Sexy SEAL Box Set: A SEAL's Seduction\A SEAL's Surrender\A SEAL's Salvation\A SEAL's Kiss (62 page)

Genna pressed her lips together, all of her attention on the milky sugar mixture she was stirring with that weird spoon. After a few seconds, she shrugged.

“That didn’t work out. I ended up staying here and did the community college thing instead.”

Maybe it was because all he’d ever wanted to do was get the hell out of Bedford, but Brody just wasn’t buying that she’d given up so easily on leaving.

Or maybe it was the way she refused to look at him.

Deciding this was going to take a while and he might as well be comfortable, he pulled out one of the ladder-back chairs, turned it backward and straddled it.

“Comfy?” she asked, the sarcasm as thick as the cream she was stirring.

“I could use something to drink,” Brody responded. “But otherwise, thanks, I’m pretty comfortable.”

After a long look, she walked over to the sink, took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with tap water. Since it gave Brody a great view of her butt, he couldn’t complain. Except that he wasn’t here to look at her butt, he reminded himself. He was here to find out what the hell had happened to her life after he’d left.

“You didn’t get to go to Stanford because of what happened between us?” he guessed, watching her face closely. “Was that your punishment for getting too close to a bad influence?”

She sighed, looking defeated for the first time he’d ever seen. Her entire being, face, body and spirit, seemed to sag.

“Do you blame me for your impromptu commitment to the military?” she asked, sidestepping his question. Again.

“No.” For a couple of years, he’d wanted to. But he’d never quite been able to justify it as fair.

“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble understanding that I don’t blame you for my parents going off the deep end with the overprotective control issues.”

“What happened?” Brody was as surprised at his words as Genna seemed to be. He never asked questions like that. He always figured people overshared anyway, so why encourage more? But all of a sudden, with Genna, he wanted to know everything.

Maybe he was suffering delayed reactions from his injuries. Or was in desperate need of a distraction from the upcoming therapy and return to base. But he couldn’t let it go. He had to know what had happened.

The buzzer chimed just then and she slid a thick mitten on her hand to pull out the little cake things she’d put in earlier. She touched the tops, added more water to the pan, then slid it all back in the oven and reset the timer. That should have given Brody plenty of time to talk himself out of the idiotic idea brewing in his head.

He didn’t quite manage it, though.

“Maybe we could try something new,” Brody said quietly.

Spooning the fluffy white cream she’d been stirring into a triangular shaped plastic bag, Genna glanced over. Heat flared in her eyes, making it clear she’d be interested in trying quite a few things. She wet her lips so they glistened, tempting him to ignore his conscience and give in to the need to taste her again. But instead of making any suggestions that could open the door to tasting, touching or anything else that’d feel great and show incredibly bad judgment, she arched one brow in inquiry.

“What’d you want to try?”

Brody tried the words out in his head, but they sounded too stupid to say aloud. Holy crap, he felt like a dorky schoolboy. Any second now he’d be shuffling his feet and, God forbid, blushing.

“Brody?”

He sighed, then faced the words the way he faced Hell Week, that sky full of empty air when he was jumping from a plane, and enemy fire. With a deep sigh, a straight spine and an unbreakable resolve.

“I thought we could try being friends.”

9

F
RIENDS
.

She and Brody Lane were friends.

Or at least, they were trying to be.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, though. She’d agreed because, well, she wanted to know the real Brody Lane. To find out if he was different from the guy she’d spent years fantasizing about.

Over the last couple weeks, she’d discovered three things.

He was completely different from the guy she’d thought he was. He was controlled and strong-willed, and didn’t hesitate to voice his beliefs.

He was exactly the same as the guy she’d thought he was. Quiet, almost to the point of being taciturn, clever and fun when he did have something to say, and so sexy that she got turned on just watching him breathe.

And, over the last few days, she’d come to realize that they actually could be friends. That they had enough in common, similar interests and values. That they’d found a rhythm and flow that felt good. And as great as that was, she would absolutely, positively, unquestionably go crazy if all Brody would ever be was her friend.

Genna peered into the mirror, trying to see if there was crazy shining in her eyes yet. Nope. A few hints of stress and a whole lot of sexual frustration, but no signs of crazy.

