“Was that your big plan?”
“No.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, letting his touch linger on my neck. “My plan requires physical activity.” He raises a brow. “Outside of the house.”
“Count me in.” I move to climb off the bed, but his hand catches my arm, stopping me.
Kneeling on the bed, he yanks me against his chest and curls his fingers around my neck.
“I should probably…” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Give you…” His lips brush the other corner. “A full body checkup.” He breathes against my lips. “Just to be sure you’re healthy.”
“I bet your checkup includes a rectal exam.” I bite his bottom lip. “Am I right?”
“Christ.” He grips my butt painfully hard, driving his fingers against the seam of my jeans. “I want to pound your fucking ass.”
“As lovely as that sounds, how about you tell me where we’re going instead?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“What should I wear?”
“What you have on.” He smacks my backside and slides off the bed. “We’ll grab something to eat on the way.”
Two hours later, I’m standing in the last place I ever expected—a locker room. Wearing something I never thought I’d wear on a date in November—a string bikini.
Cole hasn’t explained shit since he rolled his motorcycle into the empty parking lot of the scuba dive shop. He ushered me into the locker room, told me to change, and handed me the white bikini from his bag—a bikini he stole from my closet. Then he left.
I adjust the strings on my hips, double-knotting the double-knots.
Who am I kidding? He only has to flash his dimples and these itty-bitty bottoms will fall right off.
Deep breath, shoulders back, I head into the pool area to see what he has in store for me.
The fume of chlorine stings my lungs as I stroll along the indoor Olympic-sized pool. 15 ft decals mark the edges all the way around, but it looks a lot deeper than that.
It must be after business hours, because there isn’t a soul here.
I take that back. A man stands on the far side near the entrance to the store, gripping Cole in a one-armed hug. They smile and launch into an animated conversation, full of arm gestures and laughter.
About twenty-paces away, I round the final corner of the pool. The men turn their heads and fall silent.
Cole’s acquaintance has the deepest tan I’ve ever seen, and he’s stacked with so much brawn his shirt and jeans strain at the seams. His round head is shaved bald, but his face is youthful. He’s probably a couple years older than me. Around thirty? That would make him the same age as Cole and Trace.
He carries himself the way they do, exuding that heavy-handed, macho, alpha vibe. Maybe they’re all somehow connected through the military?
His eyes seem friendly. And interested. Oh man, he’s really staring at me.
I shift my attention to Cole and the single piece of clothing he’s wearing. Spandex dive shorts stretch across his thighs and sit low on his hips. They’re so tight they look painted on, and I feel a little lightheaded and winded in the presence of all that nude skin and ripped muscle. He’s only been home for a couple weeks, and he already appears bigger, bulkier, healthier. And hotter than hell.
As I close the final few feet, his focus fastens on my face. It’s a heated, captivated focus that hitches my breath and wobbles my balance.
His head turns toward the other man, but his eyes stay on mine, as if he intends to resume his conversation but he just can’t look away.
“Are you going to introduce me?” I touch his arm.
He blinks and scraps a hand through his hair. “Yeah, uh…this is the owner of the scuba shop. He’s—”
“Richard Hickey.” The man wipes a big paw on his shirt and holds it out to me, grinning.
I shake his hand. “Hi, Rich— Wait. Did you say, Richard Hickey?”
His grin falls. “Yes.”
“As in Dick Hickey?”
“As in Richard Hickey.” He narrows his eyes.
“But Dick is short for—”
“Leave the poor guy alone.” Cole shakes his head. “He’s heard that shit his entire life.”
I’m sure he has. “I’m Danni, and now my name sounds so boring and forgettable.”
“I suspect there’s nothing forgettable about you.” Richard gives me a friendly once-over.
“Careful.” Cole’s expression tightens.
“Roger that.” Richard holds his hands in the air and backs up. “I’ll show you the equipment.”
“So…” I follow them toward a storage room. “I assume we’ll be scuba diving in that huge-ass pool?”
“Yes.” Cole reaches back and grabs my hand.
“I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you.”
In the storage room, Richard leads us through a maze of shelving stacked with fins and tanks and other things I can’t name.
“Where did you learn how to dive?” I ask Cole.
Richard stops and casts a confused look over his shoulder.
“What?” I glance between them.
They exchange a tense moment of eye contact before Richard cracks.
“Shit, man.” He grimaces. “I assumed she knew.”
“Assumed I knew what?” I release Cole’s hand and step in front of him with a fist on my hip and anger heating my face.
“My background in…” He gestures at the surrounding scuba equipment and studies my expression. “You’re pissed.”
“How can you tell?” I grind my teeth.
“Richard.” Cole slides a hand over my shoulder. “Tell Danni how we met.”
The bald man folds his arms across his chest. “BUD/S training.”
“I’ve heard that term before.” I furrow my brow. “It’s a military thing.”
“Basic Underwater Demolition / SEAL training.” Richard huffs a pained laugh. “Seven months of hell.”
“You were Navy SEALs together?” I take in the scuba gear with new eyes.
“No, actually.” Richard leans against a metal shelf. “I got my ass handed to me in the third phase of training. Crashed and burned. So here I am, running a dive shop.”
“And you?” I squint at Cole. “You passed the training?”
Richard bursts into laughter. “He blew through it with his eyes closed. Hell, he could’ve taught it.”
“You and your damn mouth.” Cole glares at the other man. “This is why you didn’t meet her five years ago.”
I turn to Richard, since he seems to be a well of helpful information. “So Cole was a SEAL and—”
“No, sweetheart.” He rests a hand beneath his chin, studying Cole. “He was assigned to a team, but someone plucked him from the force and poof! He disappeared. I don’t know anything beyond that. It was above my pay-grade.”
“I see.” I shift back to Cole, unable to keep the suspicion from leaking into my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me about the SEAL thing? That isn’t classified information.”
“Because I was never a SEAL.” He brushes a thumb along my jaw. “But I brought you here to share a piece of my training with you. Do you want to learn?”
He doesn’t offer an apology or any further explanation. He just looks at me with dimpled affection, as if sharing this experience with me means so much more to him than bragging about his SEAL training.