Sealed and Delivered

By

Jill Monroe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author

JILL MONROE makes her home in Oklahoma with her family. When not writing, she spends way too much time on the internet completing “research” or updating her blog. Even when writing, she’s thinking of ways to avoid cooking.

Dear Reader,

I was so very excited to be asked to be part of the UNIFORMLY HOT! series because, quite frankly, what could be sexier than a strong, capable hero’s hero?

Then I realized that although I had a family friend who was a former SEAL, I didn’t really know that much about that part of the military. I began an amazing journey learning not just what it takes to become a SEAL, but also the career-long training and commitment these men make. I really stand in awe of these men, but also the women and families that support them along the way. All I can do is say thank you for your sacrifices.

I had a lot of fun learning about BUDs and SQT and of course downloading pictures of SEALs in action off the internet—that kind of research could go on for days! I did take a few liberties in the name of fiction, but I hope Sealed and Delivered lives up to the awesome reality.

I love to hear from readers; you can visit me on the web at http://www.jillmonroebooks.com or http://www.authortalk.tv

All my best,

Jill

Thanks again to Pink, my amazing daughters and all my family for their support.

To Gena Showalter—may everyone have a friend as good!

Thanks to Kassia Krozser who’s been with me from the beginning—some day I promise to put in a serial comma, and you’ll know that’s for you.

For technical help, I often turned to Helen Kay Dimon and James Miyazawa—thanks so much to the pair of you.

Alison Kent, Betty Sanders, Donnell Epperson, Sheila Fields, Stephanie Feagan and Wendy Duren all allowed me to bounce an idea off of them, and I appreciate it so much.

Many thanks to both Kathryn Lye and Deidre Knight.

Prologue

NEW CITY. NEW LIFE. New bookstore.

Same old, same old, in the self-help section.

Hailey Sutherland ran her fingers along the familiar titles; most of these books she already owned.

Maybe the Problem IS Your Sex Life.

Owned it. And yeah, the problem probably was her sex life, in that she always picked complete jerks to have it with.

Make Love Happen to You.

Yeah, as if women hadn’t been trying to make that reality for centuries. Besides, the book was mainly a bunch of self-esteem exercises. She and her self-esteem had come to an understanding some time ago. They loathed one another.

Becoming the Woman You Are Meant to Be.

“Come to mama,” Hailey whispered as she pulled this new book from off the high shelf. She thumbed through the glossy pages. Personality quizzes, wish-list management sheets, projection tips…With a sigh, Hailey returned the book to the shelf. She’d done it all before.

Yet, here she was again in the bookstore looking for the answer. Her cell phone rang just as she was returning the book to the shelf.

“Hailey, you won’t believe it. I’ve just booked a wedding shower in the Tea Room,” gushed her sister, Rachel. She’d always been the enthusiastic one.

“I don’t believe it,” Hailey deadpanned.

“Well, believe it, and I’m going to need you to stop at the paint store on the way back home.”

“So you finally decided on a color?”

“Papaya Whip.”

“Sounds yummy.”

“I think it’s as close to the original color as we’re going to get,” she said with a heavy sigh. Her sister’s search for the exact same shade that highlighted the Tea Room’s ornate wooden scrollwork since the 1920s had been mercenary. Just like Hailey, Rachel had returned to The Sutherland a few months ago to take away control of their family bed & breakfast from the management company they’d hired after their parents’ death five years ago.

Management company, what a joke. They’d mainly managed to run the place into obscurity and out of cash. But Hailey and Rachel were determined to change that. The B&B had kept generations of Sutherlands off the streets and employed, and it wasn’t going down on their watch.

“With only two weeks, it’ll have to do,” her sister continued.

Hailey almost dropped the phone. “Did you say two weeks? As in, we’re hosting a wedding shower in the Tea Room in two weeks?” Her stomach began to hurt.

“I had to take the booking,” Rachel defended without sounding defensive. “You know how much we need the cash.” Enthusiastic and practical…that was her baby sis.

With fewer and fewer reservations, her sister’s now exhausted savings caught them up on the pile of unpaid bills the management company had left them with. Hailey’s “rainy day” was to cover the soon-to-be established marketing plan that would return The Sutherland to San Diego’s preeminent social spot.

At one point the Tea Room in The Sutherland had been the place for showers and parties in this area of California. It seemed a lot more doable three months ago. “Okay, but two weeks? We’ve never hosted anything like that before.”

Rachel groaned into the phone. “Come on. You’ve been engaged three times.”

“True, but all I had to do was show up for those parties.”

“I’m sure something rubbed off. We can do it, Hailey. Look how easy everything has gone so far. We were both between jobs at the same time so we could come back and take advantage of that nice little loophole that let us drop the management company as if it’s hot.”

“You’re still doing the song-lyric thing,” Hailey teased. After gradation, Rachel had grabbed her guitar and drove herself to Nashville to try and make it as a songwriter. Song titles often made it into her everyday conversation.

Rachel ignored her and went on. “It’s as if fate wants us to revitalize The Sutherland.”

Fate and a lot of hard work.

“Okay, paint store it is,” Hailey agreed and she closed her cell phone. She turned on her heel, nearly running into a large cardboard display. Overhead, a flashy red banner hung from the ceiling proclaiming, Don’t Wait On Fate—Jump-Start Your Life Today!

Fate.

Strange, her sister had just mentioned the word and here she was almost being attacked by it. The display was talking her language. Jump-start life—sounded like self-help to her. Although what awaited her inside the cardboard display was not a book, but rather a deck of cards. Fate Delivery Cards. Somehow those cards managed to make their way onto the counter and into her bag with a colorful and very detail-oriented book on ceramic tile—the real reason for her trip to the store.

And since she was in the mood, she’d chalk her purchase up to fate, rather than poor impulse control.

Chapter One

Two Weeks Later

NOT EVEN THE SOUND of footsteps echoed in the Naval Special Warfare Center as Lieutenant Commander Na-thanial “Nate” Peterson led his trainees through the corridor. Each exercise had grown steadily more dangerous, and even though they’d gone over every aspect in the classroom, actuality always heightened the senses. Made the tension more acute.

“Where’s the party?” a trainee called laughingly from the back. “I hear you always know.”

Nate’s shoulders straightened. Strange thing about tension…some soldiers rose to the challenge, some men snapped and some, well, some of them bellowed smartass remarks to their superior.

“You’re never going to live that reputation down.” Riley laughed quietly beside him. Their steps slowed as they approached the locker area where the men would change into their wetsuits.

Nate shot a disgusted look at the man he’d known since their BUD/S training class. True, Nate had earned a reputation as a man who liked to play hard but he worked just as hard. Harder, actually. And yes, he always knew where the party was. But there was something all SEALs understood, and that was to keep priorities in order.

Something that smartass hadn’t yet realized. Some men knew and understood from the beginning when to turn it off and on. Others needed that knowledge worked into their thick heads. Like the Ensign behind him. As it had been for Nate a few years back.

Nate stopped, and turned to stare at the man who’d called the question, not needing to see the man to know who he was. Harper treaded toward a familiarity he hadn’t yet earned. “Maybe a party isn’t what you should be concerned about, Ensign Harper. Your swim time is slipping.”

The younger man’s back stiffened, and the other trainees hustled quickly into the locker room.

