A SEAL's Pleasure (14 page)

Busted.

Any other time, Tessa would have laughed.

All she could manage right now was a wave of her hand, though.

“So what's wrong? You upset that I finally caught up with you?”

More like upset that all she wanted to do right now was curl into his arms for a hug. And not even a prelude-to-sex hug. A real, filled-with-affection-and-support hug.

“You might find this difficult to believe, but not everything revolves around you,” Tessa said defensively. Except that some things did revolve around him, which meant that while she might not be willing to offer an explanation, she did owe him an apology. Sighing, Tessa offered a remorseful shrug. “It's really nothing. I'm fine. I just have some things to think through.”

Hoping he'd get the hint, she turned to stare at the ocean again. But the view didn't soothe. Instead, the wild waves crashing over rocks added to the urgent sense of turmoil pounding through her system. What was she supposed to do?

Apparently she wasn't going to figure it out sitting here. So she got to her feet and rubbed her hands over her arms to chase away the sudden goose bumps, before bending down to scoop her shoes out of the sand.

“Did you want to walk on the beach?” he offered quietly. “It might help you clear your head.”

“Are you going to chew me out for not sticking around yesterday?” she asked, knowing she deserved it but not able to deal with that just yet.

“How about I hold off on the lecture and just offer to be a strong shoulder, a sounding board or maybe even a friend of sorts,” he said. His dark gaze was mellow, his tone quiet. Tessa wondered if this was his attempt at innocuous. She'd tell him it was useless, since a man with his level of sex appeal, power and energy could never be considered harmless. But he was so sweet, all she could do was smile.

“Sure. A walk on the beach would be nice.” Following his gesture, she made her way toward the water. Too chilly to sunbathe, the beach was sparsely populated, making for an easy trek to the ocean's edge.

Enjoying the feel of wet sand beneath her bare feet, she focused on the wind in her hair and the sound of the ocean, letting them soothe her in a way she'd never realized nature could.

She slid a surreptitious glance at the man walking quietly alongside her.

Well, nature, or Gabriel.

The longer they walked, the more stress fell away. It wasn't until they'd reached a place in front of one of the upscale resorts that she realized that the odd feeling in her belly was peace. Just the thought of it almost made her trip in the sand.

“Break?” Gabriel suggested.

“Sure.” Glancing at the plush lounge chairs set back from the water's edge, then down at the satin fabric of her long maxi dress with its brilliant turquoise and fuchsia flowers, she shrugged and dropped gracefully to the sand.

A position her butt was getting familiar with today.

“Here's fine,” she said, smiling up at him. She gave a rueful nod to the hut-style building just beyond the lounge chairs with its little windows boarded up. “Too bad the bar is closed.”

She could definitely use a drink.

“That's okay,” he said, dropping down next to her, settling his long legs straight out beside her. Then he pulled a small bottle out of his jacket pocket. “I brought wine.”

Tessa laughed in delight.

“Aren't you handy,” she said. “But I don't have a glass.”

“Live dangerously,” he suggested with a wicked grin. “Chug it from the bottle.”

So she did, appreciating the gesture and the excellent vintage. When she offered him a drink, he shook his head to indicate that this one was all hers.

He was so damned good-looking, leaning back with his elbows in the sand, his feet crossed casually at the ankles as he stared out at the water. His entire demeanor was mellow.

She frowned, looking closer as she realized that there was a whole lot of stress going on under that mellow. She'd been so self-involved that she hadn't seen it before.

She wasn't so self-involved that she thought those frown lines were because of her, though.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, reaching out for just a moment to skim her fingers over the back of his hand.

“I'm watching Mother Nature's glory with a beautiful woman by my side. How could I not be okay?”

Tessa's lips twitched.

Charm.

The guy must bathe in it.

She wanted to push the issue. To insist he open up, share his worries so she could try to help. Either that or pull him close into a soothing hug.

“I'll bet you were a great Boy Scout,” she heard herself saying instead.

Better, since asking emotional questions would obligate her to answer them in return. And she wasn't quite that peaceful yet.

“Me?” He laughed. “The closest I've come to being a Scout is the SEAL team.”

Tessa frowned when his smile faded. A trickle of worry seeped down her spine. His job, his entire world—it was so dangerous. Was there something wrong with his SEAL team? She opened her mouth, wanting to ask, needing to be reassured that his safety wasn't in danger.

But she couldn't ask.

“I'm surprised you weren't a Boy Scout,” she said, opting for the chicken route once again. “You've got that always-prepared thing down pat.”

“Scouting wasn't big on the reservation. Later I was living on the streets more often than not so would have missed the meetings.” He shrugged.

“Reservation?” Fascinated, Tessa shifted in the sand so she could more clearly see his face.

“I spent my first handful of years in and out of foster care until my grandfather found me. He took me to live with him on the reservation,” he said, his eyes distant as he watched the stars overhead. “He died when I was eleven.”

“I'm so sorry.” Unused to offering sympathy but unable not to, Tessa reached out again to lay her hand over the back of his. She gave it a quick squeeze, but before she could pull away, he turned his over so their fingers entwined.

Telling herself it was to offer comfort and not because his touch sent delicious zings of sexual delight through her body, Tessa left her hand there.

“He'd lived a full life,” Gabriel said with another shrug. “And he taught me a lot. I learned the importance of setting rules I could live with. He was big on dedicating oneself to a path and living it with honor.”

His voice took on that edge again, frustration and pain layered with anger.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her fingers tightening on his.

“Fine.”

“You don't sound fine.”

He gave her an arch look.

“Why don't we discuss what's bothering you first?” he suggested. “You know, pretend we have a real relationship where we share these little things.”

“Sarcasm,” she observed, totally in sync with the deflective benefits of well-placed snark. “Nicely done.”

