Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Natasha pulled her gaze from the outside terrace where the gorgeous SEAL had disappeared with another man who had Teamguy written all over him.
Did I really almost break my “no sex with a stranger” rule?
Wyatt probably wouldn’t come back. There was something in his friend’s eyes that gave off the “you’re about to spin up” vibe. And she wasn’t going to stand in the way of a man and a mission. She lived and breathed the life.
But maybe she’d dodged a bullet? That man could probably turn her heart to dust in the palm of his very large and rough hand.
Normally, she wasn’t one to fall fast. She erred on the side of caution these days when it came to men.
Which might have something to do with her fiancé walking out on their wedding day, leaving her standing in her wedding dress like a sad cake topper missing the groom.
But there was something about Wyatt. She’d been instantly drawn to him, and his kiss had been earth-shatteringly amazing.
She returned her focus to her handsome friend, Jack London.
Jack had moved to Dallas when she was seven and became best friends with her brother, but she’d always loved that he’d never treated her like Gray’s annoying little sister, even though she liked to tag along wherever they went.
Building forts in the woods and having Nerf gun battles had always been preferable to her over Barbies.
Jack stood before her with an amber-colored drink in hand. Most likely the same as what Wyatt had been drinking. A whiskey neat—free of anything mixed with it.
“I know we’re all friends with Dale, and it’s been almost three years since you split, but part of me wants to break his legs for what he did to you.”
She smirked at his comment. But . . . the breakup wound up being the push she needed to finally apply to her current job. So, some good had come from being jilted at the altar, she supposed.
And thinking about her line of work right now had a spark of guilt warming her cheeks. Two years in hadn’t made lying about working for the CIA any easier, especially not to a man like Wyatt.
“I’m just surprised you’re handling this so well.” Jack’s attention moved to the happy new couple, Clara and Dale. “Marines,” he grumbled.
Jack had nothing but love for his Semper Fi brothers in arms, but the guys from other branches loved to poke at each other any chance they got.
Natasha’s father never let her brother live down the fact he’d chosen the Army instead of the Navy, choosing not to follow in his footsteps.
“I’m fine,” she said, hoping to dismiss the topic.
When his hand went to his chest, and his gold band caught her eye, it was a reminder she hadn’t seen his wife at the reception.
“Where’s Jill?” And yes, they were “Jack and Jill,” and their friends never let them live that down.
Fortunately, Jack was more of a fun and laughable guy than a broody and pensive one, so he had quips prepared for every instance of heckling.
“Jill said she wasn’t feeling great. She went back to the hotel room after the ceremony.” He gulped back the rest of his drink and lowered the tumbler to the bar top. She knew there was more to it than that. It was her job to pay attention to details after all.
Jack lifted his gaze to hers when she placed a hand on his forearm.
“We may have gotten into a fight.”
“I thought the only thing you two fought about was how much your life was consumed by the Army. What’s there to argue about now that you’ve resigned your commission?”
He turned on his heel and went to the main bar. Natasha considered that code for Let’s not talk about Jill, so once she caught up with him, she chose to follow the silent request to drop it.
They ordered another round of drinks, and her brother, Gray, made his way over, clutching his leg to assist with his movements, which usually only happened when he was overtired or drank too much.
Grayson, who she called Gray, joined in on their conversation, diving right in about which Rocky movie was the best. “‘If he dies, he dies,’” he cast his vote, reciting a line from the movie. “Gotta go with Four.”
“Agreed.” Jack toasted with him.
“But—”
“Nope, that’s the final answer,” Gray cut her off and slung his arm around her shoulders.
“Uh, I can’t even with you two. Add Dale to the mix, and you’re practically the Three Stooges.”
At the mention of Dale, Gray leaned in and asked in a not-so-subtle voice, “You doing okay, Sis?”
And that was code for—Do you want me to kill Dale? Speak now or forever hold your peace.
There had been a bit of a scuffle following the runaway groom situation. Gray had hunted Dale down, but he’d wound up forgiving his friend, deciding, like her father, Dale wasn’t the right man for her.
