Rescued (Navy SEALS Romance Book 1) (5 page)

T
he elevator bumped
down like a bad touchdown of a passenger jet. They hadn't spoken for six floors, nor been interrupted by anyone else joining them in the elevator.

"It's been nice seeing you again," Taylor said, lying. It wasn't nice. It was – frustrating. She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from falling back into
thank you for saving my life
mode.

Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would judder right out of her chest. She was breathless and woozy and a little nauseated.

Everything inside her wanted to go on feeling that way. Those first crazy signs of attraction were rare and precious and made every day last forever when he wasn't there and zip by when he – whoever he was in that instance – was.

This one, though? He still wasn't asking her anything. He was still letting her walk away. Hell, he could be married. Or gay. Maybe Jason had a shot. Or married to his job.

Or just not interested.

That thought made her old life flare up. The one where her life flashed in front of her eyes in the middle of a fire and bored her.

"Do you come here often?" she asked without giving herself time to think, then winced hard enough he had to notice. Had she really just said that aloud? Must've because he was looking at her curiously. "I mean, maybe I'll see you around. Here. Maybe I'll see you
here
again." She made a gesture that seemed to encompass just the elevator, which neither of them had exited yet. Right, because no doubt when not rescuing stranded hikers, Tanner Davis spent a lot of time hanging out in decrepit medical buildings.

She winced again. Medical buildings. Maybe he didn't
want
to discuss why he was in a medical building. Some people were intensely private about things like that.

The blush was about to make her break out in a sweat. That would make her curly blond hair start straggling and sticking to her face. She opened her mouth, apparently intent on making this worse, forced it closed again, raised her hand in an inane wave considering they were only a foot or so apart and she could easily have jabbed him mid-wave, and tried to leave the elevator.

The steel doors promptly slid shut. She managed to bump into them. In their spotlessly clean and shined surfaces she could see he was grinning.

Shit.

She started to reach for the
door open
button when the elevator lurched into motion and started back up.

"Hey!"

Which was when she noticed his arm had snaked around her and hit the button for the top floor. She looked for a long time at the now-lit button, then up at him. "Um?"

Tanner leaned against the back wall of the elevator, arms folded over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, looking like a centerfold (albeit clothed) for a hot search and rescue guys calendar. The lazy look in the pale blue eyes made her want to act inappropriately in the elevator where undoubtedly there was a camera. Even in an old building like this, surely the owners wanted to avoid lawsuits should anything happen in their elevators like when that rap star or football player or whoever it was punched his girlfriend.

"Do you think there are cameras in this elevator?" she asked, forgetting to keep her incisors firmly planted in her tongue.

Tanner's eyebrows went up and he blinked several times. "Uh, hard to say. I'm not really – versed, I guess, in elevator." Then he studied her like she was a talking cactus.

Taylor shut her eyes and took a breath. "I just – wondered," she said lamely, realizing that
Thought about launching myself into your arms and wondered if that would end up on tape
wasn't any better than suddenly asking about cameras.

"Listen, I – " she started, and was grateful when he interrupted with "I'm really bad at this, but would you like to go out sometime?"

Her racing heart stopped. Not just racing. It stopped beating, completely. If they were ever going to have a date, he needed to know CPR. He said he was bad at it but what he'd just done was the perfect way to ask her.

Taylor leaned against her side of the elevator car, striving for relaxed in the seconds before the car would reach the tenth floor. She smiled. It felt like the wrong size smile. On the wrong sized face. When was the last time a guy had made her this nervous? "I'd really like that." The blush deepened.

He nodded as if she had just presented a scientific theory he was now turning over in his mind. "Me, too." As if he hadn't been the one to ask. "I'll call you."

She gave him a great big sunny smile. "Great!" And then, even though they'd both been going down (and why had he been on the elevator already when they'd started at the same floor? But she wasn't going to wonder that, just be happy about it) she got out on the 10
^th
floor.

Even though she didn't need to be there. And he'd been the one to push the button. If she stayed, she had to ride all the way down with him and she'd spontaneously combust from a lethal combination of lust and embarrassment.

"Great!" she said
again
and waved.
Again.

The door started to slide shut.

"Wait!" she said, and jammed her hand between the doors.

"Wait!" he said from his side, and jammed his fist between the doors.

They stared at each other from either side of the elevator.

"I don't have any way to contact you," he said.

"You don't have my number," she said.

He reached a hand toward her, like he meant to entreaty the contact information or stop the door again or something, she didn't know what, and she took it.

This time she was thinking.

She wrapped her fingers around his and held on.

He used her hand to pull her back into the elevator. The doors closed and the elevator didn't move.

Still holding her hand with his left, he reached up his right hand and cupped her cheek, brushed some of her hair away from her face and leaned down, his eyes watching hers until he was so close she shut her eyes instinctively.

His mouth on hers was hot, tasted of cinnamon and mint, and just the littlest touch of beard stubble grazed her lower lip as he kissed her, soft as a caress at first, then harder until he took her mouth, covered it with his own, and she reached her arms up, around his neck, holding on like he was still rescuing her, pulling her from the wildfire that now burned inside her. The elevator started working again and he stumbled back a step, pulling her with him so her body pressed up against his, Taylor feeling the rock hard abs, the thick muscle of his chest, the warmth of the hand against her face, the heat of his mouth as he parted her lips, just a little, his tongue seeking hers.

She molded herself to him, not caring where they were or who could see them or why the elevator had just gone back down to what felt like the first floor. She kissed him hard, no doubt this time she was kissing him back, she felt his mouth in her toes, throughout all the nerves that made her back muscles feel electric, made her fingers curl into each other where her hands linked behind his neck.

A distant voice said, "I'll take the next one," sounding as if the speaker were laughing.