“So’s your conditioning,” Nate added. This next minute would be crucial. How Harper handled the criticism would prove to Nate if that man had what it took to earn his Trident. SEALs took evaluation and adapted and made themselves better.

The Ensign swallowed. “I’ve passed.”

Eight years ago Nate was this guy, with his BUD/S, Hell Week and Jump School behind him. All that stood in the way between the Ensign and the Trident that turned a man into a SEAL was The Finishing School or the official name—SEAL Qualifications Training, here on Coronado. With the end prize in sight, that was something a man could get cocky about. But that cockiness would be a downfall…no question about it.

Although surely that had been long gone in Nate by the time he’d hit SQT. Some hardass instructor had ensured it. A man lost his swagger when he was wet, cold and covered in sand. Lost the arrogance, because his life, and that of his Team, depended on professionalism not ego.

Now it was his turn to make sure these men thought only of focus and discipline, and each other, not themselves.

Unfortunately.

“Minimum standards are forty-two pushups in two minutes. You content with the minimum?” Nate asked.

Something stony and strong-willed flared inside the other man’s eyes. Good. “No sir,” he answered, with nothing but determination in his voice.

No sir was right. Harper might just be the best man to come out of this class.

“Suit up,” Nate ordered and turned, not waiting for a response. Their next drill was in an hour.

Once the candidates were out of earshot, Riley glanced at him. “How do you keep a straight face during that?”

Nate let his guard down a little and smiled. “By counting the hours until I’m out of here,” Nate told him as they continued down the hall, just the two of them. “Besides, if I’m not on the Teams, I’m damn well going to make sure my replacement can do the job.”

“Still doing the physical therapy?” Riley asked.

Nate shrugged. Three months ago, he’d been injured while rescuing a pirated freighter with rigged explosives. Now another man had his spot on his Team. While Nate was teaching. The muscles of his right leg cramped, and he breathed through his nose. Control.

But as soon as he was healthy, goodbye settling for being an instructor, goodbye Coronado Island, goodbye San Diego.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve heard good things about the training you’re providing. I guarantee your fresh-off-deployment perspective will save a life.”

He knew what Riley was trying to do, and appreciated the effort but men didn’t join the SEALs for a pat on the back. Most of the stuff he and his fellow SEALs had done was so covert the files wouldn’t be opened until he was long gone. Little would ever make the history books.

But Nate’s friend did point out a reality. In another year, these men might be beside him down range. Most of these men he’d be happy to serve next to as SEALs…but they weren’t there yet. He might not like instructing, but he’d make damn sure the new guys wouldn’t hold a Team back. They’d be ready on day one. “So is there a party?” Riley asked hopefully.

“After this exercise, I’m on my way to pick up the beer,” he said, with a wink.

“Hoo yah.”

“WHOO HOO! NAKED!”

The echoes of laughter flowed from the newly-repainted Tea Room into the modernized kitchen. Hailey glanced at her sister Rachel and smiled. “Those are the sounds of a good party.”

“I have to hand it to you, Hailey. You did a great job with this wedding shower.”

“As you’ve pointed out, I’ve had three. Glad something useful came out of those relationships.” With a flourish, Hailey topped the last of the mousse with chocolate shavings. “Of course you can’t really go wrong with chocolate and champagne.”

“Or naked beefcake.”

“I don’t think The Sutherland is quite ready for that.” Hailey lifted the tray and scooted backwards, pushing the door out into the Tea Room with her backside.

“The chocolate’s here!” called Amy Bradford, the bride to be. Although they’d been friends since school, they’d lost track of each other. Reuniting with old pals was another positive she could attribute to returning home.

“Wait,” said a redhead, who Hailey had learned was the maid of honor. “The girls and I chipped in and bought you something to wear on your wedding night.” The other guests met this announcement with everything from giggles to a few oohhs. In a flourish, she presented to the bride a large paper-wrapped box tied with a bright yellow bow.

“Five bucks says that box is empty,” Rachel whispered.

Hailey glanced at the dozen or so women. Despite their pastel sundresses, these ladies looked like they were up for a little mischief. Hailey shook her head. “Not taking that bet.”

Careful not to rip the ribbon, the bride did indeed open an empty box to the laughter of the group. With the last present now revealed, Hailey and her sister moved forward to serve the desserts. The rest of the guests made room on the table for the treat their little B&B had always been known for in decades past.

Amy glanced up toward Hailey. “I can’t tell you how excited I am that you have reopened The Sutherland. When I was seven and a flower girl, my aunt had her shower here.”

“Amy’s had her heart set on this place ever since,” the maid of honor added. “I couldn’t believe my luck when I found out you just happened to have a free weekend.”

The two sisters looked at one another. Yeah, they had plenty of free weekends. But it was nice to keep up the illusion of exclusivity.

“It was fate,” Amy said with the kind of beaming smile only a woman about to be married could get away with.

Had Hailey ever worn such an expression at any of her wedding showers? She doubted it.

“And the Tea Room looks just as beautiful as I remember,” Amy continued.

“Tell your friends,” Hailey encouraged, ever the businesswoman, and ready to tear her thoughts away from her failed engagements.

After serving the ladies, and refreshing their tea, Hailey and Rachel began to discreetly clear away the wrapping paper. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” Rachel said quietly. This was the first real test of their hosting skills. While The Sutherland had been in their family for generations, and they’d performed their fair share of serving, their mother had always been the hostess.

Just to make sure the place shined, the last coat of paint to the Tea Room had gone up sometime around two that morning. Now looking around the beautiful banquet hall, Hailey experienced a swell of pride to see her home restored to as close as the sisters could remember it. The cypress wainscoting she was never allowed to touch gleamed. Prisms of light reflected around the room from the newly washed crystals hanging from the chandelier. The cornice molding gleamed with its new coat of papaya whip.

She just hoped no one looked under the crisp linens because the tables were a disaster. The management team apparently held an aversion to coasters. After hearing the delight of their new guests, the memory of all their hard work faded away. Grandpa Sutherland would be proud.

“This dessert is to die for,” one of the ladies exclaimed.

Hailey winked at her sister.

“What’s next?” asked another guest.

The smile faded from her sister’s face.

The bridal party had already played Groom Trivia, Wedding Night Surprise, opened the presents and consumed dozens of champagne soaked strawberries. Hailey had heard so many off-color wedding night jokes, she could probably start a stand-up routine. “What’s next?” her sister mouthed.

After being awake for nearly twenty-four hours, Hailey had hoped it was a nap.

The bride had mentioned something about fate, and ding ding ding, that little word triggered a memory in her sleep deprived and work fogged brain of a bookstore purchase not so long ago. So far fate had worked on their side, maybe they should keep it rolling. “Our last game will be ready as soon as we’ve cleared,” Hailey told them demurely, then turned to race up the stairs two at a time to her bedroom. If her grandma had seen her run through the hallway like that…

Four months ago, the funding for her junior assistant curator position at the Dallas Museum of Art ran out, leaving her jobless. Back in San Diego, she’d reclaimed the bookshelf-lined room that had been hers. The corner room with a small window to the ocean had been her refuge from the oh-so-embarrassing job of working in her family’s B&B when she was growing up.

