Page 17 of Fake Dating the SEAL
“Not independently wealthy. We don’t make that much money, though we made a nice living. We did get paid some nice bonuses though, lots of overseas assignments come with hazard pay.”
“Like engineers in the Middle East.”
He nodded. “The military paid a lot of money to train us, and like fighter pilots, they don’t want to lose us. What helped is that my expenses when deployed for months on end were minimal so my savings grew exponentially.” He shrugged. “With a little investment help.”
Again, she looked around shaking her head. “You’re going to have to show me about that investment part.”
“Not being risk averse helps. Took a few chances that tanked, took a few others that soared. It also didn’t hurt that the owner liked me, had no other offers, wanted to leave the island and move stateside with some old Navy buddies. Some place in Central Florida. Lots of houses, planned activities and once upon a time, an STD ratio that made you think twice about what it meant to grow old gracefully.”
“You’re kidding?” The wide eyes were gone and now sparkling with humor.
“Nope. Dead serious.”
She reached for a piece of chicken. “You said you didn’t know what you were going to do next. If you were going to stay or move on.”
“That’s right.” He scooped some potato salad on his plate and offered her some.
“Just a little.” She handed him a napkin and plastic silverware. “If you leave, what will you do with all this land?”
And that had been just one of the many questions he’d been asking himself since the day he put in his papers. “What would you do with it? If it were yours?”
Her gaze drifted to the distant ocean views. “Hmm, that’s tough. It’s so open here. I suppose I’d plant a nice big tree in the front yard and another in the back, just to make things seem homey, and shady.”
Intrigued by her perspective, he nodded.
“You’d want all the main rooms to have a view the ocean, so things that don’t matter like garages, laundry rooms, bathrooms and pantries would face the front of the home, and anyplace you’d hang out you would be able to enjoy the views.”
Interesting that she’d called it a home, not a house. Turning to look at the view she was staring at as if she could see the house coming together in front of her, he had to admit she had a good point about focusing on the views.
“I’d keep the interior spacious, not clutter it with too much but still have soft fabrics and colors to bring in the warmth and make it feel like a home not a magazine shoot.”
As she continued to run through her vision for the house, he could almost see it coming together. Too bad, even with a home design in mind, he had no idea what to do with the rest of his life.
Chapter Eight
“The question now, is do we do something else? Or do I take you home and hope that a picnic lunch is enough to satiate your mother’s matchmaking urges?” Kenny had planned for something else this afternoon, but didn’t want to assume.
Wiping the corners of her mouth with a paper napkin, Sara looked out over the ocean view and then looked back at him. “I suppose coming home right away might give her the idea that things didn’t go well.”
Relief washed over him. He hadn’t realized until this very second how much he didn’t want the day to end. “Then it’s back to the hotel.”
Her eyes flew open wide and he realized that didn’t come out the way he’d meant.
“They have an afternoon scavenger hunt. I thought it could be fun. First prize is a dinner at the rooftop restaurant.”
“I’ve seen folks running all over the hotel like a bunch of teenagers on prom night.”
“Have you ever participated?”
She shook her head. “Nope. The hunt is only for guests.”
“Will participating with me pose any problems for your job?”
Tipping her head to one side, she stared at him as if the solution to world peace was engraved on his forehead. “Workinghere might be seen as giving me an unfair advantage, but I really don’t spend much time on the main grounds only the rooms, so, I think it will be all right.”
“Do you want to do it?”
Her head still tilted slightly, a sweet smile bloomed at the edges of her lips. “Might be fun.”
