Page 4 of Love Me Knot

“Stop kissing my woman, asshole,” Bash says with a grin.

My eyes begin an automatic scan of the man’s body, noting his confident bearing, fit arms, rock-solid middle, and finally, his playful smile and sharp eyes. Eyes that meet mine for a brief moment before I look away.

My cheeks heat as I replay my bottom-to-top scan of the stranger. The guy stood alert as if he was in the military or still is. Given his age, he’s probably a career man. Since Bash knows him, he’s most likely a SEAL. He’s definitely got the body of one.

My rusty libido takes notice and likes what it sees. Not sees. Senses. The man is an alpha, and given the way Bash greeted him, he earned it_bad news for me. I’ve been fooled by a pretty face before, so hot guys are easy to ignore. A man like this is appealing for a host of other reasons.

Attraction is a weakness I can’t afford, and the stronger the pull toward someone, the emptier my brainpan. I become this gullible, trusting idiot, which is how I ended up with someone like my ex. Never again.

Straightening my shoulders, I continue toward our table, still thinking I’ve seen this man before. It takes a minute, but I finally place the familiar face. This man was with Bash the day we rescued Birdie. He wanted to be part of the rescue team, but Knot made him watch from the ground as we raced away in a helicopter. I never did learn his name.

The two friends man hug, and then Bash turns to us. “Guys, this is Lieutenant Jackson “Clothespin” or “Pin,” for short, Bennett. We served together in the SEALs. He’s still active duty.”

Bash gestures around the table for his friend’s benefit. “Jackson, meet Kai and Cassanova.” Gesturing toward me, he adds, “They’re part of the team I lead with this badass, Chelsea.”

Jackson nods at the first two names, but then his eyes lock onto mine and widen. “Chelsea. So, this is the famous Yeet.”

I turn and glower at Bastien. “I’ll kick your ass later.” Then, to Jackson, I warn, “I don’t know you, so I won’t kill you this time. Next time you call me that, I’ll stab you in the heart.”

Unruffled, the man turns back to Bash. “I think I see what you mean.”

Bash laughs at the inside joke at my expense. When Kai and Cassanova snicker with him, the familiar burn of humiliation fills my gut. I remind myself that these people_new guy notwithstanding_are my friends, and I choke out a laugh to hide my awkwardness.

Jackson smiles and meets my eyes, and another type of warmth threatens to melt me from the inside out until I catch myself. I pull my gaze away, refusing to get sucked into his…whatever spell he’s trying to cast. Nope. No. Been there. Done that. I know all too well what it means when the hottest guy in the room starts buddying up to me. Someone either lost a bet or made one, or he just needs to scratch an itch, and no one else is available.

I hope Jackson’s appearance is a coincidence, and he’ll move on quickly. That would be great because I’m hormonal and off my game thanks to PMS. Unfortunately, today is not my lucky day because he pulls out a chair to sit at our table. Great. So much for my chance to just hang out and unwind.

Kai and Cassanova jump into grilling the SEAL about Bash’s time in the Navy, but I tune the men out in favor of talking to Birdie, our brilliant intel specialist. I don’t have the energy to deal with a new personality tonight.

The bar is busy for a Thursday. I haven’t been coming here long, only since Bash found a personality and asked Birdie out. Since then, various members of our team have been making efforts to get together outside of work. I remind myself each time we meet that friends are a good thing, and that I am capable of being one.

The din of happy patrons means my lack of engagement isn’t obvious. I’m generally not so aloof because I’m always with my teammates. Excluding myself from present company tonight is a defense mechanism. Thankfully, I’ve got Birdie to hide behind.

I realize I’ve gone too hard in ignoring the men when a rolled-up napkin gets tossed at me. Birdie, my one distraction from Jackson’s gorgeous eyes, had left to visit the ladies’ room, and I checked out altogether, pretending to people-watch.

“You still in there, Chels?” Kai asks.

“Yeah. What?” I say, pretending to be annoyed by the interruption.

Bash teases. “Where did you go? Planning another rafting trip in your head?”

I take my fork and stand it on end threateningly. Smirking, I answer, “Yep. I’m imagining how I could get away with drowning you while we’re there.”

The men at the table ooh at my fake warning. “I’d love to know how you plan to drown a SEAL,” Jackson says, baiting me.

Though Bash is technically a former SEAL, I would never point that out. His exit from the Navy was not by choice, and there’s no way I’d rub salt in that wound. And given the way my stomach is flipping over Jackson’s deep voice and strong jaw, any attempt at a sharp comeback would likely stumble out in some stuttered mess. Instead, I opt for my best defense, deflection. “What do you morons want?”

“Nothing,” Cassanova says with his hands up. “We were just wondering where you went.”

Four sets of eyes focus on me, waiting for an answer. Three don’t bother me, but Jackson’s stare has me fidgeting in my chair. What the hell, Chels? Get your shit together. Drumming up a quick excuse, I avoid looking at Jackson and answer with a grin. “Oh, nowhere. Just fantasizing Harding falling on his face during one of his interviews.”

While the PMC guys nod in agreement, Jackson’s brows rise in question. “Who’s Harding?”

“Congressman Calvin Harding,” Bash answers. “He’s got a burr up his ass about private military contractors. He wants to rid the world of us.”

Jackson laughs. “Good luck. You guys are like cockroaches. What’d you do to him?”

“Not us. None of our people have ever met him,” Kai answers.

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