Page 41 of Honk if You Love Real Men (Tempting SEALs 1)

“I’ve put on sixty pounds.”

In hard muscle. “You look good . . . so good, it makes me wonder what one of the campus q

ueens would think of you now.”

“Actually, I dated Crystal. Gallager a few years back. She was crap in bed.”

Bree laughed a little. “She looked like she was crap in bed.”

Their gaze met, locked, each of them remembering how they’d stumbled across Crystal and her boyfriend having sex in the high school’s equipment room. Of how they’d been about to back out when Trent had stopped her, the couple having sex on blue athletic mats too far gone to notice them. Trent had put his hand under her shirt. . . .

“I’d forgotten all about that,” he said in a low voice.

Not her. It was the one sexual encounter she remembered with absolute clarity.

But she lied and said, “Me, too.”

His eyes grew dark, just the way they had that day at high school. Now they were traveling toward the hills surrounding the Bay Area, headlights flicking in and out of the cab, but she could still see the way the memories of that night aroused him. She had a sudden longing to be normal, to not have incessant fear beating at the back of her throat, to be, if only for a moment, taken by him—by Trent, her high school sweetheart.

But she didn’t think she was ready for that yet and so she appreciated the fact that he didn’t delve into the subject further. She realized then that he was building her trust. Little by little, showing her that he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Nice house,” she said as they pulled to a stop.

He didn’t say anything, just hopped out. Bree wondered if it would prove too much for him. Maybe he regretted offering to help her. Maybe he would ditch her at the party for some hot babe who’d put out.

No. Not Trent. She might not have seen him in years, but he hadn’t changed that much.

He guided her to the home’s elegant front door, leaded glass allowing a faint hint of music to come through. Behind them a view of the Bay Area looked like fireplace embers on the ground, yellow streetlights twinkling around the perimeter of the bay.

“Stan Miller is a client of mine. He’s a bit on the eccentric side, but I hear he throws a good party.”

“You’ve never been here before?”

“No. He’s invited me over a few times but tonight’s the first time I’ve accepted the invitation. I should know a few people though. Everyone seems to travel in the same circles.”

Bree nodded and soon they were shaking the infamous Stan’s hand.

“Make yourself at home,” their host said. “Mi casa es su casa,” he quipped, giving them a smile.

“Thanks, Stan,” Trent said.

“Glad you could make it,” Stan said, eyeing Bree up and down. And something about that gaze made Bree shiver, made her sidle up next to Trent.

“Bar’s outback.”

Trent nodded, his arm going around her shoulder as if sensing her discomfort.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” he whispered as they walked away.

Gratitude had her smiling up at him. “No. It’s okay. He obviously considers himself a player, despite his age.”

“Then he must own stock in Viagra,” Trent said.

Which made Bree laugh and feel better. It was a gorgeous home, and music poured out of hidden speakers. Trent seemed to know more than a few people, but he stayed by her side. She saw a few women eyeballing them, or more specifically, Trent. Not surprising. One of them, a stunning blonde, even lifted her champagne glass as if saluting Bree on snagging Trent as her escort. Bree looked away in embarrassment. If she only knew.

They mingled, they talked. Trent brought her drinks, and she had to admit, being out among a crowd was good for her. She hadn’t been out in a long time. Trent helped a lot by keeping her amused as they nibbled on finger food.

“Tired?” he asked a couple of hours later.

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