They got out of the cab and Dylan rounded the vehicle to grab their bags from the trunk. It was just past three o’clock, and the sun was so bright Claire squinted to avoid being blinded and wished she hadn’t shoved her sunglasses into her carry-on. She couldn’t believe how warm it was, especially for December. On the plus side, she happened to be wearing a sundress so thin she may as well be naked.
On the minus side, the barely-there dress had resulted in an hour-and-a-half-long helicopter ride in which Dylan’s green eyes had been glued to her breasts.
Which was perplexing, because…he was gay, right? She still couldn’t figure it out, but the memory of Dylan’s tongue in another man’s mouth was completely incongruous to the way he’d been ogling her on the chopper.
And speaking of perplexing, what the hell had compelled her to come back to San Diego with this man? Clearly she’d suffered a mental breakdown after hearing that Chris was leaving town, but by the time common sense decided to make a return, they’d already been landing on the helipad of San Diego’s Coast Guard base.
After the taxi sped off, Dylan lugged their bags toward the glass doors at the building’s entrance. He didn’t turn around to see if she was following, but he did call out a mocking, “You coming?”
She trailed after him, still mystified by their surroundings. How on earth could Dylan afford to live here? This building was way too luxurious for a SEAL’s salary. They stepped into a beautiful lobby with dark oak furniture, cream-colored carpeting, and tasteful artwork on the walls, and were immediately greeted by the uniformed security guard sitting behind a spacious counter.
Dylan smiled and nodded at the bulky African-American man, then introduced Claire as his houseguest. The fact that the guard wrote down her name told Claire that security was taken seriously in this building.
Her flip-flops snapped against the lush carpet as she and Dylan headed toward a corridor to their left. She winced at each snap snap, feeling way too underdressed. It didn’t help that Dylan still wore the crisp black suit he’d donned for the wedding, which made her skimpy dress and plastic shoes look even more out of place.
“This place is so fancy,” she whispered. “How can you afford to live here alone?”
“Always so concerned with finances, aren’t you?”
The contempt in his voice raised her hackles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dylan pressed the elevator button. “Nothing at all,” he said vaguely. “And to answer your question, I don’t live alone.”
Ding. The elevator opened with a chime and he strode into it without elaborating.
Claire hurried in after him. “You’re still living with Seth then?”
“Nope.”
His response was casual, but the shuttered look on his handsome face answered her next question. He lived with the dark-haired man. The man he’d been kissing that night.
Heat flooded her cheeks, and to her extreme embarrassment, she experienced a spark of arousal. Damn it! She wasn’t allowed to get turned on by it anymore. She’d been trying so hard to stifle that reaction these last couple of months.
But now that the proverbial door had more or less been opened, she found herself walking right through it.
“So. Um.” She swallowed. “Are we ever going to talk about what happened back in September?”
Dylan shrugged. “There’s nothing to talk about. You walked in on a private moment between me and Aidan. No biggie.”
“Aidan? Is that his name?”
“Yep.”
The elevator continued its ascent, the numbers on the electronic panel rapidly flashing before stopping on the number 15.
The doors dinged open.
“Listen,” Dylan said as they stepped into a wide hallway, “I really do appreciate that you didn’t say anything to Chris or my mom about what you saw that night.”
She arched a brow. “And yet you insist the whole thing was no biggie.”
“It’s not. To me, anyway.” His eyes went somber. “But it would be a big deal for them. Chris, especially. My brother is very…conservative.”
“I know.” Claire swallowed again. “My best friend is a lesbian, and, well, Chris has never been openly negative, but I don’t think he likes her very much.”
“Yeah, he’s a bit of a homophobe,” Dylan admitted in a pained voice. “There’s a whole thing behind it, but I don’t want to get into that. Just know I’m grateful that you kept quiet.”
They lingered in the middle of the hall, eyeing each other carefully. Claire realized this was the first time in a year and a half that she and Dylan had had a conversation that lacked any hostile undertones.
Might be pushing her luck, but she figured she should capitalize on the cease-fire. “So you and Aidan…you’re…together?” she asked curiously.
He sighed. “It’s complicated.”