Covertly Strong (The Strong Series Book 1) (15 page)

Oh, he was looking to see if I am married.
Sloan can’t deny the small surge of satisfaction that realization jolts inside her chest.

“Thank you.” Her quiet words attempt to show her appreciation without revealing the fact that she is still stunned beyond belief. She may as well be facing a strange paranormal entity.

Her long lashes blink incessantly to distinguish reality
. Is this really happening? Or is this a mirage?
Some ridiculous dream?
Her fingers inch down to her hip and discreetly pinch the skin of her thigh, trying to make sure this is real.

She’s severely aware of the need to regain composure. This is neither the time nor the place to have an impromptu reunion. Yes, Nix was once one of the most important people in her life, but that was a long time ago.

She can’t stop the questions that flood her mind as she continues to remember the past.
WHY? Why did he give up on us?
She knows with every ounce of her soul that she wouldn’t have given up hope of reuniting with Nix if she had thought he was waiting for her. And when she finally did give up—attempted to move on with her life—a part of her died. The part that believed in soul mates and true love. The part that allowed herself to daydream about the future. A future that could have been filled with eternal vows. A future that could have included white picket fences and nightly sunset walks while holding hands with the most important man in her life. When she gave up on Nix, she gave up on those dreams.

And now, after everything she’s endured, they only seem like silly possibilities.

But what am I supposed to think now?
What are the odds that she would come face to face with him again? The United States isn’t exactly small, and Sloan spends most of her time traveling to other countries.

She takes inventory of his dress-blue attire and the prestigious trident that’s displayed on his chest, indicating that not only is Nix in the Navy, but he’s a Navy SEAL. She makes a mental note to finally do the one thing she’s refused to do for a very long time—use her finely tuned research skills to dig up information on him. Obviously, this isn’t something CIA agents should do, but it’s an inevitability that will occur once this shocking run-in with him is over. Every woman experiences the urge to endeavor in a little Internet stalking on former lovers at least once in her life, and sometimes it’s necessary to give in to that urge—to scratch that undeniable itch for information.

Following his lead, she glances down at his left hand and is happy with what she sees.
No ring.
True, he’s not married, but a guy like Nix doesn’t walk around for a decade and a half without getting snatched up by some lucky bitch. Sloan can easily picture him with a woman who is tall and blond and built like a Playboy model. Maybe that’s a cliché or an unfair stereotype, but from her experience, that always seems to be the type of women military guys like Nix are drawn towards—perfect trophy wives who have no qualms with sitting at home and playing the little woman while their husbands endeavor to succeed in their careers. Women who are the complete opposite of her.

Her chest aches and her throat feels dry and scratchy from the painful thoughts of him with other women. He was hers in every possible way, but now, he’s not hers anymore. And the thought of him being someone else’s might as well be a six-inch blade slicing through her exposed chest.

Sloan can remember the thrill of amusement he would get whenever she would get jealous, it was a rare occurrence, but did happen on occasion. He would laugh and pull her into an embrace, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Nix just had a way with her. A way to tame her wild feistiness while simultaneously letting her spread her wings and be her true self. He was once her perfect match. Her missing puzzle piece. Her equal in all things.

But right now, in this very instant, just being in his presence hurts. Seeing and talking to him without really being able to be herself might kill the remaining life that remains inside her soul. She has questions. She wants answers. And she senses that very same desire mirroring in his eyes.

He slides his hands in the pockets of his perfectly pressed dress pants, drawing her eyesight in the direction of dangerous territories. She closes her eyes for a brief second, refusing to blatantly check him out in a very inappropriate way. It’s extremely hard
not
to look at every inch of someone you used to know intimately. She can easily recall what Nix used to look like, and she can only imagine that he’s probably even better now…

Her skin heats from the mere idea of him naked.

God, just remembering the way he could make her feel.

He breathed life into her, made her feel more alive than she’s ever felt in her entire thirty-two years of living. Together, they were beautiful. They were strong. They were
right
.