While her friends were hitting the sandy beaches, she’d been learning the secrets to making spider web Grenache, or worse, taking care of the guests’ laundry. She smiled at the memory of her teen angst. What she wouldn’t give now to sit beside the large stove and talk to her mother as she made the delicious meals for their guests, or hear her grandma’s lessons of how a real lady crossed her legs at the ankle.

A time when she didn’t have to worry about bills. Hailey wouldn’t lose the battle for The Sutherland before she’d really had a chance to implement her ideas. Growing up in a work of art, like The Sutherland, with so much history, it was no wonder she’d been drawn to preserving and showcasing the past. Now she was saving something infinitely more personal…her family’s legacy. Though she had work to do on the first step—save this wedding shower. She scanned the various self-help titles that now filled her bookshelf, looking for the bright red packaging. There they were—the Fate Delivery cards.

She peeled off the plastic wrapping as she raced down the hallway, stuffing the cellophane wrapper into her apron. Hailey plastered on a serene expression reminiscent of their mother as she returned to the Tea Room where Rachel finished the last of the clean-up. Their guests were talking quietly, looking over the various gifts the bride had received.

Needing to set some kind of mood here, Hailey flipped the switch cutting off the light provided by the chandeliers. The natural sunlight filled the room with its warm tones.

“Okay, ladies, the time is now,” she said, her voice low and laced with dramatic flourish. An instant hush fell over the room. Hey, they were into it. Maybe Hailey had finally found the silver lining of taking that acting class in college, which sadly had led her to Fiancé Failure Number One.

“Amy is about to embark on a new journey that fate has ordained. Now it’s our turn to see what’s destined for the rest of us.” Hailey fanned the cards in her hand. “Pick your fate, but don’t look at it.”

Each guest in the circle took a card, holding it to her chest, giggling to one another about taking peeks. Hailey held out the deck to Amy.

“Maybe I shouldn’t take a card,” the soon-to-be-bride said.

“Oh, take a card, Amy,” said the maid of honor with a quick nudge. “It’s just a game.”

With a good-humored smile, Amy slid a card from the deck and placed it face down on her lap.

Hailey returned the unused cards back in the cardboard box they came in and set them aside. “Now ladies, the bride will choose who goes first,” she instructed, making the rules up as she went. “You will show your card to the rest of the group, then look at it yourself. Some of the fates are silly and fun, but others are true life-changing destinies.”

She hoped.

Maybe.

Hailey backed away to the wall where her sister watched. “Fate had ordained?” Rachel whispered to her. “I’ve forgetten how dramatic you can be.”

“If it works, it works. Did you catch my emphasis on the word last, when I talked about this game?”

“Here’s hoping they did,” Rachel said, hiding a yawn with her hand.

“Tori, you go first,” Amy said, clearly fired up to get this game going.

Tori turned her card to show to the rest of the group. A few groans followed.

“Oh, you have an easy one,” one of the ladies called out.

Tori twirled the card around and read aloud. “Kick off your shoes and run into the wind.” Then she glanced at her friends, raising a brow. “Speak for yourself on that being easy. Once I get these heels off, they’re not going back on.”

“No, you can’t get out of it,” Amy insisted, now fully involved in the game. “The beach is right outside this window.”

Floor to ceiling windows dominated one side of the Tea Room. Shrouded in beautiful lace, the curtains allowed natural sunlight to filter into the room. But sweep them aside, and the Italian tiled terrace beckoned, as did the beach. The perfect place to kick off shoes and run.

“I’ll handle this,” Hailey said as she pushed off the wall and walked to the curtains that hid the glass door to the terrace. After draping the heavy material in the ornate holdbacks, she unlocked the doors so the women could step outside.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” several of the guests murmured as they stepped out onto the terrace, their heels clacking on the original tile some Sutherland relative had installed. She and Rachel hadn’t done much to this area but clean up the landscaping, although her sister had big plans to add tables and chairs, and serve brunch accompanied by an ocean breeze. There were other ways for the B&B to earn money besides guests in the rooms.

“Tori, just because it’s pretty out here doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten why we’ve come. You’ve got some running to do.”

With a sigh, Tori reached down and slid the straps off her heels, and carefully tucked her shoes to the side. “Here I go!” she called out.

Hailey had to join in the laughter as Tori took off down the beach in her sundress, the wind blowing in her hair. She turned to run backwards, raising her hands in the air like a winning marathon winner.

“Oh, no. Tori, look out.”

But Tori was too far away to hear Amy’s warning call, and Tori jogged right into the very solid chest of a man enjoying the beach with his dog. Now off balance, Tori began to slide to the sand until the man dropped his Frisbee and caught her. He steadied her against his body.

Amy’s warnings turned to laughter as Tori glanced up to her savior’s face. Then smiled. Slowly. The man didn’t let go.

“Get his name,” one of the guests called.

“And his number,” Amy added.

“I tell you, she meets men in the weirdest ways,” said the maid of honor. “Amy, choose who should go next.”

Amy glanced over at Tori, who was now tilting her head and brushing sand off the man’s arm. “Should we wait for her?”

“No, that’s going to take awhile. Look at him, he’s a goner.”

With a nod, Amy agreed. “Then you should go.”

Just as the maid of honor was about to reveal her card, her cell phone rang. Looking down at the display she frowned. “Amy, I’m sorry, I have to take this.” The maid of honor thrust the card toward Hailey and quickly made her way back inside the Tea Room.

“Oh, but—” Hailey stammered.

“Show it, Hailey,” Amy said.

Hailey glanced across the veranda to the Tea Room. It didn’t appear as if the maid of honor was coming back any time soon. Well, Hailey had bought these cards for a reason. Maybe now it was time to do something for herself. With a sigh, she turned the card toward her guests.

To a lot of laughter.

“Oh, that’s hilarious.”

“That could be really good or really bad.”

With some alarm, Hailey quickly turned the card over and read, “Kiss the first man you see.”

No. NO. And hell no. Getting away from men was the second reason she’d come home. Hailey wasn’t about to actually throw herself at one. And, as far as she was concerned, certainly nothing good ever came from kissing.

Some of the women were already moving toward the end of the terrace to search the sandy beach for available men, their skirts twirling in the breeze. “I see a few contenders way down the beach,” one said, smiling.

“Just think, five minutes earlier and it would be you in the arms of that guy instead of Tori,” said another.

Tori was welcome to him. To all men.

A strange whooshing sounded over their heads. Hailey’s skirt practically lifted to her chin thanks to a strong, very out-of-place gust of air. Okay, not completely out of place. Shielding her eyes with one hand, and trying to hold strands of her carefully constructed chignon in place, Hailey looked up to spot the now familiar helicopter hovering over the ocean.

The Navy SEALs were back.

Hailey suppressed a groan. The SEALs had been conducting their training nearby on a semi-regular basis ever since she’d returned to Coronado. But Saturday afternoons had always been blissfully free of the noise and the wind. Why now during their first formal event?

The door of the helicopter’s cabin slid open sharply and some kind of rope was thrown out, the end suspended just a few feet above the water.

“What’s going on?” asked a guest.

“Would anyone like more tea?” Hailey tried, but no one was paying her any attention. Everyone’s focus was on the chopper.

