At Her SEAL's Command (SEALs of Roseville, Book One) (2 page)

Dylan’s brows shot up and his jaw dropped. “Why would I do that?”

“Cut the crap, Harper. I know you’ve got a thing for her. Now that you’re out of the military it’s time to do something about it.”

Dylan’s fingers went slack and he almost dropped Reya’s cell phone.

“Come again?”

“Look, she’s my baby sister, and I’ve always been there for her. Maybe a little too much sometimes but for a while it was just me and her. And there’s no one I’d trust her with more than you.”

“I, ugh—” Dylan didn’t know what to say. His heart swelled and he felt a little taller, but at the same time, the pressure was intense. Teo wasn’t just another brother of a woman Dylan was interested in dating. They’d been the best of friends for years, had joined the SEALs together. And if he somehow hurt Reya, Teo was one lethal son of a bitch.

“Thanks. That means a lot,” he finished.

“You hurt her and—”

“I got you.” What he really wanted to say was there was no way in hell he’d intentionally hurt her.

“Well, keep me posted. My time's up.”

“Be safe and come home.”

“Will do. Take care of her for me?”

“Always.”

“I'm glad you're there, now that she's home.” There was more he wanted to say, Dylan was sure of it.

“Tell her I said 'take care of you.'“

“Will do.”

D
ylan came into the kitchen
, a clean shirt in one hand, Reya’s cell phone in the other. He stopped and his gaze swerved to the stove.

“Wow. It smells amazing in here.”

The look of pleasure on his face made her smile as she handed him a glass of water. He must have dried off the sweat because his chest wasn’t glistening like it had been five minutes ago. But she certainly wasn’t disappointed with the view. Twice in one day she’d been treated to the glorious site of Dylan Harper’s muscles. She was pretty sure his muscles had muscles.

“Thanks,” he said and took a long drink. She was momentarily mesmerized by the way his Adam’s apple moved.

“What are we having?” he asked a moment later.

Mentally shaking her head, she pushed away all thoughts of licking him from head to toe to the back of her mind.

“Paella. I learned the recipe in Spain.”

He handed over the phone. “Teo said and I quote 'take care of you.'“

Reya smiled. “He always says that at the end of every call. And I say the same back to him.”

Dylan finished his water and then studied her for a moment. She'd always felt that both men had some weird power to read her mind. If only Dylan could see what she was really thinking...feeling.

Would he be shocked? Delighted?

If his reaction to her lingerie this morning was any indication, he definitely liked what he saw. But was that a lace fantasy or was it
her
? And why did it feel like he'd been avoiding her all day.

She'd offered to make him and Greg a sandwich for lunch but he'd quickly said that they would grab something while they were out. And after they'd finished installing the new sink in the bathroom, he'd disappeared into the backyard for the remainder of the day.

“He's okay, Reya,” he said, drawing her back to the topic of her brother. “You don't need to worry about him. At least not this week.”

Her stomach dropped. “What happens next week?”

He cursed beneath his breath. “Nothing. It's just an expression. Don't worry about him. He can't do his job if he's thinking about you.”

She stared at him, scarcely able to believe her ears. “You try waiting at home and not worry. Have you? Do you have any idea how it is to live my life as if nothing's wrong when the two of you were God knows where, doing who knows wha—”

She was sobbing when he wrapped his arms around her.

He didn't say anything as the tears fell, simply rocked her back and forth. She clung to him, soaking in his strength and scent and let out years’ worth of fear and concern.

She'd said more than she meant to but at least she’d been honest. Every time she'd worried for Teo's life, every time she'd been glued to the TV watching news of wars, combat, death, she'd been praying for Dylan right alongside her brother. She'd worried for both of them.

And now, thank God, Dylan was home at last. Safe. That just left one more.

“He's good at what he does, Reya.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. His arms tightened around her and she nestled closer.

“It's hard.” She closed her eyes, keeping the tears at bay. “Waiting. I know what you did was harder. It doesn't matter if I tell myself not to worry. I always did. I still do.”

“I know.”

Strangely, he sounded like he understood the toll waiting and worrying took on the mind. It occurred to her that even though he hadn't waited at home while he’d worried about his friends; he had waited and worried just as she had.

Worse, perhaps, because he knew details. He'd trained, he'd fought, and he'd watched his friends die. Yes, that had to be so much worse. She was worrying about what she didn't know, and, admittedly, didn't want to know. But he knew.

Dylan would know exactly how bad things could get in a jungle or some
backassward
country in the middle of nowhere where life didn't mean anything.

The new found knowledge made her hug him tighter and ache for him.

“Shh,” he whispered against her hair and resumed rocking her from side to side gently.