Just her normal blue gaze stared back at her, albeit wearing a little more makeup than usual. Her eyes were smudged in kohl, with a dusky gray shadow giving her a smoky, do-me-all-night look she’d practiced for hours. Pale pink lips with a hint of shimmer on her cheekbones and she was as close to sophisticated sexy as she figured she’d ever get.

She leaned back from the mirror, lifting her hair this way and that. Up or down? Down said casual, just two friends going to dinner. If anyone saw her and Brody together, she could play it off as just a friendly meet-up with a distant acquaintance. Up said fancy, maybe a date. There was no way to pass off fancy hair as a casual get-together. Fancy hair said she’d put in time, effort. That she was looking to score.

Which she was.

But she didn’t want anyone else knowing that.

Including Brody, who seemed completely determined to keep their relationship—or friendship, as he always corrected her—on his terms. Which included his stopping by at random times over the last week, eating cookies, testing her new recipes and nagging her to do something with her baking instead of giving it away. He didn’t talk much, but listened just fine as long as the conversation wasn’t about him. Which meant Genna did all the talking. She hadn’t realized how much she had to say, things she couldn’t say to the other people in her life. Frustrations and worries, dreams and fears.

But nothing about them. Nothing personal. The minute she’d bring up that night ten years ago, Brody would shut it down. If she mentioned their first meeting two weeks ago, he changed the subject.

And the few times she’d tried flirting?

He’d walked out.

Genna dropped her hair and pressed her fingers to her temples.

Clearly, it was going to be a hair-down kind of evening.

But she wanted it up.

She sighed. Yeah. She was going crazy.

“Hey.”

Genna jumped.

She’d been so focused on her image, she hadn’t heard Macy come in.

Her stomach tightened with nerves that had nothing to do with Brody, but everything to do with her relationship with him.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, glancing from Macy to the clock. Brody wasn’t due for twenty minutes. Hopefully she could shoo her friend out before he got here.

“I came by to borrow your printer. The caterer emailed me the final contract,” Macy said, her tone distracted as she gave Genna a suspicious twice-over. Clearly the first glance had tipped her off. Genna brushed her fingers over her hair, hanging loose and casual, and bit her lip.

“What’re you doing?” Macy asked, stepping farther into the room. Her gaze swept from Genna’s dress to the three others tossed on the bed, then landed on the tangled pile of shoes next to the closet. Her arched brows demanded information.

Genna didn’t want to give it to her, though.

Macy would judge. And since Brody had been stubbornly reluctant to take his hero dues, especially in public, the gossip had shifted. Now the lunchtime buzz wasn’t as much about Brody Lane, the military hero. It was more speculation with a whole lot of rehashing his past.

Macy, like Genna’s parents, would buy into the speculation, rather than trusting the hero buzz.

“I’m just trying on outfits. You know, playing girl for a change.” Just because she lived most of her life in jeans didn’t mean she didn’t have a great wardrobe of things she never got to wear anywhere. Especially the shoes. A girl who stood five-ten barefoot and only seemed to date insecure men never got to wear heels. Since Brody was secure as hell and six-two, she’d figured this was a great time to scuff those soles.

But she didn’t want to tell Macy that, either.

“You’re going out?”

“Maybe.”

“With Stewart?” Macy said, looking at the four-inch, pointed-toe stiletto pumps on Genna’s feet.

“Eww. No. He collects troll dolls. Remember?”

“Then who are you going out with?”

Crap. Genna gave the clock a wincing glance and realized she wasn’t going to get out of this. She took a deep breath and put on her most confident face.

“With a friend for a friendly dinner. Sort of repayment for a few dozen cookies, a cake and a couple of pies. You know how everyone pays me for my baked goods in favors or in exchange?”

“I don’t remember you getting all dressed up when Mr. Jenson bought you lunch last month for making his granddaughter birthday cupcakes.”

“That’s because Mr. Jenson bought me a hoagie and a side of fruitcake off the lunch truck and he didn’t even invite me to the party.” And, of course, there was the fact that the sixty-year-old pharmacist looked nothing like her hot and hunky SEAL.