At the cabin’s entrance, a man emerged, clad in a skintight black wetsuit. Hell, she might as well look, too. She squinted, but Hailey was too far away to make out features. Besides, she was paying too much attention to the fact that he was solid, lean muscle. She swallowed as he caught and pulled the rope toward him, wrapping it around his wrists and hands while securing it with his long legs. Hailey gasped as he flung himself over the side of the helicopter, strength evident in his every move. Her mouth went dry as he slid down the rope, heading for the rough, churning water. When he reached the end of the rope, he dove into the ocean, leaving little splash.

“Did you see that?” one of the women asked, her voice hushed.

How could she not?

After a moment he resurfaced, and the breath she’d been holding finally released.

“I’d think that would qualify as the first man you see, Hailey,” Rachel said, not able to suppress the laughter from her voice.

“Hope you have a nice bikini to wear to swim out there to meet him,” the bride said, joining in the fun. “But look.”

With reluctance, Hailey took her gaze off the man easily treading in the ocean to find even more men scrambling out of the helicopter.

Great. This was just great. The last thing she wanted to do was kiss a man, and fate had sent them literally falling out of the sky.

Chapter Two

“WHICH ONE ARE YOU GOING to choose?” Rachel asked, her voice filled with laughter. Gleeful, encouraging-of-others to torment her sister kind of laughter. Now Hailey didn’t feel so bad about the “haircut” she’d given Rachel at the age of four.

“Five, six, seven,” Amy counted as each man propelled himself onto the rope. “And they keep coming. So would the first one technically be the first one out of the helicopter?”

“I have a self-help book that would be perfect to cure you of that sarcasm. It means you’re hiding a lot of pain,” Hailey whispered to her sister.

“Nah,” Rachel said with a growing smile.

“No, I think it would be the first one she’d reach,” said another guest.

“Well, that could depend on which direction she swam, giving her a choice.”

These ladies were applying the same kind of arguments and logic one would use when discussing String Theory or macroeconomics. It was just a guy.

“So which one?” Amy asked.

Curious eyes now gazed her way.

None of them.

Thankfully, the whooshing sounds from the helicopter drew their guests’ attention away from her.

“Oh, they’re leaving,” one of the ladies said, clearly disappointed.

“Just the helicopter. The guys are still in the water. Look.”

Sure enough eight men waded in the water. Sometimes they would point, or go under the waves for a moment, but basically stayed in the same general location, performing what looked like drills.

“Now that can’t feel good. The water is cold this time of year. Why would they be out there?” asked one of the women, frowning.

The bride leaned forward. “One word—training. Those are Navy SEALs.”

“SEALs?”

The sisters nodded in confirmation. They’d witnessed this little scenario play out with several of their female tourists. First the confusion, then the excitement followed by the gawking.

“Why didn’t you say so before?” Two of the women rushed to the railing to get a closer look, their heels clacking against the tile. Yeah, it was pretty much downhill from here.

“I didn’t realize you could see them from the B&B.”

“All up and down this area. They train right on Coronado,” Hailey told them.

One woman, who Hailey thought might be the guest book attendant, pulled out her camera phone and snapped a picture.

“What’s going on?” Tori asked. She’d left her new friend, slipping a note inside her purse as she rejoined the group.

Amy looped her arm through Tori’s and led her to where she could see the beach. She pointed out toward the water. “Hailey’s fate is to kiss one of them.”

“Lucky her,” Tori said, turning appreciative eyes out to the ocean.

Amy propped her hand on her hip. “Didn’t you just have a bit of luck yourself? Was that a phone number I saw you squirreling away?”

A slight flush touched Tori’s cheeks. “I have a date Friday night.”

“Tori, you’re the only person I know who could snag a date at a wedding shower.”

This had to be good for business. Following clean up, and a nap, Hailey would be buying more sets of cards. After she ducked out on fulfilling the dictates of the card thrusted upon her, that is.

Amy put an arm around Hailey’s shoulder. “I see you backing away. Don’t think we forgot about you, kiddo. You still have a Fate waiting for you.”

When had the bride become so menacing? Maybe Hailey wouldn’t be buying those additional decks after all.

“Come on, ladies, you know I’m not swimming out there,” she told them, with a touch of fun firmness that said she understood she was in on the joke.

“Maybe you won’t have to,” Tori said, pointing at the ocean. Two of the men had broken away from the group and were now swimming straight for The Sutherland. Straight toward her.

Hailey’s eyes widened as she realized one of them wasn’t swimming, and appeared to be unconscious. She sucked in a breath, then watched in amazement as the swimmer rolled the other onto his back, then secured the inert man to his side. With strong sure strokes, he headed for shore. Swimming from that distance would have been exhausting, but pulling the weight of another full-grown man must have been almost impossible. She scanned the beach for some kind of boat. Maybe she could meet them half way.

Kicking off her heels, she lifted her skirt and flew down the tiled stairs of the terrace to the sand below.

“Looks like she found her kissing candidate.” Whistles and catcalls from the shower guests followed Hailey onto the beach.

“Call 9-1-1,” she hollered and she raced toward the man, kicking up sand behind her.

“What?” The ladies’ teasing turned into murmurs of concern.

The swimmer was now standing waist deep in the water. She’d never seen anything like him. Clad shoulder to foot in a dark, skintight wetsuit, he emerged from the ocean. The powerful muscles of his thighs flowed with strength. His suit outlined every solid ripple of the lean lines of his shoulders and arms. He reminded her of Colossus, the powerful X-Man who transformed into solid, dark steel. Her second fiancé sold a ton of those comic books in his store, and witnessing someone with such a show of strength in aid of another, she understood Colossus’ appeal.

The SEAL’s burden still hadn’t moved, and her breath shallowed in panic. The cool water of the Pacific splashed at her ankles as she raced to meet them.

“Stay back,” he warned.

“Let me help,” she offered, seeing the fatigue lining his face. “I’m stronger than I look.”

At five feet two inches, she must look pretty scrawny to this big man. With a reluctant nod from him, she looped the injured man’s arm around her shoulder, taking only a little of the weight. Colossus still managed the bulk of the load. “My friends are calling for help. 9-1-1,” she added.

“I’ve already radioed for the helicopter.”

“From in the water?” she asked, feeling almost instantly silly. Seeing the men up close in their wetsuits or rash guards or whatever they called that tight-fitting dive garb, there was no question they were military. Of course they had some kind of waterproof device. “I know CPR.”

Colossus shook his head as they eased the man to the sand and positioned him on his back. “He’s breathing. He hit his head and blacked out. I made sure he didn’t take in any water.”

“Oh,” she said, sitting back on her heels, her breath coming out in little pants. Okay, well. Colossus seemed to have everything in hand. What was the protocol in a situation like this? Offer him some mousse as they waited for rescue? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t paying her any attention, instead checking on his fallen comrade, counting out his pulse against his watch and lifting the man’s eyelids.

Water ran crazy paths down his forehead and cheeks, but he never brushed it away, utterly focused on the task at hand.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, wanting to help.

The man simply shook his head. He didn’t seem to mind the cold she knew he must be feeling. His breathing was heavy, but he hadn’t handed over responsibility for the other soldier to her so he could take a break. His words had been confident, and his actions seemed to back him up. Unlike Fiancé Failure Number Three who never wasted an opportunity to offer an “expert” opinion, but was only adept at giving completely useless advice.

After a few minutes, the man beside her signaled to his crew still in the water. With a few waves of the hand, that Hailey was sure meant something, they continued on with whatever it was they were doing.

