Shit. It’s time to go.
I grabbed my small purse, double-checking that I had the essentials—my ID, some cash, cell phone, a little tin of mints, and a tube of tinted lip balm. I wasn’t much for frills, but fresh breath and kissable lips were high on my priority list today. Because holy hell, the man could kiss.
Closing my eyes for a second, I remembered the way his mouth felt on mine, how dominating and sensual he was when he moved. The way his tongue stroked mine, the feel of his steely erection pressing between my legs, so close to where I wanted it . . .
Damn. Just thinking about him made me ache. I shook off the dirty thoughts and left, locking the door behind me.
I trotted down the stairs and found Nolan waiting for me just where he said he’d be. Right next to his big black pickup truck.
His gaze swung over to watch me approach, and I couldn’t help treating him to an extra swish of my hips. He took note, his mouth quirking up into a lopsided smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.
“You ready?” he asked once I was close.
“Absolutely.” I treated him to a warm smile, thankful to have someone to spend time with in this new town. He opened the passenger door of his truck, which looked like it had just been washed. The sleek finish gleamed in the sunlight.
Without a clue about how to climb up into the beast of a truck, I placed one foot tentatively on the running board, then hesitated.
“Up you go,” he said from behind me.
I could feel his eyes on my butt as his hands came to rest at my waist. Effortlessly, he lifted me onto the seat. The muscles lurking under his shirt were more than just pretty to look at, it seemed.
“Thank you,” I murmured, finding my voice.
When Nolan got in beside me and started the truck, country music played low in the background. I had to smile. This quiet, comfortable life he’d built for himself after retiring from one of the world’s most demanding jobs was enviable. On the outside, at least, he seemed to have it made.
Leaning close and placing one hand on my cheek, he murmured, “I need to taste these lips again.”
So it wasn’t just me affected by those kisses.
His mouth covered mine and I opened, letting him stroke my tongue softly but so surely that a small, murmured groan clawed up my throat.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” He grunted out the words, yanking away like I’d burned him. His voice a little strained, he said, “We’d better go.”
I agreed, my “yes” sounding just as breathless. My heart was still pounding wildly. Or else we’ll end up back inside, humping like bunnies.
As Nolan drove, his hand found my knee and rested there casually. It was crazy how that one small touch both heated my blood and made me feel safe. We made small talk, and he pointed out some landmarks as we drove to the stadium.
When we arrived, we parked in the large lot and walked quite a distance toward the stadium. We climbed the stairs almost as long to reach our seats. Center field, twelfth row up. They were excellent, with a clear view of the field. But when we took our seats, Nolan’s hand once again rested on my knee, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.
“You doing okay?” he asked, sending me a sideways glance.
“Fine.” I cleared my throat. Get it together, Lace. He’s as hot as a July day in Texas, but that’s no reason to clam up.
He waved over a vendor and pulled a stack of bills out of his pocket. “What would you like?” he asked me.
“Whatever you’re having is fine.” He’d already treated me to the game, and I didn’t want to be picky.
He ordered us two beers and stadium dogs, tipping the vendor well. The man’s eyes widened and he thanked Nolan profusely.
Nolan was a man of few words, but it was in these quiet moments that I learned the most about him. Not only was he a tough, kick-ass ex-SEAL, but he was kind, generous, and warmhearted. The combination was enough to kick-start my libido and dampen my panties without even adding in his rugged good looks.
Being around him was easy, and once I had a cold beer and a warm hot dog in my hands, I began to relax a little. I took a big bite of my food and settled into my seat.
“So, what made you want to become a SEAL?” I asked, expecting that it had been a lifelong dream from the time he was just a little boy with a toy gun strapped to his waist and a fort in his backyard.
Nolan looked down at the field, his expression stark, his dark eyes blank. “I grew up a rancher’s kid, and I wanted to see more of the world than the flat prairie inside our four fence posts.”
I nodded along, afraid I’d struck a chord that would sour the playful mood. “Fair enough.”
“But it turned out that was pretty fucking selfish of me. My dad had a massive heart attack in the field one day while he was working, and with no one there to help, no one to call 911 . . .”
He let out a deep sigh and his eyes shifted away, taking several moments before he continued. “I still ask myself if I’d been there that day, maybe he’d still be around. Maybe my mom wouldn’t look at me with those blank, haunted eyes, like she was wondering the exact same thing.”
I reached over and silently placed my hand on his knee, hoping the touch had the same calming effect it had had on me earlier.
“My mom sold off all the land he loved so much. I don’t think she liked the thought that the land was ultimately what took him from her.”
Something tugged inside my chest. I wished like hell I could fix this for him, but deep down, I knew nothing ever would. Sometimes our greatest scars are the ones we don’t wear for the world to see. They’re buried inside our hearts.