SEAL's Baby (Navy SEAL Secret Baby Romance) (43 page)

Shit
.
“Okay.” I stopped talking and poured everything I had into it. I even blocked
out the fact that she was watching me with those incredibly sexy green eyes. It
took me a good fifteen minutes, but I did it! I looked up at Amber. She was
clapping. I was cocky enough to try and take a bow and nearly fell on my face.
She caught me, and I suddenly found myself with the most beautiful creature on
earth in my arms. I lost my mind a little bit – I couldn’t help it. I brought
my lips down and I kissed her. She didn’t move and if I had to swear to it in a
court of law, she kissed me back. Then, she pulled her head away and gave me
one of those looks Sarah reserves for when I’ve done something bad. I just
grinned. I kissed her.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

AMBER

I stood in front of the mirror and
wondered what the hell I was doing. I moved out of Dylan’s house less than a
week ago. Kyle is a patient and no matter what we called this, it was a date. I
fidgeted with the bracelets on my wrists. I’d put foundation over the yellowing
bruises there and the bracelets were thick enough that I was hoping they’ll
keep them covered. It’s eighty degrees out, so I thought I might look a little
stupid sweating at Abacus in long sleeves.

“Amber?” Marlene was tapping on my door.
She’d sat up with me late last night as I agonized over whether or not I should
do this.

“Yeah, come in.”

She stepped in and sucked in a sharp
breath. “Oh, honey, you look gorgeous.”

“Thank you. I’m a nervous wreck.”

“Why? You said he’s a really nice guy,
right?”

“Yeah, but it’s so soon…”

“Are you kidding? That so-called
‘relationship’ you were in with the cowboy was over a long time ago. He fell in
love with a whiskey bottle and nobody will ever come before that. You deserve
so much more.”

I smiled. I wasn’t sure why I should
deserve more, but it was a nice thought. “Well, here goes then. This is the
first date I’ve been on without Dylan since I was fifteen years old.”

“Good. Go and see what it’s supposed to be
like.” She kissed my cheek, and I grabbed my bag and headed out. I told Kyle
I’d pick him up at seven. He offered to drive and I laughed. I did hope he was
kidding. I put his address in my GPS. He lived on a quiet little residential
street at the end of a cul de sac. It looked homey and inviting, with a neat
and tidy front lawn. With butterflies taking flight in my stomach, I knocked on
the door. It was pulled inward by the big man I’d seen at the hospital. His
dad, I presumed.

“Hi, is Kyle here?” I felt like a
teenager. He smiled…I think.

“Yes, come in.” He closed the door behind
me and said, “Have a seat, he’ll be right out.” I thanked him as he disappeared
down the hallway.

I sat down in the comfortable little
living room and thought about running away – right up until I saw the most
beautiful sight I may have ever seen. Kyle came out of the bedroom in his
chair. He had on a brown silk shirt and a nice pair of tan slacks. He was
wearing brown cowboy boots and for the first time since the hospital, he wasn’t
wearing a ball cap.

“Hi,” he said with that smile that sets my
insides on fire.

“Hi. Wow…you look…”

“I’m the one with the speech problems.”

I laughed. “Not tonight, apparently. You
look amazing.”

He looked down at himself and said, “I
kind of thought I did – until you got here. You’re beautiful, Amber.” I felt my
face go hot. I couldn’t remember the last time a man told me I was beautiful –
except for my father, but that doesn’t count. Marlene talked me into buying
this little black dress and she loaned me a pair of heels that I wasn’t sure
I’d be able to walk in. I’m glad now that she did.

“Thank you. Are you ready?”

“Yep.” He easily maneuvered himself out
the front door and down the sidewalk to the car. “If you open the trunk, I’ll
put the chair in-”

“Get in the car.”

“I don’t want you lifting the chair.” His
speech was still slow, but it was getting a lot clearer. I was really proud of
the progress he’s making, but I was sorry he wasted all of those words.

I laughed. “I’m a therapist. I do it all
day. Get in the car.”

“You’re kind of bossy,” he said with a
grin.

“Yep,” I said, borrowing his favorite
word.

On the way to the restaurant, he asked me
questions about my family and growing up on the ranch. Even with his speech
impediment, he was a much better conversationalist than Dylan. When we drove up
in front of the restaurant I asked,

“Have you eaten here before?”

“Only once,” he said. “For Sarah’s
birthday a few years back. My dad hated it.” He laughed.

“I’ve never been inside. I almost feel
like I should have rented a nicer car.”

“Stop,” he said, laughing. “The night we
came, I was out on a job. I drove the contractor’s pick-up and had the valet
park it.”

“You did not!”

He laughed again. “I did. It was the best
part of the night.”

I got out and started to get his chair out
of the trunk. The valet was suddenly at my elbow to get it for me. He took it
around and Kyle transferred himself into it smoothly. Once we were inside, we
were shown to our table, which was in a nice roomy spot. He transferred out of
his chair and into the seat and the hostess took the chair away. He seemed a
lot more comfortable without it. The waiter brought out the wine menu, and Kyle
asked me what I wanted.

“I don’t really drink,” I told him.

“Okay, how about sweet tea?”

It was refreshing to be able to say that
out loud and not be ridiculed. Dylan always gave me a hard time about it. “I’d
love sweet tea, thank you.” We ordered a six course tasting menu and as we
plowed our way through the delicious food, we got to know each other a little
better. “Have you always wanted to be an architect?”

“Not really. I like to draw…I have…sorry,
I always have.”

“So, when did you decide on architecture?”

“Michael and my sister have been together
since she was sixteen. He was already in college…he got me interested.”

“And now, you work for him.”

“Right. What about you?”

“No, I never wanted to be an architect.”