“So do you live in the San Diego area?” he inquires with curiosity.

Her eyes are now open and she has no idea how long they were closed. He must think she’s completely mental. Hell, she
feels
mental. Nix has evoked more emotions in the span of five minutes than she’s felt in the past ten years. Furious one second, elated the next, and seemingly incapable of answering the simplest questions while those intense eyes of his stare down at her. Right now, her brain might as well be controlled by an erratic pendulum.

A small smile plays at the corner of his lips as he continues to gaze down at her. His generous six-foot-two frame hovers over her petite five-foot-four figure with ease. He practically dominates her personal space, and normally, this wouldn’t bother her, but for some reason, it makes her feel uncomfortable. She’s uncomfortable because, for the first time in a very long time, a man has managed to make her feel like a woman. His strength and overpowering dominance make her feel feminine, like he could protect her from anything—
except a broken heart.

A scowl mars her face as anger begins to boil below the surface of her skin. After so many years, she finds herself face to face with a man she assumed had moved on. He left her brokenhearted, utterly bereft, and without the slightest reason why.
How could any woman be sane when faced with something like this?

She clears her throat as she racks her brain to remember what in the hell he just asked her. Then she finally answers his question—a question that might as well have been spoken two hours ago.

“For right now, yes. I tend to travel all over the world because of Project Smiles.”

“How long are you in San Diego?” His tone reveals no inkling of nervousness or unease, but his face flashes with irritation for a quick moment. He looks away. His fingers run through his thick, brown hair as his chest inhales a cavernous breath.

Why in the hell is irritated with me?

HE gave up on us. NOT me.

“You sure are asking a lot of questions,” she scolds as she decides to see where in the hell this is going to go. It’s not like they can chat it up about normal shit. She’s facing her first love under a completely different name—a name that belongs to the goddamn CIA.

Nix’s eyes find their way back to hers and a low chuckle passes his lips. The irritation is now replaced with amusement. “I can’t help myself. I’m a curious kind of guy.” He shrugs is broad shoulders.

“I can see that.” She shoots a playful glare and can’t hide her laughter.

His emotions are beginning to appear just as erratic as hers.

And she’s thankful she’s not the only one on the verge of losing it.

“I’m in San Diego for another week or so and then I’ll be back on a plane for another Project Smiles mission. What about you”—she peeks down at his military insignia—“Lieutenant West? Do you live in San Diego?”

“Yes. When I’m not being shipped out to some shithole town in the middle of nowhere, I call this lovely city home,” he answers with an all-too-familiar smile—the smile that once had the power to make her panties fall right off.
Hell, it probably still does.
“Do you have plans this evening?”

Her brow squints in confusion. She’s completely taken aback by the way he’s handling their little run-in with each other. “Uh…my plans include heading back to my apartment, getting my feet out of these heels, and putting myself to bed.”

He has to know that it’s her.
How couldn’t he?
She’s shocked that he hasn’t even attempted to address the reason for the palpable tension that flows between them like a goddamn electrical current.

“Well now your plans have changed,” he announces confidently as a mischievous grin kisses his mouth.

Her eyebrows rise in incredulity. “Is that so?”

He nods his head up and down in three determined movements. “Very so. You look like you could use a drink, and I know just the place. A few of my buddies and I are heading over to Gallagher’s Pub. It’s only a few blocks from here.”

“I don’t even really know you,” she lies. Her index finger involuntarily reaches up to her face, tapping the side of her nose in a fidgety movement.

Nix’s laser-sharp gaze hones in on that pesky finger, scrutinizing the motion.

Once she realizes the awkward placement, she quickly moves her hand back down to her side. “I don’t think it would be prudent of me to just follow random men to a bar I’ve never been to.” There’s another lie. Sloan knows all about Gallagher’s Pub. Hell, she knows all about everything that resides within San Diego. This is what makes her great at her job. She makes herself acutely aware of her location and surroundings—painstakingly so.

“But we’ve already met.”

