Sitting on one end, she twisted her body so that her leg was tucked under her and grabbed her notebook. Seeing his wide-eyed stare, she mumbled, “I thought it would make note-taking easier if we had something already here.”
He chuckled and said, “I’m glad you’re prepared. I guess I hadn’t really thought this evening through very well.”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she was uncertain what he meant by that. “I’m used to taking detailed notes when I meet with a client. That way, I can go back later and remember things that were said.” A slow smile stretched across his face and her heart stuttered, dreading that he still had this effect on her.
“I’ve always had a pretty good memory, but I like that you’re prepared.” He leaned forward and grabbed the other notebook and pen, twisting his body toward hers. “So, where should we start?”
She opened her notebook to the first page, embarrassed to admit that she had already jotted down a few ideas. “Well, how about some basics? We now already know each other’s phone number and address, but what about birthdates?”
Chuckling, he said, “Kinda like name, rank, serial number?”
“Yeah, I guess, although I hope you don’t see the situation as you being taken prisoner.” Sighing, she added, “Except I’m sure Nancy strong-armed you into this situation.”
He continued to smile as he leaned against the sofa cushions, his left arm draped across the back, his fingers close to her shoulder. Reaching out, he touched her lightly. “I promise that I don’t feel like I’m a prisoner.”
Her sofa was not large, and she felt the tingle of his fingertips barely touching her skin. Swallowing deeply, she stared into his light brown eyes, wondering if perhaps she was the prisoner.
“October 10.”
She blinked as she continued to stare. “Sorry?”
He tilted his head toward the notebook in her lap. “You’re supposed to write that down. It’s my birthday. October 10.”
Jerking her head up and down, she scribbled. “Right. Yes. October 10. Got it.” She felt heat settle on her cheeks but pushed past the blush. “And mine is June 26.”
“Born in Knoxville?”
“Yes. My dad was an art professor at the university. My mom worked in the UT library. He’s a photographer and Mom now writes.”
“Is that where you went to college?”
Nodding, she smiled. “I guess I’m like everyone else around here. If you cut me, I’d bleed orange. I missed the artistic gene. I majored in accounting. I think I always liked facts and figures and numbers. Accounting made sense to me.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “And you?”
“Nah, I was a Navy Brat to begin with. I was born in Norfolk, Virginia, and I started elementary school there. My dad was originally from Knoxville, so when he retired from the Navy, we moved back here. My grandpa had a building business, and Dad took over.”
“I never thought about your dad being in the Navy. Is that why you wanted to go?”
He shrugged as his fingertips continued to rest lightly on her shoulder. “I never really thought about it very much. Sure, my dad had some of his Navy pictures in the house, and I always thought the uniform was cool. But mostly I became infatuated with the SEALs the first time I heard about them. While everybody else in high school was itching to go to college, all I wanted to do was join up, serve, and then apply to become a SEAL myself.”
Her brow scrunched slightly, and she nibbled on the bottom of her lip. “I’m never quite sure what the protocol is in a case like this.” She noted his own lowered brows and rushed to explain. “I’d like to say thank you for your service, but I don’t want it to sound trite. I really do want to express gratitude that you chose that life and the sacrifices you make.”
He shrugged his muscular shoulders and shook his head slightly. “Thanks. I know some people get bent out of shape when they hear that, but I figure it’s always nice to know that what you’re doing is appreciated.”
“Are you going to stay in the Navy? I mean until you retire?”
His shoulders heaved again, but this time the smile slid from his face. “It’s hard to imagine a life without my team. It’s hard to imagine what else I would do. But, eventually, the body is unable to keep up with the demands of the missions. Some retire and get out of the service completely. Some have no choice when they’re medically discharged. Some stay in and take an instruction position. And others just decide they’ve had enough and get out.”
She remained quiet, but it did not pass her notice that he hadn’t actually answered her question. Hoping he would keep talking, she settled deeper into the sofa cushions.
“I gotta admit, if you’d asked me this question before I had this medical leave forced on me, I would’ve told you that I would stay in until I dropped. Now? It’s weird to recognize the limits of the human body.”
“I would’ve thought with all the training you’d have recognized that before. Have you never been injured?”
He shook his head. “Strangely, no. We learn to push ourselves beyond all limits and that becomes mental as well. We recognize that each of us have some weaknesses but, as a team, we function at a peak at all times. I confess that the last month has been mentally exhausting for me as well as physically.”
“Because you had to face that you can’t always do everything? You do realize that just makes you human.”
A deep laugh erupted, and she blinked at the sound. His voice was rougher than it had been when he was in high school, and yet her core spasmed in a way that she understood as an adult. Pure, mature, and oh, so sexy.
“That’s the problem, Lynn. SEALs aren’t supposed to be human.”
His intense gaze didn’t move off her face, and suddenly, the room felt very warm. Looking for a distraction, she dropped her head and stared at the notebook still lying on her lap. Grabbing her pen, she scribbled, then smiled. “I don’t want to forget anything, so I just wrote that SEALs aren’t supposed to be human.”
He laughed again, this sounding much more lighthearted, and she was glad she’d given him that. They spent the next few minutes sharing favorites: colors, food, movies, books. Their bodies gradually shifted closer, until his hand was firmly on her shoulder, his fingertips now drifting through her hair. He didn’t even seem aware of what he was doing, but her senses were heightened just having him near. She noticed every slight movement but forced her mind onto the task at hand.
“I’m surprised you don’t have a boyfriend.”
She had been doodling in her notebook and at his statement jerked her gaze back to his. Unable to read the emotion on his face, she could not tell if it was interest or idle curiosity. “Um…”
“Surely that’s not a hard question.”
“Well, it wasn’t really a question. You just made a statement.”
Grunting, he said, “Then let me make it a true question. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“Who says I don’t?”
Now it was his time to appear startled. “I guess I just assumed. If you had a boyfriend, would you be so interested in pretending to marry me?”