Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Storm parked his car and eagerly climbed out and headed for the lobby of Jane’s apartment.
He’d been glad to see for himself that all of the SEALs on his team were alive and well when they’d arrived back into the country.
He’d just spent two hours in a debrief meeting with them and was now clear to enjoy his forty-eight hours of leave.
He’d offered to cook for Jane, but she’d declined, saying there was no way she was going to make him cook after working late into the evening.
It was now seven-thirty, and he’d been at the office for over twelve hours. Storm was more than ready for a break. He walked down the hall to Jane’s apartment and knocked on the door. It took a few seconds, but then she was there, smiling and welcoming him into her home.
“You look tired,” she blurted, then wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, that was rude. Come in.”
Storm didn’t take offense. “I am tired,” he told her.
“Your guys are all right, though?”
He liked that she asked about them. “They are. The mission was tough, but they’re all back relatively unharmed.”
“Ugh, I hate that,” she said, more to herself than him. “I mean, I’m glad they’re home, but ‘relatively unharmed’ can have so much hidden meaning to it. It could mean they’ve all got bullet holes in them, but are still walking and talking, or it could mean they’ve got a few little bruises.”
Storm chuckled, and when she turned to face him after closing and locking her front door, he pulled her into him. She let out a small oof of surprise but recovered quickly. Her hands rested on his chest, and he could smell that she’d showered recently.
“Storm?” she asked.
“Sorry,” he told her. “The guys are all right. One got shot, but it was only a graze. The mission went a little sideways, but they got done what needed to be done.” Storm knew he was being vague, but he couldn’t talk about where his team had been or what they’d been doing.
He tensed, waiting for her reaction, remembering too many other conversations like this with women that had also gone sideways.
“Well, good,” she said with a small nod.
“I ordered from Leroy’s Kitchen and Lounge.
They know me very well there, since I love me some fancy food.
I got you the house-made bucatini…pork sausage, mushrooms, basil, pesto, and ricotta salad.
I got myself the whole-fried branzino, which has basmati rice, red African curry, chili oil, and cilantro.
It’s very spicy, but I love it. If you don’t want the bucatini, though, I’m happy to switch with you…
or we can just order a pizza. I’ve got our meals warming in the oven because I wasn’t sure exactly when you were going to get here… Why are you looking at me like that?”
Storm didn’t have to ask her what she meant. He knew he was staring at her as if she had two heads. “You aren’t going to ask me for more details about the guys’ mission?”
She frowned as if confused. “No. I know you can’t tell me. I appreciate you saying as much as you did. Why…should I?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I just…most people aren’t as…accepting as you are when I can’t tell them details about my work.”
“Storm,” Jane said gently. “I get it. I might be only a mail chick, but I do understand confidentiality and top-secret clearances.”
“Don’t do that,” he scolded.
“Do what?” she asked with a small tilt of her head, genuinely oblivious.
“Don’t belittle yourself. You aren’t ‘only’ a mail chick.
You’ve worked hard to get to where you are.
Own it. Be proud of it. You run a tight ship, and I, for one, am very thankful I don’t have to track down correspondence that I know I should’ve received, and I never worry about my reports and other documents getting to where they need to go safely and securely. ”
“You’re right,” Jane said a little sheepishly. “I just…you’re larger than life to me, and I still have to pinch myself that you’re here. Sometimes my insecurities get the best of me.”
“Well, you have nothing to worry about. And…bucatini? You really got me bucatini?”
She smiled. “I did.”
“Damn,” he said on a sigh. “I could get used to you ‘cooking’ for me. But honestly, it’s too much. Leroy’s Kitchen isn’t cheap.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked.
“Of course,” he told her immediately.
“Leroy feels sorry for me and gives me a kick-ass discount,” she told him with a grin. “I think I’ve put at least two of his kids through college with how much I eat there, so it’s only fair.”
Storm laughed and felt his muscles relaxing for the first time that day. “Red, I do believe you’re talking out of your ass,” he replied, quoting Shawshank.
Jane looked confused for a millisecond, then she threw her head back and laughed. “I’m not, I swear I’m not. And…good usage of the movie quote.”