Her eyes go wide. “Huh?” she asks with feigned confusion.

His pearly whites flash a vivid smile, nearly knocking her on her ass. He glances down at his watch before peering back up at her through his thick lashes. “Yeah, about five minutes ago,” he jokingly reminds her. “You didn’t already forget, did you?” He holds his hand to his chest and fakes discomfort. “Talk about hurting a man’s ego. Am I really that forgettable?”

Sloan lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, her head involuntarily shaking at his antics. She can’t hide the hilarity that radiates from her face. “Are all Navy SEALs like this?” she questions amusedly.

Nix’s brow creases, highlighting those gorgeous eyes of his. “Who said I was a SEAL?”

She points her index finger towards his perfect chest. “Your trident.”

He quickly glances down before locking his gaze with hers. “Keen observation, Dr. Santora. So what do you say? Will you trust me and two of the best guys I know to buy you a drink and entertain you for a few hours?”

“Please, call me Felicia, and I have a feeling you’ve used that line on a lot girls, Lieutenant.” The flirtatious retort flies out of her mouth before she could even process it.
What the hell? Am I really flirting with him right now?

Nix chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m not the kind of guy who resorts to cliché pick-up lines to get what he wants.” The corners of his mouth quirk up, accentuating his strong jawline. “So what do you say,
Felicia
? Will you grace us with your exquisite presence this evening?”

Her eyes hone in on his lips.
God, he always had the most perfect mouth
. Full, soft, yet firm, with lips that gave the best kisses. Kisses that could make a girl forget her name. Kisses that could make a girl get down on her knees and beg for his hand in marriage.

Incredible, perfect kisses.

Nix clears his throat, abruptly pulling Sloan from the inventory of the brazen man before her.

She glances into his intense, blue orbs one last time, taking in every inch of their spectacular beauty. Her brain mulls over his question. The rational side of Sloan is practically screaming for her to bid the sailor goodnight and head for the door, but the other side of Sloan—the irrational side that once allowed herself to fall in love—is pushing her to accept his offer.

And she shocks herself to her very core when, “Yes,” slips from her lips.

His face instantaneously lights up.

Before Nix can respond, two men are standing next to him with knowing grins etched across their faces. “You ready, Boss?” One of them asks as his face glances back and forth between Nix and Sloan, curiously gauging their current state.

“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m bringing my new friend.” Nix nods his head in her direction. “Julian, Slade, this is Felicia Santora.” He kindly introduces her to his buddies and both men flash looks that say, “We more than approve of this.”

“Very nice to meet you both.” She politely offers her hand and proceeds to shake the strong hands of both men. Her mind has a difficult time processing the fact that all three of these men are Navy SEALs, and all three of them are ridiculously good-looking.

Get it together, Sloan.

Ten minutes in Nix’s presence and she’s morphed into her sixteen-year-old self all over again. He has her appreciating men like a giggling teenager and managed to get her to agree to drinks. She doesn’t do drinks. Nights out at bars are never on her agenda. The last time she went out for drinks with friends was in college.

This. Is. Ludicrous.

“Well, let’s go.” Impatiently, Julian urges, “It’s already after ten and I’ve got several beers with my name on them.”

Slade chuckles and pats Julian on the back. “We better get out of here before Julian starts harassing the staff. I have a feeling, if we don’t leave soon, he’ll start begging them to sneak him booze while they’re trying to close down for the night.”

Julian and Slade walk out of the ballroom, leaving Nix and Sloan to follow their lead.

“After you, Felicia.” Nix gestures with his hand.

She wills her feet to move—no easy feat considering her insides are practically shaking from his close proximity. His hand gently presses against the small of her back—one of her most sensitive spots—and she immediately thinks,
This. Is. Bad.

She feels reckless and out of control, yet she can’t find the ability to care. She’s setting herself up for trouble with a capital T. And for some unknown reason, the exciting thrill that buzzes under her skin seems to be the only feeling she can discern. It must be the only goddamn thing that’s motivating her hasty decisions tonight.