Page 8 of The Destined SEAL
I bury my face in his chest and breathe in the scent of Eight & Bob. He’s worn the same fragrance since the day he discovered it was JFK’s signature aftershave, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the most comforting smell I’ve ever encountered. Ben pulls me to the side to let people pass, but I still cling to him.
“Let me get a look at ya,” Ben says, leaning away, handing me the balloon.
I press my lips together in a firm grin as I take the stupid balloon from his hands. “Ben,” I say, swallowing over three hundred sixty-five days down and letting right now soak into awareness. “Pink is my favorite color,” I drawl, yanking on the ribbon.
Ben shakes his head. “I hate to admit this, but Boston agrees with you.” His eyes flick to every part of my body but hold on my face. “You look beautiful, Harpee. I like your style, too.” This isn’t Ben flirting, like it would seem to a stranger. This is Ben, the kind man who understands how to treat a woman. Even a woman best friend. He always has a compliment for me.
“You don’t look so shabby yourself. Switch up your steroids? Your arms look big,” I quip, grabbing his biceps with my hands. “My fingers can’t even touch anymore!” I exclaim with mock outrage.
He rolls his eyes. “Your fingers could never touch.” Leaning in closer, he whispers, “If you think my biceps are thick, you should see my?—”
I clamp my hand over his mouth before he can finish.
Shaking my head, I ignore his joke. “My fingers could touch. Don’t lie. You’re not some high and mighty hero in my eyes. I know the person suffocating in all of that muscle tissue.” I let go of his arms and take a step away from him, suddenly worried what people might think.
He laughs, tilting his head back and flashing his bright, white smile. His jaw is perfectly square, and he has dimples by his eyes when he smiles wide. I learned early on he hates those little dents, but seeing them now, on the person he’s become, makes me realize those smile marks might be the only cute thing left about him. He’s handsome. Ben is tan and tall, and every woman who passes looks at him more than once.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ben says when I stay silent. “I’m illegally parked.”
“You did not!” I chirp as we start walking. I’m the one who lives and dies by the rules, and he’s the one who makes his own. Question everything, Ben once told me.Don’t take everything at face value. Just because someone says something doesn’t mean there aren’t other ways to do it better.
Sure enough, a cop is circling his pickup truck when we step through the automatic doors.
“It’s my girl’s birthday, and she’s been flying all day,” Ben says, jogging up to the officer and motioning to my balloon. I manage a weak smile but feel like I might combust from anger. This is a typical Ben move. “Please don’t give us a ticket on her twenty-first birthday, sir.”
The cop looks at me over the bed of the truck. I flash a weak smile. I know exactly how to get my barb in during this situation.
“He’s a Navy SEAL, sir. He’s used to doing things a little differently than the rest of us. He would have never parked here if he didn’t think he’d be late for me. His muscles might have gotten in the way of theNo Parkingsign, you know?” I let my smile filter wider. The cop grins at me. “Please. It truly is my birthday, and I assure you he won’t ever double-park again.” Not in this spot, at least.
Ben’s face is red and his lips are pursed, his gaze lighting me on fire. I dropped the SEAL word in conversation with a stranger. I lick my finger and hold it next to my head while the officer turns to head to his cruiser parked behind Ben’s large, black truck. He snarls at me but can’t hide his smile. Ben drags his thumb across the front of his neck and points at me with his forefinger at the same time.
The officer returns with a warning, wishes me a happy birthday, and leaves to attack another car double-parked several feet up.
“You’re welcome,” I say when we’re situated in the cab, my balloon bouncing off the ceiling behind our heads. “I should have let you flail, Ben. You know how I am about the law.”
“You don’t have to always be so perfect, you know? It wouldn’t kill you to let loose every once in a while.” It’s easy for him to say now that he’s this beautiful, glorified man.
“I’m still the geeky girl I’ve always been. It’s not so easy for people like me to let loose.”
Ben pulls into traffic and looks at ease behind the wheel of the big vehicle, one bulky arm propped on the top of the steering wheel. It smells like him in here, and I take in a deep breath and relax a touch. “But I’m only here for a weekend, so hopefully we can let loose as long as it doesn’t involve anything illegal.”
He chuckles. “I’m employed by the government, Harper. I don’t break any serious laws. I double-parked because I wanted to see you sooner. I’d also like to point out that you don’t look like a geek anymore, so you should probably stop referring to yourself in that way. It looks desperate.”
He glances over, a grin in place. His brown eyes flutter a couple times before he turns his attention back to the road, waiting for my retort. “It doesn’t matter what you look like, Ben. It’s what’s inside.”
“I beg to differ. I’m a prime example,” he replies, palming his wide chest with a free hand. “You know I’m the same person even if I don’t look anything like what I used to. People treat me one way because they don’t know who I really am. You’ve never known how beautiful you are. It’s so bad that people probably think the low self-esteem thing is for attention.”
I scoff. “That’s not even close to the truth. I’m confident.”
He nods. “I know that, but do others?” I fold my arms across my chest, and he continues on. “I got us concert tickets for tonight. We’ll go see our parents now to get that out of the way.”
I laugh. “I do actually miss my parents,” I say. “What concert?” I ask, my voice a little too loud.
Ben laughs. “A wee bit excited, huh? Just your favorite indie rock band of all time,” he says, sighing in a big, exaggerated way.
“No way,” I say. “Cold War Kids?”
“Yes way. We need to be pre-gaming by five, so I hope you don’t want to spend too much time hanging out with the parental units.”
