Page 26 of Loved by a SEAL

Chapter 7

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.

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