“Where’s Jill?” Gray snatched the olive out of her freshly made martini, and she whacked him in the side for such thievery.
“Don’t ask,” she warned.
Jack tossed back another whiskey like he was in a drinking competition. Yeah, that couldn’t be good.
“Who was that guy you were talking to outside?” Gray swung his arm free of her shoulders and ordered his own drink.
“He’s just someone.”
He exchanged a look with Jack. “Like a someone I need to hunt down and give the third degree?”
She rolled her eyes and playfully swatted her brother’s chest. “Not any of your business.” And he probably won’t be back. Her desire to have sex with Wyatt had definitely trumped her need to prevent the oh-shit moment that would inevitably follow due to breaking her “no sex with a stranger” rule.
Maybe if she was still feeling adventurous tomorrow, she’d call him.
She needed his last name to look up his digits, though.
There had to be someone there that knew the sailor.
Well, someone other than the bride and her parents.
Shit. There were no doubt a lot of someones who may have been in attendance at Wyatt and Clara’s wedding.
And now she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of ceremony and reception they’d had. She knew virtually nothing about the man, but she doubted it’d been similar to this Boho chic vibe.
“I know that look,” Jack announced after he’d ordered yet another round. These boys were going to get themselves into some trouble if they didn’t slow it down. Basically—the norm for them. “You like this mystery man?”
“He’s a Teamguy.” Maybe she shouldn’t have disclosed that information, but she trusted her brother and Jack.
Gray grunted. “Enough said.”
“You do have two former SEALs on your payroll.” She did a mental eye roll, chastising herself for continuing to babble. She’d been trying to get Gray off her back, not justify the stars in her eyes for Wyatt.
“And I give them hell for it every damn day,” Gray said.
“Cheers to that, brother.” Jack clinked his glass to Gray’s.
“You two.” She flipped her eyes to the ceiling, memories of the empty banquet hall at her own wedding invading her thoughts.
The chairs had been covered in a baby blue satin. The centerpieces full of lilies.
Lilies are for funerals, anyway, right? It was never meant to be, love, her friend Alexa had said to her. Alexa worked for MI6 and was all work and no play, and if Natasha didn’t slow down soon, she’d wind up on the same path.
Natasha had been going strong in her job since 2011, not yet hardened by the evils of the world. Not yet jaded. She’d been warned it would happen eventually, but she’d do her best not to lose herself in her work, not to become numb.
She wanted to feel every loss. Remember every win, too. To always be her best and never give up.
Staying forever single would keep her heart guarded, but in doing so would she transform into the kind of officer she didn’t want to be, so driven by the chase, the hunt, that she missed out on everything else in life?
Her focus moved back to the happy couple now sharing another dance at the center of the floor. Clara had once been Wyatt’s other half. He’d had his lips on her. His hands. And for that reason, ridiculous as it may be, she felt a stab of jealousy. Because she now knew what Wyatt’s touch was like.
But she felt nothing, no twinge of jealousy or regret, as she watched Dale and Clara together.
What was it about Wyatt?
If he didn’t come back—maybe, just maybe—she’d do it . . . she’d ask for his full name, and she’d Google the hell out of that man and find him. Finish where they left off on the beach.
“Is the sailor the reason for that smile on your face?” Gray jabbed her in the ribs with his index finger.
Yes, she wanted to blurt. “Could you do me a favor?” she asked instead. “Could you get his last name from Clara?”
“And does your SEAL know her?”
This would be the hard part. “He’s her ex-husband.”
Jack’s brows shot up in surprise.
Gray blinked twice as if he couldn’t have possibly heard her right. “You’re serious. Her ex came to the wedding?”
She pointed at her chest. “I’m here. Why is it such a shocker that he showed up?”
“If you really want to know the sailor’s name, Lady Macbeth”—a name Gray just looooved to call her since she’d played the role in the high school play, and he knew it pushed her buttons the way all good brotherly nicknames were meant to—“you’ll need to ask Clara yourself.”
Fine.
She could do it.
No problem.
Well, maybe . . .