Chapter 2
RYAN
The woman swigs her beer as if she’s wandered through the desert. She wears a ring on her middle finger, which she twists with her thumb. It’s the only tell I can see that shows she’s nervous.
There’s usually only one reason a woman on her own would come to a bar like this, but from the way she turned down two male advances, either she’s extremely picky, or she’s naive.
“What’s your name?”
“Rose.” Her eyes dart to the side, and she presses her lips together. Another tell. If Rose is her real name, then I’m the pope.
And if she’s going by a fake name, then she’s the former. She’s picky, and she can afford to be. With her pixie cut hair and high full cheekbones, “Rose” is gorgeous.
I sip my beer, giving her an opportunity to ask for my name, but she doesn’t. So I ask, “What are you in town for?”
She turns her head slowly. “How do you know I don’t live here?”
I lean on the bar and turn a coaster over in my hand. “Because if you did, you’d know this isn’t the kind of bar women come to on their own.”
“You seem to know a lot about the women who come to this bar.” Even as she tilts her head to the side, pinning me with a sharp gaze, I can’t help but admire her beauty and appreciate her refusal to be cowed.
I get the feeling “Rose” doesn’t miss anything.
She’s clearly smart, but her pretty eyes carry sadness in them.
I spin the coaster in my hand. “I was based here for a while.” I’m not going to tell her I’m special forces. Better to let her think I’m just another soldier.
She angles her body toward mine, and I catch a scent of her perfume, sweet and musky and so feminine. It’s been a long time since I was this close to a woman.
“But you’re not based here now?”
I pause, taking a sip of my beer. My years as a SEAL have ingrained a deep need not to divulge the truth. Not about my unit, not about what I do, and not about why I’ve been back on US soil for the past four weeks.
“I fly out in two days.”
I watch her as I respond. I’m letting her know that whatever happens between us, I’ll be gone in two days.
She maintains eye contact. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” Her words carry the same hidden meaning. If we’re going to hook up, it’s for one night only.
My pulse ticks up a notch. It’s been far too long since I hooked up with a woman. But it’s not like there hasn’t been an opportunity. They just weren’t Rose.
“You want to get out of here and grab something to eat?”
She leans in closer, and her earring dangles just above her throat, drawing my attention to the smooth curve of her neck, which is begging to be kissed. She swallows hard, and her ring taps against her beer bottle.
“I have a hotel down the street. Do you want to come back and order room service?”
I raise my eyebrows and smile, surprised by her boldness. “Are you picking me up?”
She nods once, and a nervous giggle escapes her lips. “I guess I am.”
Sitting back on my stool, I regard her carefully. Her gaze is cool and confident, but her thumb worries her ring. My guess is she doesn’t pick up strangers at bars often. But for whatever reason, tonight she wants company.
“You don’t even know my name.”
She tilts her head and keeps her gaze on me. “What should I call you?”
I note she didn’t ask me my name. She doesn’t want to know. If we’re going to do this, then she wants to keep it incognito.
“Call me Sergeant Gray.”
Her eyebrows raise. “All right, Sergeant.”
The word on her lips sends a bolt of heat through my body, and I feel myself lengthen. Another reminder that it’s been too long since I’ve been with a woman.
I glance around at the bar, seeing the men swaying on the dance floor and the group by the pool table doing another round of shots. If I turn her down, will she end up with one of these drunks who’ll likely be too wasted to give her what she needs?
Besides, I like Rose; she’s attractive, and there’s a connection between us. A strong one, which surprises me. Maybe it’s what I need, too—to forget the last few weeks for a while. To lose myself in somebody.
But I want to get to know her first and give her the opportunity to make a different choice if this isn’t what she wants.
“There’s a pizza place down the road. Let’s get food there.”
Something flashes across her face, and I can’t tell if it’s relief or disappointment. She glances down quickly before sliding off her bar stool.
I take her coat from where it’s dropped over the back of the stool and hold it out for her.
She glances over her shoulder at me before slipping it over her bare shoulders. “Thank you.”