The doors closed. One of Tanner's hands went away from her back where it had been holding her, leaving her feeling cold and bereft, and she felt the elevator jerk in compliance with his order, ascending again, and she laughed into the kiss, feeling warm and happy, sexy and definitely rescued.

The doors opened on the 10
^th
floor. They both turned, Tanner leaning against the wall of the lift, Taylor leaning into him, and looked into the empty medical building hallway.

"Doesn't this thing go any higher?" Tanner asked.

Taylor said, "The building doesn't, so probably best."

"No need to be logical," he said, and kissed her again, this time softly, with a finality that said he was planning to be well behaved for the trip back down.

Taylor didn't approve, but she stepped back and adjusted her shirt, which had ridden up. There wasn't much she could do for her curls and she could feel they were out of control. She ran her hands through her hair and hoped for the best.

The elevator touched down. All Tanner had to do with that nearly buzz-cut black hair and t-shirt and jeans was tug the t-shirt a little smoother. The doors slid open. There was an impatient, harried looking woman standing with two boys. When she saw them, she grinned, winked at Taylor, and stepped into the car. Taylor and Tanner stepped out and watched as the doors closed and the elevator ascended.

"There's more than one elevator in this place," Tanner said, looking around. There were three in the alcove they'd been deposited in.

Taylor blushed again. Damned Nordic coloring. "I believe she was waiting to see what happened when the elevator came back again."

He nodded thoughtfully. "She had children younger than eighteen with her. R rating. Kind of a risk."

Taylor sputtered laughter. "Let me give you my cell number. You can text me." Did that sound too pushy? Oh, fuck it, nothing had been normal about this yet.

He nodded, entered her info, gave her his, then said, "In light of how bad I am at this, would it be out of line to just ask you out for tonight?"

"You're better at it than you think," she said, and licked her lips. She could still taste him. "It's Monday."

He nodded. "And the significance of that is?"

"Non traditional day for dates?" she suggested. Because she didn't want to go out with him? What was wrong with her? Other than wanting to seem cool and kind of whatever blasé.

"And so far our contacts have been so traditional," he said deadpan, echoing her thoughts. "I could text you."

"From right here?" Because that sounded like what he was suggesting.

Tanner pulled his phone out as they walked toward the shining glass doors leading to the parking lot. Sun glared blindingly into the building where the polished floors on the first floor were mirror smooth. "Sure. That's traditional."

"I could make you dinner," she said. She'd been planning to make dinner for Jessie, and had some beautiful halibut that shouldn't sit for too long. In her experience, even refrigerated it took very little time before halibut became something Monster would like to roll in.

"Not traditional." And just as she thought he might be carrying that too far he said, "So let me take you out. You might find after one date you'd rather feed me to something than feed me. Besides, I rescued you. That means I'm responsible for you." He opened the doors for her and she stepped out into the warmth of the summer's day.

Just his words, teasing and silly, made her flush with pleasure. Warding off more incoherence, she said, "And you're responsible for the Monster." When he tilted his head, narrowing those beautiful blue eyes, she added, "My lab? Big black nose, tail that destroys things?" And then felt stupider than ever. She needed to get out of there. Head off to work. She'd told them she had a doctor's appointment and since Boring World cared more about billable client hours than strict 9 to 5, that should be OK. But work was preferable to continuing to make a fool of herself.

Because by tonight you'll be all suave and stuff.

That was the hope.

"Gotta run," she said. "It was nice running into you." She gave "running into" a little emphasis and got a smile in return. He held up his phone, presumably meaning he'd text her, and Taylor threw herself into her car and escaped.

S
he stopped two buildings over
, hopefully hidden in the crowded parking lot so Tanner wouldn't drive by and see her being all seventh grade about things, and from there she called Jessie, who was already at work at her own version of Boring World.

"You have got to help me, I have to be suave and sane by tonight, and I can't cook you dinner after all," she said. Pretty much all one word.

"Good morning to you, too, and sure, who doesn't want to help the friend who is no longer feeding one?"

"You don't even like halibut."

"That's what you were making? Cool. I'll help. Where are you going and what help do you need and by 'sane' and 'by tonight,' are you
kidding
?"

"No. Not kidding. Search and rescue guy from Saturday. In elevator. In medical building. I ended up talking like I'm completely crazy. Date tonight. Have to chill. I have
got
to chill. Help me!"

They'd been friends since high school. Jessie dissected the incoherent request and started asking questions like someone doing a threat assessment. "The pilot? Hon, there is no way to chill if you're going out with him, he is rock god status. OK, and what do you mean, tonight? It's Monday."

"Check. He knows that. Doesn't care."

"Where are you going tonight?"

"Don't know."

"Good, I can see we're starting with top notch information. So you don't know what to wear."

Taylor made a sound of abject despair.

"Sorry," Jessie said. "Clearly I'm not helping. What do you mean, medical building? Why were you in a medical building? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. I was volunteering."

Jessie's silence meant she was deciding whether to pursue that or leave it for another time. What she came up with was, "With him?"

"What?"

"Were you volunteering with him? Meaning you're going to be search and rescue now?"

"Why would I go to a medical building to do that?"

"Just searching for a thread. OK, you were in a medical building because?"

So Taylor told her, climbing out of her car midway through to stand in the sun. Monday morning drive time had ended. She'd have an easy drive to work. Jessie talked her through possible dates, warned her not to talk about the dog all night, suggested outfits and that Taylor might want to at least ask where they were going before he arrived, partly because that was a logical sane person thing to do and would give her direction on how to dress. And partly because no matter how hot he was, single girls asked where they were going and left word with the friend they were no longer cooking halibut for. And finally she said she had to get off the phone, because her boss was going to wonder if she didn't come out of the bathroom soon, so good luck and try not to talk much.