“So. Who’s been eating your cookies?” Macy asked suspiciously.

Sadly, no one. Since Macy wouldn’t understand or appreciate that joke, Genna just shrugged.

“Genna...”

“Brody Lane,” she blurted out, throwing her hands in the air. “There. Now you know. I’m going to dinner—a casual, just-between-friends dinner—with Brody Lane.”

From the horror in her eyes and the drop of Macy’s chin, maybe it’d have been better if she’d said she was going to dinner with an ax murderer.

“Like I said, it’s just a thank-you meal. No big deal.”

Macy’s mouth worked, but nothing came out. Good. Genna knew she wasn’t going to like hearing it when her friend recovered.

Pretending her spine wasn’t so tight it’d take a chiropractor and a sledgehammer to crack it, she moved to the full-length mirror to check her dress. Was it too fancy for a simple dinner between friends?

Red and fitted with a sweetheart neckline that made the most of the very little she had, the bodice hugged her body to the waist before flaring into full pleats to just above her knees.

She sneaked a glance at Macy’s expression in the mirror. The other woman looked like she figured a straitjacket would be a better fit.

“Okay. What? Go ahead and say whatever you have to say. But do it fast, because Brody’s going to be here in ten minutes and I’m leaving.”

“You’re crazy. Don’t you remember what happened last time you chased after this guy? How furious your parents were? In case you forgot, your mom ended up in the hospital and your brother in jail.”

Praying for patience, Genna reminded herself that this was her oldest, dearest friend. And that she was too heavy to throw out the window.

“Joe stole a car. That had nothing to do with me, my actions or Brody. He would have gone to jail even if I was sitting at home eating popcorn and watching reruns of
Friends
.” Something she’d told herself, and her parents, a million times over. Dammit, she wasn’t to blame for her brother’s choices. “And Mom went to the hospital because she had an asthma attack. Again, in no way related to my actions that night.”

“Her asthma attack could have been brought on by stress,” Macy said, parroting Cara so perfectly that it was all Genna could do to not look around the room for her mother.

Or cry.

“That doesn’t mean I caused the stress. Joe gets the lion’s share of the credit for that. Or it could have been brought on by the heat.” Genna frowned, wondering why the hell she was always to blame for everything when she was the least of the contributors. When did she get to stop paying for her brother’s choices? And when the hell would someone trust her to run her own life?

Trying for patience, she smiled through gritted teeth. “Macy, my mom is a hypochondriac. Even the doctor says so. My brother was on a collision course with himself.”

And Genna had paid, and paid and paid and paid, for that night. As horrible as she felt about Joe’s choices, about what’d finally happened to him, she was tired of paying.

“It’s no big deal. Seriously, don’t get all weirded out.” Genna wanted to check her lipstick, but figured primping would negate her entire pitch. “Brody is staying at his gramma’s while he recovers, so he’s living across the alley and we’ve run into each other a few times. Partially because the mayor wants to do an event for him. Hero’s welcome and all that.”

Something Brody had no interest in. Still, Genna had started putting together tentative ideas, in case she changed his mind. After all, he was a hero and maybe if he saw how much the town appreciated his service, he’d have a different opinion of Bedford. And of the idea of visiting here more often after he’d gone back on duty.

And maybe after seeing Brody praised and paraded, everyone would see what a great guy he was. A much better guy than someone like, oh, say Stewart.

“It’s really no big deal,” she said again. This time as much to convince herself as Macy.

“You’re going on a date. For Valentine’s Day.”

“We’re going to dinner. On a Tuesday,” Genna corrected, checking her purse for necessities. “Valentine’s isn’t until Friday.”

Lipstick, keys, license and credit card, condom, twenty-dollar bill, cell phone.

Looked as if she was all set.

“Hey, there’s nothing between us. We’re friends. That’s it. That’s all he wants.” She met Macy’s eyes and straight up lied. “And that’s all I want.”

“Fine.” Macy huffed, then handed Genna the black leather gloves and wool jacket from the chair, as if covering her as much as possible before she went downstairs was going to keep her virtue intact. “When’s he leaving?”