Page 11 of ELITE Justice
Since Jonathan O’Neil rumbled deep in his chest.
Well, damn it.
“Guess I’m becoming a regular.” True. The man had shown up at least every other evening. She’d hidden in her office, out of sight, each time. Acting like a silly teenager. She was no better than the girls from the Catholic school who sat at the big round table in the corner and stole glances at the boys a few tables away.
Enough.
She was an adult and he was just a man. One who made her insides quiver and her brain wonder what that impressively muscled body would look like hovering over hers seconds before he pushed into her slick heat. More than once she’d questioned what kind of lover he’d be. Would he be a quick bang and go? Or take it slow and gentle? It didn’t really matter. It had been so long since she’d shared her body with a man, she’d probably explode the minute his fingertips found her clit.
With the thought of an orgasm screaming through her brain, Gwen stood up straight, pulled her shoulders back, and headed out to face Jonathan.
Oh, shit.
She did an about-face and scanned the shelves once more for the sugar. It’d been right there in front of her the whole time. She grabbed the heavy plastic jug and determinedly walked to the seat at the counter where she’d been refilling condiments.
Damn, he looked good. She hadn’t been raised in Texas, but cowboys had been a fantasy of hers since puberty. His black Stetson with the gray band sat on the counter at his elbow as he sipped coffee. She loved the way the gray Guardian polo shirt hugged his biceps and stretched over large pecs. Gwen knew there would be at least six, well-defined ab muscles under the shirt tucked into black cargo pants at his small waist. He wore his gun comfortably on the right side, secured in a hard plastic holster.
For a fleeting moment, she missed carrying her weapon. Overseas, she wouldn’t leave her tent without it secured to her duty belt. Once home, it had taken months for her to feel safe without her .45 at her side. That might be why she liked Texas so much. Many who ate at her restaurant were armed, not just because her diner was a favorite of first responders, but so many people openly carried. Guns were sexy.
Lately, her brain had been focused on sex, so she found everything sexy. Especially the man in the third seat from the end at the counter.
Gwen dialed back her excited smile and managed to say, “Jonathan, nice to see you again.” She sat down and resumed her duties, mindlessly unscrewing the sugar jars and topping them off before replacing the lids.
“You’re not going to run and hide from me, again, are you?” His intense gaze bore through her defenses.
She turned her head to look at him. “No.” She fought a smile. “Running away is the last thing I want to do.” She wanted to jump out of her seat and dive into his arms, kiss him until she forgot where she was. Then, she’d drag that perfect tight ass of his up to her third-floor apartment and strip off his shirt so she could count those ab muscles.
“Good.” He nodded. From the look in his eyes, sex wasn’t his priority at the moment. Damn it. He obviously wasn’t having the same fantasy.
“Look, Gwen, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions with that Kane guy the other night.” He ran his hand over his face. “From my perspective, it looked like a drug deal going down. But he recovered way too fast for that and didn’t act high afterward. What’s his deal?”
Gwen concentrated on opening the sugar jars as she debated telling Jonathan about Kane. But maybe he could help convince her friend to take advantage of some of the VA programs available to get Kane back on his feet. She finally explained, “He’s a type-one diabetic and needs insulin at least five times a day. Kane can’t risk carrying needles on the street. Besides, the insulin needs to be refrigerated. He usually wears a pump, but some punk kid stole his.”
At Jonathan’s raised eyebrows, she added, “It’s about the size of a pager.”
Realization dawned. “Can he get another one? Will he be okay until then?”
Wow. His genuine concern for Kane flabbergasted Gwen…and made her like Jonathan even more. He was not only sexy as hell, but he was also nice. “It’ll take the VA a couple of weeks to get him another pump. In the meantime, he’ll live close to here and I’ll give him his shots or Kane will stay near the VA hospital.”
“How did you meet him?” Jonathan sipped and set the mug down, focusing all his attention on her.
Meticulously, Gwen picked up the next container and began to fill it. She had nothing to hide from this man, except the name of the covert special operations base where she’d met Kane. “I was an Army nurse, three tours in theater. His team was really sick when they were brought in. All of them had high fevers, dehydration, delirium, vom—” She glanced at the plate Jacki had just set in front of him and corrected her word choice. “Sick to their stomachs. The doctors determined that they had contracted a virus while in the northern regions.”
She dropped her hands to the countertop. “There are diseases out there that we have no idea how to treat, say nothing about curing.”
Jonathan nodded in agreement, too much a gentleman to speak with his mouth full.
“So,” she continued. “When we’d prepared them to be shipped to Germany, per protocol, the World Health Organization stepped in and advised they be treated in-country fearing it might spread into an epidemic.”
“None of the hospitals I saw over there were prepared to handle anything like quarantine,” Jonathan said, and bit into toast slathered with their homemade jam.
“We weren’t either. But we did it.” Gwen tightened the lid and moved on to the next sugar jar. She sighed. The next part was sad, especially for Kane. “The virus hit them all hard, but it attacked Kane’s pancreas. We eventually shipped him to Germany, but he ended up at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center for over a month while they figured out the problem. He had developed type 1 diabetes. They medically discharged him from the Navy. He certainly couldn’t be a SEAL any longer and his skills couldn’t easily transfer into the regular Navy.” Gwen didn’t bother mentioning that Kane came home to Dallas where his life went further down the drain. That wasn’t her story to tell.
“That sucks.” Jonathan shook his head and slid his empty plate away. He spun on the stool to face her. “Look, I owe you an apology.” He took the large sugar container out of her hand and set it down before taking both her hands in his and turning her to face him. Their knees bumped before he spread his apart, capturing hers in between. The position was so intimate, heat raised from her chest up her neck. “Let me take you out to supper. I’m sure you’d like to try some other restaurants.”
“I…I…” She couldn’t put together the sentence she wanted to say. This was exactly what she wanted, but when he gently squeezed her hands, she lost all conscious thought.
“I’m new here,” he started to explain, “and you’re the first woman with a brain I’ve met other than clients, and Guardian has a policy against dating them.”