The longer she stayed there, the calmer she felt. Her tears stopped, the chaotic thoughts slowed and she swayed back and forth with him. It felt so good, so safe and normal. Almost like they were dancing at the end of a long day.

She'd had just enough wine, on an empty stomach no less, to smile at the thought.

“What made you relax right then?” He ran a hand up and down her spine soothingly.

She told him and he grunted.

“Big, tough Navy SEAL dancing... crazy, I know,” she said.

“Hey, I've got moves,” he said an instant before he stepped back and reached for her hands. His grip was sure, as was his footing. He spun her away from him and then brought her back against his chest.

“Did they teach you that during Hell Week?” she quipped.

“I'm not telling.”

He spun her again and again until she was dizzy and completely off balance. Sagging against him, she laughed. “From sobbing to dancing... you're a master with damsels, Dylan Harper.”

“I do what I can.” He steered her toward the sink and opened the drawer to the right. Pulling out a dish towel, he ran it beneath the water and then reached up, swiping her cheeks.

Incredibly touched by the tender gesture, her breath stalled in her throat.

“Where did you come from?” she murmured, staring up at him.

He focused on his task, not meeting her eyes.

“Better?”

She nodded.

“What's our ETA for dinner?”

She glanced past his broad shoulders at the timer on the stove. “Three. Two. Done.”

“What can I do to help? I was going to take a shower.”

Before she’d fallen apart, he meant.

R
eya glanced
from the skillet on the stove top to the table.

“I think I’ve got everything handled,” she answered. “Table's set.”

She started to move past him but paused.

“Thanks... for letting me cry on you and...everything.”

It was his turn to nod. “Any time.”

After turning off the timer, she stirred the seafood into the rest of the mixture. “And as for the shower, I don't mind a sweaty guy at my table.”

Reya’s smile, as much as her words, were like a kick to the gut. Evocative and domestic all at the same time. They conjured a picture he wasn’t sure she’d meant…one where he laid her out on the table, stripped her naked, and made her scream with pleasure.

And maybe afterward, he’d eat his dinner off of her beautiful body. Reya’s hazelnut skin would make a divine plate.

“Let me get you a refill,” she said, swiping his glass from the counter. “And you go have a seat.”

Glass in her left hand, she shooed him toward the small table with her right. Dinnerware and napkins flanked two plates sitting across from each other.

Dylan couldn't help but track Reya's movements as she flitted around the kitchen. After bringing him a fresh glass of water, she ladled two bowls of paella, humming the whole time.

Heaven help him, but every one of her movements seemed sexual and designed to entice him. She'd always been graceful, but somehow this was more than usual and his cock stood up and took notice.

His stomach growled as she approached. Her smile grew and for some reason, he felt pleased with himself. And eager to make her smile again.

A lock of her dark wavy hair fell down in front of her face as she sat the bowl in front of him. The inky strands reminded him of a ribbon and made him wonder what it’d look like wrapped in his fists. Had she always been so magnetic?

“What?” she asked, almost shyly.

“Nothing. It's just nice to see you. All grown up.”

Dammit, he shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't be thinking about how grown up she was. How she filled out that tank top in all the right places. He kept his eyes from straying, but he'd already memorized every one of Reya’s curves. She had more than her share in the voluptuous department.

“It's good to see you too. But you saw me at Mabel's funeral.”

Three years ago and yet it seemed like yesterday. He bit back a groan, trying not to think of that day. Normally sweet and spicy, that day, she'd been utterly sweet. Dressed in soft layers, she’d looked so beautifully feminine that he'd ached for her.

He’d felt guilty for thinking of her at a time when he should have been mourning the loss of his grandmother. As if sensing the chaos inside of him, she'd reached for his hand as the service began and held it all the way through. That day, in that moment, she'd been completely and utterly submissive. Totally supportive, which had humbled him.

She'd shown him a different side of herself, one he'd always known lurked beneath her mouthy exterior. Admittedly, he'd found it harder than usual to keep from thinking of her, dreaming of her, after he’d left.

But that kiss...

That kiss had changed everything.

“Right,” he said, to fill the silence. He felt like he’d seen
her
for the first time at Mabel’s funeral.

“Hope you like this. It’s an old family recipe from the mother of one of my coworkers.”

“If it tastes half as good as it smells, I’m in for a treat.”

“Good.” She settled into her chair and laid her napkin in her lap. How did she make such a normal action look so prim and proper? But everything from the tilt of her head, the steel in her spine to the movement of her hands combined to turn him on.

“Thanks for this,” he said, nodding toward the food. “TV dinners were getting old.”

“No problem. I love to cook. I don’t normally because…what fun is it to cook for one, right?”

She ate with gusto and he loved that. In fact, he realized a few seconds later, he simply loved to watch her eat. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her lips and she caught him staring.

