Page 34 of Honk if You Love Real Men (Tempting SEALs 1)

“You can’t?” he asked, his voice so low, she couldn’t hear him at first.

“I just can’t,” she said, looking away and then darting to the edge of the bed.

Chapter Two

Trent stared into the eyes of the only woman he’d ever loved, his mind refusing to comprehend her words.

He blinked, and it was as if by doing so he’d washed away a lust-induced haze.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up. She turned on the king-sized bed so she faced the other direction. “I know you think I’m a tease, but I just can’t.”

He saw it then, saw the tenseness in her shoulders, the way her rib cage expanded and contracted with each panicked breath. Because that’s what she was . . . panicked.

“Bree, what’s wrong?” he asked, the high he’d felt since spying her sitting in front of his job site fading away in a cloud of concern. She was back, yes, but obviously there was more to her reappearance than she’d let on.

“It’s nothing. I just can’t do this.”

But it was more than nothing. He knew by the way she wouldn’t look at him. The woman he remembered was one who’d never have had a problem facing her troubles. It was one of the things he’d most admired about her—and the reason she’d ultimately left town. San Jose had held no challenges for Breanna Miller. So she’d struck out for college with a vague promise of returning. Only she never had.

She’d broken his heart.

Trent bent and recovered his clothes. When he’d finished dressing, he went around to her side of the bed. She hadn’t moved, her face pale, her black brows shielding her eyes. Amazing how little she’d changed. Well, she’d dropped a bit of weight but the black hair and blue eyes were exactly the same.

“Hey,” he said, touching her shoulder.

She jumped about a foot.

Their gazes locked. Trent saw fear.

“God, Bree. Are you okay?”

Stupid question. Obviously, she wasn’t. He stared down at her, unsure what to do next.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said in a monotone. “I just need to be alone.”

“Fuck that,” he said. “Something happened to make you like this. What was it?”

She didn’t answer. Trent almost gave up. But she held him there, Breanna Miller and the past they shared.

“Somebody hurt you?”

Still no answer, but he saw the shoulders twitch, almost as if they’d flinched.

“My God . . . rape you?”

Her head ducked even more. Bile rose in his throat. It shocked him, the rage. He hadn’t seen her in years. Hell, she hadn’t even bothered to call. But the past melted away as remnants of his long-forgotten feelings for her resurfaced. God, he hadn’t ever thought twice about jumping into bed with her.

Someone had raped her.

God damn it.

“Who?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

He thought she wouldn’t answer again, had decided he’d cross over to the armchair in the corner of the room, sit down and wait it out. But then she slowly looked up, and when their gazes met, it felt as if the walls of the room closed in.

She was crying.

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