Storm felt ten years younger just standing in her foyer bantering with her. Just the thought of how she could’ve been badly hurt if the bomb that had exploded in her hands had been anything other than tear gas physically hurt his heart.
And remembering how he’d decided he was going to take things slow, get to know her at work before attempting to ask her out, made him shake his head in disbelief.
If he’d done that, he would’ve missed out on this right here.
And missing out on one second of time with Jane Hamilton suddenly seemed like the stupidest decision ever.
“I needed this,” he said softly.
“What?” she asked.
“This. You. Preparing dinner, even if that preparation was ordering it from one of your favorite restaurants. Quoting Shawshank and having you know what the hell I’m talking about.
Forgetting about work for a few hours and simply relaxing with a funny, beautiful, and charming woman who doesn’t get pissed when I can’t talk about my job. ”
Her face gentled, and Storm could see how much his words meant to her.
“Me too,” she said. “I mean, I didn’t have to deal with the aftermath of a mission like you did today, but NCIS came down to talk to me again after I was in your office—and they scared the shit out of me, giving me all sorts of dire warnings about how the bomber might come after me, that the news made it seem like I’d foiled his great plan of getting to the rear admiral.
Basically saying the same thing as Dag.”
“Come ’ere,” Storm said, pulling her even closer into him, resting his hand on the back of her head as she rested her cheek against his chest.
They stood in each other’s embrace in her hallway for a long moment, taking solace and comfort from one another.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a while.
“Not your fault,” Jane returned immediately. “And it’s not that I don’t believe the investigators, it just doesn’t make sense that someone would get upset with me. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, collateral damage.”
Storm pulled back and put his hands on her face. He was only a few inches taller than her, and so they were almost eye to eye. “Even so…be careful, okay?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll tell you if I find out anything else about who he might be.”
“Can you do that?” she asked.
“Yes,” Storm said, even though he wasn’t one hundred percent sure of his answer.
If the person behind the mail bomb was a former SEAL, or one of Creasy’s sailors, he might not be at liberty to give her any details, but he could give her as much information as possible to keep her safe and still retain confidentiality.
For the first time in his career, Storm knew he would breach security and tell her what she needed to know to keep herself safe…even if that meant he would get in trouble.
And just like that, Storm had a better understanding of what Phantom had felt when he’d disobeyed a direct order to head overseas and rescue Kalee Solberg.
“Come on,” Jane said softly. “You need food.”
Storm smiled when his stomach chose that moment to growl.
“See?” she said with a smile. Then she grabbed hold of his hand still on her face and tugged him deeper into her apartment.
He couldn’t help but let his gaze drop to her ass as she led him to the small table next to her kitchen.
Jane had what some people might call a bubble butt.
It seemed like such a derogatory term when others said it, but as he stared at her gorgeous body, he couldn’t agree.
His hands itched to get ahold of her. To watch the fleshy globes shimmy and shake as he took her from behind.
It was a visceral image, and Storm felt like an ass for even thinking it.
He and Jane weren’t that far in their relationship.
Hell, they hadn’t even kissed yet. Really kissed.
He shouldn’t be thinking about fucking her…
and yet he couldn’t stop his mind from fantasizing about how beautiful she’d be lying under him, her brown hair fanned out on his pillow, her back arched with her luscious tits thrust up for his mouth.
How she’d spread her legs for him, and how amazing her heat would feel around his cock.
“Storm?” she asked, and he forced his mind out of the gutter. Jane deserved more from him than base urges. He needed to be better.
“Yeah?”
“You looked like you were a million miles away,” she said.
“You’re beautiful,” he blurted, and watched as she blushed. “I mean it.”
Jane shrugged. “I’m just me,” she told him. Something she’d said before.
“Yes, you are,” he agreed. Then, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sit across from her throughout dinner without thinking about touching her, kissing her, Storm tugged her toward him.
And once more she stumbled into him, her hands landing on his chest.
“This is our third date,” he reminded her.
And thank fuck she knew exactly what he was getting at.
“Looks like the world—and you—went and got itself in a big damn hurry,” she quipped.
Her quote from Brooks in Shawshank made him even harder. He raised an eyebrow, asking permission to kiss her.