norfolk after the traffic dies down.”

“Sounds like a plan.  So are you up for doing brunch?  Or should we eat here?”

“It’s seven-freaking-a.m.  I’m not leaving your house for several more hours at the earliest.”

Morgan laughed and turned to walk to the kitchen.  “Pancakes okay?” she asked.

“Only if they’re gluten—”

“—free.  Got it.  I’ll make some vegan organic banana pancakes for you.  The good stuff I’ll save for myself.”

“Smart ass,” Sarah said, getting up and following her friend into the kitchen.