Page 3 of Loved by a SEAL

A waiter carrying a tray brought their food over as she watched, and Sarah smirked as she saw the steak set down before him.

Steak.

While they sat mere feet away from the ocean.

Even if she hadn’t been a vegetarian, she’d never order steak at a restaurant known for its fresh seafood in a million years.

Almost as if he knew she was watching him, Ryan’s gaze swept her way. Piercing gray eyes penetrated hers, but his face remained unreadable. Her heart did an unexpected little skitter, and he nodded in her direction, calm, cool, and collected as always.

A beat passed as their eyes locked, and then Sarah excused herself from the New York guy, walking over to say hello.

Ryan was on his feet before she even reached the table. The couple he was with looked over to her with interest, but Sarah’s eyes unwittingly drifted back over him. Neatly pressed khakis. Casual shirt. Muscles any woman would drool over. The hard line of his clenched jaw made him seem like he was meeting with top military commanders, though, not saying hello to a friend.

Not that they were friends per se, but she wasn’t exactly about to demand his name, rank, and serial number either.

Ryan towered above her when she reached his table, her head only coming up to his broad shoulders. The scent of his aftershave and soap drifted toward her, and mixed in with the salty air and ocean breeze, was an intoxicating combination. She forced herself to look up, ignoring the heat radiating off his large frame, to meet his unreadable gaze.

Holy hell.

The man was built like a Greek God. Broad chest. Broader shoulders. Rugged good looks that, had he been any other man, would make her want to drag him down to the beach and make out with him until dawn.

Too bad they couldn’t agree on whether the grass was green and sky was blue.

“Sarah,” he said, his voice deep.

“Enjoying the fine seafood, I see.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. He probably didn’t get that a lot, being some high-ranking officer at Little Creek. God knows the guys on the team never joked with him like they did one another. He wasn’t even around most of the time they got together off base—he probably thought it was beneath him to spend any time with them.

The couple he was with laughed at her comment and looked over, eyeing her with interest. “Hi, I’m Sarah. My brother works with Ryan. Or for him. Or something.” She shrugged, glancing back at Ryan, who had somewhat of an amused expression on his face. “Who knows exactly what they do.”

“You don’t know what Navy SEALs do?” he asked dryly.

“The whole chain of command thing.”

The woman at Ryan’s table spoke up. “I just told him earlier that I don’t understand why the rankings change between different branches of the military.”

“Right? No one does,” Sarah agreed.

“I assure you, the Navy understands,” Ryan said.

“I meant no one outside of the military. I can’t even follow what my own brother is saying half of the time—there’s so many acronyms, strange lingo….”

She threw Ryan a questioning glance.

“Military protocol?” he added.

“Exactly. If you’re not in the military, it makes no sense.”

“I didn’t know you were in town,” Ryan said, the deep baritone of his voice doing funny things to her insides. She looked up at him again, trying to ignore his chiseled features and the tiny crinkles around his eyes.

Because the man was impossible.

“I’m catching up with a friend,” she said, glancing back to Morgan and the group of guys at their table. Morgan and the guy Sarah had just danced with waved. “And Patrick and Rebecca invited me to their barbeque tomorrow.”

“Why go to a barbeque if you don’t eat meat?”

“Very funny.”

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