He grinned, tilting his head in thanks. And, she realized, as a dare for her to step up and accept that they were really in that relationship he'd mentioned.

Relationship. Her feet twitched, her mind screaming at her to grab her shoes and run. But she'd run yesterday. She'd like to claim that doing the same thing twice made her predictable, and what woman wanted that label? But the reality was, she'd been miserable after running. And worse, she realized with a pang, she'd hurt Gabriel.

Did that mean he was right? They were in a relationship?

Okay, fine.

She took a deep breath, hoping it'd smother the panic clawing its way through her nervous system.

“I'm sorry I blew you off. Earlier and yesterday. I was...” The words stuck in her throat, forcing her to clear it before she could continue. “Us, together, it was amazing.”

“And amazing makes you run?”

There was no judgment in his voice, no anger on his face. Just acceptance and a sort of understanding that almost made her cry.

“Amazing is a little scary,” she admitted quietly.

“Yeah.” He squeezed her hand. That gentle pressure said more than a thousand words, letting Tessa know that he understood, that he felt exactly the same.

“We're selling
Flirtatious
,” she admitted, surprised at how little it hurt to actually say the words aloud.

“Your magazine?”

“Yeah.” She explained the history of it, starting with Jared's weird behavior and ending with the call from Maeve. The entire time, he listened with an intensity that made her a little nervous. She was used to surface interactions. It'd be easy to drown in these depths.

“It sounds like a great deal,” he said when she'd finished.

“It is,” she agreed. Then, after a brief hesitation, she added, “But there's more.”

“Tell me.” Gabriel shifted onto his side. The way his long body ranged out next to her would have offered a distraction if not for the intense look on his face.

“The media company offered me a job. They want me to come on board with them and write for three different publications, including
Flirtatious
after they take it over.”

“That sounds excellent, but you don't seem to think so,” he observed with an astute look.

Tessa hesitated. How did she explain that she already felt enough like a fraud doing something she was supposedly good at someplace with a built-in safety net like
Flirtatious
? The idea of doing more of it, with a bigger audience, was terrifying.

“It's hard for me to share this kind of thing,” she said with a rueful laugh. “Hard for me to open up. Admitting problems isn't good for the image.”

“The image you present to the world? Or the image you have of yourself?”

“Both.” She laughed, lifting her free hand in the air as if to say there was really no difference.

“Would it help if I tell you that I see a lot more than an image when I look at you?” he asked. “I see a strong woman, a sexy one who knows her own worth and demands that the world respect that. I see a woman with a wicked sense of a humor, deep wells of compassion and a huge heart. One who puts friends first, protects herself at all costs and who can do some very, very interesting things with her tongue.”

She laughed at that last part, trying not to squirm over the rest. Whether it was his smile, or the fact that she needed to distract her from the fact that she was blushing—something she couldn't ever remember doing before—she decided to confess.

“I don't know if I'll be good at it. Writing my columns, the articles, they've become more difficult over the past year. I feel as though I'm just recycling the same old thing, relying on stale formulas and internet alerts instead of sharing something worthwhile.” She stopped short of saying she felt like a failure, thinking that he was a smart guy, he could figure that part out himself. “But it's a great opportunity, a chance to make a lot more money and reach so many more readers. Fame, fortune... I'd be a fool to say no, wouldn't I?”

“Will they want you to write the exact same type of content as you have been?”

She hadn't asked. But if Jared had shut her down based on reader expectations, she couldn't imagine the new publishers would be any different. Frowning at their joined hands, Tessa shrugged. “It's what I'm known for.”

“But is it what you want to remain known for? You're great at what you do, angel. Don't doubt that. You bring a tongue-in-cheek humor to a minefield that a lot of people are struggling to navigate, and you do it in a way that makes them feel good about themselves. But if you feel as though you've tapped it out, maybe it's time to expand the field. Not leave it, but expand it.”

Tessa felt little tingles of excitement. She could so totally do that. Branch out a little, maybe delve into other topics. That didn't mean she'd be good at them, though.

The tingles took on a pained edge.

What if she was as much of a fraud writing about throwing parties or finding the perfect pair of boots as she was at flirting?

“What if they don't want that?” she asked with a frown, wanting to drop her head into her hands and scream. Or run for the nearest therapist's couch for an overhaul.

“Sometimes I think we get so hooked on what we're known for, so comfortable in our persona, that we're afraid to make changes. Even when not making changes hurts.”

Tessa waited for him to continue. To tell her exactly what she should do. Did she take the offer as is, did she push them to expand her assignments before she took it? Or did she simply walk away?

But he didn't say anything else. He just watched.

And then she understood.

She was lousy at taking advice. If he told her what to do, she'd throw up a million excuses. Either that or go in the opposite direction.

“You understand me a little too well for my own good,” Tessa admitted nervously. But there was a warm sort of joy in her heart that kept the nerves from getting out of hand.

“The way you feel about your image I feel about my reputation.” He shot her a wicked smile. “Despite our rough start, I have a reputation for being damned good at what I do, being easy to get along with and dependable to work with.”

She nodded. She'd seen him with Mitch, with his other team members, often enough to see the respect and trust they all had for each other.

“But I can't imagine you'd ever have to worry about anything you do affecting that,” she mused.

“Sometimes we don't have a choice. Other factors always come into play. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is accept that. In the SEALs, we train for months before a mission. We play out multiple scenarios, plan for every possibility. Even when we're sure of what we'll be facing, we still develop alternate options.”

“And if those other factors screw it all up?” she queried, thinking about how hard it would be to get another job writing if she took this offer and blew it.

“Then we deal with the fallout. That's life,” he said, lifting her hand to brush a kiss over her knuckles. “Reputations, images, plans—they all give way to life.”