Now, after taking care of everything and everyone else, the SEAL lowered himself to the sand and stretched out his long legs. She tried to avert her eyes, she really did, but that dark wetsuit he wore like a second skin left nothing to the imagination. Actually, both her imagination and reality were enjoying a great show. He finally slicked the water from his face, then glanced her way. His eyes widened as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Than—”

“Uhh,” the man between them stirred, reaching toward his head. A trickle of blood mixed with the water from the ocean was beginning to trail down his temple.

“Don’t touch.”

“Try not to touch,” she said, injecting calm into her voice.

They spoke at the same time. Only his words sounded more like an order.

The injured man blinked a few times against the sun, then his gaze settled on her. “What kind of salvation is this?” He slowly rubbed the saltwater from his eyes. “An angel, and my head hurts like a bi—”

“That’s enough, Ensign Ortiz,” Colossus said, authority lining every word.

The Ensign’s gaze cut toward Colossus. “What happened?” he asked.

Yeah, she was curious about that, too.

“Head.”

Okay, not helpful.

The man on the sand squeezed his eyes tight for a moment, took a deep breath and then with a force of will she’d never seen in another person, pushed himself up to a sitting position. “I’m ready.”

It didn’t fully sink in that the Ensign, who was unconscious only seconds before, had every intention of going back into the water. And that Colossus was going to let him. “But you can’t,” she said, scrambling to her feet. Colossus had already smoothly stood, his tall frame blocking the sun from her eyes.

“It’s his job,” Colossus told her.

With another show of will, the Ensign shoved to his feet. He barely remained upright, then gathered his balance steadily. “Ready,” he repeated.

“Look this way,” Colossus ordered. He examined the Ensign’s eyes, his face relaxing a tick. “Knots on your head?” he asked.

The younger man felt along his scalp, shaking his head no.

Colossus angled his head toward the water. “Okay.”

With a look of relief, the other man began to walk to the ocean.

“But he’s bleeding,” she protested.

“The saltwater will take care of his wound,” Colossus stated, seemingly unconcerned.

She glanced back toward The Sutherland. “I have some anti-bacterial foam—”

Colossus’s lips moved as if he was trying to suppress a smile. “He’s trained to fight with worse.”

She swallowed. Of course he was.

“I can’t believe what he’s doing,” she said, watching the Ensign as he made a smooth dive into the waves, and swam toward the other men still treading water. “Maybe we should have waited until the paramedics arrived.” Yet with every stroke he seemed to gain more strength.

“I’ve had combat medical training. I checked for signs of concussion. He’s fine.”

These men lived in a different world, far away from the corresponding bridal ribbons, chocolate shavings and the waterproof bandages she would have suggested next.

She turned away from the swimming soldier to face Colossus, and that’s when her gaze collided with the steel gray of his. Her breath hitched. Sure she’d noticed the strength of his body outlined so perfectly in his wetsuit, his air of authority and control as he’d handled the situation with the injured soldier, but this man’s eyes were something else. Something inviting and very, very sexy.

A cool breeze from off the ocean fanned her face, her bare arms. Although she tried to fight back a shiver, her nipples tightened. She hoped he’d think her bodily reaction was due to the weather and not the hot, suddenly carnal thoughts popping into her mind about him. Like running her fingers along his arm to feel the solidness of his muscles. To lick that drop of saltwater off his cheek. Or discover just how one gets a wetsuit off a man. Zipper? Scissors? Who knew?

No. No. And hell no. These thoughts were ending right here. She was not in the market for a fling. Or a boyfriend. Boyfriends tended to become fiancés in her world. This would make Fiancé Failure Number Four. And that she was finding someone attractive that she didn’t normally go for meant nothing. In fact, her virtually nonexistent male filtering system had probably just widened the search parameters.

Then Hailey realized they’d both been standing facing one another far longer than necessary. A pause, a tension sprang up between them, and hung heavily in the air. His gray eyes narrowed, something deep in those depths flared. Her lips parted, and she acknowledged her urge to lean into him, get closer. His gaze flickered to her lips, then returned to her face.

And what that brief glance at her mouth did to her.

Go. Now was the time for him to leave. To turn around and head back to the ocean.

“I’m glad your friend is going to be okay.” The words rushed out of her. Okay, so she wasn’t actually ready to let him go. “That was pretty impressive what you did.”

He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with that tiny bit of praise.

“I liked the way you rushed to help.” Not that she’d done much, but it was nice to hear.

She should be uttering a quick goodbye, and get back to her guests. But her gaze settled on his lips and a rush of warmth blasted through her.

You’re supposed to kiss him.

That heat became a fire. What would his lips feel like? Did she dare? With the fate card in mind, Hailey gave herself permission to do what she really wanted to do all along. She followed that push to be closer, and found herself tilting slightly forward. His hands raised, and—

The sounds of giggles had her taking a quick step back. Hailey looked away from Colossus to see Amy, Tori and her sister carrying their shoes and casually making their way towards her and the Navy SEAL.

“Oh, Hailey. That is definitely ‘first man you see’ material,” Tori teased.

In addition to the cards, this would be the last time they served champagne at any wedding showers.

“I’ve been keeping my eye on you, and you haven’t fulfilled your fate yet,” Amy said with faux sternness as she handed Hailey the card.

Hailey’s gaze went to her sister who only shrugged and flashed her a smile. Why had she even bothered looking at Rachel for help? She was obviously getting a kick out of this.

Colossus was retreating, clearly confused by the conversation, happy not to get involved. “Thanks again for your assistance.” He was all business now.

Hailey would just have to ignore that disappointment she felt at the loss of heat between them. Well, from his side. She was still very, very hot.

“Wait, you can’t go.” Amy’s voice lifted higher on each syllable.

“Right,” Tori said, lifting up her nearly empty champagne glass. “Hailey hasn’t kissed you yet.”

Colossus paused. He glanced her way. “You Hailey?” he asked, interest in his eyes.

Did she hear a hopeful tone in his voice? Dear God she hoped so. Hailey surveyed the ladies all eyeing her Navy SEAL. Amy lifted a brow, but her lips twisted in a smile.

They didn’t think she was going to do it.

They weren’t egging her on because they thought it was funny or were trying to encourage her. They were goading her because it would be even funnier when she didn’t kiss him. Well, now. She was having none of that. Hailey hadn’t read a dozen self-help books on visualizing the goal and actualizing, for nothing.

Goal = Navy SEAL’s lips.

Now for the actualization part.

Hailey straightened her shoulders, determinedly took the two steps to reach the man’s side and tugged on his shoulder until he fully faced her. Surprise widened his eyes, but that was the last thing she saw as she closed hers, stood on tiptoe and pulled him down to meet her mouth.

For a moment, he stood still, his lips warm, firm and unmoving beneath hers.

One. Two. Three seconds and she was done. Fate fulfilled.

But apparently fate wasn’t done with her yet, because her Navy SEAL had just gripped her hips and crushed her to his chest. The water from his wetsuit seeped to her breasts, making her shiver, but she didn’t care because his lips weren’t unmoving anymore. They were opening and drawing a sweet response from hers. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, and a deep longing flowed inside her.

He smelled of the sea and ocean air, and tasted of salt and delicious man. Hailey wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him as she sunk her fingers into his short hair, still wet from the swim. And just when she settled into the kiss, his hands began to roam.

