Page 54 of Rescued by a SEAL

Chapter 14

Taylor took a bite of her chicken taco, moaning in appreciation. The fresh salsa, cilantro, and avocado pieces atop the seasoned chicken were pure perfection. She took a swig of her beer and smiled as she caught Mason watching her.

“I thought you said you were a wine drinker.”

“I am. Usually. I happen to love a beer with spicy Mexican though.”

“Hoorah,” Mason said, holding up his longneck before taking a swig. “I’ll have to remember that.”

She laughed, watching him inhale the rest of his food. She’d ordered two tacos plus homemade chips and guacamole for her dinner, but Mason had gone with a huge assortment of food. He took the last bite of his steak burrito and then grabbed one of the beef tacos he’d ordered. He still had an enchilada and his own order of chips and salsa.

“This food is fantastic. I can’t believe I’ve been stationed at Little Creek for years and never eaten there. How’d you find it?”

“It’s kind of hole in the wall,” Taylor admitted. “A tiny little place, but the food is amazing. We used to come here when I was a kid.”

“I didn’t know you were from here,” Mason said, popping the cap off of his second beer. “Do you have family here?”

“No, my parents moved down to Florida—from one beach to another,” she said with a wry smile. “They’re happy down there with the other retired folks though.”

“Any siblings?”

Her smile faltered. “I had a sister. Have a sister. She was killed in a car accident ten years ago. We were just teenagers then.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Mason said, reaching over and taking her hand. “Were you close?”

She looked down at his hand holding hers, his thumb absently tracing small circles over her skin. Looking back up, his blue eyes were focused on her. Patiently waiting for her to collect her thoughts. “Yeah, we were close. Best friends. She was only a year older than me, so we did everything together. I know some siblings close in age don’t get along, but for whatever reason, we always did. It feels like a million years ago now though. We were practically kids.”

“What happened?” Mason asked quietly.

“A drunk driver hit her. She stayed out past curfew, and my parents were furious. I guess she figured she’d live dangerously for once. She was usually a rule-follower just like me. Didn’t drink, didn’t do drugs—none of that stuff. She was at a friend’s house watching movies, and I was home sick. Maybe if I’d been with her, she would’ve come home on time. She left around midnight to sneak back in, and someone T-boned her in the intersection. A drunk driver with an alcohol level way over the legal limit. I saw photographs of the scene afterwards, and both cars were totaled. He didn’t survive either, but my sister was innocent.”

She sniffed, swiping away the tears that had begun to fall.

She hadn’t told anyone that story in years. Bailey knew about her sister of course, and Eric had as well.

Ironic, to realize now how concerned Mason was that she was upset. Eric had nonchalantly commented that he was sorry but had been more concerned that she wanted a tattoo with Tessa’s initials. Mason rose from his seat, taking the beer bottle she didn’t even realize she had in a death grip. He set it aside as he knelt down in front of her, and then he was pulling her into his arms.

Holding her as she quietly cried.

“Shhh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” her murmured, running one large hand down over her hair.

She sniffled again, relaxing into his warmth. This was the second time tonight she’d fallen apart in his arms, she realized. What must he think of her? Her whole life felt like it was in shambles at the moment.

Pulling back slightly, she looked right at Mason. He thumbed away a stray tear rolling down her cheek but stayed knelt beside her.

“I’m thinking of getting a tattoo of Tessa’s initials,” she confided. “Maybe just a small heart with ‘TR’ in the middle and the day that she died.”

“You should do it,” Mason said, his voice thick with emotion. “She was your sister and best friend. What a beautiful way to memorialize her.”

“You really think I should? I don’t have any tattoos.”

“Absolutely. I love the idea.”

Taylor huffed out a breath. “Yeah, me too. Eric was always against it. He said he didn’t like tattoos on women.”

“Eric was an asshole,” Mason said immediately. “A controlling jerk. Maybe he wasn’t physically abusive toward you, but trying to control your life was a different type of abusive.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. And I’m really starting to wonder if he messed with my car, too. He was controlling in ways I didn’t quite realize, and after we broke up, it’s like the worst side of him finally came out.”

---