SEAL the Deal (8 page)

“Great. We’ll drop off your car at your
place, and go from there.”

She couldn’t help noticing his take-charge
attitude. “You have a knack for talking people into things. You’d be a good
lawyer.”

“Who says I’m not a lawyer? The Navy’s got
enough on staff.”

“I say. My mom’s a corporate finance
lawyer. I know a lawyer when I see one. Besides, lawyers don’t have those.” She
gave a slight nod at his arms.

“Those what?”

Lacey felt a surge of boldness, a sudden
need to touch him, and reached out to lightly trace her hands along his upper
arms. The damn things were like tree trunks, as hard and thick as she had
remembered. Her body temperature rose by ten degrees. “These. You can’t get
arms like this pushing papers or sitting in court all day. I don’t know what
you do for the Navy, but you’re no lawyer.”

Feeling his biceps constrict under her
fingertips, her eyes widened. Hunger flashed momentarily in his eyes, but then
just as quickly, the spark disappeared and he patted her on the shoulder.

 “Well, you’ll just have to control
yourself. We’re just friends, remember?” He winked. “I’ll follow you back to
your place. Hurry up. I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” Lacey answered quietly. He had
no idea what she was hungry for.

Or maybe he did.

***

They found themselves lingering, taking
too long to order, to eat, to sip the last of the bottle of wine Mick had
ordered. Lacey took a long look at the label before the waiter took it away so
that she could recommend it to Maeve when she got home.

Under the blurring effects of a French
Pinot, Lacey had to keep reminding herself to steer clear of funerals or the
late Dr. Baker as a topic of conversation. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that
difficult. He was fascinating, she thought as she comfortably rested her head
on her hand and gazed at him.

Of course, everything was more fascinating
after sharing a bottle of wine.

“So do you like teaching?” she asked as
her coffee arrived.

Mick passed her the cream. “I’m hoping it
will grow on me. I’m a SEAL. I like work that’s a bit more physical.”

Lacey couldn’t resist sending a discerning
gaze across his impressive shoulders. Yeah, I’ll bet, she thought.

He continued, obviously energized by
talking about his preferred job. “SCUBA, parachuting, hand-to-hand combat. SEALs
have the best training out there, and I’m not exactly putting it to use here.” He
gave an almost imperceptible stretch that broadened his chest even more.

Lacey’s mouth watered.

“And I know it sounds crazy, but I miss
the risk.” He paused, sending a nod of thanks to the waiter as he took away his
dish. “So how about you? Why real estate?”

“Oh, I just love the risk, too,” she
joked, tossing his own words back at him. “I never know when a seller might
have a Doberman that they failed to tell me about. And there’s the physical
challenge. When I show a townhouse, there’s a lot of stair climbing involved.”

“Climbing stairs.” Mick glanced downward. “So
that’s how you keep those great legs in shape.”

Lacey fought the blush that was creeping
up her neck. “Seriously, though, I don’t know why I ended up in real estate. I’ve
barely been at it a year now. I think it’s the only career I hadn’t tried.” She
sighed, suddenly feeling pathetic sitting next to a man who had done so much in
his career. Sort of like how she felt sitting next to her sister, come to think
of it.

“Are you liking it?”

“Real estate? I like some parts of it. People
sell or buy homes when there’s something major going on. I like being there to
help them through it. Job changes, marriage, babies, d—” Lacey cut
herself short from saying death, remembering where she and Mick had met. “d—divorce,”
she finished quickly.

“So you’re a people person.”

 “Yeah, that’s me. Unfortunately, I’m
discovering that I’m not the best salesperson, and that’s what it really takes
to succeed. I attract the ‘lookie-loos’—the people who just like looking,
but never buy. I probably rack up a thousand miles a week just driving people
from house to house. What I need are more sellers. That’s where the money is.”
She reached for a packet of sugar just as he did, the touch between them only
lasting an instant. Yet still, her breath caught. Her eyes locked on his, and
she memorized them, the delicate pattern of his irises, a striking steel blue
with indigo flecks that looked like turbulent waves on the sea.

A smile curved his lips as he took the
sweetener from her and poured it into her cup. Stirring for her, he paused thoughtfully.
“There has to be some way to find people who seriously want to sell. Maybe
advertising or networking?”

Lacey’s eyes widened, realizing they were
treading into dangerous territory. “What I need—” she began, quick to
change the subject, “—is to be more like my sister.”

“Your sister?”

Lacey nodded. “She’s a huge success. Started
out in financial planning like our dad, and now she’s on all these finance
shows on TV.”

“Really?”

“She’d never put up with clients walking
all over her like I do. The minute she figured out someone wasn’t serious,
she’d literally dump them on the curb and move on. She was on the cover of
BusinessWeek
last month, you know.” She couldn’t help being a bit boastful about her sister.
Lacey was proof that sisterly pride could blend seamlessly with envy.

Mick studied Lacey for a moment. “Huh. What’s
her name?”

“Vi Owens.”

The recognition in his eyes was obvious. Lacey
had seen it so many times before. Right now, he was picturing Vi with her
perfect hair, doe-like eyes, and full lips. It was an injustice that someone so
successful could be drop-dead gorgeous, too.

Mick quickly glanced down at his water
glass and took a sip.

Lacey grinned. “You know her. I can tell.”

Their eyes met and Mick tried to sound
casual. “Yeah, I might recognize the name. I watch CNBC sometimes.”

Lacey warmed inside, realizing that Mick
was trying to look unimpressed by Vi to protect her feelings. It was adorable. “It’s
really fine. I’m proud of her.”

“I can’t believe she’s your sister. You
look nothing alike.”

“Hey, that’s not a nice thing to say since
she’s Wall Street’s equivalent to Angelina Jolie.”