Hailey’s heart raced, her legs weakened and she could think of nothing better than to keep doing what she was doing.

So that’s why she pushed herself away.

That shove was an effort, but she took a step back, and their gaze collided. His face was tight, and desire burned in his eyes. Desire burning for her. She sucked in a breath, but walked away. If she kept looking at the clear hunger in his confused eyes, she’d be right back in his arms. Instead, she stopped at the three stunned ladies staring at her. Hailey gave them a breezy smile. “Done.”

The sand sifted between her toes as she ambled slowly back to The Sutherland where the rest of the guests waited for her on the terrace. She swore she felt Colossus’s gaze on her back as she walked away from him, but that was ridiculous.

“Wait, Hailey,” she heard her sister call, but she kept on walking.

After grabbing her shoes, she ascended the steps. She was greeted by a mixture of uncertainty from the guests. And in herself. Her self-imposed male isolation hadn’t done much by way of inoculating her from their sweet temptation.

The maid of honor was only then leaving the Tea Room with cell phone still in hand. “What’d I miss?”

Hailey’s fist tightened around the Fate Delivery Card for a moment before she thrust it at the woman whose fate she’d just fulfilled. “Here’s your card.”

NAVY SEAL TRAINING HAD prepared Nathaniel Peterson for a lot of things. But after Hell Week, Phase Two, SQT and two deployments he shouldn’t have been caught off guard when a beautiful woman kissed him.

And he’d stood there like an idiot when she’d walked off. The hottest, most unexpected kiss of his life, and he failed to follow up. He deserved to watch her walk away, but oh, how he would remember the sweet taste of her mouth and curves of her body pressed to him.

“I can’t believe she did that?” said one of the women.

They traded incredulous glances between themselves then began to laugh.

Stop standing there like an idiot.

“Okay, well, bye,” said the one woman with a bunch of mismatched ribbons in her hair. She caught the arm of the woman who’d called him “first man you see material” and the two of them followed along the same path his kisser had fled.

The last lady eyed him up and down. Then, with a nod to herself, she whispered, “Her name’s Hailey. She works at The Sutherland.” With a point at the large Victorian, she took off, following the others.

A slow smile spread across his face. How could he not appreciate it when the locals provided much needed intel? Or the way Hailey’s skirt cupped her ass as she climbed the stairs away from the beach. With a shake of his head, he turned and sprang into action, hitting the waves and swimming back to his trainees.

They continued to tread water; this long and cold endurance exercise would prepare them for the water insertions they’d practice next. From the tight looks on his men’s faces, they were fighting grins. And losing.

“That looked real dangerous.”

“We were considering whether or not you needed backup.”

Yeah, yeah yeah. He probably deserved the razzing. But should he end it? Instructing was still so new to him. Training was exhausting, stressful work, and handling a few cracks from another SEAL was a low price to pay for pushing them as hard as he did. Besides, he’d already played hardass once today.

“She need mouth-to-mouth?”

Low price to pay to a point. “Shut it, before I drown you.”

The water grew choppy, which signaled the helicopter’s return. The men were then forced to handle their communication by hand signals. It was just as well. Nate had a few hand signals in mind that weren’t Navy regulated.

A rope ladder descended from their transport above, and Nate supervised as each man made his way safely out of the water. He gripped the rung, and hauled himself out of the water, his knee aching with the effort. He gritted his teeth and began to ascend the ladder. It was no secret to the men he trained he’d rather be out with his Team than in San Diego, but orders were orders, and he had enough discipline to admit that until he was fully healed, he’d be more of a hindrance than a help.

It still didn’t make him wish for something different.

Nor did it stop him from glancing once more at the beach. Commander Nate Peterson knew three things: he was in for a longer stretch in San Diego than he’d planned, his need for the woman who’d kissed himhadn’t lessened, and he would see her again. He’d make sure of it.

Chapter Three

“YOU KNOW HE STOOD there even after you left. He watched you.”

Hailey put down the dishtowel she’d been using to dry the pretty yellow-flowered china that Sutherlands had served delicious meals on for generations. Gripping the delicate plate between her fingers, she stared at her sister. “No, he didn’t.”

“I think he was waiting to see if you’d turn around or something,” Rachel said as she wiped suds off a saucer.

“I’m going to swat you with this towel if you don’t stop talking about it,” she warned.

Rachel lifted her hands out of the soapy water in surrender. “Fine, don’t believe me. I was just wondering if you wanted to rinse off or something since that was the most intense eye-screw—or do you prefer eye-loving since you’re such a romantic—I’ve ever seen.”

He’d watched her? Something warm and tingly shimmied down her back, and she blinked. What was that? Some kind of shiver of desire? Nope, not going to acknowledge it. Didn’t happen. What shiver of desire? She should never have dissed fate.

“And then with the other girls laughing, it had to have been weird for him,” her sister continued.

Nope, Hailey would ignore that twinge of guilt. He was a Navy SEAL, he could handle it. “I thought we were going to drop this subject,” she said, pulling the newly rinsed saucer out of the water.

“I remember you suggesting it,” Rachel said, grinning. “Who knows, he might sort of…show up. Or maybe you could stroll up and down the beach in case Mother Nature starts raining men again.”

Hailey wouldn’t even respond to that little bit of insanity.

But she’d lived with the woman beside her almost her whole life, and knew when her sister wasn’t going to let something drop. She placed the newly dried china saucer in the cabinet above her head and faced Rachel. “Why are you pushing this? You know my track record. The last thing I need to be is within shouting distance of a man.”

The playful look on her sister’s face faded. “Maybe you need a little hair of the dog?”

“Like cures like? Use a man to get over a man?” Hailey shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m pretty sure that rationale is what got me engaged time number three.”

Rachel reached over and squeezed Hailey’s hand. “I hate seeing you this moody, Hailey. For a minute there, out on the beach, I saw the feisty, never-turn-down-a-dare Hailey. I miss her.”

If she were being honest, Hailey would admit she missed her old self, too. But something wasn’t right in her life. And hadn’t been for a while. “Yeah, well, the old Hailey made great work of her life so far. Four years of college, a degree in Art Adminstration under my belt and where do I find myself? At a complete dead stop in my career and right back at the family business. Art’s to be experienced. I should be out there working to bring the best collections to the people. Managing field trips and docents. Helping teachers present the arts in their classrooms.”

“Maybe this is where you’re meant to be,” her sister said gently.

Hailey released a heavy sigh. “Even if I gave that some credence, which I don’t, there’s still the issue of my three failed engagements. And let’s not forget, you were the first person to tell me how bad my taste is in men. So, no, we may miss old Hailey, but at the age of twenty-seven, I’m here to find myself and nothing is going to stop me no matter how great a kisser the man is.”

Or how solid his chest.

Or strong his legs.

A little shiver fluttered through her stomach.

Rachel’s lips twisted in a not-so-great effort at hiding another grin. “Did you say find yourself? Now you sound like crazy Aunt June. What happened to her?”

“I think she moved in with her sister. We called her cool Aunt June until then,” she reminded her sister dryly.

Her sister propped a hand on her hip. “See? There’s the old Hailey I missed.”

“You missed sarcasm? Now shoo—the new Hailey has a lot of work to do. I want to finish these dishes, take a nap and tackle that new self-help book.” And work on never thinking of that man and his dangerous kisses again.

