Page 24 of Loved by a SEAL

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.

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