He grinned. “When did you want to be a
therapist?”

“When I was in high school, my best friend
and I were supposed to go out one Saturday night. It just happened that I got
the flu and I couldn’t go. She was driving home from a party and she had
another one of our friends with her. She was drunk and ran a stoplight. They
were t-boned and the girl in the passenger seat died. My friend was thrown from
the car and had a head injury. When she woke up from her three week long coma,
she had to have therapy every day. I used to go visit her all the time and it
fascinated me to watch what they did for her.”

“Wow…you dodged a bullet.”

“Yeah. It’s weird because I always felt
guilty about that. I went to Bobbie’s funeral, and I kept thinking it should
have been me. I would have been in that seat, and I would have been just as
drunk as both of them.”

“Is that why you don’t drink?”

“Mostly, yes. So, can I ask you a personal
question?”

“Of course.”

“Greg…what’s the deal there? He says he’s
your best friend, but it doesn’t seem that way sometimes…”

 
“Hard one,” he said.

“Oh, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s just a long story. Hard for you
to understand me.”

“Well, you don’t have to talk about it-”

“It’s fine…bear with me though.” I liked listening
to him talk, even though he was self-conscious about it. He took a deep breath
and said, “I met Greg in the second grade. We became buddies right away. From
that point on, we did everything together. He stayed at my house, and I stayed
at his. In college, I met this girl and fell in love with her. I’d always been
kind of a serial dater, so the love thing kind of took me by surprise. We dated
for a couple years and I proposed. She accepted, and I asked Greg to be my best
man.

“One night, we were all at this party and
I was the only sober one because I was driving. I looked everywhere and I
couldn’t find them. There was this girl there that for whatever reason, she
hated my girl. She told me to check the shed in the backyard. I doubted they
would be in there, but I’d checked everywhere else. They were in there and they
were…pardon my French, screwing their drunken brains out.”

“Oh no!”

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was bad. For the first
time in my life, I beat the snot out of someone and it was my best friend. I
told both of them I never wanted to see them again. I would run into Greg
sometimes, but avoided him for the most part. He weaseled his way back in
through Sarah when he found out I was sick.”

“Sarah…hmm…”

He laughed. “Hard to believe my sister
could be the forgiving one, right?”

“Well, not that I wouldn’t think she could
forgive anyone, it’s hard to believe she would forgive anyone that hurt you.
She’s really protective of you.”

“Yeah, she forgets she’s not my mother.”

By the time we finished our meal, had
dessert, and walked out of the restaurant, it was after ten o’clock. I didn’t
want the night to end and Kyle acted like he didn’t, either. When the valet
brought the car around he said, “Do you want to see my place?”

“I didn’t see it earlier?”

He smiled. “That’s Dad’s place. I have a
loft not very far from here. I’ve just been staying with Dad since I got sick.”

Alone in a loft with Kyle. It was a
terrible idea. “Sure, okay.”
I’m
ridiculous
.
 

CHAPTER
NINE

KYLE

Do you want to see my place? I can’t
believe that worked. I was just desperate for the night to go on and I couldn’t
think of anything else. It’s not like I can take her on a long walk in the
moonlight…or horseback riding…or other things that “normal” people do. She
seemed okay with it, though.
God, she's
beautiful
.

“It’s the building there on the left.” She
looked at me like I was crazy and then thinking it was the brain surgery she
said,

“Um…no, that’s the JC Penney/Sears
building.”

“Well, technically, it was built in 1913,
but it wasn’t used for JC Penny and Sears until much later. First, it was
strictly office space and then A. Harris & Co. moved into it in the 1930s.
After that came Penny’s and Sears. Now, it houses a few apartments and lofts. One
of which, I live in.”

Her mouth was hanging open. “Really?”

I laughed. “Really. Is it my humble
background that is confusing to you?”

“No…I
mean…isn’t it really expensive? Shoot, I shouldn’t have asked you that…”

“It’s
okay, really. The answer is yes, but not for me. The man that owns the loft I
live in is a

client of Michael’s. He bought it for his
daughter and she ran off to Italy with some rich guy. He rented it to me.
Cheap.”

“You’re so lucky!” she said. “I love this
building.”

“I
do, too,” I admitted, “And yes, I am lucky.”

I held her hand as we went through the
lobby. I liked the sound of her sexy high heels on the hardwood floors as we
made our way to the elevators. We took it all the way to the top and I realized
I missed my home as soon as we stepped off. “You know what; I think I’ll have
you leave me here tonight. I miss my home.”

She
smiled. “I haven’t seen the inside of the loft yet and I already love it.”

“You can stay here, too,” I told her with
a wink. I unlocked the door and flipped on the light. She literally gasped.

“Oh my goodness, I just might stay
forever!” She looked around at the hardwood flooring and the brick work,
running her hand across the smooth wood of the built-in bookcases along the
wall. The ducts overhead were all exposed, too…that was one of my favorite
parts. My other favorite part is the big windows that look out across downtown.
At night when the city is lit up, it’s gorgeous. “This is exactly where an
architect should live,” she said.

“I’m glad you like it.” She almost literally
ran to the window and looked out.

“Oh, Kyle…it’s just incredible.”

I thought she was incredible. She was this
perfectly professional woman one minute and the next she had this child-like
wonder in her eyes as she looked out on the city at night. “Do you want some
coffee or…something?”

“I’m good right now,” she said. “Can I see
the rest of the place?”

I held my right arm out and said, “That’s
the kitchen.” It consisted of a stove, refrigerator, and a stackable washer and
dryer. The cabinets were open and cut into the brick. When I first moved in
here, Sarah and I found some old 1930s kitchen prints at a flea market and I
hung them in there. “This is the living room, and the bedroom is over there.”