“Okay, okay,” Rachel said, sinking her hands into the soapy water.

They worked together in silence cleaning the last of the china. The very modern stainless steel commercial dishwasher took care of the rest of the party utensils and serving dishes, but the Sutherland china was always washed by hand.

“This kind of reminds me of mom,” Hailey said.

“I was thinking the same thing. How many times did we talk about boys, and dates with our hands in this sink?”

“Lots.” She smiled at the happy memory.

“So, he was a good kisser?” Rachel asked.

God save her, yes. “Stop,” she said in exasperation, then swatted her sister with the towel anyway.

AFTER A CHECKING ON the Ensign and a quick debrief, Nate Peterson headed to the weight room. He worked to mask the usually slight limp to his leg, more pronounced after the arduous training swim and carrying the injured man’s weight up onto the beach.

He willed the pain away.

He’d dealt with worse. Fought with worse. Soon, the wicked scar wrapping around his thigh would be the only evidence he’d ever been hurt. His leg injury might prevent him from running, but it couldn’t stop him from strength training. Nothing would stop him from returning to SEAL condition and taking his rightful place in The Teams when he was called.

Nate may have been looking for an escape from his old man, but fate had looked out for him that day when he was in the Navy recruiter’s office at the age of eighteen.

He wasn’t half way through basic when Nate realized he’d found a home. The Navy provided rules and discipline, something he’d never experienced growing up. His father may have laughed, but Nate actually excelled when there was a level of expectation. He wasn’t a benchmark kind of guy. If there was a challenge, Nate didn’t just want to meet it, he wanted to surpass it.

With the SEALs being the most highly regarded and trained of all the Special Forces, Nate knew that Trident would one day be his. He wouldn’t let something like an injury prevent him from doing what he was supposed to do.

He adjusted the weight for the reps to work his upper body. Almost every base he’d been assigned housed a weight room. Different locales, different climates, different languages…this room with its benches, mirrors and weights, was like coming home. Working out was as much a part of his normal routine as shaving or eating. Only the physical therapy exercises were new. The movements, which would return the tone and flexibility to his muscles, he kept to himself and performed away from the eyes of others.

Nate controlled his breathing as he lifted and lowered his arms. Muscle memory took over, and his mind began to wander. To telling eyes, and soft warm lips.

What the hell had that been on the beach? With familiar discipline, he’d kept his thoughts squarely on his tasks and his men. But now…now he allowed himself to remember. And think of her. Of the flowery scent of her mixed with the ocean breeze. Or the way she felt, soft and warm against him.

His thoughts quickly turned to another kind of workout all together. Finding the zipper on the back of her dress, and drawing it down. Sliding those slender, tantalizing straps off the smooth skin of her shoulders, and letting her clothes fall to the sand at their feet.

Why had she kissed him?

Who the hell cared?

Nate heard footsteps in the hallway. His few moments alone were almost over.

“It looked to me like she just pulled him over and kissed him.”

Yeah, that’s exactly how it happened.

“He didn’t handle the attack so well,” another trainee said as they entered the weight room.

The hell he hadn’t.

“If she’d had a knife stuffed in her purse, he’d have been a goner.”

She didn’t have a purse. Just a thin, thin dress.

“Maybe it’s new Navy protocol.” The three men laughed. At his expense. He knew they were only blowing off steam. SQT was just as mentally demanding as Hell Week was physically demanding. But he’d lose their respect if he didn’t call them on it. He realized now he’d made a mistake out there in the water.

Nate lowered the weight and it clanged. Three gazes whipped his way. Followed quickly by three alarmed faces. He met each man eye to eye. His message was clear.

“We didn’t know you were here, Instructor.”

“Obviously,” he replied.

The three stood together, uneasy, but not letting one man take the heat. Whatever Nate had to dish out at them they’d take together. The Teams would do well with soldiers such as these. Like him, they’d had a tough afternoon in the water, and he was impressed by their drive to hit the weight room instead of their bunks.

One day he might be fighting alongside them. They’d learned what he needed them to know.

“It’s always preferable to make nice with the locals,” he told them honestly, then turned, letting these guys off the hook. Yeah, he was a SEAL, “instructor” didn’t sit well with him.

Relieved releases of breath made him smile as he left the room. He liked the men he was teaching; he just didn’t want to be teaching them. Nate knew he could better serve the Navy and do what he was meant to do out of the classroom. He rubbed at the muscles above his knee. Soon. He’d be out of here soon.

Besides, none of them had the sexiest woman in San Diego wrap her warm body against them and plant the kind of hot kisses a man usually thought about on long, arduous hikes out in the dessert. In fact, with their training, the men hadn’t talked to the fairer sex in awhile. However, he wasn’t in training. Nothing was holding him back.

Being laid up in Southern California hadn’t been his idea, but like any tactical move, he planned to take advantage of it. He had the whole night ahead of him, and it was no secret SEALs worked best when the sun went down. And he knew just where to find her. Hailey of the Sutherland Hotel.

She was a woman worth missing a party for.

Hoo ya.

HAILEY COULDN’T NAP LONG. Luckily, her sister’s work on their Web site had yielded a booking for the evening, and she needed to be up and ready to help them check in. Like most B&Bs, the Sutherland served a delicious breakfast, but it had become a tradition to serve a light spinach and basil quiche in the afternoon for guests weary from travel and reluctant to fend for food in a strange city. Just one of the small touches that built a hotel’s reputation. Something the management company hadn’t understood.

The guest doorbell rang. The poor thing still sounded rusty. Wiping her hands on the apron protecting her clothes from the food prep, she quickly made her way to the door. Opening it wide, she almost wanted to slam it shut as quickly as she could.

It was him. The SEAL she’d kissed on the beach a few hours ago. Well, of course it was him. She’d just stood there in the kitchen dissing fate and fate obviously didn’t like it. Her payback was a gorgeous man at her doorstep while she looked horrible. Then the nerves kicked in and her heart turned all fluttery.

“I don’t normally walk around wearing this,” she managed, thinking it might work to draw his attention away from the blue and white checked bib-style apron monstrosity. The baby doll blue dyed bias tape was even fraying around the edges.

Yet if someone were keeping track of the absolute stupidest things to tell a man, that would probably make the Top Ten. Why hadn’t he said anything?

His eyes crinkled in the corners, he almost smiled, and it was almost a little too much. Whatever. He hadn’t been invited; anyway, it was his own fault he saw her with her hair lazily knotted on the top of her head with a pencil she’d found in the kitchen. It’s just, why did he have to look so good?

Fate.

His hair, thick with water the last time she saw him, hadn’t revealed its true color brown, with a few strands turned copper, probably from his days under the California sun. But those gray eyes of his, the color of steel were the same, and they burned into her right now.

Yeah…it was still there. That heat, that unyielding attraction that lay between them even before she kissed him, only grew now. Now that he was here in her home looking big and sexy and so, so kissable.

She didn’t need to worry about the stupid apron, apparently he was thinking about that kiss they’d shared, too. The intensity of his eyes as they met hers told her what was on his mind. Her skin heated, and she felt a flush in her cheeks. His gaze dropped to her lips and she found herself holding her breath.