He jerked his gaze away and picked up his fork.

Get ahold of yourself, Harper. She’s just a woman.

But that was such a lie. She’d never been ‘just a woman.’ She’d always been Teo’s sister. Dylan’s friend. And now… his roommate.

The first bite delighted his taste buds as flavors exploded across his tongue. He was reasonably sure food had never tasted this good. Spicy and complex, with just the right amount of tang.

He moaned.

“Good?” she asked.

“Mmm huh. Marry me now.”

“Deal,” she said with a grin. “As long as you promise to take out the trash.”

“Done.”

“And if you want your boxers to air dry on the clothes line the way Mabel used to do, let’s just say I refuse to step foot in the back jungle… I mean, yard.” She nodded her head toward the back door, mischief in her eyes.

“I’ll take care of it. One of these days, it’ll be fit for a queen.”

“Excellent,” she said and gave a playful nod. Without missing a beat, she asked “So why does the backyard resemble a rain forest?”

He bit back a growl, but was secretly glad she hadn’t made more of his faux proposal.

“The guy I hired to keep the yards up decided he’d rather take my money and not do the work. He kept the front yard okay, but since he knew I was out of state or out of the country, I guess he figured he didn’t need to do the job. That’s three years of neglect.”

“Wow. What an asshole.”

He pursed his lips.

“That’s what I keep telling the neighbors, who are rightly pissed. Who knows why they didn’t call. I gave them my number.”

Reya’d never been a delicate flower, exotic yes, simpering, hell no. So her language didn’t surprise him, it was her next sentence that shocked and pleased him.

“I’ll help you hide his body.”

He laughed, loud and long. It’d been too damn long since he’d laughed. Between losing his grandmother, his career, almost losing his leg…

“I mean, I’m sure you know more about that than me. But I can handle a shovel.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’ll expect me to help you with chores in the backyard.” She gave a playful grimace and then batted her eyelashes at him.

Another laugh rumbled from his chest and he rubbed the wall of muscle over his heart.

“When’d you get to be so funny?”

“Oh, sometime between twenty three and twenty four.”

Smiling, he shook his head. He’d been gone too long, missed too much. Damn, it really was good to be home. Even if home didn’t include Grandma Mabel anymore, Reya did a fine job of making him forget his worries.

Unfortunately, she didn’t make him forget his desires. And she’d always been at the top of that list.

T
he sound
of a demented power tool interrupted Reya's Thursday morning call. Glancing out the back window, she saw nothing but weeds and young trees. The sound grew louder since the old walls provided little buffer.

Picking up her laptop she moved into the living room and continued planning out the day with the guys. The assignment was for a small project, a second round of development, but she gave it her full concentration.

When the call ended, she shot off an email to Grant, one of the owners of the company and asked about the status of the new project she might or might not be managing in Switzerland.

Project managers and developers were spread all over the world and worked remotely. And while she didn't mind that at all, she'd grown to love her time in Spain, especially the community they'd developed during her time there. The structure, the face time, the after-hours camaraderie was something she hadn't realized she'd been missing out on.

She was eager, not only to travel but to gain that kinship again.

Once that email was sent, she searched for her shoes and poked her head out the back door.

The Greek God at the end of the garage wielding a chainsaw was the last thing she'd expected to see. So that's where the racket was coming from. He maneuvered the deadly machine with ease, slicing through the brush, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.

A shorter guy, obviously not related to the God, hauled the remains around the side of the house.

“Everything okay?”

Dylan's voice startled her and she spun to the right. He stood several feet away in a flowerbed. An actual, honest to goodness flowerbed. Except, it was completely empty. It seriously needed some color; maybe a few rows of flowers.

“Um. Yeah. Just seeing what all the noise was about.”

“That's Perseus. He's a friend of Greg's.”

Of course he was. The neighbors could be forgiven for thinking they were running a modeling studio over here.

“The flowerbed looks good.”

He glanced down at the strip of bare dirt surrounding his boots. “Couldn’t save anything.”

He winced.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, fine.” He met her gaze. “Thinking how upset gram would be to lose her rose bushes. And the hostas.”

“You did your part. You hired someone to take care of them. It’s his fault he didn’t keep up his end of the bargain.”

His lips curved up. “You sound like her.”

Which was a true compliment. Mabel had been a sweet, smart lady.

“Thanks.” The chainsaw revved, ending their conversation. “I’m heading out to lunch,” she called.

He nodded and she stood there for a moment longer taking in the sight of him. Tall, strong, shirtless…sweaty. So completely different than the men she worked with, the boys she’d gone to school with.

No wonder she fantasized about him day and night.

She was halfway to the cafe when the call came. Secretly, she’d been expecting it but her heart hadn’t wanted to believe.

