Page 7 of Loved by a SEAL

And just because it was all over CNN didn’t mean the U.S. military knew exactly where she was. Or what they’d do. He was waiting on word from the Pentagon as to if and when his team would be sent in. The SEALs were always on stand-by, ready to be wheels-up in 24 hours. At Uncle Sam’s beck and call 24/7. It was a rough, difficult life. And he was damn proud of his men for going directly into harm’s way, whenever and wherever duty called.

He’d put in his own time on a SEAL team and it was an honor to serve as a CO for the Alpha team now. Didn’t make that shit any easier though—watching from thousands of miles away as his men carried out their mission. He had to trust their judgement, their training, their ability to follow through on his orders.

It was no wonder he’d never had time for a family. Never saw a woman more than a couple of times. He’d get so tied up in work, so focused on the ops they ran, they’d give up on him. Wait around for date two or three and then move on to another man when he never called. When he cancelled plans.

Not that he blamed them.

And life was better that way. Easier. No strings and no complications.

Why worry about a woman when he’d dedicated his life to the Navy? He could score easily enough picking up one of the beach bunnies in town if he wanted. There were always plenty of women lined up who were eager to spend the night with a Navy SEAL. Maybe he couldn’t hold a decent conversation with them, but to slake his need?

Plenty of bikini-clad women to choose from.

“She seemed nice,” his buddy’s wife said, drawing his attention back to the meal. He stabbed at his steak, suddenly not nearly as appetizing as it had appeared earlier.

“She’s a handful. The kind of woman with an opinion about everything.”

“She’d have to be, to keep you in line,” his buddy joked.

Ryan’s gaze unwittingly slid back toward Sarah and the group she was with. They were animatedly talking, pouring more margaritas from the pitcher. Getting plates full of appetizers from their waitress. Sarah threw her head back, laughing, the sunlight catching the highlights in her honey brown hair.

Her happiness was contagious, and her friend bobbed up and down beside her, excitedly telling a story with hand gestures. One of the guys casually draped his arm around Sarah’s shoulder as he leaned back in the chair beside her, and Ryan froze. Swallowed.

She could date whoever she liked. Do whatever she wanted. He had no claim on her. And the fact of the matter was, she’d never be his.

“You should ask her out,” his buddy continued.

“No can do,” Ryan said, returning his attention to the meal. “She’s the sister of one of my men.”

“So what? There’s no law forbidding that.”

“I don’t need that hanging over my shoulder. Besides, I don’t have time for a relationship,” Ryan muttered. He took a swig of his now lukewarm beer, the hoppy brew tasting less than pleasant now that it was warm.

Or maybe the bitter taste in his mouth was because he’d given up on his own happiness long ago. Didn’t make watching it from afar any easier though.

***

Ryan walked down the boardwalk an hour later, trying to dodge all the couples out for an evening walk. Good God. Summer was tourist season around here, so what did he expect? Still, when his buddy from his academy days had called to say he’d be in town, he’d jumped at the chance to catch up.

His gaze drifted out to the crashing waves. The beach was dimly lit from the lights on the boardwalk, and he could see a few people down in the broad expanse of sand. Laughing, splashing in the wake. A couple alone was kissing in the moonlight.

Fucking hell.

Could he even remember the name of the last woman he’d taken out to dinner and then home for a hot and heavy make-out session on her sofa? He hadn’t even been interested in her enough to take her to the bedroom and progress things along.

Sarah.

It was absurd, really, but being around her always made him feel alive. Focused on something other than his career, his men, and the Navy. She seemed set on disagreeing with him any chance she got. Kept him on his toes. It was amusing for her to be always arguing with him when she was such a tiny little thing herself. Jesus. Growing up with Patrick must have given her that edge. She didn’t flinch around Ryan because her own brother was a hardened warrior.

Not that a damn thing would ever fucking happen with her.

He wouldn’t allow it.

But another couple of hours in her company wouldn’t be the end of the world, either. Watching her move, hearing her laugh. And he had the perfect invite already.

He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants, swiped the screen, and texted the leader of his SEAL team Patrick “Ice” Foster.

Is the BBQ still at 1600 tomorrow?

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