Her sister charged through the door that led to the laundry, singing a Prince song. Rachel fumbled awkwardly to a stop when she saw them both. “Oh, my God, you’re the…you know, the SEAL.”

“I am,” he said with a nod. Hailey wished she could read his expression. Right now it was agonizingly neutral.

Her sister had never been subtle. Today she was perfecting her art of embarrassingly stating the obvious.

“But you can call me Nate rather than the SEAL.”

Rachel laughed. “Kind of sounds like you should be balancing something on the end of your nose.”

Hailey felt sick to her stomach.

“I’m just kidding. Come in, come in,” invited Rachel. “Not sure why Hailey still has you outside,” she said, flashing her sister a confused look as she rushed to the door. “Welcome to The Sutherland. I’m Rachel, and of course you already know who Hailey is and how she tastes. Can I get you a mojito?”

“A what?” he asked.

Man, he had one sexy voice, Hailey thought. He may have only spoken a few words to her, but that rich baritone was hard to forget. And she’d be strangling her sister later.

“A mojito. Rum, lime, sugar and mint. I’m trying out some recipes. Nothing?” she asked as she ushered him inside and shut the door.

The SEAL shook his head. Actually, to Hailey he gained points by not knowing what the drink was. The three of them stood in the foyer, looking at one another. No one said a thing. If she’d thought her apron remark had been awkward…

“Oh, my gosh,” Rachel exclaimed, her voice overly bright. “Would you look at the time? It’s like, wow, late. Gotta run.”

And being extremely obvious in the process. Actually, Hailey wanted her sister and Nate out of here. Okay, not really.

Since Nate was staring at her, Hailey forced herself not to roll her eyes at her sister’s comment. Although Hailey had a feeling this man didn’t miss much. Rachel had always accused her of becoming like The Terminator when it came to men. She’d automatically run through a list of options and choose which would best annihilate a man’s sense of wanting to stay single.

A woman didn’t get asked for her hand in marriage without knowing a few things.

With the emo guys, it was music. The brainy type always had a sweet spot for all things techno and gadgety. Her experience didn’t run along military lines, but…

She flashed him a small smile. “If you don’t mind, I need to finish up a few things in the kitchen. You do like homemade chocolate chip cookies, right?”

He swallowed.

Got him in one.

Hailey suppressed a groan. It could have been so simple: hear what he had to say, turn down anything if he offered, then send him on his way. Male isolation back in full force. But no, she had to let her curiosity take over, and try to find out his weakness.

Back to the bookstore tomorrow. Surely there was something new on impulse control.

And anyway, the fact that he fell so easily to a little cookie manipulation wasn’t even sporting. Most men loved anything they didn’t have to cook. This man was probably used to that dried powdery stuff you added water to for a meal. Fun on a Girl Scout backyard campout in the third grade, but it’d probably lost its appeal sometime around adulthood.

“I may have some leftover lasagna, too. Actually you’d be doing me a favor by eating it. Leftovers never taste the same to me, and with all the fresh ingredients in the sauce, it would be a shame to leave it wrapped up in the refrigerator.” She may have heard him groan.

He silently followed her down the side corridor to the kitchen.

“This is some contrast from the lobby,” he said.

She nodded, noting the modern appliances and bright efficient lighting. They’d maintained the Victorian feel of the lobby and foyer that reflected The Sutherland’s origin. It still needed a bit more TLC, but she was pretty sure her mother would be pleased. “We take the breakfast part seriously here at The Sutherland B&B, so we needed a good working kitchen. Was that a yes to the lasagna?”

He nodded, and she dished out a healthy serving and graced the side of the plate with buttered garlic bread. “This was my grandmother’s recipe,” she said, and she handed him a fork and napkin embroidered with an S.

His eyes closed in appreciation at the first bite. Thank you grandma. A man with a full stomach was always easier to deal with. He attacked his food like she assumed he handled life, with focus and determination. He ate while she gathered the ingredients for the cookies. With the former men in her life she would have felt obligated to keep up some kind of running conversation. And despite the fact that her thoughts drifted to that kiss he’d ramped up the heat on more than she cared to admit, she was sticking to her no-men plan, and giving herself a break.

It didn’t matter that this guy had an amazing body as evidenced by his skintight wetsuit.

Nope, it wasn’t important that he had the most firm, kissable lips she’d ever seen.

And the fact that he had heroic tendencies to throw on top of all that other good stuff, just to ensure she went a little weak in the knees, meant nothing. Hailey was all about self-improvement, and home improvement, if she counted The Sutherland. Men didn’t factor into either one of those goals. In fact, men usually interfered with a woman’s path to emotional growth.

Hmm, that basecamp food must have been worse than she imagined because he was already done by the time she was rolling little balls of dough. Hailey saved a small amount in the bowl.

“I have a weakness for raw cookie dough. Do you?” she asked.

He nodded and once again she was struck by how handsome he was. He wore just a plain blue polo shirt matched with a pair of khaki shorts, but she enjoyed observing the strength of his bare arms. Tightly muscled, he didn’t have the bulky shape of a body builder, just pure, broad-shouldered strength. It was intimidating.

And thrilling. She was sorely tempted to run her finger along the lines of muscles roping his arms. But those kinds of thoughts led women to playing hide and seek in the sheets.

Hailey pushed the bowl of dough between them, and they both reached inside at the same time, brushing hands. His fingers caught hers, stroked the back of her hand.

“Thank you, Hailey.”

She glanced up, way up, and met his eyes. Steely and completely focused on her. The way he said her name, slowing it down in the middle with a hint of something Midwestern was sexy as hell. And then he smiled and she began to wonder if there was an expiration date on her Fate Delivery Card. Like could she kiss him again right now?

“How long have you been a Navy SEAL?” she asked, ready now to fill the air between them with rambling instead of heat.

“Six years,” he told her, the smile fading from his lips. “Why’d you kiss me, Hailey?” he asked her quietly. If he hadn’t tacked on her name at the end of his question, she could have responded in some glib, flippant way. But how he said her name drew her gaze to his.

“Because I wanted to.” And it was true. From the second Nate emerged from the water she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. His power, confidence and the non-aggrandizing way he took care of his buddy intrigued her.

Fiancé Failure Number Two would have been all about pointing to himself. “Hey, look what I just did. I saved that dude’s life.”

Yet Nate had calmly taken care of business and when it was over, he was ready to hit the water again.

His gaze settled on her mouth, and she could almost feel the heat of his lips. Just lean toward him. That’s all she’d have to do, and those lips would be hers once more. No more remembering or imagining a second and a third kiss with him.

But she wouldn’t. This was not the right time in her life to be canoodling with men who dropped out of helicopters for a living. When she did start dating, it would be with someone utterly stable. Like an accountant or insurance agent.

The timer dinged announcing that the cookies were ready. Saved by the bell. Oh, no, this time she saved herself. Hailey pushed off and away from the counter. Grabbing potholders, she swung open the oven door and pulled out the cookie sheet.

“Glass of milk?” she asked, as she slid the cookies over to the cooling rack.

“Is there any other way to eat cookies?”

With a laugh she opened the refrigerator door. “No, there’s not.” She poured the glasses of milk and served them two cookies each. As she’d done since she was a child, Hailey tore her cookie, loving the way the melted chocolate chip strung between the two halves.

Nate had already wolfed both his cookies down. “Would you like another?” she asked.

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