My Best Friend's Navy SEAL Dad - Page 30

Not that I don’t want to touch her.

But I want to have dinner first, to treat her right before I show her what it really means to belong to a man.

She pours the drinks, casting me looks under her eyelashes, her face blooming red.

“What?” I smirk.

“The way you’re looking at me… heck, Trent, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“You better. It’s never going to stop.”

I just hope another man doesn’t try to look at my woman in this way. If he did, it would be damn hard to remember that SEALs are supposed to be in control.

We’re supposed to be disciplined and level-headed and never let our emotions rule us.

That was never a problem, never even a possibility before Tessa.

Once she’s poured our drinks, I toss the plastic bottles over to the cardboard box.

“Good shot.” She giggles when they both land inside.

“After throwing hand grenades, bottles are child’s play.”

She sits down opposite me as we both open our boxes and start transferring out food to the plates. I’ve ordered steak and fries with a side salad, and she’s ordered pasta with a side of garlic bread. The food smells heavenly.

“What is it, Snapshot?” I ask.

“Who said there was anything?”

I grin at her, wolfishly. “I can practically smell your desire to ask me a question. Ask away. There’s no need to be nervous with me. Ever.”

“It’s just that I’ve never heard you talk about, you know, what happened while you were gone.”

“A lot happened.” I shrug. “I saw men die and I killed men. I won battles and I lost battles. I was injured. I recovered. I fought again. What did you want to know?”

She forks some pasta, staring at it for a moment before glancing at me.

“I don’t know exactly,” she says. “It’s weird. I want to know everything about you. I know that makes no sense. We can’t exactly give each other our whole life histories in the space of a meal. Well, maybe I could…”

“Is that a dig at my age?” I say good-naturedly, a bantering tone in my voice.

“No way,” she says. “I really like our age gap. It makes me feel safe and protected. I love how mature and experienced and, well, you you are, Trent. No, I just meant that not much has happened to me, so it’d be easy to summarize it all.”

“Really?” I lean forward with a teasing look. “Go ahead, then. If it’s that easy, give me all the highlights in the life of Tessa Jacobs.”

“You’re joking.” She smiles, radiant, brighter than the lights which surround us and flicker on the table, brighter than the moon. “You’re not joking, are you?”

I chuckle, loving how easily we can slip into this banter, this fun back-and-forth, and let our concerns for the rest of the world slip away. We both know there are things we have to sort – we need to tell Angela – and yet somehow we can put that all to one side and enjoy our date.

Goddamn, I hope Angela understands.

She will, my seed roars. She has to.

“I am in no way joking,” I tell her.

“Fine. Here it goes… there once was a girl named Tessa Jacobs. She was born and her dad left because he cheated on her mom. Her mom bought her a camera when she was seven and she fell in love with it. She met a girl named Angie and they became best friends. She was a bit of a loner in high school, except for Angie, but Angie had her theatre club friends and that was okay. I never resented her for that. Tessa got older and people called her names and she left high school and she worked in a diner. Her mom got ill. Her mom got better. The end.”

I’m laughing like crazy when she says the end, but not at her life. It’s the way she told it, in this hilarious lilting tone, tilting her head at me like she’s giving a goddamn sermon or something.

“I’m so lucky,” I say. “You’re sexy, you’re beautiful, you’re talented and kind and caring, and you’re funny.”

“Your turn,” she says, delight making her voice high-pitched and alluring.

“I’d love to tell you. But my mouth is full.”

“Your mouth is not—Hey, that’s cheating.”

I chew my steak slowly, making over the top noises of satisfaction, even if it is delicious. She giggles as I chew, glaring at me as she tucks into her own food.

We eat for a while without the need for conversation, the forest provides the perfect ambiance for our date. I love how she tucks into her food as passionately as I do, keeping her body sturdy and strong for when she’s ready to carrying our children into this world.

Love, love, love.

That word has been surfacing in my mind more than ever lately, and I can’t deny it. I can’t ignore it.

Tags: Flora Ferrari Romance
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