Pulling over into the nearest parking lot, she hit the talk button that connected her car’s speaker system with her cellphone.

“Reya, darling, I’m so sorry.” Lola’s voice filled her car and there wasn’t an ounce of apology that Reya could hear.

“Something came up?” Reya squeezed the poor steering wheel in a death grip.

Lola started off on a tirade that would have lasted longer than lunch. Reya’s heart hurt. They’d been friends for almost twenty years. Even during the rough adolescent years when Reya’d been in different foster homes every year or two.

This wasn’t the first time her friend had canceled plans. Reya knew plans changed, things came up, but this wasn’t just life getting in the way of friendship.

Reya had no idea what it was, other than annoying.

This was the third time since she’d returned from Spain that Lola had canceled on her. Three times in a week was a record, even for Lola. And listening to her friend now, she realized it’d be the last. She deserved better. She deserved friends who listened as much as they talked. She deserved to go on fun lunch dates with girlfriends and have them actually show up. Not just show up on time, but actually show up.

Having developed a good head of steam, she cut Lola off. “I’m gonna have to go, Lola. We’ll talk later.”

She hit the end button and doubted that she’d ever hear from her friend again. “Unless she needs something,” she muttered.

Heart bruised, not feeling hungry any more, she debated crying it out right there in the parking lot. But that would be messy. So she held her tears back as she headed to Mabel’s house and let the snark fly.

Hungry, PMSing and thoroughly annoyed was a dangerous combination. She parked at the curb and slammed her door shut. Dylan came around the side of the house before she could make it to the front door.

She’d hoped to make it inside, to the privacy of her room, which was really Mabel’s room, but no luck there.

“Back already?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

“Yeah, because you know, why would a friend of twenty years actually want to have lunch with me?”

She stabbed her key into the lock and gave it a hard twist.

Silently, he followed her inside.

“What happened?” he asked, as she tossed her purse onto the end of the couch and sank down next to it.

“The usual. Lola and I make a date to get lunch, see a movie, whatever and she waits until the last minute to cancel.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “That’s not it. It’s the fact that we’ve made plans to get together three times since I’ve been home from Spain. And all three times she’s canceled. And this isn’t even the third time it’s happened. Over the last year, it’s happened dozens of times.”

“She doesn’t sound like she values your friendship.”

Reya gave an unladylike snort. “I’m starting to think that myself. And the thing is I have no idea what’s going on. She talks and talks but it’s not like she’s taking care of a
bambino
or her grandmother.”

He squatted down in front of her. “People change.”

“You didn’t. You’re still the rock solid guy I’ve known for half my life. And I bet you’d have the balls to tell me you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

His lips twitched and he reached up, wrapping a finger around a lock of her hair. “I'll always want to be friends with you.”

Just friends? The question was like a living breathing beast, but she didn't let it out of the cage.

“Thanks.” She sent him a smile while trying to control her need to shout and/or cry. Neither would be pretty so she took a deep breath and focused on his eyes...and the fact that he hadn't released his grip on her hair.

“I can't speak from experience but maybe you should focus on your other friends.”

He made it sound easy, as if Lola didn't know her life story. But he was right, people did change. Lola had changed and if she didn't have time for Reya, why was Reya always making time for her? Especially when she did have other friends she should be hanging out with. Especially when the timing was finally right for her and Dylan. Well, right for seduction.

“That's pretty good advice.”

“Good. Now about these other friends—”

She cut him off with a kiss. Unlike three years ago, she made the first move this time. Closing the distance between them, she slanted her lips against his, held a firm pressure and almost grinned when he groaned.

The hand toying with her hair slid deeper and his lips moved against hers with panty-melting purpose. She moved her hands to his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her. He tightened his grip in her hair and the sensation made her breathless, made her lips part on a sigh.

Dylan took immediate advantage, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. As kisses went, she liked the way the French did it the best, and right now, she was pretty sure Dylan Harper was as French as he could get. Hot, wet and masterful, he moved in and out of her mouth, tracing and teasing.

She dueled with him, letting her tongue dance against his, mating so thoroughly, she didn't hear the knock at the back door until he leaned away. His hands slid from her hair and dropped to his thighs, but when she started to topple forward, they shot up and steadied her.

Blinking and out of breath, she mentally shook her head. What had just happened? How long had they been going at it like love sick teenagers? Did she look as thoroughly bemused as he did?

“I'd better see what he needs,” he said, standing.

She leaned against the arm rest and nodded. Part of her wanted to call him back and say
who cares what Perseus needs? The yard can wait. I need you. I've needed you for years.

Okay, all of her wanted to call him back, but she didn't. Instead, she sat there and held her fingertips to her lips, reliving that kiss.