“You’re
both
beautiful, just in
different ways.” With a fleeting look downward, he added, “And you have better
legs.”

“Thanks.” Lacey blushed. “Vi was adopted. That’s
why we look so different. But what’s ironic is that she’s so much more like my
parents than I am. They’re so driven. Very successful. Just like Vi.”

“And you’re not driven?”

 “Not like Vi always has been. She
was a Wall Street profit monger before she even knew there
was
a Wall
Street. I mean—” she paused, seeing an example was necessary, “—she
used to sell her Halloween candy piece-by-piece for profit to kids in school.”

Mick choked back a laugh. “She
sold
her Halloween candy? Lacey, that’s not driven. That’s insane.”

“She did it every year till we were too
old to trick-or-treat. And a million things like it. The topic of her sixth
grade term paper was compounding interest. In high school she started an
investing club.” She looked into the distance thoughtfully. “Even back then,
Mom and Dad would boast about her to everyone. One time I actually overheard
one of their friends say, ‘Are you sure
Vi’s
the adopted one?’”

Mick winced. “How old were you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Eight. Maybe nine.”

“Hell of a thing to hear at that age.”

Lacey’s lips pursed together, strangely
tempted to confess how much it really had hurt her. That comment. All the
comments she heard as she was growing up.

She shook her head. “So anyway, that’s why
I’m focusing on my career until I have a few good listings go to settlement. I’ve
actually got my first closing next week. It’s not much, but I also have a
waterfront that I just put on the market.”

Taking a sip of her coffee, her eyes met
his again. She didn’t
want
to like him. Didn’t want to think of him as
any more than a perfect face topping a just-as-perfect body. But she found
herself opening up, easing into the conversation as naturally as she had leaned
in toward him that day in the funeral home parking lot. As though some inexplicable
magnetic force would draw her toward him even if she couldn’t see his
mouthwatering presence. Even if the lights were out.

The lights out. Now, there was a thought.

Clearing her voice awkwardly, she hoped he
couldn’t see the steam she felt rising from her body. She glanced out the
window. “I have this crazy fantasy about sitting down at the dinner table at
Thanksgiving at my parents’ house and announcing my first waterfront sale. I’m
sure they’ve always wondered if they brought the wrong baby home from the hospital.”
She laughed, reaching for more cream. “I guess that sounds lame—to be
thirty and still trying to impress my parents.”

Mick shrugged. “I’ve seen guys go to war
to try to impress their parents. It doesn’t sound too unusual to me.”

 “Is that why you joined the
military? To impress your parents?”

“Hell, no. I did it to get laid.” His eyes
sparked with amusement.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. I was this really skinny
kid in high school. The guy no one would date, you know? But I was smart, and I
got into the Academy. Got the Navy uniform and suddenly women are slipping me
their numbers.” He gave a wink, and then his face grew serious. “No, I’ll admit
there was a little more to it than that. I needed direction. The Navy gave me
that. Then the war broke out and that’s when I knew I wanted to be a SEAL. And
that wasn’t to get laid, believe me. I knew I’d be good in the action.”

“Your parents must be proud.”

“My mom died of lung cancer when I was
nine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My dad’s proud, but we’re not very close.
I have one brother, but he’s ten years older than me. I guess that difference
in age stopped us from developing much of a relationship.”

“That’s a shame.” Lacy reflected on her
own relationship with her sister. It may have had its struggles, but she couldn’t
imagine not having her in her life.

“He lives in New Mexico now with his
second wife. I saw them once before I was deployed to Afghanistan the first
time. They drove up to San Diego to see me off. But, you know, life just goes
on. I haven’t seen him since. We email once in a while.”

He reached for his water glass and swirled
around the ice cubes. “I really should go out there and visit. I’ve been away
so much, but that’s just an excuse. Now that I’m stuck in Annapolis, I’ll have
nothing but time on my hands, compared to my time in the SEALs.”

“You don’t seem too happy about being here.”

A fierceness washed over his face,
disappearing so quickly Lacey questioned whether she had even noticed it. “I
was slated for another SEAL job in San Diego, but things changed and I ended up
here.” He gave a slight nod out the window to the Naval Academy across the
water, with the distinctive profile of its Chapel dome illuminated against the
evening sky. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the Academy. But teaching isn’t what
guys like me are meant to do.”

“How long will you be here?”

“Two years at most. Hopefully I’ll be
headed to San Diego, and after that, deployed. I need to get back in the
action.”

Lacey felt a sadness that she couldn’t
understand. She reminded herself that he was only—could only be—a
friend. How long he stayed here shouldn’t matter so much to her.

But it did.

“Well, I hope that’s what happens, then,”
she forced herself to say.

***

If Lacey had looked tempting to Mick in
the candlelight, then the drive home was pushing him over the edge. He had
never thought the blue lights of his dashboard could make a woman look so
appealing. He wished he was a teenager again, and could park the car in some
deserted lot for a while before returning her home before curfew.

There was a warmth, a pure honesty about Lacey
that he found so refreshing. He glanced in her direction as her tongue caught a
renegade drip of chocolate ice cream dribbling down her waffle cone. Smiling, her
eyes sparkled.

God, she was sexy in that sweet,
girl-next-door kind of way. He was sitting in the car with the kind of woman
most men dared to wish was waiting home for them after a deployment.

No wonder he avoided this kind of woman
like the plague.

As they reached a stoplight, Mick stole a
long look at her, just as a drip of ice cream fell onto her shirt. Right on the
peak of her breast, Mick noted, biting his tongue to stop himself from offering
to lick it off.

“Nuts,” she said quietly, her hand
brushing lightly against her breast. Pulling his eyes away from the profile of
her tight nipples against the thin fabric, the blood in his head rushed south.