Page 23 of Loved by a SEAL

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.

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